The Delivery

Years ago the rich people decided that cleaning the air would be too costly, but pushing it away? Piece of cake.

So at first they built giant fans pointed down which evolved eventually into complex mechanisms that could pump air pollution directly to sea level and keep it there.

And now 9 billion sets of lungs are cleaning centuries of air pollution while the rich live high above.

They call it the puddles because of the near constant rain, dripping through the layers, picking up pollution and crap forming fat droplets of toxic sludge. Truth is it's disgusting, it smells, it burns your lungs and the taste...

The rich built their megatowers to get away from the pollution which messed up the water cycle. How? Ask a scientist I don't know. What I do know is they call it a rainforest effect except instead of some beautiful lush forest it's a shit stained torrent of filth dumping down on us.

I started a new job a week ago, job perk? A sweet mark 3 umbrella. I'm talking a gyro stabilized pole with a castoring wheel and fiber reinforced ribs. All I have to do is keep it with me and upright and it does the rest! Of course I still need hip waiters for the bottom half but yesterday my umbrella took a direct hit from some construction materials and I came out unscathed.

My office is on the corner of who cares and who gives a shit. Really it has names but no one relies on them anymore in the puddles. Instead we all go by beacon code, and my office is at beacon P-856#J65, not that even that matters.

But in the puddles beacons matter, sometimes the rain is so thick and dark that you can't see, so we rely on our augmented eyesight lighting up beacons ahead of us. It's not uncommon to bump into someone, or something when it's that dark. I've had some nasty...

I stepped into the foyer of my office, jets of cool water cleaning off my umbrella, once clean I collapsed it and tucked it into my cubby.

My job is bullshit, everything in the puddles is, they give us work to keep us... Occupied I guess? Too busy to rebel? I sat down at my desk and pushed the piles of paper around until I had enough room to spread out my breakfast.

Today was simple, two reds and a green. The reds are high protein meal bricks, tastes like a milky coconut chicken. The greens are a plant based brick, I'm reliably told they taste like snap peas but I can't afford them to compare. But they're sweet and have a fresh taste. There's also yellow, a fish based brick, and brown, a sugar based brick and it tastes wonderful when toasted.

I'm midway through my first chunk of red when I heard the first thunder clap. I run towards the window in time to see large clumps of garbage falling from the sky.

Luckily no one was out there, I stood at the window just in case until I wandered back to my desk to fetch more red. Rich people toss their garbage rather than pay collection fees. For some reason they make a ton of noise on the way down. Something something about... Science.

When I turned back to my desk Smyth was waiting there, he had a brown and yellow stacked together and he was noisily chewing away. Technically he's my boss but he's yet to command enough respect from me to call him that, especially in this job market where I could flag unemployed while walking to my to desk and have 5 offers by the time I sit. Seriously the puddles is full of work if you want it.

"Got a job for you. Might even get you some fresh air for a turn or two."

I offered him a piece of red and he declined politely, good I hate sharing, "Fresh?"

"Got a very rare escort job, you'll be walking cargo through every inspection gate, doing paperwork ahead of time and submitting them in person."

That's strange. And a waste of time, even if it means fresh air, those gates are all automated, no human to impress, or bribe, no one to interact with, the route is even fully secure start to finish, no need to escort it. "The whole thing is automated," I said with a mouthful of red, "What's the catch?" I asked as I eyed Smyth, his face crinkled into smile. "The catch is simple, some rich person gets their cargo through the system extra fast by someone who has been trained to expedite." Extra fast? By hours maybe.

Smyth pushed the last of his yellow brick into his face and smiled. "Go visit stores, it's currently winter in the fresh air, we wouldn't want you getting sick." He stood up and pushed a folder into my hands. He looked like he was and to say something but stopped.

Smyth is buckets of weird. Once he was done talking he rocketed off into literally any direction to escape any chance of the conversation continuing. I watched as he stumbled into an overflowing garbage can with the grace of a pregnant cow. At least... I think it was a cow from what I remember in the film strips.

I opened up the folder he handed to me, a type 7 container? I searched my desk for the reference manual, ok table of contents.... container types.... 6 types. I brought up my interface and searched for Type 7 container. Nothing. I switched to the internal network and searched again, nothing. Hmm.

I checked the folder again - the type 7 container is 7ft long x 3 ft and weighs over 400lbs. Whoa. It's got compressor beams, this thing will float about 3ft off the ground, ok so I gotta make sure I don't wear steel toe boots otherwise I'll melt.

I leaned back into my chair and kept flipping through the folder. I'm not just going up into the fresh I'm going to the very top. The building is about a block from here, it goes right into space and my container is going to be loaded into a waiting ship in orbit. What's super weird is there's nothing that we produce down here that's worth shipping... anywhere. We usually ship down, across, and back up. The puddles has a legacy of underground high speed tunnels connecting most of the world. We're usually fast shipping stuff from one rich person to another, but this... hmmm.

I gather up the rest of my food and head to stores. To my surprise they're expecting me. Stores is a Clothing as a Service offering from some old brand. They specialize in making puddles people look presentable. I looked at the wall nearest the changing room, they had a dozen zoomed in photos of men's hairstyles.

I'm betting I'll need a haircut too. The workers already had my corporate ID, plan number, and size on file, updated last week during my weekly hot water shower, and they waved at my hair while making strange disappointed sounds.

Soon enough I was out of there in all new clothes and with a haircut I'm assured is "hip" among the clean air class which frankly I think I looks stupid.

The jacket they gave me is something else though. I'm used to wearing clothes made for the puddles, think waxed cotton but less comfortable. It's designed to slough off the brown "rain water" that falls from the sky here in the puddles. It's also a tough fabric, in case garbage or a human body falls on you (yeah really), it'll react to external stresses and acts like body armour. I hear the military uses a more advanced version.

This new jacket they gave me is designed for fresh air, it automatically adjusts to keep you the right temperature, it has built in nano-scale ventilation to keep you cool or to warm you up depending on the environment. It also has a more reactive shell to protect yourself from debris. It even has a hood that can double as an emergency helmet in case you're spaced. I guess at low earth orbit it's quite dangerous to be outside..? I don't understand the need but I'm assured it can withstand point blank shots from all but the most aggressive guns. Can a gun be aggressive? I should have asked more questions when I was there but the lady kept snapping her fingers at me whenever I talked and it was very rude and extremely distracting.

I returned to my desk and spent the 5 minutes it takes to generate the appropriate paperwork to move a container from where it is to where it needs to go, I printed off everything just in case and headed up to the secure bridge that connects my building to the next one. No outside for me, I have a pass.

---

The bridge security gave me grief but did let me pass, I had a printout of the paperwork because I had a feeling their scanners would be down. Everything is always down. We suck. The puddles sucks.

On the other side of the bridge I was met by an armed and very dangerous looking detail surrounding what I assumed was a Type 7 container.

They wore head to toe body armour, black, with full helmets, black, and big guns, black, and big heavy black boots. The only piece of colour on them was some sort of symbol on their arms

The leader stepped forward and pointed at me, he then pointed at a symbol on his arm, three lightning bolts and a blue skull, and then made the slit your throat sign across his neck.

I've no fucking clue what that symbol means so I shrugged, pulled down my shirt and pointed at my tattoo of a toilet humping a toilet paper roll, I then made an O with my fingers and was about to start humping it with my other hand when he back handed me hard. He dragged me to the container a cuffed me to it, he then toggled a switch on his glove and spoke.

"You made us wait, don't be late next time. Our orders are to hand off the container here and pick it up again at the top. 7 hours, don't be late."

"It's a ten hour transit, at least. Also I can't leave until I know what's inside."

"Jesus kid, first rule of clandestine operations, don't ask what's in the box."

"First rule of shipping, literally the first field on the form is container contents."

Stalemate. I tried to stare at where I think his eyes would be but I was just staring at a blank matte panel. I'm stood up now and looking at the cuff, it's like nothing I've ever seen.

"It's on a need to know basis." Came his eventual reply.

"So you don't know either eh? I'll just put misc components. Also from here on in these checkpoints are automated, separate gates for people and cargo, I can't be cuffed to this thing. The AI are too stupid to figure out what to do with me."

"You'll figure something out." Came his brief response before the group of what I presume to be soldiers marched off.

I guess I'll figure something out.

---

The first lift will take me up to the 100 level, about 350meters up. I tried to get comfortable on the lift but the cuff kept me pretty tight to the container. Lucky I had priority / isolated status otherwise the elevator would be jammed full of cargo and I'd be really screwed.

After a torturous amount of time the door slid open and I walked the container out. Gate 2. As expected it was fully automated and actually functioning for a change. I walked the container up to the scanner, scanned the pass and tried to walk it through.

Shockingly it didn't stop me, I walked right on through. I probably got a decades worth of x-rays just now though. Assuming it's an older x-ray machine and not something newer. Magnets.... Science.

The lift at the other end of the hall slid open and I walked in. 100 stories until the next gate.

I was startled out of my reverie by the container, it made a strange noise. Sounded. Strange. Ignore it, no don't get curious. Ignore it.

The lift doors opened, I walked through security without a hiccup, onto the next lift.

The container made another noise. Sounds rhythmic. Sounds like banging. Ignore ignore ignore!

Next security gate, more noise, ignore, gate, noise, ignore, gate, noise, noise, can't ignore!

Finally somewhere in the 800's I stopped and looked at the damn container. It was smooth except for a small console interface, the kind you need a tool to open. Ok, problem solved, I can't open it without the tool. Back to ignoring. And yet... Every container has an emergency open, something that voids the warranty and notifies the owners but a legit way of opening them just in case.

Like just in case someone is trapped inside.

I searched the container, top, bottom, sides, I even tried to peak at the compressor beam emitters to see if there was a shutoff in literally the most dangerous part of the container. Nothing.

I stared blankly at the container, listening to the now rhythmic pounding from within. Pound pound pound, slap slap slap, pound pound pound, pause, repeat. Wait.

I loaded up my interface, it took me all of two seconds to figure out that that was Morse code for SOS. Someone is in there, this isn't a monkey, or a weird thing... It's a person.

I repeated the pattern from the outside, the pounding stopped, and then got even louder. Ok think think think. The lift doors opened and I walked the container out a few meters from the lift and stopped. I looked around. Plain hallway, no tools, nothing really. I looked outside.

Outside.

I can see the sun through the clouds. The clouds aren't brown they're... fluffy and white. I haven't seen this since a grade school trip years ago...

The thumping resumed and it broke me from my reverie. I glanced back at the sun before renewing my investigation of the container. The console interface looks to be the only way in. I looked at the connector, it's a type 9, I only carry type C on me. I shrugged and tried to plug my C in anyways and got nowhere. I can't even find the seam that allows this thing to open. I switched over to my enhanced optics, I hate using them for anything other than beacon navigation because I'm in that 15% of the population who gets crazy headaches from them.

Whoa. This thing is pumping out information. Location details, restrictions, security tags, radiation warnings, biohazard warnings, warning warnings... I should not be chained to this thing.

But still no clear way in. The only way I can help is to rejoin the people at the top so I rushed the container through the security checkpoint and into the waiting lift.

Thumping, lift, security, thumping, lift security, thumping. My anxiety is going through the roof, I feel like if we cracked it open right now whoever was in there would be at the edge of death.

I chanced a look outside, gone were the clouds and now I could see a band of light vs dark, space vs home. I did up my jacket and primed my hood. Gotta be ready.

Finally at the top. Spaceport. I've never seen one before, in person I mean. Lots of TV dramas start or end at a spaceport. Usually they hero chases a crook to this level and stops them just in the nick of time.

Those soldiers are waiting for me, I checked the time, I did it in 6 hours... Sprinting between checkpoints really makes a difference. Of course I can't see their faces but I hope they're happy to see me.

One of the soldiers uncuffed me and then started to push me back to the lift with his rifle. I was about to say something when I was hit with the rifle butt. The door closed and they slipped away as I went down. But I only went down one floor.

The door opened to some sort of lounge, one soldier was here along with some fancy looking people in suits.

"Ah. Good. The delivery boy. Any troubles?" Asked one of the seated men, he had a wickedly evil looking goatee, jet black, but a shock of white hair on top. He was very large, by the looks of what he was wearing he was so large he needed assistance moving.

"Troubles? Well the container was making noises, that's why I rushed it up here."

The suits stirred. "Did you hear anything?" Asked Goatee.

"No. Well I mean aside from the thumping you mean? Nothing else, I couldn't tell if it was a person or mechanical or something else."

Goatee stroked his goatee menacingly before nodding to the soldier. I was expecting him to push me into the lift like the last one but instead he pushed me out of the room and into a long corridor. He used the butt of his rifle to really bash in my right knee before hitting a button on the wall that I didn't notice until now. Suddenly the wall opened up and we were exposed to space. His boots locked down magnetically but I was sucked out.

My hood immediately became a helmet as designed and I was breathing ok, but alarms were going off all around.

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck!

The hood has a heads up display with a countdown timer, I had just over a minute to get back inside before I run out of air. I'm tumbling around, I can't see anything to grab. My jacket sent out an alert, someone must be there to rescue me!

Nothing. Nobody. I could hear something ruffling at the edges of my jacket, it's air! I must not have been in space but right at the edge. I watched the tower beside me whipping by as I increased speed downward.

I plunged through the white fluffy high altitude clouds and could see the sun. Beautiful.

The jackets emergency helmet blinked off, ran out of power I guess, but the air was breathable despite it becoming faster and harder to breath.

I could see a lattice of bridges below me, connecting buildings to each other. Surely someone knows I need saving!

I narrowly missed each of them by what seemed to be fractions of a micron.

Faster still.

Brown clouds now, I'm at the top of the puddles.

Faster.

The air tastes horrible, disgusting, and I'm soaking wet.

I don't seem to be going any faster not that it matters.

I plunge further into the cloud mass, it's getting thicker now, heavy with pollutants, heavy with whatever is in the clouds that makes them like this.

Thunder claps blow out my ear drums as electricity sparks all around me.

I look down and spot Smyth walking without an umbrella. He's not looking up despite the thunder claps, the universal warning of the puddles.

I tried yelling but before I could get a sound out my mouth filled with god knows what.

I'm inches from Smyths head. He's got a bald spot. Huh I never noticed that before.