Andrew Allen - Writing Showcase 001 - 117 - Chapter One

Andrew Allen - Writing Showcase 001 - 117 - Chapter One

117

One

Whack!

Again, the hand came down, slapping the top of the alarm clock in one swift motion. 

He didn't need this today. Not today of all days.

"Review no. 117 - Assessment of ethical conduct in the workplace."

"Coffee..." Warden said, sighing heavily as he sat upright in bed, wondering should he go formal, or think screw it - what's the point. 

117. One hundred and seventeen times he had been called in throughout the 200 years of service on the force, and each time resulted in the same outcome - a "polite" slap on the wrist and told "not to do it again".. 

What "it" was god only knows. All he knew was that he didn't get to where he was by being "ethical". He got answers. Whether that was "ethical" or not, he couldn't give a damn. 

Standing up, he looked around the room. The usual routine, Stretch, assess, and ensure that the enhancers were doing their job still. Ancient things. 

Warden was one of the first on the enhancement program - take the top 2% of the population (police officers, lawyers, doctors etc.) and offer them up to the enhancement program - symbiotic implants inserted into the host in order to "ehnance" their lifestyle both in and out of the workplace. 

"Corporate bullshit" Warden muttered. 

Deciding to go down the fuck it approach, he dressed in his usual officers gear, strapped up with his dual AC-87 handguns, and headed out into the world for another day of pointless “Duty”.

Something didn’t feel quite right today however. 117 – The number kept going over and over in his head. Why of all numbers, did this one matter? One hundred and seventeen – one – one – seven. Over and over and over again...

Trying to cast it out of his mind, Warden slowly made his way through the streets. Exion 4 – scum of the galaxy. If there was a metaphor for it, think the place where wasted vegetables go to be turned into mulch, only worse. This was the planet at the end of god only knows where, where criminals either go to die, or to live on as legends.

Taking a cigarette out of the left pocket of his duster, he placed it to his lips. A lighter appeared, igniting the tip, snapping back shut.

“’Bout time you got here sarge” Ali said. Today seemed to feature a Teal appeal – Teal dreads, lipstick and a dungaree ensemble.

“The boss has got it out for you today”

“Not now Ali”

“He’s on the warpath”

“Not now Ali”

“It’s about Case 117”

Again – 117. Purely just coincidence no?

“… what about it?” Warden said, taking a slow but elongated drag of the cigarette. He felt the smoke churn in his lungs, the enhancers working to diffuse the nicotine and feed it into his bloodstream quicker.

“Well, boss says there’s some new evidence come to light”

“Bull… come off it Ali. That case is over 30 years old. Your circuits must have misheard..” Warden said, exhaling the turquoise smoke out. He knew he’d regret saying that, as the next thing he knew, he had an ar39 pointed to his temple.

“Sarge, do we have to go through this again?” Ali said, her eyes narrowed and her biotic pupils glowing a vivid shade of amber. “I’m jus’ sayin’ that’s what the boss said.”

“Let that beat neck Warden of yours know I wanted to see him in my office as of yesterday!” she said, strutting around pretending to be the chief.

Stifling a chuckle, Warden flicked the cigarette away.

“Sorry Ali, just a bit on edge. That’s not the first time I’ve heard the number 117 today” he said, rubbing his forehead and down the back of his neck.

“Another review meeting?” Ali said, putting the rifle away and cocking her head, the amber in her eyes residing back to the teal of her hair and lip gloss. Warden nodded “number 117.” He said, thinking maybe this wasn’t just a coincidence after all…