Beneath A Steel Sky

For Gina

A good friend whom helped me
launch my interest in writing.

"Beneath A Steel Sky"

Gerald sighed as he opened his eyes. The stark surroundings of the dingy apartment filled his sight, as he sat upright swigging his legs out of bed.

Still groggy in his half sleep, he smashed his right little toe against his nightstand. He swore, fully roused from whatever little rest sleep provided. Electronic eyes stared up at him from his alarm clock, 3:00, Wednesday morning.

He muttered to himself, silently, his eyes still adjusting to the darkness. He felt his way around the nightstand, the pack of cigarettes that were usually there to greet him were gone.

This was a mystery until he remembered that tobacco, or anything else considered to be detrimental to one's health for that matter, in all of its shapes and forms had been illegal for the last twenty years. A crime punishable by up to ten years hard labor in one of the gulag mining camps, or worse yet, in a Red Room.
Still, old vices died hard.

The curtains had been drawn forward, completely blocking off the pathetic excuse for a patio area, but Gerald didn't mind; he didn't care for heights anyway. Despite living on the 32nd floor of an aging apartment building, he saw no reason to be reminded of it.

Besides, outside it would have been the same steel grey sky that the sun barely poked through anymore for the last decade or so. Sometimes it seemed as if the rays of sunlight were to shine through, but it would be driven back by the clouds at the last minute. The traffic on hte street, not denoting the hour, had already been reduced to a cacophony of horns and insults in half a dozen languages.

He bustled around the rat's nest of a room, looking for clotching without too many stains on them. Old newspapers, magazines, dirty laundry, empty bottles, pizza boxes, consisted of his floor. He finally settled on a pair of his rough brown work trousers and a faded blue work shirt with remains of last Tuesday's ravioli dinner.

He looked at the television set, gazing at it with dissatisfaction; nothing ever played these days anyway except military marches and state run news.

The older ones, the ones that would soon be gone; remembered when it was different, a whole world of difference. He sauntered over to it, and pressed the power button. Naught was revealed by the cycloptic monster save his own reflection.

He stared at it, his own dishemled persona with eyes of an impossibly old man- Eyes beaten with wear until the shine of youth turned into black holes, and the wrinkles set in.

His hands clenched into fists, and with a swift and terrible movement ripped the makeshift mirror, connections and all, off of the dresser and into his hands, wires dangling behind it still sparking as he seized it over his head, like some Mountain Giant out of a fairy tale about to toss a boulder at his aggressors.

He heaved it at with all of his might; it crashed through the window with explosive force, and not many seconds later, smashed into oblivion on the street below, as the savage inside of him cheered in the extasy of rebellion. He proceeded to destroy everything and anything that got in his path, a mindless engine of destruction, a berserker in full rage.

This was all interupted by a sharp knock at the door. Gerald spun, quite quick on his feet and agile for such a big man. "Metro Police!" A gruff yet almost inhuman voice announced. "Open this instant!" Another sounded.

Gerald reached the front door, plodding ahead as he practically ripped it off its hinges as he opened it. "Yes, is there a problem officers?" He spoke, his full frame bursting out of the door.

Everyone knew that the Metro Police were nothing but tools used to control the populace, their corps composed of those citizens who wanted a higher standard of living, and were willing to give their humanity for it.

As part of their initial training, they were given implants of an unknown sort. The populace spposed that they must have had all sorts of enchancements, as it was claimed by those who had seen a Metro Policeman without their gas mask on that there was something, perhaps surgically attached to their voice boxes. This would give them their distinctive voices that sounded like someone with a bad cold speaking through a walkie-talkie, making it easier to identify one another, and impossible to impersonate.

But implants were not the only price to pay; they also preyed on fellow man.

Random beatings, torture for the slightest suspicion of wrong doing, and even death were simply the orders of the day. The populace beaten in spirit as well as body, sought not to lift a finger to them.

Their general appearance was that of less than human. They showed no skin, not even hands in their uniforms. Stark white gas masks, with large circular holes which reflected the gaze of those that looked into them; protruded from where their heads should have been.

Jet black from the neck down to their jack boots, the only other visible color was a scarlet red chevron that denoted rank and serial number that was impressed on their shoulders.

Yet another red stripe ran across an otherwise also black cinch belt where either a Browning high power or stun stick hung with easy grasp, and ocassionally both.

There were only two officers. One had a stun stuck, the other his pistol. The one with the pistol had it aimed in Gerald's general direction, and was flicking the safety, off and on, off and on, "He must be nothing but a nervous kid...a kid with a gun." Gerald thought to himself.

"Yes citizen, there does appear to be a problem..." The one with the stun stick slapped the weapon into the palm of his hand; the discharging sparks caressed the thick black leather of his gloves harmlessly.

"You have not reported to work for over two days, and when we get here to remind you, what do we catch you doing...?" He paused for emphasis and shook his stun stick meancingly at Gerald, scolding him as if he were a child.

"Destroying the home that the State has so graciously given you..."

"I think you better come with us citizen....now." The cop with the stun stick prepared to place handcuffs on Gerald. He didn't worry for a moment that his arms were in front of him instead of behind his back. What was he going to do? Fight? What a ridiculous notion. The Metro Cop with the gun covered him.

Gerald sucked in his breath, and offered his hands; looking nervous but unafraid. Lulling them into a false sense of security. Just as the cop was about to affix the cuffs to his wrists he spoke.

"Officer?" He said softly.

"What?"

"It's time for the sun to shine"

"Wha-" He didn't get any further as a fist plowed into his midsection with all the power of a freight train. He doubled over, the wind knocked out of him, slamming him against the paper thin walls of the hallway as he dropped his stun stick and handcuffs to the floor.

The other officer stood in shock, absolutely dumbfounded as this happened; his fingers trembling, he opened fire.

Gerald bit his lip and grunted, his face twisting with pain as piercing hot fire lodged into his shoulder. He spun quickly, facing the Metro Cop, as with one hand he grabbed his wrist and placed his other palm under his elbow, snapping it easily; the Metro Cop gave out a yelp as his arm flapped uselessly, his gun tumbling to the floor. Even behind the mask he could smell their fear; they could still feel fear.

Deftly, Gerald picked up the gun, pressed the muzzle against the gas mask, and squeezed the trigger. A cold electronic flat line sounded out from the helmet as the Metro Cop slumped to the floor. The radio sang a harsh chorus as Metro Cop chatter flooded the frequency. "10-34, Unit checking on domestic disturbance, what is your status? 10-34...10-34..."

Gerald rose and waved the pistol, as the citizens that lined the hallways on his floor opened their doors and looked out at the scene before them, like rabbits timidly poking out of their holes, watching for the wolf.

Gerald grew tense as a fervor grew inside of him. If some part of his life would have meaning, this would be it.

"Citizen! Friends! Lend me your ears!" The crowd fathered out in the hall, shocked at the two crumpled Metro Police corpses before them. They then switched their attention to the lunatic who had triggered it all.

"For too long, we have suffered under the tyranny and malediction of this state!" He slapped the pistol butt against his hand.

"Time after time, our dignity, our very freedoms, have been stripped away one by one, until nothing remained." Several heads nodded and muttered in agreement. Gerald drew in breath, and spoke again. "Now is the time for change; we will take back what is rightfully ours; we will take back this sacred earth, and cast out our oppressors!" He shot a fist into the sky, as he felt himself reach a fever pitch in his speech.

"Freedom, Forever!" He shouted into the swelling ranks of the crowds, and the response was echoed back to him, in voices that seemed like ten thousand strong.

It was then, that the Metro Police rushing up the stairs to arrest one man were greeted by a mob of people, outgunned, outnumbered, but great in spirit, the human wave washed over them, men, women, children, trampling them beneath their heels.

Gerald led them on, waving his pistol in the air like a commissar during Stalingrad, leading them onwards, to liberty.