One
I walk through the dark deserted streets of London, as the wind blows against my cold cheeks. It’s only the first month of 2101, but I wasn’t expecting this much chill. City centre’s usually flooded with people, but fear has taken over, and no one will come out at night. Even with the war over, people still won’t get over it. Maybe I just don’t get it because I was just a baby when everybody waved the white flag.
I look around for anyone that matches the description I was given. The hologram billboards bouncing off the tall metallic buildings radiate bright blue and purple lights. I turn at the sound of a petrol car passing by, followed by an empty police car with an automated voice telling the car to stop. The headlights of the cars blind me, but I can’t risk closing my eyes, not even for a second.
I cross the street and see a woman sitting by a shut-down Apple store. She’s dirty and smells bad, but as I make eye contact with her I can’t help but feel sorry for her. She’s not special, just one of the many homeless people in this city, but I can feel the pity building up inside me.
I slowly walk past her, knowing I need to keep going, but can’t help but stop at the sound of when I hear the hologram billboard.
“Oh, yes, I absolutely think that this NUS is going to try to attack Great Britain again.” Eric Ross says with his bright and perfect smile, as if all this is funny. He’s been trying to start a revolution since he was taken out of his position as Prime Minister. I wonder how long it’ll take the King to get rid of him, before Ross finally riles enough people to fight the monarchy “These are, arguably, the two most powerful countries in the world; Russia and the United States joining as one. The power they possess-”
“That bloke just loves to talk, doesn’t he?” A man beside me says. He’s leaning against the wall of a building behind us. I struggle to see his face from where I’m standing, but I decide to play it safe.
“Maybe he’s onto something.” I shrug calmly.
He snickers, “This idiot’s gonna to ruin the country. It’s a good thing King Theodore took charge before he could cause more damage.”
I really don’t like politics. “Mhmm. God save the king and all that.” I look around for a way out of this conversation, when I realize I can just walk away.
I go around him and head in the direction of the London bridge. More billboards with all sorts of ads about robots taking over more than just retail jobs blind me, but I ignore them like I ignore all the other blingy tech in this city.
I hear footsteps behind me, they’re slow but heavy. The London Bridge is in my line of vision, and I start walking faster. The footsteps get faster too and I immediately stop and turn.
I’m facing the same man who I just escaped, except this time I can see his face. A long scar runs from his eyebrow to his lip. He looks a bit scruffy, but I have a feeling that was a choice. One of his hands is made of metal so I know he’s a cyborg, maybe fought in the war. “Why are you following me?” I note that the streets are nearly empty.
“I have a message for you.” His voice is quieter but just as aggressive. I stay silent waiting for him to speak.
“Well go on then.” I roll my eyes.
“Right.” He puts his hands in his pocket, and I lift my hand over my head and slip out one of my katanas from my scabbard on my back. He stumbles back, his hand still in his pocket, as I point my katana at his chest. I stare at him, ready to fight, but he chuckles in a way that sounds like he’s clearing his throat. “No wonder she wanted you.”
“Who?” I put the end of my sword to his chest, “Who wants me?” I whisper-shout.
He lifts his hands up, an envelope in one of them. “It’s in the letter.”
Who still sends letters? I slowly point my katana down and grab the envelope from him. I put the envelope in my leather pack strapped to my waist. He looks at me intently, and I return his look with a death glare. “Well? If that’s it, you can go now.” He hesitates, “Piss off!”
“Okay, okay!” He turns around, muttering to himself, “Bloody women.”
I stand there, making sure he’s really left. Once I can no longer see him, I put my katana back in my scabbard, and keep walking towards the London Bridge.
Unfortunately for me, I’ve still got a job to finish.
As I get closer to the bridge, my E-watch vibrates. I hold my wrist up and swipe my finger over my watch screen. A little rectangle hologram hovers over my wrist, and I see a notification from my client.
I’m here. His text reads. I get onto the long Bridge, parts of it made of metal to replace the bits that were burned during the war. I get closer to the centre and spot a tall man – my client.
He sees me approach him, “Maeve?” I nod. He looks around and steps closer, “Where is it?” I open my leather pack and take out a little plastic filled with ice. “Didn’t you see the news? Plastic is now illegal.”
“Yeah, I don’t care.” I open the plastic and pull out a bare index finger. He jumps but clears his throat and holds his composure. I hold the finger up to his face and smirk, “Since you don’t want the plastic.”
He backs away, eyes wide, “No, actually, I’ll take the plastic.” He puts a handkerchief to his nose as I hand him the bag. “And you’re sure he’s dead?”
“Very. His finger isn’t the only thing that got chopped off.” He raises his eyebrow, “Don’t worry about it, just know he’s dead. So, if you could pay me so I can get the hell out of here.”
“Do we have to pay black people the same amount as white people?”
My eyes widen, “What kind of question is that? It’s 2101, what do you think?”
“I-I just thought that-”
“Just pay me!” I yell.
He quickly opens his E-watch and types a few things in. His SIM card inside his other wrist gets activated, making a little ding noise as it lights up in a bright blue. I do the same with my E-watch and SIM card. He puts his wrist to mine and a notification that my money’s been transferred to my SIM appears on my E-watch.
“Nice doing business with ya.” I turn around, and walk away, as it slowly starts to rain. I put my hood over my head and make my way to the nearest inn.
After some time walking in the rain, I finally find an inn. I approach the entrance which has a little machine in front of it that resembles an ATM. Of course, no one uses those anymore, but that’s what old people always say when they talk about the ‘good old days’.
The little machine asks me a few questions like my name and address, and I lie about every single one. After pressing my wrist to the scanner to pay, a keycard pops out of the bottom of the machine and I open the door. The elevator takes me to the 4th floor, where I find my room at the end of the hall.
I close the door behind me, and keep my lights off, turning the small lamp on instead. The room is simple, a bit like the ones at the crack house back in Kent. There’s a double bed with the standard white sheets, a small bathroom in the corner with cardboard and metal packaging on all the bathroom products. A little table and chair by the window, with a good enough view of the Big Ben. I take off my scabbard and the pocket knives strapped to my shins. After kicking off my heavy black leather boots, I order some food on JustDroneIt and empty my pack.
On my bed sits maps, little smoke bombs, lighter, my ID, cyanide pills(just in case), my notebook and pens, and of course, the letter.
I slowly reach for the envelope, and look at it closely. Whoever made this, clearly didn’t want to be tracked, or they’re too old to write an EMail like a normal person. I open the envelope and pull out the folded white paper inside. The paper is smooth and clean, not like the hard and dirty paper I’m always seeing.
I unfold the paper, and read the neat handwriting across the sheet.
Dear Maeve… best bounty hunter… bla bla bla… would love you to work with us… protection for the prince…bla bla bla… pay is up to your standard… accommodation… The Royal Family
At the bottom of the paper is a little circle of wax with the lion and horse symbol – the royal seal. They want me, a professional bounty hunter, to be the crowned prince’s bodyguard. Why would I ever want to work for the most controlling people in the country?
I scoff and pick up my lighter and set the letter a flame over the bathroom sink. The last thing I want to meddle with is this stupid monarchy. Tw
