Chapter Nineteen

Though the immediate dangers of a strike-turn-riot had dissipated with the forceful eviction of the disgruntled workers, that was not the end of your contract; rather, merely the beginning.

For the rest of the day, you were tasked with patrolling the perimeter with a group of three other Arasaka officers, ensuring that no strange packages had been secreted amongst the labyrinthian confines of the storage park; whilst simultaneously watchful for any sign of intrusion.

Whilst it was a dreadfully dull responsibility, unceasing repetition and walking chipping away at your willpower, it came with its own stresses; there was a reason that you were required to travel in groups of four, if you were to run into any intruders, there was little expectation of a timely rescue.

Your feet hurt, the soles of your corpo-issued boots studded with metal, making an irritating clicking sound that made you feel more like some dressed-up showman than the security guard you were; nevermind the fact that the office probably got your measurements wrong again because you'd swear these things were a size too small.

You're sweating in your clothes, the greyish knife-resistant fabric trapping your body heat, as you slowly cook beneath the sun's cruel gaze, your nose burnt by the petrochemical fumes carried westwards from the oil fields just further afield across the river that the City aside.

"Mind lending me that Braindance, you know; the one you got off the Mox?"

"Fuck off; that's the only thing I look forward to after work; I remember what happened to the last one I lent you."

There was no mental stimulation to be found when participating in a conversation with your foulmouthed coworkers; as with most of their contemporaries, they have fallen into a life of excess and sin to handle the stresses of their overbearing work life, if it wasn't money, sex or drugs; they weren't interested.

On the other hand, you have studiously avoided the harder boosters and chemicals easily purchasable off any streetcorner in NC and steered clear of braindances altogether; you can't afford to have an endorphin-pumping addiction when you're barely making rent as it is.

Though the lack of a meaningful outlet for your stress and worries has affected you; neither Chloe nor your fellow enforcers enjoy talking to you, nor spend too much time around you; you've become snappy, irritable and prone to lashing out when the opportunity presents itself.

So here you are, counting away your shift through your HUD, a stranger both at home and at work; when you were younger, you could not wait to start helping your family by carrying your weight, but now, you wish you were still a child, enviously looking back at the days you so thoroughly neglected.