Icarus

> JX 14, 1983 PA

They drained the tanks today. It's never really great, since it pollutes the water and all, but this time they burned them first. You could smell their flesh all the way down in Apartment 5F, and even though Corp tried to keep it on the down-low, everyone knew, and everyone ignored. Tanking isn't the most pleasant of things, but it's necessary. We've got a designated area on the Surface we can fill before we have to take to the water with a can of gasoline and light them up.

I don't know why they burned them all the way Down Here today, though, there's no real logic behind that. Mum told me she thinks it's to make a point. Yesterday a bunch of kids from my school stole a submarine and tried to leave, but Corp got them. I guess they were lucky. No one's brave enough to go up there dead, let alone still kicking.

I can still smell it. Diverside is deserted this time of day, since most people are working or in school, so there's no vendors to ruin the water with their artificial burger smells. They finally paved this road about a month ago, so I don't send up clouds of wet sediment with every step. That was so bothersome, everyone kicking dirt into each other's faces and mucking up their visors, spewing sorries left and right and trying to walk a little lighter.

My ringer goes off with a shocking beep. No one ever rings me, what are you doing, stranger?

Hesitant, I pick it up. We don't have caller I.D. here since all the suits are the same, but Mum tells me when she was tiny her own mum had caller I.D. on her mobile phone. She said the ringer was separate from you and you could leave it places if you wanted, which didn't really make sense, but being able to see who was calling you would be nice.

"Yeah?" I say into it.

"Where the hell are you, Lars?" It's Neo, I'd recognize his voice if I went deaf in both ears. He doesn't sound happy.

"Listen man," I begin, "I had things to do today, I couldn't make it to training--"

"You don't get it," Neo says. "There was a collapse today in the north wing. Killed ten guys, they're still looking for seven. Got twelve of 'em in the clinic with their hands squished against their faces trying to keep the water out." There's a brief itching noise. "Lucky I didn't have that class, but you did. Did you not hear anything?"

My heart sinks to my belly. "Stuff collapses every day, Neo. We live with mad amounts of pressure, so if we don't do things right, we suffer the consequences. No, I didn't hear anything, my telly's been disabled since I left the house."

"Something was really wrong today, man," says Neo absently. I can hear doors opening on his end, and the hiss of an airlock. He's safe. Good. "We had helmets shatter. People died because their helmets shattered, Lars. Their faces... they weren't faces anymore."

"I'll give my telly a check," I promise, but the last of his words send a chill down my spine. They weren't faces anymore.

There has to be something better than this.