Although it was morning, it was as dark as midnight. The sun didn’t shine in Babylon—ever. It had always been that way, at least since the war with the Shayateen. Rast said he hadn’t seen the sun either, and he was old. It was easy to forget something you’d never seen, night was as natural to Thaqib as anything. He didn’t think it was that big of a deal, in Babylon City, there was plenty of neon to light the dark.

A draft from the harbour blew through the street, Thaqib pulled his jacket tight. An opening between rows of shacks revealed the glittering black surface of the harbour. He heard its waters lapping against cement. He saw the canal offshoot from the harbour where he and Jazib had stashed their shredders earlier.

The air was salty with a hint of rotting trash. He fought off a sneeze. Directly above him, the sky was blotted out by a concrete ceiling sheltering the neighborhood. One of Babylon City’s many bridges passed directly over his street. He coughed. The air tickled his throat. Although the bridge kept the place dry from the rain that always hung over the island, the trade-off was the stench of exhaust fumes that wafted down into the street and hung about in a soft haze. As he walked, Thaqib felt the ground vibrate from the traffic passing overhead.

He made his way down water-slicked asphalt, past the other shacks that hung out over filthy black water, families stealing a place for a home in an overpopulated urban sprawl. Things weren’t all bad though, better here than in the wastes on the outskirts of the city. At least here they had power.

Everywhere, black wires hung like jungle vines, wreathed around anything that would have them, sputtering in the rain, shooting off sparks and sending warped shadows flashing against soot stained concrete. Most of the electricity down here was illegal, siphoned off from the main grid, usually connected to multiple sources to combat the blackouts.

In the middle of the neighborhood—ringed by a disused car park, occupied now by only the burned out husk of an old station wagon—was Lucky Dragon Takeaways, a small shop where you could get all your greasy delights. Chips, donuts—if it was cheap and deep fried, you could get it here. It stood akin to an oasis in the dark underground, lit up by harsh fluorescents from a single functioning street lamp. Upon the shop’s roof, the outline of a coiling dragon smiled down in red neon. A group of kids hung out the front of it, sharing a bottle of orange drink between them—the contents of which were so artificial, the bottle was practically luminescent. The kids blasted music from a portable speaker as they banged on an old arcade machine glowing blue in the dim light. The kid’s faces were powdered gray, some of them wearing glowing fake teeth, emulating the Babylonians they saw on billboards and screens around the city.

He headed toward the harbour and his usual route to East Port. There, he had to catch a crew-boat out to the barge he worked on in the harbour, scavenging trash from the seabed. He looked out between the shacks and could see it out there, a blinking light amongst a hundred others, beyond them, the wall silhouetted against the soft glow of the Veil.

He heard squawking gulls as he neared the end of the street and approached the pier. Up ahead lay the boatyard, steel frames of rotted ships were piled up like bones of extinct sea-life.

He made his way closer to the boatyard and noticed two familiar figures sitting astride a decaying scud boat. Thaqib would recognize those orange shades anywhere. Malik and Samir. He felt unchecked rage rising up. For a second he reconsidered letting it take hold, but only for a second. He felt his fists flexing as he brushed his chin and walked toward the two youths.

“Yo! What’s up with you two running out on us last night?” Thaqib said, barging toward them. Malik turned and quickly jumped down to the ground, adopting a more confrontational stance. Samir however sat as he was, not seeming to get the cue.

Malik turned to Samir, whacking him on the leg, “Yo, get down here!”

Samir finally caught on. “Oh, yeah,” he said, hopping down and standing next to Malik, folding his arms and doing his best tough guy act.

“Like I said last night,” Malik began, “we didn’t sign up for that. You wanna get sent to Hexagon that’s on you.”

“You said you were down for the mission before we left. Thought you had our backs—but then you go and bail on us at the first sign of trouble? You’re a couple of cowards.”

“What’s that?” Malik said stepping forward. “That’s the problem—you’re always talking about missions. We’re just lookin’ for a way to blow off steam, but you always gotta get all serious—talkin’ about bringing down Babylon and all that. It’s ridiculous!” He turned to Samir, digging an elbow into his arm.

“Oh—ridiculous!” Samir added.

Thaqib rubbed his hands together. “You wanna waste your life playin’, so be it. You’re out, don’t even try comin’ out with us again.”

“Man, you sound like a punk! I’m tired of hearin’ you whine, best you get moving along ‘till we have a problem,” Malik replied.

“Oh yeah?” Thaqib said.

They looked each other in the eyes, trying to show who was boss.

“Heh, you wanna test me?” Malik said, “Wanna try out some a’ those moves ol’ Rast has been teachin’ you?”

“He’s been tryin’ ta enlighten him,” Samir corrected.

“Can’t believe you buy into all that stuff he goes on about. It’s all fake, don’t you get it? Made up by a bunch of primitive fools in the past who didn’t understand reality,” Malik said.

“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Thaqib replied.

“Neither does Rast! Bet he thinks he knows what’s behind Ghostgate too. He’s just a know-it-all.”

“Rast knows more than you ever will, that’s for sure,” Thaqib replied.

“Let’s see what he knows then!” Malik said, shoving Thaqib hard in the shoulder.

“Don’t,” Thaqib said.

“Sounds like he’s gettin’ mad,” Samir said, getting giddy.

Malik shoved him again, “Come on. Maybe you don’t wanna admit the truth?”

“What truth?” Samir asked, genuinely curious.

“That ol’ Rast is off his rocker,” Malik replied.

“Haha, yeah, he’s crazy!” Samir added.

“What’d you say?” Thaqib said stepping to Malik.

“You heard me. Rast is nuts, and he’s infected you with it. We used to have fun, but now you’re always off on some trip, thinking you’re gonna bring down Babylon by sprayin’ up a few billboards. Man, that’s gotta be the definition of crazy!” Malik said as he dug a finger into Thaqib’s chest. “You know what I think? You don’t wanna admit that you’re nothing. Just a dirty trash-picker like the rest of us. You’re tryin’ to come up with some story that makes you out to be from some proud lineage, but in truth you’re just an orphan street rat that Rast dug out of the trash!”

Thaqib didn’t know what came over him, he suddenly felt a surge of rage well up inside him, taking control of his body. Before he realized what was happening, Malik was on the ground, blood coming from his mouth, Thaqib’s fist balled tight.

Suddenly, Samir leapt at him, knocking him to the ground. Malik quickly scrambled up and held him down, punching him in the face. Thaqib got up blocking a roundhouse from Samir and delivering a strike into his abdomen sending him keeling to the ground.

Malik took advantage of his distraction, clocking him square in the side of the head. Thaqib went down hard into the dirt.

“Where are those moves yo? What you been doin’ with Rast all this time?” Malik said delivering a kick into Thaqib’s ribs, knocking the wind out of him. He tried to get up but Samir laid another punch right in his face. He protected his head as more kicks and flailing punches landed on him.

There was a sudden opening between strikes and Thaqib launched himself up, tackling Malik and running back with him, slamming him into a cement wall. Samir was on him immediately, pulling him off and throwing him to the ground. They came at him again, this time they kept him down and all he could do was weather the beating.

“You act all tough, like you’re fighting for something, but when it comes down to it, you’re just a weak kid who can’t handle himself,” Malik said. He delivered a hard kick into Thaqib’s stomach that made him see stars. Suddenly he heard the sound of an approaching drone. He wiped the blood from his lip as he looked up. “Ha! Babylon’s here to save you. What do you think about that?” Malik said.

“Mako!” yelled Samir.

“Yeah, let’s roll,” Malik replied.

“What about Thaqib?” Samir said looking at Thaqib struggling to get up.

“What about him?” Malik said, turning away and running off.

Samir stood a moment, confused. “Thought we were just playin’?” He said, looking blankly at Thaqib then back to Malik leaping over a cinder block wall. He gave Thaqib one last glance, shrugged, then followed after.

Thaqib rubbed the dirt off his face and sat up. He saw the glowing light of the drone approaching, skimming across the pier. “Damn,” he said and tried to make a run for it but a sharp pain in his abdomen stopped him in his tracks. The Mako spotted him and swerved toward him, water spraying up after it from puddles on the concrete. He knew he was caught.

The Mako hovered above him, a net of green laser flickering upon his face—scanning him.

“Resident #889AF22, you are charged with disturbance of the peace. You receive two demerits. Records indicate you will be late for your shift at East Port dock. Make your way there immediately or face further disciplinary measures,” the Mako drone said in a digitized voice.

Thaqib got up and dusted himself off. “Yeah,” he replied, picking up his bag. Demerits were no joke. Get enough of them and you’d be shipped to Hexagon. Every citizen in Babylon had a score and if you weren’t careful, it could drop into the negatives, then it would be all over. Thankfully, he’d had his mask handy last night or he’d be well into the red.

He brushed himself off as the Mako darted away in search of the other two infringers of the so-called peace. Thaqib was eager to get away from the Mako as quickly as he could. They made him, like they did all residents, feel on edge, their cold and calculating AI made them unpredictable and heartless in their judgments. More than once he’d seen someone perfectly innocent at the mercy of their tasers, being hauled off never to be seen again.

He checked his watch, realizing the drone had been right, he was late. “Damn, not again.” If he had kept his cool and not gotten tangled up with those two he’d already be there by now.

He walked quickly along the pier, pulling his jacket tighter around his neck. It was always cold in B.C. but today there seemed to be an extra chill in the air.

In the distance, Babylon City rose into the storm clouds, toxic green lights staining the sky. He wiped away the water that accumulated upon his brow, the drizzling rain rarely let up around East Port, giving everything a glistening sheen.

Up ahead, he saw one of the large highways that wound their way around the city. This particular one connected to the bridge that ran over his neighborhood. He could hear the sound of the traffic above, the acrid exhaust making his nose sting.

The traffic weaved atop a large flood wall that weaved its way along the shoreline. The tropical monsoons could bring the water up ten feet or more, so all the roads in B.C. had to be elevated. Water was an ever present feature of B.C, from the turbulent sea that bashed the retaining walls surrounding the island, to the constant rain. It felt like nothing was ever dry.

As he made his way closer to the port, he saw two armored B.C.P.D. vehicles parked up on the road to the port checkpoint. A group of agents were watching the area, cloaked in black, rain beading on their protective gear. He wondered what was up with the increased security, first the drone and now this? He saw the checkpoint rising up ahead, a huge black cement wall with an accompanying guard tower.

He dreaded dealing with the checkpoint every day, as did everyone else that worked on the harbour and had to get through it to be allowed into the port. As he got closer, he passed by more heavy vehicles, gloss-black with tires so big they dwarfed him.

When he was finally close enough to the checkpoint he was shocked to discover that it was completely crowded, the lines far longer than he’d ever seen them.