Handprints

Chapter 1: New Normal

It was an early late winter morning in the City. The sun was just beginning to rise above the skyline, just barely lighting the lower streets. Only the very slightest glimmer of sunshine breaking through the grime that covered Dee's bedroom window. It would have been almost peaceful if it weren't for the fact that Dee was currently struggling with getting a shirt on while also trying to put off putting their new arm on for as long as possible.

It was far from helpful most of the time when they tried to use the damn prosthetic. It was bulky, unwieldy, chafed against their skin and was heavy as fuck. Dee hated everything about it.

Finally, after struggling into a tank top, Dee turned to the basic cybernetic arm that was sat on their dresser. It was awful, just a sort of metal bone, connected to a basic hand on the end. The fingers didn't work and it was mostly just for show. The tubes and wires that carried electricity, commands, and the fluids that were supposed to keep the arm in working order snaked around the outside of the metal in some areas before burrowing back into the metal. It was a very far cry from the sleek realistic looking prosthetic that the Upper Class could afford.

Dee attached the arm to their elbow before pulling on a hoodie to cover up the awful appendage before heading out of their bedroom to the main room of their tiny apartment.

It was the only thing that Dee could afford with their shitty job and without qualifying for City assistance. The apartment was only three rooms, a bathroom, a kitchen/living room and a bedroom.

Dee started their morning toast on autopilot as they tried to think of what they needed to do for one of their rare days off from work.

By the time their toast was done cooking, Dee had come up with a plan for the day. First they needed to go to the Shelf to get their rations for the week, then they needed to try to make some headway on the mold that they had found yesterday under the sink in the bathroom.

With that decided, Dee slathered their toast with some peanut butter and ate it as they got themself together before they left.

They pulled gloves on over both their hand and the fake metal one before slipping on their sneakers. The sneakers weren't a particularly warm pair of shoes but they were easy to get on and didn't require to be laced up, something that was a little tricky with only one working hand.

Once Dee was dressed and had made sure they had their ID, they were ready to head out for the day.

The shelf was as busy as ever. Hundreds of the poor, most of them cybers like Dee, were lined up and waiting for that week's food. Just like everywhere else in the lower streets, it was dirty and smelly and crowded.

But Dee needed the food, they barely had anything left back at the apartment so they would stand in line as long as they needed to.

It took almost two hours for Dee to get to the front of the line. The line ended at a window with a holographic person sitting behind it, probably the most high tech thing in the entire Lower Streets was those holographs.

"Please take your pre-selected rations!" the holograph of a chipper woman instructed after they scanned their ID. Dee waited impatiently for a green and blue bag with the city's seal, some bird that had gone extinct decades ago, on the side of it in white.

Dee held the rations bag close to their chest, wishing that it was just a little less conspicuous. After all. it wouldn't be the first time that someone would steal someone else's rations on the way home. Thankfully though, it hadn't happened to Dee, yet at least but it seemed like only a matter of time till it did.

Dee finally got back to their apartment and was able to put away their rations. It wasn't much. Just the usual pseudo-bread, lab meat, and instant meals with flavor packets. It wasn't much but at least Dee wouldn't starve until the next week.

With the rations put away, Dee couldn't put off working on the mold under their sink. They were still getting used to having to do this sort of clean up, their home growing up had never had mold problems. It had been a nice little house in a nice neighborhood where you didn't have to worry about the food being stolen out of your hands on the way home.

Just as Dee was grabbing a sponge and a bucket to get to work with, they felt their prosthetic jerk against their skin, quickly heating up. Before Dee could react, their arm became searingly hot and started moving erratically. Dee let out an involuntary yell of pain as they desperately tried to get their hoodie off and remove their arm from its place against their skin.

By the time they finally managed to get the prosthetic off their skin was starting to blister in spots. Even after the arm was no longer connected to them it continued to jerk and move about as if with a mind of its own.

Dee groaned and let their head hang back, their curls tickling the back of their shoulders with the new position, of course this would happen. Of course the stupid arm would malfunction.

They really didn't have much choice other than to have to go get it fixed. On the plus side, there was a mechanic down the street that was nice and didn't charge the inflated fees that every other mechanic seemed so fond of.

Dee gave one last sigh of resignation before going to grab something that the still writhing arm would fit into, finally settling on an old duffel bag that had been pushed under their bed. That decided, they managed to wrangle the arm into the bag and zipped it closed.

Once again putting their hoodie and one of their gloves, the other one being shoved in their back pocket, Dee shouldered the duffel bag and headed out to the mechanic's.