Post by The Morgan Estate on Mar 9, 2021 5:01:45 GMT -5
Running up the long, winding staircase, I knew time wasn't on my side. The timer flashed in bright Red on my Geiger-Watch; The Sanctuaries number one AI Device. Thirty Nine, Thirty Eight. Time was slipping away and for the first time in my life, I didn't know what to do. Looking up at the staircase as it looped, Geiger-Watch estimated I would arrive late by Four Seconds. The responsibility, the sheer pressure was consuming me as I made my way to the top. Finally, the last steps beckoned and with TEN seconds left! I hurtled towards the door, my lycra bodysuit gliding through the air like an elegant gazzel. My Geiger-Goggles pinpointing the door with ease.
KNOCK KNOCK! I hit the door. "I'm here! Open up, please!" I shouted, begging at the door with panic coursing through my veins. My defined physique pulsing against the frame. "I'm here, I'm not late! Please, open up!"
The door opened and my heart rate rose to One Nineteen. In the doorway stood a very large, grotesque man, bald and lifeless. Food dripping down his face, Spaghetti Bolognaise if I had to guess; He shook his head.
"You're late.." He stated. "I'm not paying for that."
"Come on, it was Four Seconds. Literally.."
"I don't care. The website says the delivery is on the second, every time or your money back."
"Yes but.." I began, trying to save the situation. "It's only..."
"Sorry, I'm having this for free."
My face dropped like a sad elephant as he closed the door on me. I couldn't believe it, my first ever late delivery. FOUR Seconds, that was it. Four seconds was enough to lose me another gig.
The year is 2121. Obesity has become the norm in New Britain's Sanctuary. Ruled by King Anver, ninety five percent of the country are morbidly obese, unable to function and most of their existence is catered for by people like me.
My name is Reece and I'm a Runner. Although, I'm not a runner in the traditional sense. See, people got so big, so quickly - that a niche in the market developed for young, athletic individuals to cater for them. We do everything, whether it's grabbing groceries, bringing takeaways or driving them to work. When I say obesity is bad, I mean it's BAD. Most people can't move enough to use an Electric Car, they can't climb stairs and elevators are no longer efficient because they'd need to be twice as wide.
Now, don't get me wrong; I've got no complaints. As a nineteen year old, mixed race guy; I know opportunities didn't always used to be so easy to come by. I can't say anything bad about the position i'm in.
My profession is one of the highest paying in the country - above solicitors, doctors; in fact, it even runs close to the Prime Ministers salary! You won't find me feeling down in the dumps. However, the problem is; you can't satisfy these people. Take the guy I just delivered to for example. Four seconds late, and he refuses to pay.
It's the same in restaurants now, if the food doesn't arrive within Sixty Seconds, you are entitled to a full refund and believe me, most people take it. I used to hear stories from the past, where people would wait an hour for food and enjoy each others company and have a laugh. That was over one hundred years ago though, most people can't relate to that - so it doesn't help to feel nostalgic.
What I'm trying to say, is that the world is screwed up. We have campaigners in the news, warning about the future but they're silenced and you often never hear from them again. We have people shamed for being too thin, or not looking "Healthy" enough.
It has to be said, although it pays well; being a Runner is not glamorous. It's kind of like being a Street Thug but being paid like you're a Surgeon. People look at you funny, they stare at you. They shake their heads when they see you in the streets. But, the funny thing is; without Runners, the entire country would collapse.
People get taxi's everywhere, guess who drives them? Runners. People go to watch performances, guess who is handling security? Runners. We literally keep the world going, but we are treated like rubbish.
Well, this is a story about how I become a Runner... and how I got to where I am today. Stood in a damp, smelly hallway of a cruddy apartment block. Looking at my Geiger-Watch and seeing I lost my commission because I was FOUR SECONDS LATE!