Chapter 3

Benni hurdled from his bed with a knife in each hand when the shrieking alarm tore through Level 8. The automatic response had him blurry-eyed and barefoot but ready to take on any menace to his family. Charging out of his room into the narrow street, he discovered that the threat wasn't human — it was worse. Even as the rest of the sleeping family piled out of their beds, he was the first to arrive at the gate, where the night guards were frantically unraveling the folded plastic.

The alarm cut out, and the panic ratcheted up. The corridor boiled with stampeding, fear crazed human animals. Their eyes were bulging as their nostrils flared, trying to suck in more air to run faster. One trip and a line of bodies fell to the floor, only to be overrun by the pack behind. The sound of running feet was thunderous.

Tucking his knives back in their sheaths, Benni leapt over the two guards, grabbed the end of the plastic they were holding up and starting climbing. The iron rods, bent and set directly into the wall, were narrow and always gave the climber scrapped knuckles, yet no one had taken the time or slugs to upgrade them. Another family member started up the opposite set of rails and the plastic seal rose. An application of bonding agent permanently attached to the plastmore wall and ceiling reacted to the plastic by forming an airtight seal.

They sealed the plastic sheet to the ceiling just as the first billow of acrid smoke roiled down the near corridor. Benni heard the screams of the poor souls caught unawares. Some cried out as they were trampled by the fleeing stampede; they were still alive, but soon to die. Those already enveloped in the flesh eating cloud were beyond the ability to cry out. As soon as they opened their mouths to scream, the poisonous fumes seared their lungs. The screams of the fleeing echoed off of the plastmore walls.

Benni released his grip, and fell to the floor in a controlled drop. He stepped back in among his family and held on to whoever was next to him. It didn't matter to whom one clung. They waited in silence for the vaporous death to dissipate. As the cloud continued to drift past, the sounds of life dissipated into the far distance. They were an island of breathable air surrounded by poison, but their air would rapidly grow stale.

The plastic was flimsy. Just one knife thrust from outside would have rendered it useless, and condemned them all to a quick death. Still, it was the best they had.

In the eerie silence came the sound of great bellows and large fans from some distant quarter, which drove the fumes to some other corner with an unusual wind. For over an hour they waited in the thickening air, until the atmospheric alarm sounded again that all was clear.

"Second time in a month," someone muttered aloud what everyone had been thinking to themselves.

"Enough bitching," the patriarch Nagala commanded. "Form up groups of six for harvesting. No fighting this time. If someone beats you to the dead meat, let it go, and find another. There is profit in the wind now. Go!"

They ran. Benni turned left and found Shasa at his elbow. He winked at her as they rushed to find the fallen corpses. He wanted to say something to her but nothing came to mind and, for the good of the harvest, silence was best for the immediate business. They did their best to ignore the chemically seared flesh that was burnt in some places down to the bone. The stench was nearly unbearable, even for the Temperdis, but there was money to be made.

Benni jumped to the task of slicing the pockets of the first corpse they came upon and harvesting anything of value, maybe showing off a little. The various liquids oozed and gurgled from the peeled flesh as if the meat was still alive in some parasitic fashion. He made the mistake of poking too deeply with his blade in the midsection; the reek of boiled intestines brought the bile up from his stomach for a brief encounter with his throat. After the first corpse, Benni left most the harvesting to another member of family while he stood guard.

After they had harvested thirty unattended bodies, the corridor began to fill again with people who had the same agenda that they did. The competition had arrived, and the family withdrew, leaving the rest to the latecomers. Fifteen minutes had past.

Back inside the enclave, the various harvesting units coalesced on their street. Their family numbered 51 souls with 10 rooms in their tiny enclave. Most lived dormitory style unless they had lucrative jobs like Benni and Dember. Fifteen worked the night time shift, but only one family member worked nights on this level. There had been no word of her fate. However, she should have made it back to the family by this time. Den mates went out to search for her while others sought out information about the chemical spill. Only if she was alive would they find anything. Otherwise, she would be just another anonymous piece of harvested meat.

They waited in the street for news. In the back of the enclave, hidden from the suspicious eyes in the corridor, they pooled all of the loot that they had been able to collect, separating the tabs, stimsticks and needles from the slugs, chits, and passes. Payment had to be sought from the writers of the chits, and passes could be sold back to the owners. This income would not be distributed amongst the family. This windfall would be used to upgrade the enclave, maybe put a stronger gate at the entrance, an alarm or a static chemical barrier. They would vote on it soon enough.

The corridor was filled again with people, as if the accident had been a mere inconvenience. As they milled around, Benni checked in on Dember who was sitting on the street next to his door with his head cradled in his two arms.

"What fuckin' machine ran me over?" he moaned when Benni slid down next to him.

"Bad stimstick, heart friend idiot," Benni said.

"I'm not an idiot; safe-be, I did a stupid thing..."