As he strolled down the sidewalk, Matthew let himself relax a little. There were far less cameras in the Omega Quarters because the Golden State wasn’t worried about an uprising taking place among the masses. The majority of the Omegas were too wrapped up in their own lives to even bother thinking about overthrowing the government. When it came to the caste system, the Golden State had it down to an art. The controlling Alphas implemented a tri-level class structure, which was the safest form to ensure their reign. In this system, the three classes each had a main goal: the highest wanted to keep their power; the middle wanted to take over and become the highest class, itself; and the lowest were kept sedated with alcohol, night clubs, and other simple pleasures to present them with false happiness so they would mind their own business. To keep their iron grip on the power, the upper caste heavily monitored the middle, which was most likely to rebel, and partially examined the lower, which didn’t pose much of a threat. It was fiendishly brilliant.
All the more reason to bring the government down, Matthew thought bitterly.
He glanced over the surrounding Omega slums. War-torn tenements framed the street on either side, casting long shadows across the fractured asphalt. He occasionally spotted a few Omegas peeking out of the windows. They looked terrified of him and immediately flung their curtains shut when he caught their eyes. He couldn’t blame them though. It was highly unusual for a Beta to be in the Omega Quarters at any hour. The Alpha controllers frowned upon it. Matthew wanted to shout to the Omegas that he was on their side; that he wanted to help them and make things better. Knowing this was impossible, he instead ran a frustrated hand through his sandy blonde hair and fixed his eyes on the cracked sidewalk.
5569 Bronze CT 72046
Matthew recited the address in his mind. He checked his watch again. 16:40. He had twenty minutes to find this place and recruit its owner. Scanning the street signs he passed, he searched for Bronze CT. He hoped it wasn’t too far away from the train station so he would have enough time to make it back without sprinting. He wasn’t out of shape or anything; he just didn’t want to get caught on any hidden cameras. Running to or from anywhere was as suspicious as it gets, since every Beta was expected to be punctual. It didn’t help that he was on a fake mission in the Omega Quarters and was trying to avoid drawing attention to himself.
Up ahead, he saw it: the street sign was layered with dirt and grime, but Matthew clearly read “Bronze CT” underneath. He quickened his pace just a bit, fixing his jade eyes on the filthy sign. He wanted to get to this place as quickly as he could without looking too anxious. His mind filled with random thoughts about how he was going to approach the proprietor, what he would say, how he would get out of there and make it back to the station by 19:00…
He almost didn’t see the Reaper.
Next to the side of a tenement, a terrifyingly familiar flash of black and dark red caught Matthew’s eye. He knew that uniform anywhere. He visibly slowed his pace, then realized how obvious that was and sped up just slightly, praying to whatever god would listen that the Reaper didn’t notice his mistake. It seemed the heavens were not on his side this time, because the Reaper began to approach him.
There was something off about his gait, Matthew noticed. It was almost as if the Reaper was wounded, but who would dare to attack one of them? That was mutiny of the highest degree. A guaranteed way to get yourself executed, or, as the common citizen would say, you would “disappear”. Matthew tried to calm his racing heart, hoping the rapid blood flow wouldn’t turn his cheeks pink. The Reapers were trained to notice such minute details. He forced himself to present a calm exterior as the black-and-red clad man scrutinized him.
“Excuse me sir. Would you be ever so kind as to tell me why a Beta is strolling through Omega streets during working hours?”
Matthew was taken aback at the politeness of the Reaper’s tone. He inwardly let out a breath of relief. This Reaper was quite obviously new to the ranks, so Matthew could handle him easily. Fresh Reapers were always a nervous bunch, not used to giving orders after so many years of receiving them. If Matthew challenged him – just a little push – he could get away without any trouble. He cleared his throat and met the Reaper’s gaze.
“My shift ended at 16:00, sir,” Matthew said. His words were respectful, but his voice held a hint of an edge. “I’m working on an extra assignment given to me by Alpha Linville. There was a printing error in the New Information Department, and he gave me the job of collecting the misprinted copies. I’m to be back at the train station by 19:00, so if you’ll kindly excuse me.”
Matthew waited. He could have just simply walked past the Reaper, but he knew the young ones were always jumping at the chance to prove themselves. This man would most likely want to report back to his superiors that he was in control of the situation the whole time. So, Matthew waited to let the Reaper give him permission to leave.