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Catalogue No.swa218

    Rainbow Jack pulled the stinger from his chest pouch. His head
    was changing shape again and he felt terminal time must be upon
    him soon. "Can't take another time slot in green" Rainbow Jack
    mumbled to himself, as he flattened himself against the
    graffitied  Roughtown wall. "Gotta end the part-time
    tick-tockers." He finally spoke at person-volume level.

    "Today,"

    Today had suddenly become the important driving force and
    motivator, "and that'll end my head re-shaping." The throngs
    thronged and the digi-dirigibles glided overhead, but not really
    overhead, mere cyber vehicles they, for strong techno about mass
    meaningfuls. Rainbow Jack became aware of the Roughtown wall
    through his Armasace, his one-time social signal turned element
    armour. "Now," and he stalked, through a momentary break in his
    personal fog, making it safe to cross without fear of collision.
    The brown and criss-cross loomed into view and the familiar fog
    descended again.

    "Nyeach".

    A tear. But no; false alarm. "No, can't do the wet cheek thing."
    His stomach hit throat and his head ballooned again, threatening
    to expose the inner pink softness to the airborne Toughtown filth
    as one-time Jack the Joyman headed up the cracked gum-spotted
    ochre. He touched the cool slime, vertical, greasy in his palm,
    disgusting reminder of all that was Toughtown experience and the
    brown opened. Stained, purple-yellow under his runners and he was
    at the queue for lesser grey experience. Flat brown ahead,
    upright plasti-boxes with bright flat fronts, screaming techno
    light at the seated Lesser Greys at their terminals. Terminal?
    Benign incarceration threatened. Others. Ignore. More Toughtowner
    types. Some newbies, some long-termers, real Toughtowners. He
    jumped the queue. Red complaints threatened, but warm brown
    smothering irritations sufficed. Hand slipped into Armasace,
    stinger in hand, familiar, much rehearsed scenario beckoned.
    Stinger semi-pulled, cocked. Primed.

    Time.

    "Green?

    The strained Lesser-Grey looked at him indifferently, with an air
    of looking at filth. "Green?" It said again. "I'll sting your
    soft pink" Rainbow Jack griefed. "Green?" said the Lesser-Grey
    yet again. "There's a queue. You Green or not?" Rainbow Jack
    fingered the stinger, paused, but instead took the Green from the
    other inner pouch of his Armasace. The Lesser-Grey illuminated it
    under technolight and sleepily brief-checked the screen for
    conflicting input. Slamph. Old techno hit the Green. "Next."
    Rainbow wept internally and quickly turned on his heel as a voice
    said "Hear tell there's some Yellow coming soon." "What?" "Hear
    tell there's some Yellow coming in from the void soon." Repeated
    the voice. RAINBOW glared and fled the greybox, heading for known
    personal Yellow. "Yellow?" Suddenly he was back in personal
    Yellow, he wondered quite how he'd got there so quick. Stripping
    off his Armasace he slumped into his expressor couch, once a
    widely owned artifact amongst the throngs but now outlawed as an
    item of individual statement. He put the gloves on, slipped them
    up his arms, donned the helmet and sang. He sang the songs of
    beginning, the Solstart, origin of all, saviour of Greens,
    saviour of even the Lesser-Greys. But not of the Top Greys. The
    Top Greys would have to be eliminated. Some day. It was to be his
    planned big creative, his one act before re-start day. Sol would
    forgive him, it'd forgiven millions over the aeons, so he could
    allow himself this one base act. "Slay a Greymind." Hey, he liked
    that. It had a nice ring. "Slay a Greymind', "Slay a Greymind',
    "Slay a Greymind', "Slay a Greymind.' He spent a good half
    timeslot singing it over and over to himself, a mantra of loved
    intention.

    That night as visual puss descended on Toughtown a new graffiti
    appeared on the rough, Toughtown wall.

    "Slay a Greymind, free us all."

    That made him feel good. But he'd only partially spent his angst.
    He knew he'd never really slay a Greymind. He hadn't the base in
    him to do it.

    New colour splashed the wall.

    Red.

TOP

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