Shattered Glass

Bayard Street was one of a number of grimy, commercial roads that made up the northwestern part of the city. It existed to serve the fashionable homes and businesses that inhabited the plazas further south.

The place had a certain neglected feel to it. Broken glass and litter was strewn all over like a flood. Most of the windows were broken or paneless.

There was an unpleasant smell in the air, as though several litres of vomit had been dissolved into the atmosphere. Actually, this wasn't far from the truth.

The smell clung to your clothes and hair, making you feel dirty and contaminated. Those unfortunate enough to live in the Street seldom bothered to wash, for they knew they would be filthy again the moment they stepped outside.

The buildings themselves were stained coal-black from fumes and pollution. It seemed as though a giant's barrel of oil had been split over the place, splashing the street randomly.

The air was still. There was nothing around to make any sound or movement- even rats and stray dogs avoided this place. Apart from the odd car that absolutely had to pass through the Street to reach its destination, the only source of either this early in the morning was one Jim McRae. The movement was due to his morning walk down to his business, Bayard Street Window Cleaning Ltd. The sound was due to a cheerful tune he was whistling- he had proposed to his partner last night, who had accepted.

Contemplating the moment he’d be able to start bragging about his engagement to the other cleaner at the firm, Jim twisted his key in the lock and pushed open the door, only to find that any showing off or other interaction with Dave would have to wait.

Two menacing figures clad in black were standing in front of Jim, their faces obscured by rather typical burglar masks, balaclavas with eye- and mouth-holes cut out. Jim didn’t particularly care about any of this, nor, for the moment, how they had got into a locked building with no obvious sign of a break-in. His full attention was somehow attached to two glinting daggers, one being held by each of the criminals.

“On the floor! Face down!” barked one of the black-clothed men. When Jim didn’t move, he added, “NOW!”

Jim didn’t hesitate this time. Shaking as though he had received an electric shock he knelt, then lay down on the tile floor. Then something heavy collided with the back of his head, and the little light he could still see went out.

****

Pulling off the thick, sweaty balaclava, John Doe paused for a moment, relishing the feel of semi-fresh air on his face. Then he turned to his partner.

Leo was still holding the lead pipe they had found and was staring down at the unconscious figure as though he couldn’t quite believe what had happened. John allowed him five seconds of getting over the shock, then cleared his throat.

”You need to get a move on. The guy’s shift starts in half an hour, and it’s at least a twenty-minute walk down to the Tower.”

Leo faced him for a moment while the words sank in, then began to strip off his black overcoat. Then he set to work swapping his clothes for the window cleaner's. In order to give him some privacy, John took a walk around the firm, going over the escape plan in his head.

When he got back, the cleaner was wearing Leo’s rags; Leo, the window cleaners uniform.

”What’s the story again?” John thought it was best to check, to make sure it didn’t sound to far-fetched. He wasn’t quite sure hw it could, but, on a risky task like this, you couldn’t be to careful.

“I’m a new recruit for Bayard Street, on my first job.” Leo replied quietly.

“Okay.” Pause. “Why did you dress him up?” John asked, nodding at the cleaner.

“Give him a bit of modesty when he wakes up. Easy way to get rid of the clothes, too. If they’d found Easterner stuff like that here, someone’s gonna get suspicious. No-one’s gonna find him for a while, and when they do, the clothes aren’t exactly gonna be the first thing they ask about, are they?”

“Why did you bother to knock him out in the first place? We’ve got knives, we wouldn’t have wasted ammunition if…” John trailed off at the disgusted look on Leo’s face.

“Only one person I know of deserves to be killed. The cleaner’s got nothing to do with anything- if I’d taken him out, it would’ve made me exactly like Cadaver.”

“I’m just saying-“

“Exactly like Cadaver,” Leo repeated.

John thought it was best to change the subject. “Are you sure you want to do this? The bastard took something from me too.”

Leo shook his head. “I’m sorry about your son, but you’ve got the rest of your family. You’ve got something to live for. I lost everything- it doesn’t matter if I’m caught.”

“Don’t say that. They won’t catch you- they can’t. And you might feel like that now, but there’ll be other women. You just need to get back on your feet, start a new life, y’know?”

Leo smiled at him, almost pityingly. “She was the only one I could ever love. Besides, there’d be catfights in the afterlife.”

Despite everything, John laughed. Then frowned. “You still believe in that stuff? After everything that’s happened?”

“Of course. Faith isn’t just for the good times- otherwise, what’s the point?”

John shrugged. He had a point.

Leo glanced at his watch. “I’d better get going- I’m gonna have to jog down there as it is.”

He could have been talking about a meeting he was late for.

John paused. “Go on then. If you get out of there alive, you know the meeting place.”

Leo nodded slowly, not trusting himself to speak.

“Well… good luck then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Y-yeah.” Leo managed, before snatching up the pistol beside him, flinging it into his bucket of cleaning materials and dashing out the building.

‘See you tomorrow’… the words were too graphic a reminder that tomorrows were a thing he had run out of.

******

If you were to wander towards the Western end of the city, you would soon find yourself under the impression that a gigantic glass nail had been hammered through the ground from below, perhaps from hell itself. This nail is actually a building. It is AFIAM Tower, the headquarters and main administrative building of the largest, most influential cooperation in the country.

Look closer at the tower. Behind the glass panes are people scurrying around, collecting papers and typing on some of the nation’s few licensed computers- all of which, predictably, are made and distributed by AFIAM.

You would see a few chemical labs, mainly for engineering new pharmaceuticals, but the Tower is primarily used for admin work. The industrial work takes place far away from the eyes of the densely populated West. Factories and foundry parks are built in the rural North and some of the poorer areas of the East. Out of sight, out of mind- at least where the Western majority is concerned.

Leo Grey, ex-employee of AFIAM’s Foundry Area Four, advanced slowly on the huge structure. Before coming to the capital to put his revenge plan into motion, he had never left the world of market towns, farmland and the occasional small city that was the East. He still hadn’t got used to skyscrapers and huge metropolises, and probably never would. Particularly as he wouldn’t be spending more than another hour in this world.

“Who the hell’re you?!” The loud voice made Leo jump. Lost in thought, he hadn’t realised he was so close to the tower. He wouldn’t let that happen again.

Taking a breath, he replied: “I was employed by Bayard Street Window Cleaning Service two days ago. This is my first job.”

The guard, who oddly resembled a gorilla, took a big sniff. Perhaps he thought he could smell lies. “Name?”

Leo decided to use his own. There was a slight risk, but he didn’t think they registered every one of their employees. That would have taken too long.

“My name is Leo Grey.”

“Grey?” The guard’s eyes narrowed. “’Aint that a Northern name?”

“Eastern, actually,” Leo said automatically, without thinking

The guard drew himself up to his full height, and puffed out his chest. “Easterner, eh?”

Leo could have kicked himself for his mistake. “O-only only on my fathers side,” Leo improvised, careful to say father rather than papa or pap. When the guard didn’t say anything, he continued- “My father moved here, to the capital from somewhere in the East, and met my mother. I was born here but obviously I had to take my father’s Eastern name.” He was going to say more, about how he was really a Westman through and through, and had never even been to the East, but cut himself short. He didn’t want to ramble.

The guard eyed him suspiciously, but stepped aside. “Your boss did 79-east to 84-east yesterday, so you’ll have to start at 85-east. Your targets to do at least three floors in the space of a day, but any extra levels will add to your salary. Got that?”

Leo nodded. 85-east was a practically perfect starting point.

“Get on with it then.” Snarled the guard. Leo hurried towards the window cleaning box hung temporarily from the building during the month or so it took to clean a side of windows. Once inside, he set down the bucket, smiling. The pistol was deliberately covered by a small pile of cloths, but the guard hadn’t even glanced into the bucket. So much for security.

Leo pushed a button on the panel next to his head, and felt the box begin to rise. He turned around, to face away from the building, and looked down over the edge. Big mistake- the box had climbed the side of the Tower more quickly than he’d thought. Suddenly feel dizzy and nauseous, Leo gulped back down the bile that had crept into his mouth. What a time to find out that he had- what was the fancy Westman word for it? “Acrophobia.” Or in simpler terms, a bad head for heights.

This was bad. He was going to mess up the job if his head kept spinning like this. So he took a breath, closed his eyes, and focused on something else. On the past…

*******

It had started when Leo was packing away his tools after a normal day of work at Foundry Area Four. He had spent all his time (apart from a ten minute lunch break) since seven in the morning making door hinges, contributing to the crates of the things that were piled up a little ways from his workbench. Now all he wanted was a badly needed shower, a hot meal and to see his wife again.

He ginned. The merest thought of Kerensa was enough to make him beyond happy. Her beautiful eyes, the smile that spread across her face whenever she saw him, the strong, possessive hug that he felt after falling exhausted into her arms. His wide grin grew even wider at the thought of what was growing inside her- the precious child they had made together.

Leo hated having to work away from her in this too-hot, sweaty atmosphere doing tedious metalwork. But it was only a temporary placement. Once they had got through the notoriously difficult infant/baby stage, he would return to college to complete his law course. But for now, he needed money. And foundry work, though dull, was the only local job that paid him what he needed.

A harsh intercom voice interrupted the flow of his thoughts. “Today is Foundry Area Four’s last day in production. All staff should consider themselves redundant as of tomorrow. Thank you for your co-operation.”

*****

The injustice of AFIAM’s decision to destroy hundreds of jobs without any sort of compensation made Leo bristle with anger. But that wasn’t the reason he was now climbing the side of their Tower armed with a gun. No, firing Leo didn’t even begin to compare to Henry Cadaver’s biggest sin.

The box shuddered to a halt, yanking Leo back to the present, to the job in hand. After quickly remembering what he was meant to be doing, he reached for the mop nearest to him and began to polish the vast pane of glass in front of him.

Once this was finished, he would have two more to do. Then he could finally satisfy the gnawing hunger for revenge in his heart, and rid the world of a man it could most definitely do without. The cleaning motion required little concentration, and soon drew tedious. So his mind drifted back in time again…

*****

Even though Foundry Area Four has been shut down, there was still a lot of waste that needed to be deposed of. AFIAM workers were working there seeming endlessly, scooping up plies of waste products and dumping them in the river that was Leo and Kerensa’s hometown’s main water source. Thus, the tap water became entirely unusable, and bottled water had to be used for everything. Initially, this was nothing but a slight annoyance, as the general store stocked plenty of bottled water for the town’s needs. Until AFIAM decided to make even more budget cuts…

Sir Henry Cadaver (Order of Gemini, Honorary Duke, etc.) had decided that the manufacturing of bottled water at the rate AFIAM did was using up too much money, that “could be used in far more beneficial ways.” I.e. stuffed into Cadaver’s already bulging wallet. And so the water was delivered only to central locations within the three Cardinal States. The nearest such place to the town where Leo lived was AfiMart, a vast supermarket just outside one of the East’s major large towns. This was a five-hour drive away, meaning it would take almost a whole day to purchase something they could once get at the turn of a tap.

The first time they had run out of water after Cadaver’s decision, Leo had driven down to AfiMart alone. Kerensa had called half an hour after he left-

“It’s me.”

“You alright, Keren?”

“No.” Kerensa’s voice was almost sulky, Leo could imagine her pouting. The thought made him chuckle.

“It’s not funny! I threw up again.” His wife protected.

“I see.” Kerensa had had maternity sickness for quite a while now. “You’ll be needing water, then?”

“Well done, genius,” the woman snapped. “And before you ask, no, there isn’t a millilitre of water left in the fridge.”

“I see.” Leo said again. “Do you want me to come and get you? I haven’t got very far yet.”

“What good’ll that do?”

“You can drink as soon as we buy the bottles, instead of waiting for me to get back.

“Oh, I see. I’d rather not go for a car ride feeling like this, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Fair enough. You’ll have to wait then, I’m afraid.”

“Ugh. Well, I guess there’s nothing else to be done. I’m gonna do lie down, drive as fast as you can, ‘kay?”

“I’ll have your water soon enough, your highness.”

“It’s not just the water I’m missing,” Kerensa said softly, before a click told Leo she had hung up.

Eleven hours later, Leo staggered though the front door, clutching five two-litre bottles.

“This should keep up going for a while- Kerensa?” he called. No answer- presumably she was sleeping.

He carried the water through to the kitchen, suddenly coming to a stop when something crunched under his sock. He lifted his foot- a broken piece of glass? How did that get there?

Leo realised there were other pieces scattered on the floor. His gaze followed the pattern they made- there were more of them, and the pieces were larger, towards a certain point. At that point, was half a drinking glass, clutched- he noticed with such shock he could have sworn his heart stopped beating- by the lifeless figure of his wife.

The heavy bottles clunked to the floor as he raced over to were Kerensa lay. He cradled the body, silky hair between his fingers, staring down at the perfect, pale face that was so dangerously peaceful. Even now, he couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful she was.

“Please me alive Kerensa- you can’t leave me…”

Her eyes opened slowly, and squinted, as though his lover’s vision was somehow blurry. “L-Leo?”

Leo sobbed with relief, but it was short-lived. “What happened?”

“I was so thirsty… I though maybe the river was clean now…”

The blood in his veins ran cold, but he refused to let Kerensa see his feeling of dread. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll call an ambulance now. You’ll be just fine.”

Kerensa smiled at him pityingly. “It’s too late, Leo. Past too late. I just clung for now on so I could say goodbye…”

Leo tried to speak, to deny her words, but his throat caught. Nothing came out but tears.

“Leo?”

“y-yes?

“I’m sorry. About… the baby…”

And with that, the lights left Kerensa’s eyes, and her body became limp in his arms.

That was why Henry Cadaver had to die.

******

He was there at last. Floor eighty-eight. Looking back, Leo realised that the initial anger he had felt had never really left him. It had always been there, dormant, forced into hibernation by the more useful thoughts and feelings he needing to use.

It was awake again now. Leo felt the incredible feeling of rage course through his body, empowering him with mercilessness and ruthlessness he would never have thought possible. Rage directed at one man- one man whose figure Leo’s could just make out through the gap in the blinds. He picked up the gun, and fired.

The blind tore. The window pane shattered into a million piece. Broken glass- how fitting.

Leo watched with a satisfied smile as his enemy stumbled from the force that had pierced his back. Then he collapsed, sprawling across his desk in a highly undignified final pose, as the curtain drew across his life.

Alarms were pealing in the air around. To Leo, they were a final sound, a sound that meant everything had been completed. He climbed up and stood on the edge of the window-cleaner’s box. He wanted nothing else in this world.

He took one, terminal breath, and launched himself out and down. Out from the window-cleaning box that had brought him to his goal, down towards the bustilg city streets eighty-eighty storeys below.