Craw

The world of Tymal was a world in turmoil. The entire planet was split into two by two-warring factions of differing ideas. On the eastern hemisphere were the folk of magic and legends, who lived in the belief that life was the most valuble prize of all. On the western hemisphere however, was the Tech Imperium, which believed that the only importance of life was to serve their God, Mundagus.

This is the story of a boy of the Tech Imperium who unknowingly ended the war, which had plagued the planet for hundereds of generations.

The light in the seventh story of his apartment flickered lazily, casting a pale yellow gloom through the otherwise grey room. The boy who sat on the floor inside glances up at the light with annoyance. He knew that there was nothing he could do about it at the time. He had no money for a repair and he was never taught in lighting.

He sighed and lied back on the cold wooden floor, scratching the back of his already torn white shirt. This boy was named Brandon Craw, citizen number 6709891, recognised as a certified labourer. In the past month he had not been given any jobs. With the rising use of machines, thought Craw, My job will become useless in a matter of years. He sat up again and ran a few slender and pale fingers through his long, greasy black hair. This just wasn't his day. His sad violet eyes scanned the room with loathing. If only I could escape this place. He quickly ended the thought. Such ideas could be received by the Moral Men, and he could be rehabilitated.

He scolded himself for making such a stupid mistake. "Mundagus, I wish I would get some work." He whispered groggily to himself. He stood and began wandering around the dull, depressing apartment. There were three rooms in total. The one he just left was the main living quarters, which held an old mattress which he found outside his building, an old CompuTurner, an ancient machine which was used as a dictionary, thesaurus and mailbox, and the oh-so-useless Model L light sphere.

Craw wandered out into his kitchen, which was, in reality, just an electric hot plate and a stool, which he used as a table and chair. The same type of sphere, which illuminated the sleeping quarters of Craw, lighted it. He decided to ignore this room completely and just headed for the bathroom, possibly the best room in his entire, well, bigger room. It was equipped with a needle nozzle shower and an auto flush toilet, beside which stood a steel industrial sink.

He shed off the rags, which could be called clothes and stepped into the needle shower, not bothering to activate the privacy screen included with every shower. The slighty discoloured water shot out of the thin nozzle of the showerhead and began 'cleaning' Craw, while all it did was spread the grime on his fairly muscular build. He looked down at his chest with a smirk. These are the only reason I have a job at all. He thought sardonically to himself.

After a few minutes of the uncomfortably cold water spraying over his body he shut off the water and the small dryers in the wall began to hum with life, flooding warm water over his naked body. Craw noted to himself that one of the dryers were not emitting any heat. He sighed to himself, "Just another thing to fix." He stepped out of the shower, feeling like a living shirt after the drying, and he put back on his rags, which were still a bit too big, even after finding them three years earlier.

Just then, the small device near his exit began to beep, to Craw's annoyance. He walks briskly over to the VisiPhone and presses a small green button on it's side, the screen lighting up with static, then clearing to show the scarred face of his only friend, Johnny 'Quick Fingers' Smyth, his mouth twisting into a forced grin, making his stubble more pronounced and the scar on his cheek more out of place.

"Hey buddy, I got something' to tell you! C'mon down, and bring a weapon!" The solid black eyes of Smyth glittered for a moment, and then the connection went dead, leaving a confused Craw staring at it.

"A weapon…?" He sighed and went into his living quarters where he kept his army issue knife under his mattress. He lifted up the mattress, picked up the blade, and ran out the door, through the blue carpeted and brick walled hallway, down the graffiti covered stairs, and in front of the identification panel at the door. He imputed a code and the machine buzzed to life, a metallic sex-less voice issuing from it.

Brandon Craw, citizen 6709891, age 18. Input identification code…

Craw typed in the code hurriedly.

Processing… Nationality, Nurbel. Parents, deceased. Location, 177 Burdig Avenue, room 714, manual labourer. Correct?

"Yes." The door's lock clicked and Craw pushed through it, entering the hellhole, which was the Low Income Housing district of Nurbel. They were just slums, but the government decided that 'slum' was an improper term. Thus, there was the poor people place instead. He looked left and right, trying to remember which way it was to the Industreal district. He made up his mind after a few seconds and started running down the left of the street.

It was always night time in Nurbel, the sun constantly being blotted out by clouds of burning wastes and pollution of all sorts. Only the occasionally functional streetlights provided any light for which people could travel by. Not that it mattered if walkers could see or not. At the time, robotic chauffeurs were all the rage. Craw kept running nonetheless, occasionally jumping over piles of garbage and the occasional person.

About 2 miles from the industrial area, he began to notice the stench of pollution and garbage, which was the trademark of the Industrial district. He pinched his nose with his left hand to try to block out the smell, and kept running down the crisscrossing streets of Nurbel, sometimes glimpsing an occasional air car or zeppelin flying under the smog.

He finally reached the humble abode of Smyth and knocked on the door three times. "Open up!"

The door opened with startling speed and a gloved hand reached out and pulled Craw in, slamming the door behind. Smyth grinned at Craw. "Glad you could make it."

Craw pushes away Smyth's hand and growls a bit. "What do you want me here for? It stinks!" Smyth just laughed quietly and motioned for Craw to follow him into the main room. When Craw rounded the corner, the grizzly sight of two gutted naked men on the floor greeted him. He cried out in surprise and looked at Smyth with horror. "You killed them?!"

Smyth laughs again. "Not just anybody kid. These were soldiers of the Home Guard." He grins. "And I got some pretty nice stuff off o' them. Take a look." He picked up two neatly folded black uniforms with a black and gold cross on the front of each.

Craw seemed to turn pale. "T-The Home Guard?! Are you insane?!"

Smyth put a hand quickly over Craw's mouth, looking angry. "Quit yelling idiot!" He whispered. "Now, I have a plan for these suits. We can finally get out of this dump of a city!"

Craw tried to speak through the glove. "Mphhh! Mphphmm?!" He tore his mouth away from Smyth's hand and exhaled quickly. "What do you mean you have a plan to escape?? You know every other city in the Imperium is gonna be the same no matter where we go!"

Smyth's expression turned to one of amusement. "Who said anything about the Imperium? We're going to the forests of Malathyt.

Craw gasped. "No! No no no no!! That's the land of those barbaric magic users! They'll kill us!"

Smyth's smirk turned to a grin. "I took care of that. I've spoken to one of the women in Malathyt named Vryuin. She says that if we come with an X on our foreheads, they'll know that they wont need to kill us."

"But they'll make us their slaves! You haven't thought this through!"

"Brandon, think about it! We're slaves in this place anyway, but here we only get paid with unhappiness. Even if those people were to make us slaves, I guarantee you that we'll still be happier there than here."

Cram went to speak, but stopped himself. He's right, he thought to himself, maybe it would be better over there. It's not like there's much here… "Alright Johnny. What do we do?"

Smyth's grin widened. "Here's what we do…"

Stay put for part 2 of CRAW