Sigmarus Grayson. Contrary to his parents’ intentions when giving him such a unique name, he ended up living a life of failure. Dropped out of high school due to ostracization and miserable grades. Worked in the bottom rung of a legally questionable building maintenance company loosely run by the government. Lived alone without any friends. Every moment of his life hardened his heart with loneliness and depression.

Finishing off the final touches of a new foundation strut below an old building near the outskirts of Haze City, he shut off his fusion melder which looked similar to a large screwdriver. After ten hours of backbreaking labor, he had finally finished the foundation strengthening assignment for the day. Thoroughly exhausted, he lifted the visor of his blast helmet, only to reveal the upper half of a tired face covered with sweat. A layer of soot coated his long nose and malnourished cheeks since dust always seeped between the visor and metal body of the helmet. His dull gray eyes could only stare at the barely passable result of his hard labor.

Stepping away from the newly built foundation strut, he pulled the thick glove off his right hand. He then raised his left arm and opened the mini-computer on the back of his wrist which was generally referred to as a wrist-com. The time on it showed 11:47 p.m., nearing the end of his shift. In moments, he typed out a short message to his supervisor stating that he had finished. Moments later, a message came back stating, ‘Alright. I’ll be there to check it in a minute, Grayson.’

With that out of the way, Sigmarus removed his helmet and pulled a water thermos from the back of his tool belt. The helmet rested between his left palm and hip while he sucked down the remaining drops of warm water in the thermos. Although he could taste the hint of metallic flavor in the water, he was used to it at this point. In fact, the water in the thermos was some of the least contaminated water a ground-dwelling muskrat like himself could get his hands on.

Shortly after returning the thermos to its home in the back of his tool belt, he heard footsteps on the steel stairway leading to this level of the foundation. Before long, a balding middle-aged man with graying black hair arrived next to him. In contrast to Sigmarus’ filthy meld-suit, the supervisor’s looked spotless. A green and white filtration mask covered the man’s nose and lips, but his brown eyes which were open to the elements scanned over Sigmarus’ work with utmost scrutiny. New sweat droplets formed on Sigmarus’ forehead while waiting for the verdict. Eventually, the supervisor nodded and spoke in a gruff voice caused by years of working in dirty work areas.

“Not bad, Grayson. Looks like you’ll get your first weekend tomorrow.”

For some people, that sentence would have put a smile on their face, but not Sigmarus Grayson. He didn’t feel anything. What was one day off worth? Was it enough to recuperate from eight years of backbreaking labor? No. Absolutely not. It took him eight years just to reach the point that he wouldn’t have to spend his Sundays strengthening all the foundation struts he had constructed poorly during his normal six-day work-week.

Well, I guess a day off ’ll give me more time to read and whatnot.

“What? Aren’t you happy about your day off?” The supervisor asked after not getting a response.

Sigmarus shrugged and answered, “I guess.”

“Well, I can always throw you on another project if you want.”

“Hell no.”

The supervisor’s cheeks widened a bit at the immediate answer, which probably meant he smiled underneath the mask. “That’s what I thought. Alright, Grayson, day’s over for you. You can go home.”

The supervisor didn’t even need to say anything since Sigmarus was already clocking out using the small wrist-com. Once finished, he shut down the wrist com, put his sweaty helmet back on, and retrieved his lunch cooler and toolbox from nearby. With all his belongings in hand, he traipsed toward the stairway which cut upward to the next level of the foundation. A white ‘4’ was painted on the wall next to it.

Since the foundations needed to support ever-growing buildings, they always had multiple levels. This one in particular had five floors. He had been working on this level by himself today. His coworkers were all fast enough at their job that they had finished on this floor yesterday and were probably almost done on the floor below as well.

Both Sigmarus and his supervisor started walking upstairs at the same time. Their boots clanged and echoed with each step on the metal stairs. Unfortunately, this supervisor of his enjoyed talking. So, as expected, the man initiated a conversation.

“One of the guys upstairs mentioned you grew up in the Middle Sectors, Grayson. That true?”

“I did.”

“Huh. What’s it like up there?”

“Different.”

“How so? I heard they got clean water and bountiful gardens of food up there.”

“Some do.”

“Also heard they got fancy entertainment and whatnot.”

“They do.”

“Would be nice if we could get some of that down here. Do you still have any?”

“I don’t.”

“Too bad. What do you do for fun then?”

“I read.”

“Reading? Hahaha! First time I heard of a muskrat reading for fun!”

Sigmarus could only sigh since he had heard similar responses countless times. Anyone who lived on the lower floors of a city was called a muskrat. He used to look down on them, but now he was one himself. Perhaps growing up in higher sectors of Haze City affected him, but reading stories was his only escape from this dreary life of his.

“That explains why you’ve been scrounging around in the abandoned library upstairs. Thought you were hoping to find stuff to sell for some extra cash or something. Still, even if you like reading, do you ever go to Red Street to let loose or anything?” The supervisor asked.

Sigmarus’ eyes narrowed at the thought of visiting that nasty place full of lasciviousness and filth. That area was a breeding ground for STDs and drug addiction. It disgusted him.

“I don’t.”

“I thought you were single. Did the people upstairs cut off your dick? Or maybe you’re a virgin? You should go with the guys from work sometime.”

Goddammit. This is why I hate this guy. Mind your own business, will ya?

“No thanks.”

“Well, damn. As expected of Sigmarus ‘Two Words’ Grayson. It’s really hard to get you to talk. I’ll try again next time.”

“Please don’t.”

The supervisor shrugged as though he didn’t care about Sigmarus’ thoughts. It was as though the man had made it his life’s purpose to get him to speak more than two sentences to him.

By the time the conversation ended, they almost reached the top of the stairway. At the top, there was a metal grate platform and a door leading to the next level of the building’s foundation. Upon reaching it, the supervisor stopped, looked at his own wrist com, and said, “Well, I have to go check on the guys downstairs now. Thanks for the hard work again today, Grayson. See you on Monday.”

Nodding, Sigmarus opened the door while replying, “Later, Bob.”

With that, he walked into the next stairway, leaving Supervisor Bob to go check on his other underlings. After climbing up the next few stairways which crossed over each other, he finally arrived at the ground floor of the actual building. The spot where he came out was actually just a big hole that had been drilled through the tile floor. It was a hideous scar on what probably would have been an appealing library fifty years ago. However, it was now just a hollow reminder of the fact that everything worthwhile had been taken up to the higher sectors of Haze City as the inhabitants built bigger and stronger buildings atop the old.

Dusty bookshelves covered in cobwebs formed neat rows, save for the broken ones or those which had fallen or been knocked over. The railing around the second floor was either chipped or falling apart. Not even a single book remained on the shelves on this floor. Instead of a library, the area looked more like a skeleton of one.

Since he had already found a handful of books in obscure or hidden places on the first floor of this library, Sigmarus hoped to find at least one more on the second floor since he hadn’t been able to search every nook and cranny there yet. Today was also his last chance to find any since the place would be completely blocked off by Monday.

After climbing the creaky stairs leading to the second floor, he carefully walked to the last section he had yet to thoroughly check. While searching there, he wondered what the place might have looked like while in operation. It must have been quite lively, right? Seeing this library in such a state saddened him.

An hour or so passed during his search. Surprisingly, he discovered two books on the floor between the wall and the first shelf he had checked and happily stuffed them into his empty lunch cooler, but he failed to find any more while combing over everything else. With those two, he had found eleven books in total, increasing his full collection to almost one thousand books. Of those, he had read all but the most recent ones multiple times.

Figuring it was about time to give up and head home, he began his return to the stairway, still keeping an eye out just in case he missed anything. Sadly, he did not notice anything, but while descending the stairs, something caught his eye stuck between two bookshelves to his left. Eyes widened with hope, he quickly walked over to the shelves. There was indeed a book with a black cover lodged between the dilapidated shelves which looked close to crumbling at any moment. If not for the silver lettering on the cover of the book, he probably wouldn’t have noticed it at all. He quickly set down his belongings and knelt down in order to grab it.

When he tried to pull it out, he realized how tightly it was lodged between the shelves, almost as though someone purposely chose a book to place there that would be difficult to retrieve from between the shelves. Sigmarus frowned since he couldn’t get a good grip on it.

After a short but meaningless struggle, he thought, Fuck it.

Throwing away all his cares about this skeleton of a library, he stood up and kicked the rotted frame of the bookshelf, smashing the entire thing to bits. He lifted his arm to protect his exposed eyes from the flying splinters, which only added to his surprise when he heard a sound other than the bookshelf falling apart. Something heavy clunked against the floor, followed by a click, then a small thump. When he moved his arms away, he completely forgot about the book he had been trying to get his hands on, for there was an old metal briefcase sitting on its side amidst the splinters. Likely because of the visible rust, the intricate lock crumbled upon smashing against the hard floor, causing it to open and allow its contents to drop onto the floor as well. The object which had fallen out was something quite familiar to him as well.

“A laptop?” He mumbled to himself. Upon taking a closer look, he added, “Looks like a really old model, too. What the hell is it doing inside a bookshelf?”

Since his coworkers had probably all left by now, there probably wasn’t anyone to observe the appearance of the hidden object along with him. Thinking back on the stories he had read over the years, he imagined some grandiose setting of a spy stashing a hidden laptop containing government secrets in a place where nobody would think to look. His gray eyes brightened at the thought of possibly discovering a long lost secret. Finally! Something to break the monotony of this miserable life!

Hoping to keep this to himself, he looked around just to make sure he was alone. Satisfied that no one could take this moment from him, he grabbed the laptop which still looked unblemished as well as the book he had originally tried to grab. The book itself wasn’t anything special. It was just a fantasy story that he could sink his teeth into later. The laptop, on the other hand, caused his lips to curl into a smile behind the mouth filter of his helmet. He put both items inside his lunch cooler which was barely big enough to fit the laptop.

After stowing those things away, he double-checked the briefcase for anything else. Indeed, as he expected, there was a power cord inside but nothing else. With that, he hid the briefcase behind another bookshelf. Nobody would return to this place for a while, if ever, so it would probably be forgotten with time just like everything else covered up by the massive skyscrapers of this megacity.

With all of his belongings in hand again, Sigmarus exited the library and headed home.