**
“Did you hear that the Exodus is starting?” Martina asked me after we got a table on one of the terraces facing the downtown roundabouts. “They’re announcing an initial list of citizens for the first round of shuttles.”
“No, I didn’t hear anything,” I said. There was still plenty of noise from the busy downtown, but not as deafening as the nightclub.
“Yeah, they say that they’re going to start with City Central dwellers. That should make our lives easier, eh boys! It makes sense though. The overpopulation is starting to get ridiculous in those neighbourhoods. It looks like the World Government is doing things properly for a change. A lot of those people are desperate in the cramped City Central. Nobody knows that better than us cops who have to deal with these conditions first-hand. To tell you the truth, I’m pretty excited about it.”
“Awww,” I said with raised eyebrows. “Excited! Do I hear positive sounds coming from Martina Lever, the queen of cynicism?”
“Realism, Jonz, realism is the proper term.”
“Soldiers are not paid to think.”
“I thought you said we were cops?”
“In this transition phase, I don’t even know which we are.”
“We’re World Government Policing and Military recruits,” stated Doug.
“Let’s drink to that,” cheered Martina, and we all clinked glasses.
“Look who doesn’t have any dates?”
The voice was Andy’s. He stood over us with a female piece of arm-candy draped around him. It was the sort of girl you always saw with Andy. He cruised the bars every chance he got, always looking for the same type. Fashionably dressed, with the serious gaze of a model, the girl had to have the stance and posture that stated that they were chic and hip to all the latest trends. But if you looked deep into their eyes, they had to have nothing of substance beyond their "overly-caked-with-make-up" faces. It was always the perfect match. I sometimes wondered why he bothered to change girls--they all looked the same.
“This is Tiffany,” he said.
He took two chairs from another table without asking the couple sitting there whether he could. The man gestured as if he would say something, but Andy didn’t give him the time. He motioned for Doug to move over so we could all fit uncomfortably at the one table.
“I think there’s a nice romantic spot over there.” I motioned to a table at the far end of the terrace.
“If it’s romantic, then I guess you won’t need it, ehhh Jonz?” He chuckled.
Tiffany looked quizzically at all of us. I figured she wouldn’t even know how to get involved in the conversation if we didn’t discuss clothes or make-up; then again, looks can be deceiving. Yet she fell for one of Andy’s lines--so probably not.
“I woulda guessed you three woulda been huddled together, discussing proper settings for your laser guns.”
“Listen to the scholar.” Martina laughed. “I didn’t know that you had depth enough to notice intellectual variances in your co-workers.”
“Why don’t you go lift some bar-bells butch?” Andy barked.
“I don’t want to embarrass the big, strong man by out lifting him.”
“My, my, the conversation certainly takes a turn for the better when you show up Stoneman,” I said.
“Can’t you guys take a joke? Relax, have a drink on me.” Andy waved his arm towards the waiter.
Martina turned to me. “I suppose if we can handle this guy. Terrorists will be a cake-walk.”
Andy laughed. Tiffany appeared startled and looked around, perhaps to see if there was a clown doing tricks.
“I don’t think we should make jokes about that. We’re all going to be going down to Earth soon; and not to the safe areas where the Exodus will begin. We’re going to the front, to battle for more land from those terrorists. We shouldn’t joke about that. It’s too serious,” said Doug.
"Geez Lloyd, you're still as bad as high school. You may have gotten the best grades out of all of us, but you always thought too much," Andy said and looked at me. "Right Jonz?"
"I don't know. I wasn't there, remember?"
"Oh yeah, I keep forgetting. You're parents kept you locked in a closet until Police Academy."
"Not really Stoneman. Just home-schooled."
"Whatever. You were hidden from sight."
“Don’t think about it too much Doug; it won’t do you any good,” I said, turning to Doug.
“But still, you know what I mean,” Doug said.
“Yeah, we all know.”
“Waiter, waiter!” Andy yelled.
“Only order for the four of you,” I told Andy.
"Always the first to leave--eh Jonz?!" Andy said, "Daddy making you train early?"
"That's right--or I'd stay here all night listening to you three."
I made my way away from the bright lights and towards one of the checkpoints to the darker City Central streets. The career cop manning that checkpoint looked at me, puzzled, but let me by when I showed him my ID card. It was always the old guys at these checkpoints--barely awake. The dark streets left me blind after the brightness of downtown. I looked up at the cramped towers of apartments lining both sides of the narrow street. This close to downtown, it must be impossible to sleep for the people in there. I retraced my steps to where Andy and I had been on patrol the night before. I walked into the illegal bar that Andy and I had been in the night before. The one-armed bartender looked at me suspiciously, and then allowed himself a little smile.
“I didn’t recognize you without your uniform,” he said.
“I’m looking for someplace quiet,” I said as I pulled out a stool and sat at the bar.
“Are you sure you want to be seen in an illegal place like this?”
“If it’s good enough for war veterans, it’s good enough for me.”
The beers flowed easily and I found myself having trouble getting up from the bar. I didn’t know why, but this bar felt more real, more comfortable than any other place in the Domed City. There was no pretence about it. There were no illusions, no attempts to cover up the fact that we were orbiting around the Earth in an illusionary attempt to recreate an Earth City. It was ironic, this city.
It was two o’clock in the morning when I left. I walked out laughing to myself at the irony of what I was doing; breaking the same curfew I was sworn to uphold. The curfew that everyone ignored and we enforced only when it suited our purposes. It felt good to act like a regular person.
Near the end of my pit stop at the veterans’ bar, I had stopped drinking and was starting to sober up. I guess I didn’t like drinking that much. I had it in the back of my mind to get really crossed-eyed drunk for a change, but it just didn’t suit me. The idea of it felt better than the real thing. As I walked out I marvelled at the more seasoned drinkers in the establishment—how do they do it night after night? I suppose it’s nothing to be admired. It was the same gang as the night before, and they all bid me farewell like we were now long time buddies.
I suppose I didn’t consciously retrace my steps from the night before, but that’s what I did none the less. Something was drawing me in that direction and I have to admit I knew what it was.
That girl.
I continued out to the next street, not much lighter than the alleyway; and there she was, just around the corner, not straying too far from the point of our most recent encounter. I think I must have been looking for her. I knew any rational person would disapprove. I felt a twinge in my heart, and it angered me. What was I really doing there? I should be home.
“Are you okay?” I said as I spotted her.
She was startled at first. I'm sure it was not the sort of personal question that men asked her when they came up to her. Her expression became stern for a second as she looked at me. Then her face softened. “I didn’t recognize you without your uniform.”
“That’s okay; I didn’t think you would expect to see me again.”
“I guess not.”
“I never asked you, what’s your name?”
“Melissa. What’s yours?”
“Tyler. Those guys, did they bother you tonight?”
“Not tonight. They’re busy.”
“Where do you live now?” I asked and she took me by the hand.
We walked down the block. Here was where all the poor people lived. She was far from where she had grown up. I didn't mention I recognized her from the Outskirts.
Despite the curfew, there was always some noise in these highly populated areas. I could hear a couple arguing a few floors up. You could almost walk into people in the street, everything was so poorly lit. Without my uniform, no one rushed back into the many entrances that lined the narrow streets. I looked over my shoulder, afraid to see other cops. It wouldn't look good for me.
When we arrived at her building, she led me into the entrance with a content smile. First thing I noticed was plumbing dripping from overhead and I almost slipped at the entrance of the elevator. Maintenance was not a top priority in these areas. Many floors up, we finally arrived at the her apartment door. Inside her place, there was nothing impressive. The walls were close and all the basic utilities of survival were crammed around a room with a tiny window and a double bed in the middle. The bed appeared to take three quarters of the open space. It was not pretty, but dull light shone through the tiny window, a faint ray of light beamed into the center of the bed. Floating dust particles danced in the beam of light, making it look almost solid.
We fell together on the bed, sending a current of air through the lightened dust particles. The current sent the dust clouds dancing in many directions while we embraced. Previously, it had been awkward and forced; a mating ritual that was more expected than desired. This was different. We fell into each other’s longing grasps easily, explored freely, and I felt more at ease than I ever did before. Sweat fell and intermingled, joining as one.