Nano Bytes

kgillenwater Torch

I kept the face shield down low over my eyes. The heat grew intense. Suffocating. I wore nothing more than the threadbare uniform I’d been given three years ago. Sweat poured down my back. I kept my gaze focused on the work in front of me. Inch by inch. Moment by moment.

The torch cut easily through the metal plate. Just like Gray Man promised it would. For once he’d told the truth. It had been worth the trade. So I’d given up my one ratty blanket. Who cared? I wouldn’t need that blanket anymore.

The torch, crafted from bits and pieces gathered over months, belched out an inconsistent sputter of bright green plasma. The metal melted away. Harsh white light on the other side of the wall shone through the narrow slit I’d created with my newly acquired tool.

Freedom. Freedom. Freedom.

The chant filled my head. My whole body tensed at the possibility. I’d forgotten what it was like. All I knew was orchestrated movements, timed meals, lashes with the electrified whip. I couldn’t do it any more. I couldn’t stand one more day in here.

The muscles in my arms ached. The weight of the torch was more than my weakened body could hold. But the cut was almost complete. If I didn’t keep working, someone would find me in this access compartment soon enough. I’d be accused of sabotage. Or espionage. Or some other trumped up charge they liked to use to keep us in here. For the good of humanity. Always for the good of humanity.

Fuck humanity.

We lived like caged animals in the Quad. Our crimes were small, but our punishments were harsh. We were at the bottom of a very long food chain - first the Residents, then the Guard, then the Workers, and finally the Quad Dwellers. The lowest of the low. The worst of the worst. Only kept alive because of the rules.

Heavy steps echoed in the hall just beyond the compartment door. Someone had ratted me out. Probably Gray Man. He’d appeared sad when he handed me his precious torch. Guess the blanket wasn’t enough of a trade.

My hands trembled. The plasma arc sputtered and dipped. I cut erratically through the metal plating, anticipating my capture at any moment.

Almost there!

A half–inch of cutting remained. The door behind me rattled.

«Quad Dweller Ketchum, your punishment will be increased if you don’t come out of that compartment.» The guard’s voice echoed ominously behind the door.

My stomach lurched. Sweat dripped in my eyes. The torch sliced through the wall one final time, and the ragged piece of cut metal clattered into the corridor. I sucked in the fresh air. The sharp lights blinded me even through the face shield. I scrambled for freedom. My knees scraped the sharp edge of the hole I’d created. Blood oozed.

I lurched forward. A child screamed. A small group of Residents dressed in their pristine, white garb surrounded me. For a moment, they stared. I knew they were in disbelief. Once someone had been sentenced to the Quad, they were never seen again. They were forgotten by the rest.

The door to the compartment clanged open. The guard was mere steps behind me. I bolted through the crowd and headed for a familiar place. A place where I’d always been welcomed with open arms before my sentence to the Quad.

Residents on all sides pressed themselves against the corridor walls to avoid contamination. My clothes were filthy. My nails ragged and dirty. Blood dribbled from the cuts in my knees.

Fear bloomed in the faces I passed.

I ran further. My legs stretched out, my heart pumped, clean air filled my lungs. I’d never felt so alive. Never felt so free. My feet were as light as comet dust. Everything cleared from my mind. The only thing I knew was the rhythm of my steps and the soaring of my soul.