There wasn't a single cloud to blemish the almost neon pink of the evening sky. Artificial rays of peachy light sprang over the horizon—hinting at a setting sun.

In the foreground, a young family played in the courtyard of their new estate, shameless bolded text rolling over them with investment details.

I scoffed, taking a hit of my vape and shifting to tuck my feet closer to the crate I sat on. The rain was starting to blow under the awning, sprinkling my ankles. The phony pink sky in the advert reflected off every wet surface on the balcony.

Without warning, the door to my right flew open, Theo came bursting out, swearing in a mixture of Egyptian and Swiss. I gave him a startled smile.

"Sorry Astrid, I didn't know you were out here." He switched to English for my benefit, running a hand over the spiky stubble of his buzz-cut in frustration. An angry vein had risen to the surface and was pulsing away at his left temple.

"It's fine, what's up?"

He shook his head as though he didn't want to talk about it and came to join me on the crate. It sagged and creaked with his added weight and I tensed in anticipation of it collapsing.

"They sent me a final offer today." He ran a hand down his face and pulled a vape from the pocket of his grubby apron. "I'm the last business from this cluster to sell." Tendrils of smoke curled out his nostrils, joining the last of mine hanging dead in the air. "I've been left with no choice. The next development is already approved."

"They must all be after the killer sunset view." I nodded out to the advertisement still playing across the façade of the neighbouring high-rise.

He snorted then coughed out a small cloud of vapour. "Smart-ass. Shouldn't you be at the academy?"

I adjusted my uniform knowing it was to blame for the query. "Last session was modern history."

"And? Why is that suddenly a free pass?"

"It's not." I took a deep drag on my own vape and sighed. "It's just pointless, they won't teach us anything Pre-Colonisation."

"Should make for short lessons then."

I scoffed. "Only one hundred and seventy years of history, and they still find a way to fill the full hour every week." I rubbed my forehead. "It's all just sponsored bullshit anyway."

He barked a laugh at that. "You should sit through regardless kid. Gotta get yourself a proper education. Don't end up like me, supervising shitty machines all day."

He knew just as well as I did that if I flunked, I would still land on my feet, thanks to Dad.

"What does it matter anyway?" he continued in my silence. "Doubt anyone's going back to the old world any time soon."

"You really believe that?"

He shrugged. "Shares in the department of exploration and rehab are some of the shittiest investments going. Trust me, we'll be colonising other planets before we fix ours."

"I mean it's not like we could learn anything useful from the past right?" I asked with sarcasm.

"That's the spirit kid."

A half laugh sounded through my nose and we watched the advert play out for the third time. "What are they going to build over this dump then?"

"Something residential probably." He gave me a sideways glance. "You'll have to find somewhere new to cut class, unless you plan on moving in when they're done. God knows you're probably one of the only people that could afford it."

Before I could issue a smart reply, there was a deafening metallic clang from inside. Theo was on his feet in an instant. "What fresh hell—?" He ripped the door open and stomped back into the kitchens.

His swearing muffled as the door fell shut behind him, and I tried to focus on the rain. If this was the last time I would visit, I wanted to make it count. There was a clumsy low-tech appeal to the old buildings, and they were getting rarer by the day. This relic had stood since the Ark was first colonised, and it showed. No modifications or renovations since it had been hurriedly slapped together one hundred and seventy odd years ago. Except maybe the support scaffolding.

I rose from the crate and leaned over the rail, no longer caring about the wet dripping in. This ramshackle stack of shipping containers had been home to dozens of struggling small businesses, like Theo's. I wondered where they would all go now.

The stack had also been the perfect spot to cut class, only a couple of territories over from the academy and definitely the last place anyone would have thought to look for me. The company had been alright too. The first day Theo had caught me hanging around vaping we'd gotten into a theological debate much deeper than most strangers would enter into—and we hadn't looked back since. He had come to be like a brutally honest uncle of sorts. 

My Lens flashed, the strobing green light at the corner of my vision slicing through my thoughts. I blinked, letting a bunch of mixed reality overlays spring up and clutter my vision. Holographic newsfeeds crawled past my eye, along with notifications of three missed calls and message from Mum asking where I was. 

I blinked hard and swiped at my menu overlay, bringing up my holo-keys and tapping out  a bogus reply about loosing my earbuds and staying back for an extra study period. I pocketed my vape and gave the railing an affectionate tap before setting off down the grated stairs.

The walk to the Swiss city centre was short. Within minutes high-rises completely blocked out the skyline, and hurried pedestrians jostled and bumped against me in the downpour.

The streetlamps flickered on. Not that they were needed, the bright lights of advertising projections threw colourful halos out onto the sidewalk. It was one of the many constants of life on the Ark—the digital colour. Sometimes it even outshone the sun.

People streamed out of alleys, laden with bags from the markets, a woman pushed past me as she ran for a waiting hov-car on the road. I carried on, letting the human tide sweep me toward the bullet station.

The heavy beat of music carried out of a nearby club, and before I could pass by the graffitied entrance, a firm hand clamped down on my arm.

"Where are you going?" A bald guy put his face in mine. His breath was a mixture of mint, vodka and heavy accent. Behind him, three of his friends grinned stupidly, nudging each other.

I ripped my arm from his grip and pushed my way deeper into the moving crowd.

"You should come inside!" he called, but his voice remained at the club's entrance.

It was a relief to get to the bullet station. Stained, urine-scented steps had never looked so good. I navigated two pedestrian tunnels and found my platform. It was busy, at least one full trainload of passengers filled the dock. I made my way to the middle of the platform where the throng was at its thinnest and tried to find a spot that was close to, but not quite touching the grimy, grey tiled walls. A homeless man lay sprawled across the nearest bench looking convincingly dead, but after staring at him for a few moments, I saw him twitch.

A pair of Forcers entered via the same tunnel I had used. They had a conspicuous presence in their black rubber-syntho suits, and they seemed to know it. Waiting commuters cleared a path for them as they strode across the platform. No one dared get in their way. I tried not to look, mostly to prevent my face from getting me in trouble. Their blatant misuse of power seemed to be widely accepted. It really bothered me, and I knew my features wouldn't be able to hide it. I had heard so many stories of people copping a beating or getting arrested just for looking or breathing in a way that a Forcer decided to take offence to. Apparently liberal force was required for such a large population stuck in a relatively small space, but I begged to differ. Not that I would ever voice that opinion—especially to some thuggish megalomaniac in a syntho suit.

The Forcers scanned the crowds with their bio-match Lens', most likely hoping to find someone worth a small bounty that hadn't been picked up yet. I'm not sure which one of them registered the homeless man first, they both seemed to stalk toward him in unison. The poor guy didn't see them until it was too late. He tried to get up and run but the larger one restrained him with a single heavy hand on his thin shoulder. I couldn't help but stare, sickened, as the second Forcer removed his Electrolaser and shot the homeless man at point blank range. He collapsed in a convulsing heap, before being roughly carried away by the two.

The smell of singed fabric wafted as they passed by, and I tried to swallow down the disgust that was climbing my throat like bile, casting my eyes away from their twisted smiles. They had become a law unto themselves, and the department just allowed it. I couldn't imagine how much worse it would be if the department's buyout rumours were true.

In hopes of a distraction from the sad display of civilisation that was still exiting toward my left, I gazed up at the timetable and noticed one of the holographic beams was broken. A lonesome seven dangled out in the air. I blinked hard and checked the time—it was five past—surely it wouldn't be long until the next bullet, but I couldn't be bothered looking the schedule up online. 

There was a slight commotion to my left, and a clearing amongst the commuters formed. At first, I thought the Forcers must have come back, unsatisfied with the incapacitation of just one citizen this evening—but it wasn't them.

Two men were fighting. One looked middle-aged, while his opponent was younger—maybe only a little older than me. Their wrestling was taking them dangerously close to the rail line.

As I watched on another young man came rushing through the pedestrian tunnel, the dark frizz of his hair flopping in his eyes as he caught up with the other two. He wavered on the edge of the fight, his hands balled into fists, but didn't join in.

The brawl finished with the younger guy pinning the other. He chuckled and ran a hand through his messy black hair as though keeping his opponent restrained was no great feat. The man beneath him wriggled in an attempt to get free, but made no headway, while the latecomer on the sidelines relaxed. He strolled over to the other two and rifled through the pockets of the trapped victim.

I wouldn't have thought much could surprise me around here, but this poor guy getting mugged in plain sight, while an entire platform of people did nothing but watch their Lens'— It was somehow worse than the Forcers.

My heart thumped heavily in my chest and I could feel my fists clench automatically as I thought about intervening. Someone had to do something—but a very loud, and reasonable voice in my head kept my feet stuck where they were.

As I watched them roll the man over and begin searching his back pockets, something snapped inside me.

"Hey!" I pushed past an oblivious couple in my way and stormed up to the thieves before my brain could reconsider.

They ignored me, or couldn't hear me. Either way, they kept on with their mugging while I stood in front of them, unsure what to do next.

"Hey," I repeated, less forcefully. My brain had caught up to my outburst and was now panicking. What if they turned on me? My heartbeat moved from my chest to my ears.

No longer able to pretend I wasn't there, the one pinning the man cast a lazy glance in my direction. He had both hands on their victim, holding him still while his friend patted down the man's squirming legs—almost as though they expected him to have something concealed.

The lazy glance turned into an interested stare. His eyes were the brightest shade of blue I had ever seen, it was unnatural, too electric to be ocean and very at odds with the dark shade of his hair. "Can we help you?" He gave me a sarcastic half-smile that matched his tone.

It felt as though air wasn't quite reaching my chest anymore, I'd lost all bravado and words. This had been a bad idea—if you could even call it that. What was I going to do, ask them politely to stop?

Something in his expression changed to amusement when I didn't respond. "Probably best you go re-join the group sweetheart."

"And if I don't?" The voice I managed to find was far less fearsome than I'd hoped. I barely managed to keep it from wobbling.

He chuckled to himself. "Well by all means—if you want a better view."

I was stunned back into silence. I had no response to that, and it bothered me. A flush crept up my neck.

The victim seemed to sense a moment of distraction and used it to free one of his arms. In a series of movements almost too quick to comprehend, he punched the black-haired guy square in the jaw and rolled out from underneath him, ducking a hook from the latecomer. Once he was on his feet, he gaped at me, fumbling to retrieve a laser pistol from under his shirt. Before I could take a breath, he had it pointed directly at me. I barely had time to widen my eyes before something hit me hard in the side and I was tackled to the ground.

There was a sudden flash of white, as though lightning had struck nearby, and I gasped back a scream. With my nose pressed to the dirty tiles, I saw two more flashes light up the platform. Panicked commuters dashed in all directions, screaming and trying to find cover before any more laser shots could get off.

I didn't know where to focus. On the dark hair of the practical stranger that was shielding me, or the back of the man who had escaped as he jumped off the platform, hitting the bullet tracks and sprinting into the tunnel ahead.

After a couple more beats, there was a screeching of metal on metal and the deafening hiss of hydraulics as a bullet docked from the opposite direction to the escapee. A rough pair of hands seized my shoulders and pulled me to my feet while terrified commuters pushed past. Purple dots filled my vision from the laser flashes.

I was pushed aboard the bullet just as the doors were preparing to close. I blinked away the swimming splodges and met an angry electric blue stare.

"Thanks a lot," he growled, letting go of me and stepping back onto the platform as the doors slid shut.

I stared out in muted shock as the bullet took off, leaving him and his friend arguing at the station. We slid into the darkness of the tunnels.