Friday 254, year 2246.
Pitch black night.
The wail of sirens echoed down the cobbled lanes. Midnight-blue vehicles emblazoned with silver 'C's stopped across the road to spew out troops of Trackers in trellis suits.
You couldn't see anything because the huge lorries blocked the road, but a strange blue halo emanated from the end of the street. If you got close enough, you could make out that the source of the light was a tall, wide rectangle that appeared to be white-hot. It was as thick as a playing card.
In the surrounding area, dull facades in faded colours squeezed together as best they could in the narrow corridors of the Grande-Rue.
Two Trackers had emerged in a strange way from the rectangle - passing a leg, then two, then a body spitting out whole blood clots that flowed, sinister rivers, between the branches of the grey cobblestones.
You didn't recognise him at first glance. His face was so bloodstained that it melted into the darkness of the night. Bluish bruises were smeared across his arms and he appeared to have a few broken ribs.
A car door slammed.
A man in his fifties approached the figure lying on the cold ground and landed a heavy blow to his right flank. The scream echoed throughout the avenue.
The man barked orders at one of his subordinates, who complied immediately. The subordinate returned after a few minutes.
"His number is 2324598."
'Very good', answered the man. 'Isn't that right, Jacob?
YOU ARE READING
The Second Dimension
Ciencia FicciónIn a distant future where genetically modified (GM) human beings have been reduced to the status of prototypes, a ruthless dystopian society imposes total control over the lives and thoughts of its citizens. Deprived of their fundamental rights, GMs...
