Saturday, June 18, 2011

Cog: Prologue

The following is the only part of Cog so far that I am remotely satisfied with. Its a short little intro, and I am fond of how is came out. Short, sharp, and with at least one character I intended to be faceless standing out and possibly being more of a factor than I had originally planned. The little intro line at the start is an attempt to seem archaic and interesting, but I'm afraid it may just make me seem like a pompous dick.




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Introduction: In which we are introduced to a man of great importance to coming events, and bid him farewell at the hands of other Dramatis personæ


In other circumstances the Comptroller would have been proud, perhaps boastful, of the speed with which he moved his otherwise ponderous bulk down the access ramp leading out of the pumping station. In the same circumstances any bystanders would have been outright amazed. Granted he was moving down a ramp so momentum was garnered from his considerable mass, but even so one could not deny that he was approaching the personification of the Irresistible Force. His body shook with each jarring step, flesh heaving from his running, the thudding of custom made boots against the rusted metal ramp that moved alongside the aqueduct, an escort for men to match the critical resource that ran within the glazed clay trench.

The men behind him had no pride or amazement, only frustration as they chased their quarry through the darkness that had settled around the pumping station now that the industrial area it serviced had passed into a sleep cycle. Power cut to service other sectors left he area cold, quiet, and silent but for thudding feet and the labored breathing from the hunting party and their prey. He whipped his head about, vision blurring as his view swung crazily about, eyes wide, frantic, seeking some sort of shelter. The change of perspective finally ended his personal record-setting flight As he failed to notice A rusted bar at his feet that caught to tip of his boot and sent him sprawling across the ever-present rusted plate that served as a walkway in all but the richest areas of the city. His skull hit the ground and sent his glasses skittering away, the sound of the glass lost in the rattling crash his body threw up like a warning alarm to his death, which now approached with cheers of success. The prey was down, now came the kill.

Where are the drones? His mind screamed as he scrabbled away on all fours now, small droplets of blood welling from the metal shavings that poked his hand. The plant was down, but those creepy, soulless things should still be nearby, on standby mode. The should have picked up the anomalous sound, should have told CPU, should have...

The unmistakable stactto thunk-hiss of an automatic rifle filled the air, and he felt the pneumatically thrown dart rip past his ear... no, through it, as pain blossomed, blood arcing up and out after the projectile's passage like water from a child's mouth in the baths. He screamed, a half-mad sound, but tinged with success. CPU. The base of this aqueduct section was an outflow gate. The cameras! The cameras!

Comptroller Reflo (His full name, though eh always preferred just “Comptroller” to help convince himself he was somehow above the rest of the seething functionaries that shared that title) hated the drones, hated the cameras, had always fought to keep his spaces clear of oversight. Privacy was power, success, he always said. A man must have his solitude, he always said. The CPU was for lower people, the upper folk don't need it he always said.

Fucking cameras couldn't come up fast enough, he now said.

There would be cameras at the outflow area, to monitor that they were being opened and closed properly, since this was controlled by men and drones, not CPU directly, and that meant it would have its glass eye on it. CPU always watched places of interest. It had to know. Pushing off with his feet, he scrambled to the side of the aqueduct and grabbed the lip of the stained white retaining wall. His shoulder slammed into it with the speed he was moving, and stars again swam, the world blurring, only snapping back to focus when another dart tore into him. Shoulder blade splintering with a disgusting, meaty cracking sound, he cried out again, eyes watering.

Fight it, you have a head start. Fear, pain, all of it pushed his out of shape body to the limit, but he stumbled out into the open area around the gate, looking wildly around as the clattering of combat boots got closer. He spied a camera, never so happy to see the eye of the CPU, and stopped. Froze. Blood solid in his veins as he took in the ragged, boxy device, the polished eye, the... unlit light.







Unlit.

Unlit.

“Unlit,” he croaked out, throat suddenly dry and every muscle in his body alive,awake, and clamoring to tell him how much they hurt all at once, adrenaline flooding out. He'd never in his life even seen an unlit camera. Even when power went out to a sector, the CPU watched. The cameras glowed. He always knew where they'd be, where the computer's eye was, to be avoided and now...
Turning with a laborious exhalation of the last breath in h is burning lungs, Comptroller Reflo slumped back into the retaining wall, causing it to creak just slightly under the pressure. The hunters closed in around him, slowly moving forward with knives at the ready. Ammunition use would be a waste when they can simply render the man by blade.

1 comments:

Well written. A few issues with narrative tenses, but otherwise pretty solid.

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