He'd lived in the city all his life. When his father was still alive however, he'd dreamed of leaving and joining the Great Descenders just like his father. He'd even made plans for a better house once their ship got to Earth and the people there received them, just like the Patriach had told them.
It had been, of course, against the laws set by the Council upon The Moon. That was the beauty of it in fact, his father had told him, a smile plastered on his face; and he had believed him.
He didn't believe in those words anymore than he believed the Patriach still lived. No, the blinding light from the missile strike on that wee ship burned out that sort of faith from his soul. But he wished deep down that old heathen was alive somewhere so he could one day kill him.
Yes he'd tear his throat so he would never take fathers from their sons.
Now he lived in the worst parts of Old Washington, with a salary worse than his father's used to be and a much more troubled child.
A techie she'd call him and smile at him when she was aright in the head. At others she'd stare at him in his blue shirt and black pants after a day's work with so much pity and disgust, he'd miss dinner.
He worked six days a week and on the final one he'd lock himself up in his room till evening searching the old internet for something he never understood. Then he'd walk it off, just as he was about to do now, to clear his head and get himself ready for the next week.
He pulled on a grey hoodie and a not-so-clean pair of socks and got out of the room. Suzie, the troubled child sat in front of the Web Television sucking at a lollipop. He smiled at the sight, peaceful. Only for a moment.
Pressing the button for the door to open, he took in a deep breath and took into the cold and stale air of Lobby Street. He'd time himself for 15 minutes then he'd be back to make a meal for the child.
He liked cooking, just like his father had liked cooking. He loved other things that his father would have scorned him for like work. It gave him a purpose other than his deep rooted desire to flount rules set by City Council and the lot.
A turn, then another around the block and two more were left for him. He stopped to tie his shoes and looked around at his fellow city dwellers. Some, he saw were off to their night shifts in their black overalls and long coats. Others were just like him, casually dressed and out for a stroll, but the unlucky ones sat in tattered clothes on random corners begging.
Of course they would also be lucky if they worked for the local drug gangs. He'd considered joining one of them when he started out after his old man's death. He almost considered it as he avoided eye contact with one of the 'beggers' on his third turn.
Maybe he'd become a techie for them too and..
No no too much heat with that sort of business. It would disappoint his father too, not that he cared!
The last turn was the furthest and his favourite. It gave him a chance to approach his piece of shit house without being noticed by anyone. When he came home on some days after having a bit of fun with his work mates in Matty's underground bar, he liked not being noticed. He liked not being noticed other times too.
He turned sharply towards where he came from as a large bang sounded. He saw smoke rising from what he made out to be his own block and started running. He'd gotten to the second turn when he saw the flames rising from his house. He felt their burn on his skin as he got closer to his door and tried getting in.
The outer button was molten already, he hit it with his hand incessantly when the door didn't open. Nobody held him back when he burned himself pushing against the hot steel door that singed his skin. Nobody helped him when he climbed against the broken walls of his neighbours house to get into his own.
His neighbour was dead, bits of his body spattered on the wall that separated the two houses. A gaping hole allowed him to rush into his house yelling Suzie's name.
Nobody heard him as he yelled himself hoarse, not even the troubled child herself. He rummaged through the debris countless times burning and bleeding his hands but she was no more than the smoke that choked him.
Finally, he sat in a corner holding his knees, staring around the room but only seeing one face again and again.