font face=arial color=black
h1p align=centerThe Ordinary Life/h1
h3Monday/h3
bBlue Collar Man/b
p
2 am: Rick Franklin was on the return from his late shift in the food plant. Zion was
a bit more quiet than during daytimes. Many of the citizens were having daytime-jobs.
At this time only some workmen, drunkards and cops were on the streets. For correct
atmosphere lights were dimmed in the tunnels they called 'streets' at Zion.
p
During the darker hours the rats and roaches - omnipresent plague anyway - were more
daring and active. Rick could see rats crawl in and out Zion's sewer-grates and every now
and then a cockroach was crushed under his shoes with a faint but scaring cracking noise.
p
Rick was 33 years old, an average tall man with long brown curly hair, carried in a
pony-tail most of the time to tame the strands, hazel eyes and a slightly tanned skin. No
plugs - he was born at Zion. To determine his origin would have been impossible. Zion was a
melting-pot.
p
After the machines' last attack he still had to take several detours on the way
between his job and his home. He had to pass some of the darker quarters of Zion. He
walked there, head down, shoulders pulled up with fast strides. He avoided contact
with the people there. Anyhow he could not ignore the junkies around; most of them
former fighters, now using their IV-plugs for easy injection of drugs.
p
Wrecked existences they were. Ruined from the war, burned-out at an age when a free-born's
life would just start. He remembered what his wife's father Charles once had said:br
"We use them too early. They're just kids and not supposed to fight a war at that age.
They should give them a good education and training first. There's not a month without
one or more of them freaking out while around here. And most of them only about 20 years old."
p
Charles Boudreaux had worked as a policeman at Zion. He had been a giant, dark man with
a soft heart. He never forgot the human being behind the case. But one day he had not
been able to get through to the freaked-out fighter, stoned with drugs. He had been
shot before his colleagues managed to stop the madman.
p
Charles' wife had died 4 years before that and now the four kids were left alone. George,
the eldest had just left to serve on a hovercraft as paramedic and mechanic at age of 21,
Rae, just 18, quit college and decided to bring up her two younger brothers, Michael (14) and Theo (10).br
That was the time that Rick had decided to live with Rae. They had been together for 1 year then and now she
could really need his support. The money Zion paid for the two teens and Rae's efforts to
bring them up was not too bad, but with what he earned they were able to make
a better living and keep the Boudreaux's house.br
All of a sudden Rick and Rae somehow had to raise two kids, although they were themselves still adolescents.br
12 years had passed since that night. George had died like so many others. Michael had become a rare guest since
he served on one of those ships that were far-going, exploring unknown - or better: forgotten - parts of
the sewer-systems. Theo was living his own life.
p
Rae. After all these years his heart still skipped a beat when he saw her. When Rick had
seen her first he had known she was the one for him. Her or nobody else. And obviously he had been right.
p
The sound of his feet was drowned out by the ever-present sounds of Zion. The city never
was really quiet. Steam and water, flooding through countless kilometers of pipelines created
the background music, the sound of life here in the caverns.
p
p align=centerb ************ /b/p
Rick turned left to enter the street they were living in. It was an older part of
Zion. In these aisles the houses where carved into the rock, metal was only used
for doors or where walls had crashed. The alleys were smoothed by generations of feet
walking them. Cables and hoses were hooked up at the ceiling. It was a noisy quarter,
the pipes in need of repair, steam hissing out of smaller leaks.br
The sewers here were rather new. It looked like they had just put tubes into the grooves
that had simply been covered by grates and this way served as sewers.
p
During daytime there were always kids playing on the street, some old-timers sitting on chairs, watching, talking.
p
Most people living here were of Amerindian or African-American origin. And a lot
of them - not just the kids - were freeborn people. Most houses were very old
and only a few doors had numbers. The people who lived here were mostly born at
exactly the same place, they never had the need to know numbers, they just knew everybody else around.
p p
He reached their house and found the big kitchen still brightly lit. Something unusual
must have happened. He stormed into the room to find Rae sitting there, talking with Michael and another woman.br
"Michael! Welcome home, man. How're you?" the two men greeted and embraced just like brothers. br
Then Tank introduced Diamond. She was a small woman, Caucasian type and her cold eyes
did not get together with her dark, soft voice and her smiling face. The way she sat close
to Michael made clear they belonged together.br
It was about time he showed up with someone!br
"What happened? How's your leg?" million questions and hundreds of stories, but they
had to wait. They all were tired actually and so they all left after some more smalltalk.
p
p align=centerb****************/b/p
In the bed Rick pulled Rae close to him.br
"You're lucky to see him." he stated.br
"Yeah. He said they're going to stay for a while, three months at least. The ship is in a bad
shape and has to get a major maintenance-checkup. It's good to have him around for a
while." He could tell she was smiling.br
"How do you like his lover? She hasn't said too much while I was present."br
"Neither did she before. I hope she's right for him. He was on his own for too
long; hope she will not break his heart."br
"Rae, you can't pamper and protect him for all his life. If he had chosen her, then I
think it's OK. He's grown up, you know?" he grinned.br
Rae was soon asleep after a very long day while Rick resumed day's happenings as
he did always. From Michael's room he could hear muffled sounds - well at least
actually this woman seemed to do him good. With a smile he shook his head and dozed off.
p
bThe Man Behind the Bar/b
p
2 am, El Sleezo's Cafe and Bar. Sleezo rang the bell that indicated the last guests it was closing-time right now.
p
Sleezo was a man in his early fifties, a giant dark man with white hair.
A veteran who had settled down at Zion some 20 years ago and opened this bar.
Having it located not too far away from the docks and hangars, he had many fighters among
his guests that kept him up-to-date with information.
p
During the years the city's structure had changed and now El Sleezo's Cafe and
Bar was to be found on the borderline between the growing red-light-district around the
docks, a housing area where many free-born workers lived and the freak-zone: the now
run-down section that had suffered most on the machine's attack, housing some junkies and other outcasts.
p
Most of the inventory was made of steel or stone. During the years El Sleezo had
learned that it was a good idea to have _all_ things made indestructible to keep damage
during the reoccurring fights as small as possible. Nevertheless the chairs were
well formed and rather comfortable. Even the obligatory mirror behind the bar was made of
polished steel. The bar itself was from an old mess-table from some wrecked hovercraft.
p
Only one left in a dark corner: a lonely, drunken man.br
"OK, pal, you gotta go now." the only answer was a lost look. br
"Listen: you have to stop this. You're no help for anybody. Get sober and then back to
work! Got me?" he pulled the man up and led him to the exit, "take care and good night." *you'll need it, man!*br
p
He locked the door and went to the kitchen, gathering the leftovers, placing them outside
the back-door. As always they would be gone next morning. He sighed: there were many
hungry mouths around lately and the government either did not care for or could not reach them.
p
At 2:30 he had finished and went upstairs to his private rooms and after a quick shower
he went to bed. The upper back part of the house was carved into the rock, the front built
with shaped stones and some metal-sheets. The window was open but secured by heavy steel
bars - as were all windows in the house. Sometimes he heard the strange sounds from the freak-zone
and he wondered if they were uttered by human throats.
p p
bTo Serve and to Protect/b
p
"If you insist, Ma'am, we can take him with us" Police Officer Mara Cheng was
talking to the beaten-up woman while her partner kept the woman's husband under control.br
The woman shook her head.br
Mara sighed and shrugged. They couldn't do anything without this woman giving them an OK.br
"OK, Frank, let's go."br
They left, sending the spectators away from the entrance. Then they headed for a near-by
cafe to have some of the black liquid they called coffee.
p
Mara slid a hand through her jet-black straight hair.br
"I hate this, Frank!" Mara was 36 and worked as a cop now for more than 10 years.br
"Yeah. But think of all the times we could give help!" Frank was always so optimistic.br
"One day it'll be too late. He's gonna kill her and then we are in the questionable lucky
position to arrest him finally. Great!" she snorted.br
"You just can't be everywhere, Mara."br
Well, he was right - yet he wasn't.br
"Pal, time for the borderline-patrol."br
They left, heading for the 23th street west that was now the eastern border of the so called Freak-Zone.br
p
Nobody entered that sector. Most electricity was cut-off in there. It was the dark
spot of Zion. Nobody was sure what was going on in there and even the cops only
patrolled along the borders. Sometimes a robbery took place and the guy escaped in to
the Zone. But they never followed them in there:br
It was creepy, especially on the night-shifts when most of Zion was rather quiet.
Sometimes they could see shadows move or hear screams from far within.br
They stayed on the other side of the street, did not feel too comfortable.br
Mara wondered how many were living in there. How did they get along? Where did they get food from?br
She had never heard of anybody caring for those people. Nobody in the government seemed to
care for those living in the Freak-Zone. Maybe they just did not know?
p
/font
h1p align=centerThe Ordinary Life/h1
h3Monday/h3
bBlue Collar Man/b
p
2 am: Rick Franklin was on the return from his late shift in the food plant. Zion was
a bit more quiet than during daytimes. Many of the citizens were having daytime-jobs.
At this time only some workmen, drunkards and cops were on the streets. For correct
atmosphere lights were dimmed in the tunnels they called 'streets' at Zion.
p
During the darker hours the rats and roaches - omnipresent plague anyway - were more
daring and active. Rick could see rats crawl in and out Zion's sewer-grates and every now
and then a cockroach was crushed under his shoes with a faint but scaring cracking noise.
p
Rick was 33 years old, an average tall man with long brown curly hair, carried in a
pony-tail most of the time to tame the strands, hazel eyes and a slightly tanned skin. No
plugs - he was born at Zion. To determine his origin would have been impossible. Zion was a
melting-pot.
p
After the machines' last attack he still had to take several detours on the way
between his job and his home. He had to pass some of the darker quarters of Zion. He
walked there, head down, shoulders pulled up with fast strides. He avoided contact
with the people there. Anyhow he could not ignore the junkies around; most of them
former fighters, now using their IV-plugs for easy injection of drugs.
p
Wrecked existences they were. Ruined from the war, burned-out at an age when a free-born's
life would just start. He remembered what his wife's father Charles once had said:br
"We use them too early. They're just kids and not supposed to fight a war at that age.
They should give them a good education and training first. There's not a month without
one or more of them freaking out while around here. And most of them only about 20 years old."
p
Charles Boudreaux had worked as a policeman at Zion. He had been a giant, dark man with
a soft heart. He never forgot the human being behind the case. But one day he had not
been able to get through to the freaked-out fighter, stoned with drugs. He had been
shot before his colleagues managed to stop the madman.
p
Charles' wife had died 4 years before that and now the four kids were left alone. George,
the eldest had just left to serve on a hovercraft as paramedic and mechanic at age of 21,
Rae, just 18, quit college and decided to bring up her two younger brothers, Michael (14) and Theo (10).br
That was the time that Rick had decided to live with Rae. They had been together for 1 year then and now she
could really need his support. The money Zion paid for the two teens and Rae's efforts to
bring them up was not too bad, but with what he earned they were able to make
a better living and keep the Boudreaux's house.br
All of a sudden Rick and Rae somehow had to raise two kids, although they were themselves still adolescents.br
12 years had passed since that night. George had died like so many others. Michael had become a rare guest since
he served on one of those ships that were far-going, exploring unknown - or better: forgotten - parts of
the sewer-systems. Theo was living his own life.
p
Rae. After all these years his heart still skipped a beat when he saw her. When Rick had
seen her first he had known she was the one for him. Her or nobody else. And obviously he had been right.
p
The sound of his feet was drowned out by the ever-present sounds of Zion. The city never
was really quiet. Steam and water, flooding through countless kilometers of pipelines created
the background music, the sound of life here in the caverns.
p
p align=centerb ************ /b/p
Rick turned left to enter the street they were living in. It was an older part of
Zion. In these aisles the houses where carved into the rock, metal was only used
for doors or where walls had crashed. The alleys were smoothed by generations of feet
walking them. Cables and hoses were hooked up at the ceiling. It was a noisy quarter,
the pipes in need of repair, steam hissing out of smaller leaks.br
The sewers here were rather new. It looked like they had just put tubes into the grooves
that had simply been covered by grates and this way served as sewers.
p
During daytime there were always kids playing on the street, some old-timers sitting on chairs, watching, talking.
p
Most people living here were of Amerindian or African-American origin. And a lot
of them - not just the kids - were freeborn people. Most houses were very old
and only a few doors had numbers. The people who lived here were mostly born at
exactly the same place, they never had the need to know numbers, they just knew everybody else around.
p p
He reached their house and found the big kitchen still brightly lit. Something unusual
must have happened. He stormed into the room to find Rae sitting there, talking with Michael and another woman.br
"Michael! Welcome home, man. How're you?" the two men greeted and embraced just like brothers. br
Then Tank introduced Diamond. She was a small woman, Caucasian type and her cold eyes
did not get together with her dark, soft voice and her smiling face. The way she sat close
to Michael made clear they belonged together.br
It was about time he showed up with someone!br
"What happened? How's your leg?" million questions and hundreds of stories, but they
had to wait. They all were tired actually and so they all left after some more smalltalk.
p
p align=centerb****************/b/p
In the bed Rick pulled Rae close to him.br
"You're lucky to see him." he stated.br
"Yeah. He said they're going to stay for a while, three months at least. The ship is in a bad
shape and has to get a major maintenance-checkup. It's good to have him around for a
while." He could tell she was smiling.br
"How do you like his lover? She hasn't said too much while I was present."br
"Neither did she before. I hope she's right for him. He was on his own for too
long; hope she will not break his heart."br
"Rae, you can't pamper and protect him for all his life. If he had chosen her, then I
think it's OK. He's grown up, you know?" he grinned.br
Rae was soon asleep after a very long day while Rick resumed day's happenings as
he did always. From Michael's room he could hear muffled sounds - well at least
actually this woman seemed to do him good. With a smile he shook his head and dozed off.
p
bThe Man Behind the Bar/b
p
2 am, El Sleezo's Cafe and Bar. Sleezo rang the bell that indicated the last guests it was closing-time right now.
p
Sleezo was a man in his early fifties, a giant dark man with white hair.
A veteran who had settled down at Zion some 20 years ago and opened this bar.
Having it located not too far away from the docks and hangars, he had many fighters among
his guests that kept him up-to-date with information.
p
During the years the city's structure had changed and now El Sleezo's Cafe and
Bar was to be found on the borderline between the growing red-light-district around the
docks, a housing area where many free-born workers lived and the freak-zone: the now
run-down section that had suffered most on the machine's attack, housing some junkies and other outcasts.
p
Most of the inventory was made of steel or stone. During the years El Sleezo had
learned that it was a good idea to have _all_ things made indestructible to keep damage
during the reoccurring fights as small as possible. Nevertheless the chairs were
well formed and rather comfortable. Even the obligatory mirror behind the bar was made of
polished steel. The bar itself was from an old mess-table from some wrecked hovercraft.
p
Only one left in a dark corner: a lonely, drunken man.br
"OK, pal, you gotta go now." the only answer was a lost look. br
"Listen: you have to stop this. You're no help for anybody. Get sober and then back to
work! Got me?" he pulled the man up and led him to the exit, "take care and good night." *you'll need it, man!*br
p
He locked the door and went to the kitchen, gathering the leftovers, placing them outside
the back-door. As always they would be gone next morning. He sighed: there were many
hungry mouths around lately and the government either did not care for or could not reach them.
p
At 2:30 he had finished and went upstairs to his private rooms and after a quick shower
he went to bed. The upper back part of the house was carved into the rock, the front built
with shaped stones and some metal-sheets. The window was open but secured by heavy steel
bars - as were all windows in the house. Sometimes he heard the strange sounds from the freak-zone
and he wondered if they were uttered by human throats.
p p
bTo Serve and to Protect/b
p
"If you insist, Ma'am, we can take him with us" Police Officer Mara Cheng was
talking to the beaten-up woman while her partner kept the woman's husband under control.br
The woman shook her head.br
Mara sighed and shrugged. They couldn't do anything without this woman giving them an OK.br
"OK, Frank, let's go."br
They left, sending the spectators away from the entrance. Then they headed for a near-by
cafe to have some of the black liquid they called coffee.
p
Mara slid a hand through her jet-black straight hair.br
"I hate this, Frank!" Mara was 36 and worked as a cop now for more than 10 years.br
"Yeah. But think of all the times we could give help!" Frank was always so optimistic.br
"One day it'll be too late. He's gonna kill her and then we are in the questionable lucky
position to arrest him finally. Great!" she snorted.br
"You just can't be everywhere, Mara."br
Well, he was right - yet he wasn't.br
"Pal, time for the borderline-patrol."br
They left, heading for the 23th street west that was now the eastern border of the so called Freak-Zone.br
p
Nobody entered that sector. Most electricity was cut-off in there. It was the dark
spot of Zion. Nobody was sure what was going on in there and even the cops only
patrolled along the borders. Sometimes a robbery took place and the guy escaped in to
the Zone. But they never followed them in there:br
It was creepy, especially on the night-shifts when most of Zion was rather quiet.
Sometimes they could see shadows move or hear screams from far within.br
They stayed on the other side of the street, did not feel too comfortable.br
Mara wondered how many were living in there. How did they get along? Where did they get food from?br
She had never heard of anybody caring for those people. Nobody in the government seemed to
care for those living in the Freak-Zone. Maybe they just did not know?
p
/font