2.1/Wolke

"What is this stuff you've left me?"

"It's porridge, eat it."

"Eew!" Klar could imagine it now. Faye stood in her pyjamas with the pan held up to her nose, sticking out her tongue in disgust as she smelt what had been left for her breakfast.

"It's good. It's healthy."

"It smells like dirt," Faye retorted dryly, "you have nothing to eat in your flat, you know that?"

"It's your own fault. If you don't want to eat my food, then don't go out and lose you head," Klar snapped and slammed down the phone. There was never any thanks whenever she took care of her friend after a night out, just complaints about the state of her refrigerator. It was bad enough when Faye had pestered her before she left in the morning, but ever since she'd started ringing while she was at work, she'd become more hassle than she was worth.

Sighing, Klar rubbed her face in the hope it would wake her up, give her some kind of invigoration, before she started to tackle the papery pile of reports that had steadily mounted on the edge of her desk and threatened to topple down on to the floor. It had been her aim for the day, to get it all finished, but the large woman that was waddling towards her desk would no doubt scupper those plans.

When Wolke spoke, there was no choice but to sit and listen. In Klar's mind, her boss greatly resembled a drop of mercury; round, silver, and toxic to the core. She curled her lip as she approached her desk, seeing the unfinished work littered across its top.

"Himmel," Wolke said curtly, already drumming her fingers on her clipboard impatiently, "we have a problem with transportation; it seems that several elevators have stopped working. Go down and see if you can't find an Engineer to help us sort it out." She took out the report and placed it atop the pile, where Klar immediately snatched it up, frowning "And please, Himmel, do try to have this assignment finished on time," with that, she turned and rolled away, ready to dole out tasks to her next unsuspecting victim.

Quickly, Klar scanned the report. It didn't look to be anything too complex, a few broken cables or a twisted chain seemed like the most likely problem, and she knew enough people down there to be able to get it done before the end of the day. She patted down her pockets, checking that her badge was with her, and then her hair to feel for that tiny metal flea, before grabbing her own clipboard and hurrying to the stairs, ignoring the snide glances her workmates were casting in her direction.

Klar had planned to go down to the lower level by way of the core elevator, it was always backed up so there was no chance of it failing, but the attendant of that great glass box barred her way with his arms, refusing to let her pass even when she showed him her badge.

"I'm sorry, miss, but we have to restrict usage at the moment, just because you work in the core doesn't mean that I can still just let you pass."

"But you don't understand," Klar pleaded, "I'm the one that's going to get them fixed."

"I do understand, but I've been specifically instructed not to let anyone go any lower than this," the attendant sighed and shook his head "I wish that I could let you go, but I just can't." She wasn't given the chance to argue back, someone else able to go up had passed in front of her and stepped inside. Klar watched the glass case slide upwards, its steel wheels and pulleys rolling up and down the chamber. She stamped her foot in fury before turning away to go and find some other way down.

Cars zipped past her - a few close to clipping her elbow - as she walked down the street. She could have just continued down the road to reach the lower levels, but such places were far too dangerous for pedestrians, regardless of whether they were on the sidewalk or not. There was a small concreted stairwell that had been built specifically for situations like this, for core workers to get down when the elevators were unavailable, but Klar would have rather risked her life on the streets than go down that way; it was frequently broken into by drunks and highs who seemed to find great delight in relieving themselves over the balcony. No-one in sanitation ever bothered to clean it and so the whole well stank of degraded ammonia. It was a sharp sting in Klar's nose, and one that did nothing but make her feel sick.

Klar covered her mouth as she ran down the stairs, her clipboard tucked underneath her arm as she skipped down, feet bouncing off every other step. No doubt Wolke had already known all this when she had assigned her favourite scrape-goat, Klar realised bitterly.

When she finally reached the bottom Klar threw herself into the door, it was barely hanging to its rusted hinges and the force or her weight sent both of them crashing through and onto the floor. She breathed a sigh of relief; there was that warm, earthy smell, tinged with burnt oil. Brushing some of the dust off her blouse, she reached down to pick up the door and prop it back up in front of the entrance to the stairwell.

There were fewer cars down on the Earth level, the huge steel pillars that held up and supported the one above it proved to be too much of an obstacle, and so much to Klar's sincere relief, the walk back to the core was a much more pleasant one.

____

It was quite a while ago that I first posted this so I'm not sure if anyone remembers it, but I have more, at last. I'd forgotten all about this until I found a little document called 'porridge'. There were two versions of this part, and 'porridge' was the one I liked the most.

I don't really like the way this ends, and am currently in the process of trying to figure that out.

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