Visa Riots #4

A Trailing Edge story, by tycho garen
on 25th August 2008. (commentary)

“Visa Riots” is a short story from the Trailing Edge project. This story happens several hundred years before the other stories in the project. This is part 4 of 6. Read part 1, part 2, and part 3. Enjoy!

There was a small suite of offices and “studio” apartments suite. Home to probably a few dozen people and employes. It wasn’t large, or in great shape, but it was serviceable. Which was more than could be said about the street. Other than the air, the rooms were basically unharmed by the riot going on just outside the windows. Odd, but not entirely surprising.

Perr moved away from Edwin though they both stayed close to the walls: never letting each other out of their view. But now, given the safety of the calm–even if it was transient, the muffled noises of the riot echoed in the hallway–they kept a distance from each other. Even if it wasn’t totally safe to inhale yet, they could finally exhale.

It took a moment or two for the sense of relief to set in, despite the riot and the trespassing and the utter confusion which still hadn’t settled. “Got to get out,” Edwin said, suddenly in shock–or greater shock as the case may be. He backed up against a wall to survey the room more constantly. The calm and security of this place summed an urgent craving for personal space. Where as a moment ago, they had clung to each-other for safety, now they instinctively separated for safety.

Perr needed to differentiate self–body–and the urge was almost blinding.

“Ok, what are… going to do?” Edwin asked, blinking forcefully.

“Ed–Eddie,” Perr cried. No one had called him Eddie in years.

“…you alright?” He said, concern for the laps into childhood names overpowered his distress–at least for the moment.

“What are we going to do?” She asked, her voice a wrasp.

Edwin tried to move but managed to trip over his shoes. “Ok, we need food and water.” He said, deciding to stay put for the moment

Perr nodded toward a cabinet next to a food prep unit. “Ok,” Edwin said.

“What happened?” She asked.

“I don’t… don’t know. We need get out of here, once able.”

“Right. We’re… 2 blocks from the ‘port?” Perr said.

Edwin nodded. “Not going to be able to get in the front door. And no ships today.” He fell into a nearby chair. “Stuck.”

“Can we make it upside, without the street?” She asked seeming to relax a bit.

“I think. Longer?” Edwin managed, pointing toward a hallway.

“We’ll take it. Better than nothing.” Perr said. “But first we need to eat.”

“Yes.”

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