Wings of Serpents

Chapter 1

...

The streets crawled with life between the towering building blocks of Sector 41. The familiar scents of smoked cuisines and tobacco invaded the Serpent's nose like an unwanted touch. The neon lights painted the sides of faces with blues and oranges.

But the Serpent was not there for the vendors shouting out prices for meats, for the bars that blared out electro-bass or even for the hooded dealers shifting the familiar dodgy wares tonight.

They were in search for someone, someone important to them.

Waves of bodies passed the Serpent in a hurry, gathering together in the middle of the Sector. The gush of wind flowing from the rush of bodies washed the cloak from over the Serpent's head. A man led the tigers in their cages. Eros is his name; who the Serpent knew too well. He spoke slowly, his words stringed along with authority, his tone demanding to be heard. "Salvation belongs to the belters!" A roar across the tree line of heads joined in after him.

"Salvation belongs to no one," the Serpent whispered to themselves.

Eros continued in a strong kafí accent, "-it belongs to the working class, the hungry, the ones in need. US! No one, not even The York's can deny us of our destiny." Eros caught the Serpent in the crowd of drained blurry faces; as Eros also knew the Serpent too well. He stepped down and approached the cloaked creature.

"What brings you to Sector 41?" Eros asked, taking a methodical stand next to them, watching as the crowd he built up slowly dissipate.

"I am looking for someone." The Serpent's gaze wondered off, they looked to be on another planet as if only their body was truly present.

"Perhaps I can be of service to you, ja?" Eros's meaty arm grabbed onto the Serpent's cloak only taking a handful of leather. The Serpent snapped its neck towards Eros, revealing the ghastly look on their face. Instantly, Eros's dark eyes widened and he restrained himself, releasing the Serpent.

"Greed is your god, Eros. I have no need of your services." The Serpent hissed.

"Says the Serpent." Eros grinned, humourlessly.

"Says the revolutionist. In fact, why are you speaking to me?"

"You'd be a great addition to our cause."

"I follow no one. You are wasting your time and most importantly, mine. The York's will never bow down to the belters, destruction happens from within, the only way us belters win is if The York's destroy themselves." Brushing Eros off, the Serpent continues. "You have no power here, Eros." They pull the cloak over their head and slither through the crowd, blending right back in. Their dark wide set eyes landed on the one they were in search of. The auburn haired mechanic, who had people to see and places to go.

...

"Somebody called for a mechanic?" The Mechanic knocked on the metal door made out of scrap materials restored from a transportation vehicle used decades ago. Everything in this Sector was salvaged, sold for parts and molded into something else; as each citizen was molded into their stations. Sectors 39 to 41 consist of Factory Station; the builders of tomorrow, some vendors, and where this particular mechanic finds most of her day jobs. It is a short travel for a fair wage that consist of endless hours but, she wouldn't want to be doing anything else. Its when dawn nears when she rather be keeping at fixing engines than rearranging people's pockets.

Ryn, a good friend of the mechanic and owner of this department opened the door to her. The Mechanic walked in, her misty green eyes landed on the disarray of parts laid out in front of her, beyond a bike that desperately needed repairs. "Oh Ryn, you know I love a challenge." The Mechanic blushed, skipping over to the bike, examining the exterior like it was a brand new shiny bike on a store window display. Fixing broken things is her favourite past time. "Where'd you find her?" She bit down on her bottom lip as she did occasionally when her excitement was unbearable to contain.