Chapter 2

Daily Life I

Calead was a huge metropolitan city built on top of a man-made island. Like many metropolitan cities, it was large, overbearing, and packed full of dreamers. The island itself was entirely self sufficient, drawing power from a Nuclear power station built in the Research District, to the north of Residential District.

From the highway connecting the suburbs and the Commercial District, one could see a long bridge connecting Calead to the mainland. The countless cars and trucks going out and into the island moved ceaselessly day and night like a blood stream, the bridge being the blood vessel. Below, the clear blue water gleamed under the morning sun, reflecting the marvel of engineering like a giant mirror.

Calead was a true mecca of technological advancement. The only place in the world where technology had become so integrated into the people’s way of life, that the very function of the city itself was entirely dependent on it. Everything, from the weather to daily necessities to even a simple payment for a pack of crisps were all controlled by the cloud.

Everyone in Calead could access everything they needed with as much as ease as waving a hand. Provided that they installed a Bio-Chip. A marvel of easy living compressed into a chip the size of a piece of nail. A product of the ingenious mind of Simeon Abramovich, CEO of Nox Aquila Industries.

The chip would be installed into a body part of the host’s choice. And then a serial code would be imprinted on top of it. This serial code could only be read by special tools created by the company.

It was so ubiquitous that it had become a fashion statement. People find ways to make the numbers atop their chip to be fashionable. Jude’s was on the back of his right hand. He did nothing to change the look, seeing it as nothing more than a daily necessity, much like a credit card.

The journey took about fifteen minutes. Soon, he was greeted by the statue of St. Thomas, standing on top of the school’s plaque, his arms outstretched welcoming those who seek knowledge. Ignoring the fact that those same knowledge seekers had drawn a fake mustache and a poor rendition of male genitalia on his robe.

The bus braked slowly and the driver rasped through the microphone. “St.Thomas Senior High School. Get your items together and don’t let me see you leave anything around.”

Jude followed the throng of students into the school. Passing through groups of boys and girls gathering within their cliques, trading jokes and jabs beside their private cars.

The more privileged students turned their car radio full blast on another of the current popular tune, oblivious to the annoyance on some of the meeker students’ faces.

Jude squeezed through the dense pack of students and made it to his locker. He put in his bag and gathered book for the first class when the door slammed shut, almost biting off his fingers. A large hand was on top of it. It belonged to the teenager that had tortured him ever since he enrolled.

“Hello, maggot. You treating us to lunch?”

Bryan Miggs. Large and overbearing with ego the size of a truck. He was a member of the wrestling team along with his three thugs. Barry, Todd and Colin. Each of them looked like they belonged to the same neanderthal descent.

The first two were big, with faces similar to each other as they were brothers. The last skinny. All of them unpleasant. They never get to the nationals because they were too unruly, opting instead on testing their skills on Jude.

“I want no trouble, Bryan. Look, it’s almost class.”

“Oh, look at that. The maggot can speak. Fork it over!”

A large fist brought him down sprawling on the floor. His eyes opened to look at the legs of the students surrounding the four of them. They were watching, like spectators of a circus, drinking in the humiliation and violence.

Bryan grabbed his collar and raised a fist like a rock. Jude looked at the schoolyard bully, whose face contorting into that of a self-satisfied monster. Jude steeled himself for another hit. Just endure, and count the numbers. Count the numbers!! Don’t give in to the anger!

The thug had gotten a few good hits in before he was stopped by an unexpected hindrance.

“Isn’t that enough, Bryan?”’

A hand stopped Bryan’s punch from rearranging Jude’s face. The large youth frowned when he saw the face that it belonged to.

“Sam! This ain’t your business! This is between him and me!”

The young man in white and blue Blue Hyena jacket smiled wryly. “Say that when you can fight without the three goons behind you. What, too scared of fighting one scrawny little nerd alone, are you?”

“You watch your mouth or I’ll –“

“You’ll what...?” he said with a grin that did not reach his eyes. “…Bryan?”

He spread a look of intimidation towards Bryan’s gang, who suddenly looked apprehensive.

Their eyes locked in battle briefly. The large bully harshly pushed Jude away, but not before leaving a threat. “You watch your back, Sam. One of these days I’ll make you eat those words. And you,” he jabbed a meaty finger at Jude’s direction and motioned a thumb across his fat neck. “Next time I see you, you’re dead.”

But Jude’s attention was not directed at the threat, instead it was at a bucket of water beside the toilet. It was moving towards Bryan. There was no one around to move it, but it was definitely moving.

“No...not again...” Jude whispered. His eyes transfixed at the treacherous bucket.

With a nod, the three sidekicks followed their leader. Bryan parted the students like a massive whale wading through a school of fish. One of his followers, Colin, glanced back. His lips trembling like he wanted to say something at Jude, but Bryan’s scream as he stumbled upon the stray bucket of brown water stopped him from doing so.

The curly, blonde-haired savior extended a handkerchief as the students around them dispersed, mumbling to themselves about how disappointing the fight was ended.

“Hey, Jude.”

“Hey, Sam,” he answered, taking the rough cloth and wet it with water from his bottle. The coldness soothe the pain on his cheek. “Did you see that?”

“See what?”

“That bucket. It was moving by itself!”

“That again? Did he knock your head wrong, dude? Come on, let’s get to Social Study before Mrs. Potts get us into one of her private lessons,” he shuddered.

After that little scene, they went to the classroom. Strangely enough, it was almost empty and the students looked preoccupied with something. The few students that were present only greeted Sam and quickly returned to whatever it was they were doing.

Ignoring the usual cold recepetion, Jude threw his bag over the chair. He checked his seat for thumb tacks or glue with his hands before sitting.

“That was some punch, man,” he said, taking the chair in front of him, leaning on the back rest.

“I’ll live.”

His cheek stung, and the inner cheek felt thick when he spoke. It was painful, but nothing more than a minor annoyance. He had been through worse. Much worse.

“You know, you could’ve fought back,” he said quietly, almost a whisper.

“And when does it end? His father is rich. Got a lot of pull in the entertainment industry, especially here in Calead. I don’t want mom to be out of job because of some petty fights I started.”

“I guess you’re right. Hey, three more months and you’re never going to meet him again,” Sam laughed heartily. “After that, it’s college for us!”

Sam Sideney was Jude’s best friend. A Quarterback in the football club. Smart, diligent, handsome, popular with girls, and in many counts were very different from him. He had that classic jock look you see in seventies show, curly blonde hair cut sharp and short, strong jawline with buff neck. For some reason though, the stereotypical jock liked to hang out with him. The first time they met, Jude was so surprised that he bit his tongue when telling him his name. They were a very odd combination.

They met on the first semester, and already they got along well. It was a strange thing. You could have a friend that had been with you most of your whole life and you still did not know who he really was. Then you also had someone who you only know for barely a few months and already you knew what kind of ice cream he liked.

“But man, I am glad you haven’t kicked the bucket. When I saw the news this morning...”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t know? Here, let me show you.”

He flipped open his phone. A Curio i100, a state of the art mobile device costing more than a standard Benz.

“Like it? Got it from my current third girlfriend, Susan...something...” he gave him a conspiratorial wink and a little finger. His other hand moved swiftly across the virtual keypad and a news video began to play onscreen. A yellow bus was overturned. It had crashed into a family restaurant nearby. Police officers and Firemen were trying to salvage the wreckage. Below the bus, were pools of blood that had begun to dry out from the harsh summer sun.

“Crazy, huh? No one lives through it. First thing you know, you’re eating a half decent breakfast and the next thing you know, you’re pushing up daisies,” Sam said with a depressed sigh. “Counting the ones in the Commercial and Residential District, that makes this what…five accidents this month? Pretty crappy luck.”

Sam flicked off his phone, his eyes thoughtful. The young man was a very fickle person. It was a wonder how this kind of accidents piqued his interest this long.

“The whole school’s buzzing about this. So I don’t think anyone’s going to be in the mood to study anytime soon.”

And just as Sam predicted, an announcement for cancellation of the class came from the headmaster a few minutes later. To which the students answered with a resounding echo of youthful happiness. Mixed in it were sobs of sadness from the loss of treasured loved ones, but dimmed throughout by the former.

“Sweet! So where do you wanna go today?”

“Mom said I need to go home as soon as class is finished. So home, I guess?”

“Oh? Is that so?” he patted his friend’s shoulder a few times before continuing with a dramatic sigh. “I guess you’ll be missing this then?”

He then dramatically pulled up five tickets from his inner jacket pocket. They were tickets for the indie band that Jude worshiped like gods. Dark Sweet Death.

“T-those are tickets for the concert for DSD this evening! How? Why? They were sold out within the first minute online! I know, I’ve tried!”

“Got these from my other girlfriend. She was one of the sponsors for the show. What do you say? Good enough for, say, being a bad boy for one day?”

He fanned the ticket playfully, dangling it in front of Jude with a dirty sounding laugh.

DSD Tickets?! But Mom said that I’ve got to go home…but those are DSD Concert Tickets!! When else could I get a chance to see Shakti up close?!

“Come on, you’ll just get grounded for a few days. Tops. But this? This is once in a lifetime thing, my guy!”

Jude could not hide his excitement as he answered. “Alright! Goddammit! I’ll take it! You’re playing a hard bargain, Sam.”

“Yes, praise me. Praise me again, citizen!” he responded to his friend’s fake anger and spread his arms wide like Caesar receiving adoration from the common men.

As the two were acting like a couple of bona fide idiots, suddenly someone snatched the tickets from Sam’s hand. He reacted too slow and as a result he stumbled over the smaller boy.

“Makoto!!!” Jude complained as he pushed Sam away.

An energetic girl in an orange hoodie bounced off a chair and sat at the edge of a window.

Makoto Browning, Jude’s childhood friend. You could spot her bright red hair from a mile away. She was a member of gymnastics team, popular with both girls and boys because of her easy going attitude.

They had known each other since primary school. Aside from her trademark red hair, she also had a healthy, athletic body with little fat. Her playful gaze narrowed with a look of triumph over them as the class tomboy waved the tickets over them.

“That’s for ditching me for the game convention last week,” she said with a sing-song voice. “And are you going to stay there and look up my skirt all the time, pervert?”

“You are wearing sweatpants under there, Makoto. And even if you aren’t, there’s nothing to see,” Jude answered.

“Bad move,” Makoto said as she opened the window and dangled the tickets over the yard.

With speed almost as fast as when a deer ran after spotting a lioness, Jude quickly turned apologetic. “W-wait! Let’s all calm down now.”

“Tell me you’re sorry.”

“Alright. I’m sorry, okay? Just give me the tickets.”

“And you will carry all my things when we go shopping next Saturday.”

The boy stopped. Was the ticket worth the suffering I will receive? Do I really want it that much?! On the other hand, being turned into a non-committal slave was not a nice idea.

“Come on, Jude. Just take it like a man. Those things are hard to get!”

“But I-“

“Dude! Those things worth a fortune! I can sell the rest outside and get a hundred bucks easy! Be a man!”

“Alright, fine. I’ll do it! Are you satisfied now?”

“Great. Take them.”

Before she even acted, Sam had already taken the tickets and counted them. “Hey, there is one missing!”

“I’ll take one. You owe me for the fries last Friday.”

“Oh, come on!!” Sam groaned as he looked at Jude pathetically. To which he answered. “You owed her, Sam. Be a man.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be training for the Nationals next month?” Jude grumbled.

“What, that competition? I’ll leave the others in the dust even without training!”

Jude shook his head wearily at hearing the rambunctious girl’s overconfidence.

Sam was about to bargain a losing match when the classroom door slid open and the school counsellor entered.

“Jude, can I have a minute of your time?”

Jude’s gaze turned towards the counsellor, Mr. Lee, whose white sleeves were rolled over a pair of strong, smooth arms. Results of daily visits to the local fitness centre. Jude had avoided most summons from him by being inconspicuous, but today his luck ran out.

“Wait for me by the gates, guys.”

“It won’t be long,” Lee said a bit louder to the two as he stepped aside, letting Jude walk out. The youthful man took him to a room with his name written on the glass pane using white paint.

Jude grabbed a seat on the worn out sofa in front of a cluttered desk in the middle of the room Mr. Lee called his office. The air conditioner was a bit too cold for him. He rubbed his palms together and put both hands inside the pockets of his trousers.

He took a deep breath.

It was not going to be pleasant.