Center of Attention

The Beginning Always Starts the Same

       "It must've been the year 4065, much far back to when we as people had begun to learn all the ethics of humanity. A man, bitter and afraid to be alive, had sauntered the streets much like we always had done on cold winter days. His yellow eyes were set on one foreboding thing: the end of humanity itself." Ogillitiy's voice had sounded hoarse, like he hadn't talked yet today. That was mostly true. Ogillitiy never truly spoke out to anyone unless it was to me, but he's known me since the day he was born. His brown eyes sparkled as the words came to him, hands moving with every chilling line. As an Enforcer, I was interested in the idea of someone taking the ability of written word so ancient and making it fine like silk. My son was able to do that with ease, and I couldn't stop myself from cheering him on to do even better.
       When the fire in his eyes had died down, he looked at me expectantly. His face was soft-toned like his mother's, and I felt guilt rising inside of me. "It was well-written as always, Ogillitiy," I managed to tell him. I only half-listened, and I was afraid he was going to catch me in the act. "What's it about?"
       "Mostly what you'd think. It's a basic plot line that instills the sense of unknowing in you, like you don't know if humanity will end just because this man wants it," he explained. "He plays God, but he's not, you know?"
       We were not allowed to talk of religion. Not anymore. Even the name God was making my body shiver, but I didn't tell him to stop. Ogillitiy was a fourteen year-old boy with ideas broad enough to be arrested for. He had his mind high in the clouds most of the time, and I encouraged his work only because I knew that it was hard to get him to stop. I sipped my morning coffee. The ancient brew would never get old, I thought. Staring into my son's eyes every morning before he'd be sent to the Center would always be a routine. Nothing had ever changed in the past fourteen years. It was hard to believe it would ever change.
       I stood up, motioned for Ogillitiy to pack his things, and navigated myself back to the kitchen. The black counter tops were made of fine steel, and they showed no stains. As I poured the remainder of my coffee down the drain, I stared out into the city skyscrapers ahead. All of them were worse for ware. Windows were narrow, too close for my opinion, and the virtual flowers had seemed wilted on the balconies. It was a great contrast to our apartment building. We had a courtyard covered by a large, wooden canopy. Wood was as expensive as it was real, and it intimidated most to see it in its purest form. Ogillitiy had always loved to write on it for his short stories, but I couldn't find the appeal. "Why not type it on your Vigva?" I'd ask him as I would mess with my own Vigva that was embedded into my arm. "Not only is it easier since it's attached to you, but you can take it anywhere. Paper is such an inconvenience, and it's expensive." He would give me that stare, the one that looked most akin to Mavara. "There's no thrill. Writing on paper is like playing a game with your hand. Typing on your Vigva just sounds like work." It was work. To and Enforcer.
       Ogillitiy left the house without me. Since he turned ten, he's stopped waiting for me anymore, and I couldn't blame him. Every morning I would pace around the rounded kitchen table. It was made of wood, too, and it was always warm from my cup of coffee. I would pace, and I would wait for just a minute to take in the morning air before heading down to work. Today, however, I did not take in the morning air. I felt something tighten in my chest, and I left my discarded cup on the table. Something was wrong at the station. I could feel it inside of me.
       I rushed down the stairs. I didn't even consider taking the elevator because I knew my feet were faster, and I ran out the door of the apartment building. I was used to saying something to the man at the counter, but my mind was muddled by my actions. I continued running down the sidewalks, feet nearly tripping over top of each other, and I stopped not too long after. A crowd had been forming around something ahead of me, the same something that I was having a gut feeling about. I closed my eyes and was glad I had my uniform on. I peeled through the crowd until I had seen what was ahead of me. It was a woman's body, lied discarded like it was trash. Her tongue had been cut out from inside, and her eyes were gouged only partially. The top have was gone. She had broken limbs- all four of them twisted in terrible ways. Even some of her bones were peeking out from the skin. Unlike the normal citizens who choked on their recent breakfasts, I was staring with more of a disgruntled look. The Enforcers were already informed, I guessed. They had to be.
       I pulled out my Vigva, the thing my son hated so much. A few keys were pressed until a face had popped up. His white hair was spiked out in droves. "Hey, Firstien. I'm down in the lab if-"
       "Call the boss. We've got a murder almost the same as the last," I interrupted him, pointing my Vigva towards the body. He studied it like he always had done for just a second before clicking a few buttons on his own Vigva. Sobollum was slow at using his own, but he soon returned my heavy gaze with a cheerful one.
       "Boss has been informed," he smiled. "Are you coming in? I'm sure Kiskos can deal with the investigation. That's not usually your field."
       "No, it's not. Sobollum, save me a spot down in the lab. I need to analyze the last body."
       He gave me a thumbs up, and I ended our conversation with a few clicks on my arms. It didn't take long for other Enforcers to come to the scene, pushing everyone else away as they began placing the virtual line that they couldn't cross. I didn't watch them for too long before disappearing back to the streets where I walked to the station. I didn't have any worthy breaths left, just the raggedness from that run from before. I wanted to know how I knew something was wrong, but I left that issue solve itself. My mission was to get to work without another interruption.
       I walked into the building, passing the front desk with a few limp waves to everyone else who had greeted me. They all looked antsy. I couldn't blame them because I soon came across the reason why. Boss, as we called him, was standing rigidly at my empty desk. He was shorter than me by a few inches, so I wasn't intimidated. However, his nearly black eyes seemed to bore through my soul, and I ended up stopping right in front of him to make sure he was okay. And to make sure my heart wouldn't stop from his death glare.
       "Sir?" I asked, standing tall.
       "You discovered another body?" he stated loudly enough to get the whole office's attention. "Sobollum said that something was different."
       "The pupils. Instead of the full eye, it was only half. However they managed to do it, it was disgusting in many ways." Boss and I didn't see the same way when it came to a lot of things, but we could both agree that our jobs were our jobs. "I left it to the investigators, not me." I was allowed in action, not murder cases. Boss nodded to me with a dilemma written all over his face.
       "If we find any leads, I'll let you know. For now, go down to the lab to analyze data for me," he demanded. I had sighed like I had been told to do a daunting task, but I was going that way to begin with. My feet had clunked down the staircase into the lower lab. Every wall on the way down was covered in old newspapers from times long forgotten. Most of the words were faded from thousands of years of age, but there were a few virtual newspaper clippings, too. I paid it no mind as my boots fell to the chrome tiles.
       The lab was filled with equipment I could not name. Sobollum was able to recite everything from memory, but I had no idea what anything had meant at all or what he had done with all the equipment. My eyes set to a Brinsit computer that was in the wall, and its monitor was flashing red colors. It was most definitely a warning to someone that wasn't myself, but I couldn't say what it meant. It was written in a different language from the one everyone else knew, and I approached it with caution.
        Sobollum ran in front of me before I could get too close.
       He began pressing buttons of all sorts- he was swifter than he normally ever was. He had shut down the monitor before the flashing continued on, and he turned to me with a nervous face. He was hiding something, but I didn't want to pry into what it was. No, I kind of did. My old nose had smelled something fishy, and it wasn't very often I had the chance to smell anything at all. I crossed my arms, giving him that expectant look that he would normally give to me when I didn't understand what he had meant. He tried to stay calm, but his face had peeled away into a nervous fluster. He was red in the face, almost as red as that screen.
       "It was nothing!" he yelled at me. "I swear I'm not evil!"
       I nodded. "I hope not, you know. I give my life to you most days when I'm not shooting at people for committing crimes. Don't tell me, that's fine, but that doesn't excuse you from your duties. Go get me the DNA samples from the last crime scene." 
       He shakily nodded, running off into a back room blocked by virtual bars. I wanted to pry into it was so bad, but I knew my place. If Sobollum ever gave me the opportunity to clack away at his Brinsit computer, I would. For now, I was stuck analyzing DNA data with my Vigva arm enhancement.
       I was stuck not knowing what any of that meant.