Earth Reconquered Page 2

  Chapter 2

  From the seedy depths of City Central, our shift always ended back at the squad room. It was like flicking on a light switch in a dark room; waking to the familiar and comfortable from a restless, anxiety filled sleep. The precinct occupied the bottom three floors of one the densely-packed sections of skyscrapers. Throughout the city, scrapers pushed up towards the dome--mostly residential--with our police station jammed in between. There was always a lot going on in City Central, but outside the precinct was usually deserted, except for the cops coming in and out--sometimes with unhappy guests.

  Approaching from the street, the precinct was distinct. The outside of the main floor was like a cut out; covered with a one inch thick bulletproof, laser proof, spit proof plexiglass. Everyone could see in, but it was impenetrable. At the same time as Andy and I, Martina Lever and Doug Lloyd were coming in from their nightly shift. The three of them passed in front of me. Andy was the tallest and most imposing figure among us. He struck a cop poster boy image. Martina too, was strong and athletic; her sometimes serious look did not diminish her attractiveness. She had a strong aura around her. She had fewer issues on the streets than a lot of female cops. Doug was smaller and always slouched a little bit, appearing timid and out of place. Like Andy and Martina, I too, took a strong interest in my physical conditioning. Despite being a little smaller than Andy--maybe I was the poster boy more than him. We passed from the street into the precinct's glass entrance. There was a security checkpoint just as you walked in. We all waved our identity passes in front of the laser interface, I heard three approving beeps as Martina, Doug, and Andy passed in front of me. A hologram of our personal record appeared for the career cop guarding the entrance. Old Sergeant Waverly's glazed eyes didn’t seem to register anything. He knew all of us and just grunted a tired “hello” as we passed.

  I swiped my card, and I heard the familiar beep. My name, Tyler Jonz, and my record details appeared in front of the Sergeant's glazed eyes. I tried not to laugh.

  “What was your night like guys?” Doug asked.

  “Same crap as usual, Dougie boy!” Andy answered.

  Doug frowned. “Just asking.”

  “Jonz shouldn’t be a cop. He should be a social worker.”

  “Oh no, here he goes again,” I groaned. We walked past the open precinct; many cops doing their paperwork--some arguing with captured criminals.

  "Welcome back to Hell Central," one cop sarcastically said to us. He was stuck listening to a particularly upset detainee. At the back of the open precinct was a hallway that took us to the cop's lockers; rows of narrow, metal containers-- rows of benches in front. It was the end of night shift and there were already many cops in there changing.

  “Tonight he was heartbroken over a little prostitute with cute eyes. I thought he was gonna take her home and give her a bowl of soup. He’s too soft for the job man.” Andy fell heavily onto the bench in front of his locker.

  Martina laughed. “You two are worse than a married couple; it must be all the sexual tension. Maybe you two should just consummate the relationship and get it over with.”

  “I’m sure I'd go to Earth and get some mutant nuclear fallout woman that would be much more appealing than this guy” I said.

  “Don’t be so sure Jonz. Those mutant women got standards too you know” Andy replied. “Mind you, you could probably get one of those City Central night stalkers, right Jonz? Just like the one tonight. Why do ya waste your time crying for every whore on the streets?”

  “Look, I can’t help--” I stopped myself.

  Martina stood up between us and clapped her hands. “That’s good enough girls. Jonz, you’re a social worker, and Stoneman, you’re a caveman. It’s settled now. Let's get changed and go for a beer and forget the night.” She grabbed her clothes out of her locker and went to one of the changing rooms, muttering: "we should have our own changing room--away from you perverts--to hell with this team spirit crap".

  “Sounds good to me!” Doug said, more interested in her plans for the night than her comment about women's changing rooms.

  “Beer’s always good,” Andy said.

  “Sorry guys, I’m too tired. I need to crash,” I said.

  “Come on Jonz, don’t be sad, we all love you,” Andy said.

  I looked at him in surprise. I knew he was being sarcastic, but it was still surprisingly affectionate for a caveman, much better than the usual verbal club to the head that I got.

  “Like I said guys, I’m really tired.”

  Martina wandered back to slap me on the back. “That’s okay, I’m sure you’ll get a real good chance to relax tomorrow on your day off, training with your dad.”

  They all laughed. I grinned.

  When Martina came back from changing, the others were already ready and Andy chided her:

  "Always waitin' for the female."

  "Get used to it Stoneman," she said, "it'll only get worse when you're an old married man--that's if you can find anybody to settle for you. Jonz, you sure you won't join us?"

  "Naw, like you said, gotta get up early for my relaxing day off."

  "Daddy's little whipping boy," Andy said.

  I smiled. I was just happy the day was over, but Andy was right. I couldn't get that girl out of my mind--not that I would ever admit that to him.

  "See ya later, alligator," Andy said as they left. The three headed out without me.

  I sat in the squad room a few more minutes and then headed down to the Personal Transport Pod system under the city. The PTP access stairwell out front of the station was more or less deserted when I finally got myself in gear and went out.

  At one of the cross streets nearby, there was a clear booth. When you walked into it, you immediately dropped down to one of the underground PTP access rooms. The room was small and simple; if there was a line up of people they'd usually wait up on the street--only two or three down at the same time. Through the room ran a clear tube which was part of the transport system. Beside an opening in the tube was a pod, ready to be shot in the tube. The traffic and integration of the new pod was controlled by the PTP information system. As soon as one pod was occupied and the travel coordinates were set; the pod shot into the system and another popped up from underneath for the next traveler.

  When I was strapped into my pod, the holographic interface popped up, inquiring about my destination. There was a map of the city and the network of tubes underneath it. All the stations were mapped out.

  The Space Station underneath the domed city was a large flat utilitarian shape. Within it were the infrastructures for climate control and warehouses for food and other essential storage. The Domed City was built on top of the main Space Station. It was where all the average citizens lived and worked. Underneath in the Space Station, access was usually reserved for military and governmental personnel; or others who had a specific function to gain access to the main Space Station. The main population stayed in the Domed City; many never travelling below to the Space Station. If average citizens did travel, it was on the shuttle to Earth; to manufacturing or farming jobs in the tunnels underneath the Earth base.

  Within the PTP system, the different lines had different colours, and at the bottom of the map, was a short black line with only one destination marked—Station Entrance. In italics underneath, it stated: Authorized Personnel Only.

  I tapped on that destination and my personal pod was quickly sucked into the web of tubes. Different pods went by and over me in different directions, making a soft whooshing sound as they passed. At this time of the morning, I was traveling against the rush as I headed to the space station entrance; so I dropped down below the city with no one in front of me.

  As I got out of my PTP, the soldiers at the main space station entrance didn’t even get up to check my credentials. I suppose I couldn’t blame them. T he system wouldn’t let me through the main steel sliding door without a positive ID check. I did get my positive check, and the doors glided open s
oundlessly. Before me lay two long round hallways each leading towards different halves of the space station. I went to the left and started the long walk towards the end of the hall--towards my apartment.

  Even though the shiny metal, perfectly lit hallways of the space station were cold and lifeless compared to the domed city above, the portholes provided clear and breathtaking views of space outside. A view like that was normally reserved for the rich and privileged in the city. City Central dwellers had to almost bend over backwards to get a view of space and stars high above their heads, above the scrapers. My head always turned to stare out the long line of portholes as I walked towards my place. On my right were the combines in the climate control warehouse for the city above. The rumble and metallic clicking of my work boots on the metal grid walk path always hypnotized me as I passed here.

  My apartment was located just before the maximum-security section of the space station at the end of the hallway. Past this point was a restricted area, reserved for government and military officials with top level security clearance.

  People like my father.

  I didn’t want to live down there, but free rent was certainly nothing to be scoffed at. My father arranged it and I guess it was an easy commute now that I had more and more military training down in the space station. All the military gymnasiums, fields, and classrooms were down there. It didn’t have much atmosphere, but it was functional and practical for the needs of my life, my planned career. Inside the apartment, it was much like a tiny army barracks. I had bunk beds despite the fact I lived there alone. It would not win any interior design competitions. Clothes and food containers were everywhere.

  I had a thirst quenching glass of juice from the healthy selection in my fridge. I sighed as I kicked off my boots and removed my clothes while lying on the bed, staring out my tiny porthole.

  As I stared at the stars, thoughts drifted back to my childhood as an only child. These memories sometimes felt like they were from another lifetime, slivers of comforting life memories placed there to make sense of a more stressful, driven present. Those memories enveloped me, reassured me, took me away from this metallic, cold space station and brought me to the root of what makes a human content, to the happy family I was raised in; my loving mother, my dad, and me--an only child. I missed my mom terribly, gone so young; but like a warm blanket, I was comforted by the memories. They lulled me to sleep behind the constant din of the climate control system's turbines.