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GOLDEN CITY

GOLDEN CITY
Written by Mcarthy Joseph

CHAPTER 1.
Kasell stepped onto the platform at Golden city train station, and with a sigh of relief, stretched the seventeen hour journey from his home city of Clareton out of his lithe limbs. Here at last he thought with a tired, but satisfied grin and walked through the barrier and into the busy street beyond. He hailed a cab and one of the many travelling up and down the road pulled in alongside him.
"Where ya goin?" asked the driver.
"Sorensen's Saints, 1 Sunrise street, Glade Avenue," he replied, and stepped in.
The driver engaged the engine and they joined the rest of the traffic on the main road. Kasell eased back in the seat and felt his body almost relax. He lit a cigarette and gazed out of the window through sleepless green eyes, a contented smile spanning his unshaven, olive complexion.
Tha only difference between here and back home in Clareton is tha volume of people and traffic he thought. But I know where I'd rather be- and it's not back home. Everythin in Clareton's too cosy. I've seen too much of tha same faces and they seen too much of me. This job offer from Sorensen's Saints is a perfect opportunity ta get out and make a clean break. More than that though, it gives me tha chance ta seek out tha anonymity I've always longed for. Here in Golden city I plan ta keep a real low profile. No friends, no casual acquaintances. Just me, tha job and as much anonymity as I can manage.
He looked at the letter Sorensen had sent him confirming his appointment as a telephone based suicide counsellor and thought back to how it nearly never happened.
Originally the charity had planned for him to visit their offices before his interview date so he could get a feel for the place. He packed his things in anticipation. A few hours later he was unpacking them again. The afternoon post informing him that the proposed visit had been cancelled. A week later another letter arrived telling him the interview had also been cancelled.
Kasell phoned Sorensen to find out what was going on, but the number was unobtainable. He accepted the set back with philosophical grace and put Sorensen's Saints and Golden city to the back of his mind.
However, a few weeks later a third letter arrived from Sorensen's Saints confirming his application for the position of suicide counsellor had been successful. The letter also said the charity needed him to start on the following Monday morning and had arranged his accommodation accordingly.
Now, after all the set backs, he was here at last, travelling on the final part of his journey to meet his employers and begin a new life in Golden city.



CHAPTER 2

Sunrise street and Glade Avenue in general, was not what Kasell had expected. In his mind's eye he had conceived long, tranquil avenues lined by grand, red brick mansions, a lush park on one side, an ornate museum on the other. In reality Glade Avenue was very different. Deserted streets, dominated by towering, semi derelict projects and burnt out cars lined the side of the road he imagined the park would be on. Whilst on the other side, where the museum should have been, a sprawling industrial estate belched out thick, black smoke. He looked about him through bemused eyes and wondered if he had come to the right place.
Maybe there's two Glade Avenues and the cabbie brought me to the wrong one he thought?
He consulted the map and found there was only one district called Glade Avenue in Golden city and he was standing in it.
Accepting this fact he began to search for number one Sunrise street.
After walking for some minutes he eventually arrived at his destination. He stood at the bottom of a set of broken steps and looked up at the offices of Sorensen's Saints. The building's tatty exterior resembled a sweat shop and the huge iron gate and window fittings, the entrance to a prison. Kasell smiled. Just like back home he thought and walked up to the heavily barred doors and rang the buzzer.
After a few minutes a voice crackled over the intercom.
"Whaddya want?"
"My name's Kasell," he explained. "I'm here ta see a Mister Sorensen. Ya sent me a letter-"
"Wait there!" cut in the voice.
Shortly the door was flung open and a balding, rotund man in his late fifties stood before him. He was dressed extravagantly in
a white flared suit, vivid gold shirt and highly polished white shoes.
This guy sure likes jewellery thought Kasell, as he run his eye over the jewel encrusted rings circling the stubby fingers and the fat gold chains dripping from his wrists.
"I'm Sorensen," he said, scowling. "Show me tha letter?"
Kasell handed it to him. Sorensen read it and handed it back.
"So you're Kasell are ya," he said, eyeing him suspiciously.
"Yes that's right. Nice ta meet ya."
He put out his hand to greet Sorensen, but his new employer had already turned and disappeared into the depths of the grimy corridor. Kasell closed the door and followed. He found Sorensen in a filthy office eclipsed by coffee cups, take away food wrappers, nicotine stained walls and ashtrays bulging with butts.
"You gonna sit ya arse down or are ya gonna stand there all day fiddlin with ya balls?" asked Sorensen.
Kasell was annoyed by his tone, but gave him the benefit of the doubt and sat down. Maybe he's havin a bad day or somethin?
He handed his new employer a folder containing his academic and personal profiles. Sorensen looked bemused.
"What tha fuck ya givin me this for?"
"It's my academic certificates and cv," explained Kasell. "In tha letter ya said ya wanted ta see em."
"Well now I'm sayin I don't wanna see em ok."
"What about my photo? Do ya still want that?"
"Of course I do. That's fa ya ID card. Now hand it over."
Kasell handed the photograph to Sorensen and he put it on the desk without looking at it. He lit a cigar and leaned back in a well padded black, leather chair.
"Now tell me son. Ya ever stopped a suicide before ya came here today?"
"No not professionally?"
"What do ya mean not professionally?"
"I mean I talked a neighbour down from a ledge a few years back."
"And how did ya do that exactly?"
"Well I don't know really. I suppose I just convinced him it'd be better if he came down."
"Do ya think you could do it again?"
"Yea sure I could."
Sorensen thrust a file at him.
"Good. This is ya first case."
"My first case!"
"Why ya so surprised?"
"Well cause I thought I'd be working from an office counsellin people over tha phone.
"Yea well there's been a change. All of ya jobs will be outta tha office. Now do ya wanna work here or not?"
"Sure I do. But I thought I'd have ta take some kind of trainin course like it said in your letter."
"Yea well things ave changed. Anyway you're an experienced campaigner. Trainin will only slow ya down."
"I don't really think gettin my neighbour down of a ledge qualifies me ta-"
Sorensen put down the cigar and thrust his face at Kasell.
"You're qualified in my eyes and that's all that counts."
He reached up to the book shelf behind him, brought down a folder, took out a certificate, stamped it with a wax seal and tossed it across the table to Kasell.
"This certificate is ta show you've passed tha test to become a full time saint."
He put out his hand and Kasell embraced it. Sorensen grimaced and quickly pulled away.
"What are ya a fag or somethin? I didn't want you to caress my hand. I wanted ya ta place a hundred Note bill in it."
"Why do I need to do that?" asked Kasell.
"It's for administration costs and a mobile phone?"
"Administration costs and mobile phone?"
"Yea adminstration costs and mobile phone. Now hand it over. I haven't got all day."
"Don't you ever say please?" asked Kasell.
"No Kasell I don't ever say please. Sayin please never gets you anywhere in this world. Now come on hand over tha notes."
Kasell sighed and handed Sorensen a hundred Note bill. Sorensen put it up to the light. When he was satisfied it was genuine he stuffed it in his pocket and beckoned Kasell to follow him.
They drove through the litter-strewn streets until they stopped
outside a crumbling tenement block, half a mile from Sunrise Street.
"This is Spring Valley road," said Sorensen. "It's where you'll be stayin."
He handed Kasell a key and a mobile phone.
"You're in flat ten. Rent's twenty notes a week, deducted outta ya wages. Oh yea and don't bother ta try and call out on tha phone. It only accepts in-coming calls. Now if I was you I'd get some rest. Tomorrow's gonna be a big day for ya."
So much for anonymity in this place thought Kasell as he stepped out of the car and walked up the broken, stone steps and into the lobby. He was not surprised to find the lift out of order and trudged ten floors before he came to apartment 100. He opened the door and a cramped, sparsely furnished room came into view.
He closed the door and put his bags on the bed, lit a cigarette and flung open the doors leading out onto a small concrete balcony. The view was of a derelict brick yard and a disused railway siding. As a an accompaniment, a dreary fog hung over the neighbourhood and here and there drizzle fell from the low, grey sky.
Home sweet home he thought and returned to the room to unpack. He stopped unpacking as the sweetest piano concerto began to be played from somewhere in the block. He went out onto the balcony to locate the source of the sound and at the same moment a phone began to ring out in the corridor. The music stopped. A door opened and he heard someone answer the phone. A few seconds later a knock came at his door. Kasell opened it and saw a middle aged black woman with huge, light brown eyes standing in his view.
"Are you Kasell?" she asked, with a pearly smile.
"Yea I'm Kasell."
"There's a phone call for ya."
"Oh right. Er thanks."
"No problem."
She turned and disappeared down the stairs. He heard the playing start up again and smiled toothily. Well that answers tha question about the mysterious pianist.
He picked up the phone.
"Hallo."
"Kasell this is Sorensen. Why tha hell have ya got ya phone switched off!
"I didn't realise I had."
"Well start ta realise if ya wanna keep ya job. In tha meantime
get over to Highpoint tower and report to Police sergeant Larry Helen. He's got a job for ya."
"What's tha address?"
"Highpoint tower, Highpoint street, Highpoint. It's on tha map. Oh and by tha way forget that other job I gave ya. Tha waster's already terminated."
"Alright I'm on my way."
Kasell went back to the flat, switched on the phone, gathered up his ID and map and left for Highpoint tower. On the way he passed a man sprawled over a cop car's bonnet. His head had been blown clean off. One of the cop's was laughing and blowing smoke off the barrel of his gun. Kasell wondered if the cop he was going to meet had laughed after he had killed a man. Probably he thought and entered the subway station.
He alighted in a busy part of Highpoint's downtown and found Highpoint tower without any problem. It stood out from the rest of the buildings because of it's great height and brilliant gold radiance.
What a great place ta end ya life thought Kasell. Talk about spectacular location.
He made his way through the on-lookers gazing up at the top of the tower; he looked too and saw a man standing on the ledge half way up the building, gesticulating wildly.
A shudder ran trough him. Wow this is tha real deal Kasell. Forget hidin behind a phone line havin a cosy chat. I've actually got to go up there with that guy and try and convince him ta come down. Question is, can I do it? Only one way ta find out I suppose.
He stepped up to the police cordon, pulled out his ID and showed it to the cop nearest him.
"I'm lookin fa Sergeant Helen," he said.
The cop called over to a red faced, muscular cop, sitting on the bonnet of a car drinking from a polystyrene cup.
"Helen get ya arse over here. There's a guy ta see ya."
Helen shot a vexed glance at him.
"What tha fuck is it man!" he growled. "Can't ya see I'm drinkin my coffee!"
"Yea I can see that," said the other cop. "But why drink it here when ya can drink it at home?"
"At home. Whadya mean at home?"
"I mean this is tha negotiator guy who ya waitin ta escort up ta tha ledge."
Helen jumped off the bonnet and swaggered over to the two men. "About fuckin time!" he shouted at Kasell. "Do ya know I'm supposed ta finish at four. But cause of you I'm still here at five thirty."
He reeked of beer and cheap after shave. A medallion glinted from within a broad hairy chest, exposed to the world by a wide collared white shirt unbuttoned to the navel. His hair was collar length with a precise centre parting. In the same precise fashion, the lower half of his body was enclosed by tight, creased trousers and his feet squeezed into highly polished, red cowboy boots.
"Yea well tha sooner ya take me up to tha guy, tha sooner you can go home," said Kasell.
Helen sniffed his disapproval and motioned for Kasell to follow him.
"Better you than me talkin dis freak down," said Helen, as they
entered the lift. "If I had my way I'd just blow tha fuckers right off tha ledge and be done with it. I'm sick of payin fa these freeloaders outta my taxes. Can you imagine how much it costs ta get them down? Not to mention tha after care and all tha rest of it. Well I'll tell ya, it's a damn sight more than a bullet in tha head."
As they ascended Helen told Kasell about how tough it was being a cop in Golden city. Told him how much he hated his wife and his lazy son, who he was convinced was a fag. Told him how he hated his superiors and told him how he hated the way the donut stool always sold out before he came off of his night shift.
"Mind you I get a lot of pussy," he declared. "Tha uniform knocks em dead."
Helen went on to give a graphic account of his latest sexual conquest.
"She's got a face like a drain," he said. "But who gives a fuck about that if they're willin ta free up tha pussy hah?"
Helen continued to mix details of his sexual athleticism with his seemingly endless stream of hate as they went. Kasell listened and made all the right noises in reply, whilst in his mind he had already picked Helen out a special place in the part of his brain he reserved exclusively for arseholes.
"This is as far as I go. It's tha second door on tha left," said Helen suddenly, and headed back to the lift.
"Hold on you haven't told me tha guy's name," Kasell called after him.
"Sid Bell," shouted Helen, and disappeared inside the lift.
"Thanks fa tha help," said Kasell, and walked into the office.
He could hear Bell out on the ledge screaming down at the crowd. He listened to what he was saying and what he heard made him smile.
"Look at ya low life scum standin down there lookin up at me! Ya make me ya spectacle fa tha night but I refuse ta entertain. If ya come ta see me jump ya gonna be disappointed. "
Kasell peeped out onto the ledge and saw the guy sitting with his feet dangling over the side. He went back into the office and called out to him.
"Hallo Sid. My names Kasell. I'm here ta help if ya Want?"
"Well I don't want! So back off," returned Bell.
"Ok I'm just gonna sit myself in here."
"Why ya gonna sit in there when ya can come out here with me?" shouted back Bell.
"Is that what you want me ta do?"
Bell groaned and threw up his hands despairingly.
"It's not what I want! It's what you want fa christsakes!"
"Then I'll come out on tha ledge and sit down with ya."
Kasell stepped out onto the ledge and a huge gasp exploded from the crowd way below.
"They make a lot o funny noises don't they," observed Bell.
He showed Kasell a palm size dat recorder.
"I'm a musician ya know. I'm recording the crowd's reaction to me being up here on tha ledge. Not a bad crowd today. Mind you last week I had twice as many."
"Do you do this often?" asked Kasell.
"Maybe once or twice a month. It depends on how much material I've been able ta gather."
"And how did ya do today?"
"I did alright. But tha screams when I first walked onto tha edge are a little distorted. Say ya wouldn't mind havin a little tussle with me would ya?"
"Well I'm not sure that's a good idea. I mean what if we fall?"
"Oh don't worry about that I'll do all tha dramatic bits. You just stand there until I'm done. Then you get ta pull me in and be all heroic."
"Ok then let's do it."
"Right, when I say go you beckon me in. I'll start ta walk towards ya then I freak out and grab tha wall, slip down and hang over tha side of tha ledge. Give me a few seconds ta milk tha audience, then pull me in."
He went about his procedure and when he gave the signal he was done, Kasell pulled him off the ledge.
"Nice work," said Bell, as they stood back inside the office. " I owe ya one."
"Oh it was nothing," replied Kasell modestly.
"Nothing! Nonsense you're a star," insisted Bell. "People like you and me are born ta resist authority. As for myself I'd never sell out and join tha establishment. I know you're tha same."
"Maybe," said Kasell. "Right now though I gotta get ya down stairs."
The paramedics met Kasell at the bottom of the stairs and escorted Sid to a waiting ambulance.
I did it! thought Kasell as watched the doors close and the ambulance begin to move up the street. I actually managed to bring tha guy down. I don't care that it wasn't a genuine suicide attempt. Tha point is I did my job and brought tha guy down safely.
The sound of his portable phone ringing cut short Kasell's celebrations. It was Sorensen.
"Kasell, get yaself over to my office at ten tomorrow mornin. There's a few things I want ta go over with ya."
"No problem," said Kasell. "Would ya like ta know how I got-"
"Tell me what ya have ta tell me tomorrow. I'm too busy right now."
The line went dead and Kasell put the phone in his coat pocket, and began to walk back to the subway. The crowd had almost completely dispersed and the cops had already pulled down the tape they had used to cordon off the area. Every now and then a siren would whirl as the paramedics and fire service cut a path through the city traffic. Otherwise there was nothing to suggest an incident had occurred.
If I ever thought my efforts ta bring someone down off tha ledge would be met with adulation from tha on-lookers, cops and paramedics, I'd be very disappointed thought Kasell. Tha departin crowd look like a load of big fight punters who've just witnessed a dull, technical draw. Perhaps I should've let Sid dangle for a while so tha show could've been more spectacular. Not that it really matters what tha outcome is, everybody looks like they've forgotten tha incident already.
He lit a cigarette and thought about the woman in his block, who had played the piano so magically. I wonder where she learnt to play so well he thought? Maybe she taught herself. All tha classiest people always do, and from what I remember she defiantly falls inta that category.
He descended the stairs to the subway platform and boarded the train waiting there. As the doors closed he realised, like the crowd departing the scene, he too had forgotten about the incident.
CHAPTER 3
"Good morning Mr Sorensen," said Kasell, as he stepped into the office at ten the next morning.
"How can a mornin ever be considered good when I'm still sittin in this office?" growled Sorensen. "Now sit ya self down. I wanna go through a few things with ya."
Kasell sat down and ran his eye over Sorensen's swanky sky blue
suite, matching shirt and shoes. Nice line in threads for tha boss of a charity ta be runnin round in he thought. Maybe if I get ta be a manager here I'll get ta swan around in that kinnda garb too.
"Oh by tha way don't get any ideas of grandeur since ya got that guy down from tha ledge yesterday," warned Sorensen. "I want level headed people here. Nothin else is good enough. Is that clear?"
"Clear as crystal," replied Kasell.
"Good. I'm glad we both understand each other."
"So am I," said Kasell cooly, and lit a cigarette.
Sorensen glared at him.
"I'm not sure I like ya tone mista."
"What tone's that exactly?"
"Ya know very well what tone I'm talkin about. Now cut it out."
"What ever ya say mista Sorensen."
"Ya damn right it's what ever I say," exploded Sorensen. "Don't forget who pays tha wages round here."
There was a moment of uneasy silence, then Sorensen said,
"Do ya have any idea what happens when someone jumps in this city? Have ya got any idea how many problems it causes for our tourist industry,let alone every other fuckin industry?"
"I'd imagine it'd have a detrimental affect," said Kasell.
"That's right. It has a detrimental effect. And believe me son, there's nothin that makes me madder than detrimental effects.
Especially when it costs this city money."
He lit a cigar, unbuttoned his jacket and leaned back in the chair.
"I s'pose you've already noticed you're tha only suicide negotiator here at Sorensen Saints."
"I am?"
"Yea ya are."
"Where are all tha other staff then? Out on assignment or somethin?"
"No Kasell, there are no other staff."
"Really!"
"Yes really."
"Why's that?"
"Cause tha average citizen here in Golden city don't have tha balls ta do this job. Plus most people from outside are too scared ta come here cause they think they'll be murdered or rapped or somethin."
"Why? This place is no different ta anywhere else."
Sorensen clenched the cigar between his teeth and lent towards his new employee.
"Let me ask ya a question Kasell. If ya was ta come ta a city and all ya saw was citizens terminatin their lives, would ya want ta come here again? No of course ya wouldn't. You'd steer well clear of tha place and I couldn't blame ya. In tha same way I can't blame any tourist or business man who decides to visit some where else other than here."
He clasped the cigar with vexed fingers and puffed angrily.
"What tha city needs is a lift and we're gonna start tha ball rollin by keepin it suicide free. Mayor Faayka's pissed off with tha current state of affairs and when he's pissed off he sure as hell goes outta his way to extend tha bad vibes ta tha rest of us. Especially with tha election just round tha corner."
"Election?"
"Yea election. Didn't ya notice tha posters of tha mayor plastered around tha city?"
"No I was concentratin on tha job."
"Well there's an election takin place in two weeks taday. So now ya know."
He poured himself a glass of whisky and slugged it with a satisfied flinch.
"Ya done okay yesterday Kasell, but don't let it go to ya head. Ya next client could end up decoratin tha pavement with his brains and that'd be bad fa ya, me and Mayor Faayka. So keep ya wits about ya and do us all a favour ah."
"Yes Mister Sorensen," replied Kasell mechanically.
Sorensen pulled out a file and handed it to Kasell.
"This is a file on a guy called Harmonia. Now I want ya to take it home and study it carefully."
"Is he a new client,?"
"No he's not a new client. He's a bloody pain in tha arse!"
"What's he done that's so bad?"
"Told people in this city suicide is a cool thing ta be doin with ya life. Anyway I want ya ta pay him a visit, show him what's in tha file and tell him if he doesn't keep his mouth shut I'll expose his private habits."
"Private habits?"
"Yea private habits."
He pointed at the file.
"Inside is an in depth profile of Harmonia. Every little quirk of his personality. Everythin he wears, everywhere he goes, everythin he eats, everyone he meets. All contained within. So don't lose it, or spill coffee on it. It's cost a me a lotta time and money
ta accumulate this information. Do ya know how long it takes ta trawl through supermarket databases or old school records? Well take it from me, it takes a hell of a long time. Anyway I've done my bit. Now it's up ta ya ta do your bit and persuade Harmonia ta keep his mouth shut."
Sorensen poured himself another whisky.
"Well what are ya sittin around gawkin at me for? Let's get out there and shut him down!"
CHAPTER 4.
Back in his apartment Kasell studied the file Sorensen had given him. It gave explicit details of every aspect of Harmonia's life as Sorensen had described, from the brand of shaving foam he used, to his sexual preferences. The latter section bulging with evidence of an adventurous life style. According to the specific details of the report, Harmonia had a love of frilly bras and silk stockings. As a consequence his credit card bill read like a who's who of womens lingerie stores. The file also contained other more general details concerning Harmonia's wealth, which according to the report was accumulated as a direct result of his success as a painter. The report claimed he was worth several million Notes. Though it went on to add that at least half of it had been donated to various charitable causes. Kasell flicked the page and a photograph fell onto the floor. He picked it up and a noble black face, hooked, semetic nose and deep blue eyes, slightly etched with tension, looked back at him from under cropped silver hair.
So this is tha man behind the profile thought Kasell. From what I've read seems like he's a normal guy. S'pose most people won't see it that way cause he supposedly likes ta dress up in women's underwear occasionally. What does that really say about a person? Except they like ta.... well dress in women's clothin. As for his opinions on suicide, they're clearly just that-opinions. Harmonia isn't telling any body ta kill themselves like Sorensen suggests.
He looked at the picture again and smiled. Here's someone who appears ta have his own mind. A man who does things his own way without hurtin anybody. But all everybody wants ta do is shut him down.
He opened the bag of weed he had brought with him from Clareton and quickly built a spliff. He lit it and puffed out his cheeks. Why am I doin this job? I came here for a quiet life, not ta be a high profile goffer for some sleazy administration, whose only purpose is ta try and save the reputation of Highpoint as a business centre. This isn't about compassion or Humanity. It's about keepin tha money flowin. That's the bottom line.
He rubbed his brow and drew on the spliff until the end burnt fiercely. How could I have been so naive to imagine it could be any other way? Did I really believe I'd be doin a service ta mankind by stoppin people killin themselves? At tha end of the day I'm no different from gardener removin weeds from tha flower beds outside city hall or tha painter who covers up tha chipped paint with a fresh coat. Just like them I'm glossin over reality.
He stubbed out the spliff, put the photograph and report back into the file, closed the door behind him and went to meet Harmonia.
CHAPTER 5
The subway was closed because of flooding so Kasell walked the short distance to the train station and boarded the four o'clock service to Highpoint. As the train departed Glade Avenue station, he looked out at the neighbourhood slowly passing by. Here and there people came and went, otherwise the crisp, winter air made sure the area was almost deserted as dusk descended.
He opened the file to check the address. 14 Klier Place, Highpoint, was typed on the page. He put away the file and settled down in his seat.
Gradually the train picked up speed and the miles of industria and urban dereliction gave way to a desolate wasteland and in turn the wasteland was eventually replaced by lush parks, golf courses, and riding stables. Several minutes later rows of semi detached houses began to appear, until eventually suburbia dominated every horizon.
At first the houses were small and terraced, but as the train hurtled closer to the centre of Highpoint they became detached, with
dutifully tendered gardens and latticed porches. By the time the skyscrapers of downtown Highpoint loomed in the distance, huge mansions with gleaming limos, parked in lavishly landscaped driveways decorated the view.
Kasell dozed momentarily, but was jolted back to wakefulness as the train lurched forward suddenly and threw the carriage into darkness. The lights instantly came back on and Kasell realised they had entered a tunnel. Minutes later the train was back out in the open and suddenly everything, including most of the cloudy, early evening sky, was eclipsed by the towering structures of downtown Highpoint.
Just like enterin a big dark hole Kasell thought as he stepped off the train and onto the platform at Highpoint station. He consulted the map and found Klier place was only a few streets away. He left the station and turned into an crowded up-market shopping area, full of angular, sun tanned men and woman wearing huge fur coats and big hairdos.
I don't like it here much thought Kasell, as he passed by the brightly lit shop fronts. Too much money and not enough brains.
He found Klier Place cramped in a small space between the city's financial district and shopping area. Yet unlike the two surrounding neighbourhoods it was neither heavily populated, plush or brightly lit. Klier place was cold, dark, litter strewn and deserted.
At least it's not windy thought Kasell as he stepped up to Harmonia's door and rang the bell.
A light came on in the downstairs section of the flat and illuminated the patch of shadowy pavement Kasell waited on. A curtain was drawn back and Harmonia appeared at the window. The bright blue eyes scanned him for a moment, then disappeared behind the curtain again.
Shortly he heard footsteps approach the door. It swung open and Harmonia stood in the doorway. He was taller than Kasell expected and looked a lot older than the photograph depicted. His clothes were old and worn and here and there faded splashes of paint could be seen.
Not in bad shape for a man of sixty thought Kasell. Hope I look as healthy as he does when I get ta his age.
"Are ya Mr Harmonia?" he asked, extending his hand.
Harmonia's eyes sparkled suspiciously.
"Yes that's me. Who wants him?"
"My name's Kasell. I'm from Sorensen's Saints."
Any hint of suspicion immediately left Harmonia's eyes and a welcoming smile curved onto his lips.
"Ah yes come in," he said, shaking Kasell's hand. "I've been expecting you for sometime."
"Ya have?"
"Yes I have. Now come in from the doorway. It's far too cold to be standing around outside."
He ushered Kasell inside and closed the door behind him.
"Follow me please," he said, and exited to a side room.
How did he know I was coming Kasell wondered? Maybe Sorensen phoned him or somethin. Yea that must be what happened.
"So what brings you to my home?" asked Harmonia, as Kasell entered the room.
"Well it's er-"
"Because Sorensen told you I'm mad, dangerous and promote suicide as a lifestyle?"
"Well er-"
"Look son, I'm an old man with a lot of experience under my belt. So whatever you've come to tell me, can't shock, embarrass or upset me."
"I'll come to the point then," said Kasell, trying to sound business like. "I'm here because you're considered to be a threat to the city and-"
"You've come here to warn me to back off otherwise you'll expose my private life."
"Yea that's exactly it. How, how did ya know?"
"Because this has happened before. A guy like you came around and tried ta put the frightners on me, and before him there was another guy and before him another. Do you want to go down tha same road as them?"
Kasell retreated slightly.
"Er what road's that?"
"The road to eternal frustration."
"I don't get ya."
"Then get this and get it good!" snapped Harmonia, suddenly towering over him. "You can expose me for all you're worth, but you'll be wasting your time. So expose away. No hold on. Why bother with exposes when you can kill me instead."
He reached up onto a shelf and brought down a hand gun. He offered it to Kasell.
"Here take it. No one's going to give a damn about you killing an old crazy like me."
Kasell turned his back on Harmonia and went and sat down.
"Look if it's anything ta you I -"
"Don't believe in what you're doing."
Kasell was surprised by the remark.
"Yea how did ya know?"
Harmonia put the gun back up on the shelf.
"Because it's written in big dayglo letters in your eyes Kasell."
Kasell sighed and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. He offered one to Harmonia.
"Do ya smoke?"
"No, but you go ahead. I'll fetch an ashtray."
Harmonia left the room and Kasell groaned silently. What am I doing tryin to get this mentally lucid man to keep quiet? Come to think of it what am I doin tryin ta keep anyone quiet, regardless of their mental state? Maybe I should do myself a favour and take a look at my own cerebral condition.
Harmonia returned with the ashtray and a bottle of mineral water.
"Here you are," he said, handing Kasell the ashtray. "Fancy a drop of water with your nicotine?"
"Why not," laughed Kasell. "It makes tha passage of tar inta tha lungs so much more satisfyin."
Harmonia chuckled and sat down opposite him.
"Do you mind if I see what's written about me in the file?"
"No of course not," said Kasell, and handed it to him.
Harmonia read it and every now and then a deep laugh
exploded from his throat.
"So I wear women's underwear now do I? That's a new one on me. Not very original though is it."
"Not really no," agreed Kasell. "Even if it was it'd make no difference ta me. Dress up as a seal fa all I care."
"Um a seal. May give that a try some time."
He handed the file back to Kasell.
"Must have taken Sorensen quiet a while to put this lot together. Must have cost him a pretty packet too. An all round grand waste of his energy before election time. Good!"
"Is Sorensen a candidate?" asked Kasell.
"No not anymore. Now he puts all his effort into harassing people like me."
Harmonia laughed.
"Well at least tires to."
They drank in silence for a while. Then Harmonia said,
"Have you seen anything of the city yet?"
"I've seen the part of Glade Avenue I live in and I've seen a bit of Highpoint," replied Kasell.
"How do you fancy me taking you on a tour of the rest of it?"
"Yea that'd be cool."
"Ready then?"
"What you mean go now?"
"Why not?"
"No reason at all," said Kasell.
"Good. The first place we'll go to is Highpoint bridge," explained Harmonia, grabbing his car keys and pulling on his coat and hat. "You can see the whole city from there."
They drove out of Klier Place and joined the steady flow of traffic moving east towards Highpoint bridge. The streets were congested and the slow progress up to the highway gave Kasell a chance to study his surroundings.
Compared ta Glade Avenue Highpoint is so dull he thought, as he watched the armies of commuters filing down the streets and disappearing into various subway stations. Everyone dressed the same. Everyone doin tha same thing. The only thing I like about this place is the architecture. Other than that Highpoint has nothin ta offer me.
"Is it true there's only two districts in the city?" asked Kasell.
"Yes only two," confirmed Harmonia. "Originally Glade Avenue used to be a small, industrial city and Highpoint it's more sophisticated twin. Over the years they merged and became Golden city."
"Why Golden city?"
"It was the name visitors gave it after they saw the sun lighting up the skyscrapers right here in Highpoint's downtown. Plus of course a lot of people made a lot of money here during the boom years and I guess the name Golden city was considered a lot more evocative in terms of attracting finance than Highpoint or Glade Avenue. To keep the locals happy they kept the old names as districts."
"So the city is split in half."
"Yes that's right. You have this part, Highpoint's downtown on the west side of the river and on the east side you have the suburbs of Highpoint East. Then of course you have the wasteland and beyond that Glade Avenue."
"I obviously missed the river when I came through the tunnel," said Kasell.
"Well all that's about to change. Here comes Highpoint bridge."
Before Kasell had chance to look around they had left the skyscraper lined avenues and were now elevated hundreds of feet above a wide expanse of dark water. In stark contrast, light poured out in great vertical sheets from the skyscrapers of downtown Highpoint, and on the eastern bank from the plush riverside mansions of Highpoint East. He looked in the direction of Glade avenue and saw a sprinkling of dim lights flickering there.
"Looks like Glade Avenue got tha short straw when it merged with Highpoint," noted Kasell, tilting his head towards it's black expanse.
"It has never been any different Kasell,""explained Harmonia. "Glade Avenue has always and will always be the poor relation to Highpoint."
"Yea the worlds full of Highpoints and Glade Avenues," said Kasell. "It's just that here it's all seems so clear cut. There's no shadin. Just luxury on one side and poverty on tha other."
Harmonia nodded in agreement.
"Tell me Kasell. What's a smart guy like you doing working for a dumb guy like Sorensen?"
Kasell lit a cigeetre.
"Originally I came to work fa Sorensen cause I thought I'd be helping people. Ya know givin them a chance ta start again." "
"And now?"
"Now I realise I was naive ta come here and think I could ever make a difference. Especially if I'm workin fa someone like Sorensen. Tha guy is unbelievable. I've only been with him for a couple of days and already I feel like killing him."
"It's usual."
"What about you Harmonia? How come you're involved with Sorensen?"
"Simple. I married Pristil the woman he always loved."
"And did she love him?"
Harmonia laughed.
"No. But he clung to the hope that she may do one day."
"And he's never forgiven ya fa marryin her right."
"Yes that's right. For the last thirty years he's been on my case. So far though all he's succeeded in doing is upping his own blood pressure."
His buoyant mood seemed to waiver momentarily and the same tension Kasell had seen in the photograph was captured in his eyes once again.
"Mind you he's doubled his efforts to nail me since Pristil took her own life three years ago."
He sighed wearily and pulled the car over onto the side of the road and parked up.
"Originally I was going to join her, but when the day arrived I realised I wanted to live on. I told Pristil of my intention and she said she didn't want to go alone. At the last minute she changed her mind, came here to Highpoint bridge and dived off." Harmonia smiled again and the colour returned to his cheeks.
"Her body was never found. That's how she would have wanted it."
"That's good," said Kasell. "I've always believed a person should have tha right ta do what ever they want with their lives and that incudes terminatin it."
Harmonia looked disconsolate.
"Sadly society doesn't accept that philosophy. It teaches us that committing suicide is evil. But what is evil about making the choice to move beyond this life?"
For a few moments neither men spoke. Both captivated by the lack of control they had over their lives and ways of changing the situation. As far as Harmonia was concerned the way forward was through love, understanding and re-education, where as Kasell's solution was built upon a heated bullet and a twitching corpse.
"When you look at the city Kasell what do you see?" Harmonia asked shortly.
"I see buildings and I see people," replied Kasell.
Harmonia faced him and the smile on his lips broadened.
"Yes Kasell that is exactly what I see too."
He turned the key in the ignition and rejoined the traffic passing into Highpoint East.
"It says in the file you was a painter. Do ya still paint?" asked Kasell.
"Yes I still a paint. It's the one thing that's remained constant throughout my life. Though I don't show anymore. I'm done with all that gallery crowd. I've spent a life time hiding behind polite smiles and reassuring handshakes. Now it's time to live a little more honestly."
"That's good," said Kasell.
"Maybe it would've been good if I had made the decision thirty years ago," said Harmonia, with a regretful flick of is hand. "But I'm not going to dwell on what might have been. I have to deal with the here and the now. Anyway enough of me. What do you think of Golden city so far?"
"I like it."
Harmonia looked surprised.
"I haven't heard anyone say that for a while. Well at least not since the city has been labelled as the crime centre of the universe. When I say the city I mean Glade Avenue. To most people the place is a nest of murderous rapists and muggers waiting to pounce from the other side of the wasteland."
"And what do you think?" asked Kasell.
"I think Glade Avenue's much the same as anywhere else. Except it lacks the shiny ornaments of places like Highpoint. The people are the same under all the pretence and comfort. I should know I've lived in Highpoint all my life."
"Do ya go ta Glade Avenue much?"
"I go from time to time. But I haven't been there for some years. Tonight will be an ideal time to visit it again."
They turned off to the north, taking the highway marked Highpoint East and sped through miles of densely populated suburbs. It was the holiday season and the high streets were crammed with shoppers seeking gifts and other convivial paraphernalia; smiling children, snug in thick scarfs and woolly hats, gazed into shop windows with wonderment sparkling in their eyes, whilst parents, laden down by gifts tied with big red ribbons, struggled from store to store, fixed smiles beginning to crack.
Kasell laughed to himself. It's good ta see everyone's behavin just how they're told ta. Tha parents are smilin. Tha kids are smilin. Tha manager of tha shop is smilin. Tha man who makes tha toys is smilin, tha bank man is smilin......everyone smilin and partyin cause they been told ta. He lit a cigarette and wondered if those same parents would murder they're own kids if they were told to? Probably he thought and relaxed back in the seat.
The shops, people and suburbia gradually dipped below Kasell's point of vision as they drove onto the elevated section of the highway. Now all he could see was dark concrete and the lights of the cars accelerating along it.
It's a relief to be away from tha suburbs thought Kasell. If I had ta live there I'd go insane. Probably turn inta one of them mass murderer types, who spends his Saturday afternoon's gunin down local shoppers.
The idea made Kasell laugh out loud.
"What's so funny ?" asked Harmonia.
"Oh nothin really. I was just thinkin what a nightmare it'd be if I woke up and found myself livin a suburban lifestyle."
"They are rather soulless aren't they," agreed Harmonia. "I'm more of a big empty space man myself. After Pristil's death I used to come out to the wasteland with a small tent and stay for weeks, painting, thinking, watching the sun set. It was so peaceful I'd forget about everything."
"Sounds excellent," said Kasell. "Exactly tha kinnda life I dream about livin."
"Yea it was good. But in tha end tha city pulled me back in. I suppose once you have it in your blood it's hard to flush it out."
"I never wanna flush it out," said Kasell. "I love it all too much."
"Yes it certainly does have it's charms," agreed Harmonia. "But now days I like to keep a balance between congestion and space. Talking of which, here comes the wasteland."
The highway began to descend and as it did, the grey concrete walls obscuring the horizon gradually lowered to reveal a vast
empty blackness.
"I came through here earlier," said Kasell. "But I don't remember the wasteland being so big."
"That's because the train tracks go straight," explained Harmonia. "The road we're on takes us out into the north eastern wasteland.
Then we turn to the south and cross the border into Glade Avenue."
"How come there's so much wasteland?"
"It's what remains of Glade Avenue's industrial belt. When the two cities merged the administration built Highpoint East and also encouraged companies to locate to this area by offering rent free land. Then the recession hit and business' moved away. At first there was plans to re-develop the area, and as you probably saw when you came in on the train, they got as far as a few parks and some riding stables. But then all the money switched to Highpoint and that was the end of that."
"So where have all the factories and buildings gone?"
"They were demolished so people couldn't move in and live around here. All that's left now is a few bricks and a couple of iron girders."
As they drove further into the wasteland the number of cars on the road dwindled to zero and the only sound now was the engine and the wind buffeting the vehicle as it sped through the darkness.
"Why isn't there a direct road from Highpoint to Glade Avenue?"asked Kasell.
"Because they don't want too many people comin into Highpoint from Glade Avenue, and I suppose they thought no one from Highpoint would ever want to go in the opposite direction. To reach Glade Avenue by road, is as you're experiencing a long, lonely trip."
They drove in silence for a while. Finally Kasell said,
"Why did ya start paintin?"
"I started painting as a sort of revenge," replied Harmonia, eyes sparkling suddenly. "Within the flick of a hand I could destroy everybody who had tried to destroy me. All the lies and petty rules of living were smashed as I swept my brush over the canvas.
Painting, more than anything else in life, showed me I was in control of my own destiny."
"I'd like to see your work sometime. If that's okay with you."
"Of course it's okay. I'll show you some of my paintings tonight if you want. What do you say we pick up something to eat and go back to my place after a short visit to Glade Avenue?"
"Yea why not. I look forward to it."
They drove off the highway and followed what few signs there were to Glade Avenue. Shortly they could see the dull, orange aura produced by the lights of Kasell's home district on the horizon. As they drew closer the dark silhouettes of the crumbling project blocks and factories, belching out thick black smoke, loomed from within the sluggish, orange light. They came off the highway and passed into an area full of clubs and bars; neon signs flashed and crowds of slickly dressed ravers thronged along the main street. Kasell looked out on them going about their business of singing, drinking and living, and wondered how anyone failed to see the people here in Glade Avenue were just the same as anywhere else.
"This place never changes," noted Harmonia. "The same old streets. The same old faces."
"Ya sound like you disapprove," said Kasell.
"You're right. I do disapprove of people being forced to live like this."
"Live like what?"
"Like rabbits in a hutch. Like lepers isolated in vertical prisons."
"Oh it's not that bad. I've lived in these places all my life. Yea okay tha housin ain't up to much, but I'd rather be here than in Highpoint. That diamond necklace mentality would have me uziinit up at rush hour every night."
"Uzinit up? What does that mean?"
"It means get an Uzi machine gun and plenty of ammo. Walk out inta Highpoint at rush hour and start sparyin bodies."
"That's not very nice," said Harmonia.
"Tha world's not a very nice place. Full of not very nice people who love war and hate too much."
"I can't accept that Kasell. Do you really think there's not a single person out there, who given the choice, would not wish to live in a peaceful world?"
"It sure makes a nice fantasy. But it can never happen. Tha divisions are too strong and people are too weak."
"I can not accept that Kasell!" said Harmonia firmly. "I am not weak, neither, as far as I can tell are you, or for that matter a lot of other good people I have met in my life."
He thumped the stirring wheel.
"It's not Human nature to live like this! It's unnatural and compromising to be tied down by wars and insanity the whole bloody time. Just think how much more advanced we would be if our motivation wasn't destruction and control."
"But it is our nature or at least it's the nature of the people who do all the destroyin and controllin.
"Yes Kasell. But that's because they have never been shown any other way."
"No Harmonia. You're bein too kind. They're evil people who control and destroy a planet populated by weak people. I don't see why you can't see that."
"And I don't understand why you refuse to accept that it can be changed!"
"If it could've been changed it would've happened by now. Look at all the revolutions that have been sold out or put down."
"And what about the ones that have succeeded. The ones that have brought us real change and real hope for the future."
"Tha revolutions ya talk about have only modified the same system. Plus most people who call themselves revolutionaries are either fakes or naive idealists like -"
Kasell stopped himself.
"Like me? " said Harmonia, finishing the sentence for him. "That was what you were going to say wasn't it."
"Well.... yea, yea okay it was what I was goin ta say. But it's true.
Well as far as I'm concerned it's true. All I've ever known the average peasant ta do in any revolution is ta try his hardest ta be an average peasant."
"And what about the peasants like you and me who aspire to be something different? Don't you see them as well?"
"Yea I see em. But I don't trust em or think they can do anythin for me. Tha only one whose gonna do that is me."
Harmonia shook his head in disagreement.
"That approach will get us nowhere. We need to help each other if we are ever going to sort out this place."
Kasell shook his head.
"If there's one thing I've learnt in this life, it's if ya want somethin ya have ta go get it yaself."
"What about your neighbours living in crumbling project blocks? How easy is it for them to go get something from life?"
"I know how hard their lives are," replied Kasell. "Don't forget, I come from a place that's no different from Glade Avenue. I've seen how tha neighbourhood has destroyed people. But I knew I couldn't help them."
"But you came to work for Sorensen's Saints. Surely that shows compassion?"
"Yea it shows compassion,but that's almost gone now. Tha final nail in the coffin was Sorensen. Once I met him I knew there was no point in carin anymore."
"And I thought I had a cynical view of the world," said Harmonia.
"Not cynical, just realistic," answered Kasell.
Harmonia smiled and raised a hand in mock surrender.
"Okay Kasell I give up. Let's go get a takeaway and head back to my place. Maybe a bit of food will make you more responsive to what I'm saying."
Kasell smiled too.
"I doubt it,but let's go eat anyway."
They picked up a curry after a short tour of the reset of Glade Avenue and drove back to Harmonia's home.
"How come you don't have any paintins on tha wall?" asked Kasell, as they ate.
"Basically I'm not into self adulation," replied Harmonia. "Plus I don't like to dwell on the past too much. I always want to create a better painting and having my home full of past works doesn't help me go forward."
Harmonia drank some water and continued.
"That's the thing with art, once you start to discover what a valuable weapon it is, you need to make the weapon more powerful. But you must also know how to harness that power."
He frowned and rubbed his forehead
"Sorry Kasell. I'm rambling."
He went over to a cupboard and brought out a selection of canvas' wrapped in brown paper.
"These are some of my favourites," he said, pulling off the paper and placing them on the empty easels dotted around the room.
There were four paintings in all. The first a gold and red abstract of Highpoint, the second a sparkling silver scape, half eclipsed by a fierce red sun. The third was of a magnificent alcazarian structure surrounded by lush forests. The final painting was a portrait of a woman with flowing gold hair and cool red eyes.
"Who's the woman?" asked Kasell, knowing instinctively it was Pristil.
"That's Pristil," replied Harmonia, with obvious pride. "I painted it six months before she killed herself."
Kasell was unsure what to say and so said nothing.
"There's no need to feel award Kasell," said Harmonia, patting him on the shoulder. "Pristil was, and still is a very important part of my life. But life goes on."
"She's a very beautiful woman," said Kasell sincerely.
Harmonia picked up the portrait and held it at arms length.
"Yes she is, both in looks and spirit. I have never met another person in this world who has come close to her. She was one in a million."
"Yea I can see that," said Kasell. "It's such a shame that people like Pristil feel tha urge to get away from this place. If only tha arseholes took tha same route."
Harmonia carefully placed the portrait back on the easel and both men sat down and finished the meal.
"What are you going to tell Sorensen?" asked Harmonia.
"I'll tell him what ever you want me ta tell him."
"In that case tell him I'm going to keep quiet. That way you'll hold onto your job and he'll be happy."
Okay," agreed Kasell.
He pulled on his jacket and stood up from the table.
"I'd betta be goin or I'll miss tha last train home."
"Okay," said Harmonia. "I'm sure I'll see you again soon. Sorensen's bound to send you over here for a progress report sometime in the future."
They shook hands and Kasell turned into the street and headed back to Highpoint train station. On the way he saw two cops viciously beating a beggar and wondered how Harmonia's utopian vision would accommodate the likes of them.
Back in the silence of his flat, Kasell smoked a spliff and listened to the soft piano music filtering up from the flat below.
It feels good to be away from all the noise and tackiness he thought as he lay on the floor and slowly stretched out the tension in his limbs. Without doubt this is the most beautiful part of the day. Tha silence and the darkness transforms me. Almost makes me feel free. I know what Harmonia meant when he said he'd had enough of the gallery crowd. I can't imagine anything worse than bright lights in my eyes and loud, assured voices ringing in my ears. Darkness and silence. Yea they're my best friends. With them around I can concentrate on the job of livin rather than worryin about all the petty problems in this place.
He stood up and walked over to the window. Outside the cold drizzle had given way to snow and a dirty white blanket covered the area. He opened the balcony doors and finished the spliff, tossing it down into the snow. As he did, he noticed two lovers kissing tenderly under the intermittent light of a street lamp.
I wonder how Harmonia copes with life now Pristil's dead he thought? I mean it's not every day we meet someone who we instantly feel really close to is it.
He put together three cigarette papers and a sardonic smile curved onto his lips.
What a screwed up place this is when people like Harmonia, who are strong and kind are shoved aside and labelled as mad and dangerous, whilst the really dangerous people like Sorensen are elevated to positions of power and influence.
He broke off a piece of cigarette and mixed it with the weed.
I should stop tellin myself things I already know and concentrate on what I don't know he thought. Like for example why I'm still workin fa Sorensen.
He rolled up the spliff, lit it and lay back on the floor.
Maybe when I go into work tomorrow I should resign. Then again maybe not. I can't just up and leave like that. Where would I go for a start? Back to Clareton? I don't think so. I should just cool out and stay here like Harmonia advised. Yea that's what I'm gonna do, stay here and treat the problem of Sorensen and all the rest of it like a challenge.
END CHAPTER 5.

CHAPTER 6.
Kasell lay on the bed in his apartment, dreaming of a tranquil sun drenched island, surrounded by a calm clear blue sea, when the sound of the phone ringing in the hall woke him with a start. He looked across at the clock- 10:30 showed up on the digital display.
"Shit I'm late!"
He sprang from the floor and dashed out to the phone knowing it would be Sorensen.
"Hallo."
"Don't ya worry about Hallo Kasell!" shouted Sorensen. "You get ya arse over ta my office right this minute if ya wanna keep ya job."
I was right he thought and stuck up a middle finger to the phone.
"Kasell ! Are ya listenin ta me?"
"Yea Mr Sorensen I can hear ya loud and clear."
"If that's tha case, why are ya still talkin ta me on tha phone and not on ya way over here?"
"Okay Mr Sorenson, I'm hanging up tha phone and comin over to ya right now."
"I hope fa your sake ya got a result at Harmonia's last night. Cause if ya haven't-"
Kasell put down the phone, went back to the room, quickly washed and dressed and left for Sorensen's office.
When he arrived Sorensen scowled at him from behind the desk.
"Sorry I'm late Mr Sorensen. I had a -"
"I don't care what ya had," snarled Sorensen. "All I'm interested in is how ya got on at Harmonia's?"
"I did good," replied Kasell, trying his best to sound up beat.
"Whadya mean ya did good?"
"I mean he's agreed ta stop tellin people it's cool ta kill themselves."
The dull hue in Sorensen's eye immediately transformed into a satisfied glint.
"So he's decided ta cooperate at last has he. Well this is a cause fa celebration Kasell. Hand me over that bottle of whisky and two glasses."
Kasell did so and Sorensen poured out two measures. He was not looking forward to drinking the whisky. One because he hated whisky and two because he saw nothing worth celebrating. Though he needn't have worried, Sorensen had no intention of sharing the beverage and slugged back both glass fulls.
He poured another glass of whisky and lit a long, fat cigar contentedly.
"So what did he say when ya confronted him with tha file?"
"He looked shocked."
"How shocked? Like he was havin a really bad time?" asked Sorensen hopefully.
"Yea exactly like that."
"Good," said Sorensen.
He stood up and walked over to the window and for a few minutes puffed on the cigar thoughtfully.
"Ya know what's wrong with this place Kasell?" he said shortly. "People here don't wanna help themselves. They've got too used ta tha likes of me bailin em out with welfare cheques and free this and free that. When I was a boy things were a thousand times harder, but no one took drugs, begged fa money or did any of other that shit everybody's into today."
He looked at Kasell accusingly.
"Ya ain't involved in drugs are ya son?"
"Me? Na. Drugs are not really my thing."
"Good glad ta hear it. Make sure it stays that way."
He puffed on the cigar some more, then said,
"Anyway as I was sayin. I just don't know what's happened to tha world. I mean kids these days don't have no respect fa nothin - especially tha law! In my day we had a few drinks, then it was home before midnight. Now days tha kids are out all hours and tha only way they seem to amuse themselves is by kickin ta death
defenceless old ladies."
Kasell let Sorensen's words drift over him and thought how he would much rather be listening to the pianist who lived in his block instead of this predictable drivel.
"Ya listenin ta me son?"
Kasell looked up at Sorenson.
"Yea I'm listenin."
"Well make sure ya are. What I'm sayin ta ya will help ya stay on tha right path."
He fixed the cigar between his teeth and sat back down at his desk and poured another whisky.
"Now I want ya ta report ta Sergeant Helen again. He's got another job for ya. Same old routine. Loser about ta terminate and so on. So let's be havin ya!"
Kasell flashed Sorensen a fake smile, collected the details and left to meet Helen.
He found the usual crowd of on-lookers gazing up to the summit of the tall, chrome tower housing Highpoint Bank; bright morning sunshine lit up the structure with an incredible silver luminosity and as Kasell approached he was forced to cover his eyes, such was the intensity of the metallic glare.
He noticed many of the on-lookers wore black wrap around sunglasses, vendored by a young Oriental guy mingling with the crowd. He found it amusing how the people without sunglasses squinted and moaned as they tried to catch a glimpse of the guy up on the ledge; then watched as the disenchantment turned to smiles of satisfaction once they swopped money for sunglasses and a squint for a clear view.
When Kasell came across sergeant Helen he was looking straight up at the building without a squint or a moan. He too had bought some sunglasses.
"Sergeant Helen," called Kasell.
Helen turned, pulled his shades down to the tip of his nose and sneered at Kasell.
"Late again Mr Suicide."
"Where's tha guy I gotta get down?" asked Kasell matter of factly.
"Tha guy? Don't ya mean Sergeant Steve Riser of tha elite army corp?"
"Is that tha name of tha guy on tha ledge."
"Sure is?"
"Any other details?"
"Yea I got other details-like he's a typical chip on ya shoulder ex- army loser."
Kasell cut his eyes at the cop.
"Ya know Helen, you're a really nice guy. Maybe it's somethin ta do with ya havin a woman's name."
Helen removed his sunglasses and glared at Kasell.
"Don't push ya luck boy. I had ta leave a hot piece a pussy so'se I could see ya sorry face this mornin."
"Well that's too bad Helen. Now can we go get tha guy down?"
"Maybe I should get on ya face with my fist a little hah?"
Kasell stepped up to Helen.
"Any time."
Helen laughed and turned towards the entrance of the building.
"Come on Saint tough guy, let's get this loser down."
Kasell considered replying, instead he followed the swaggering cop into the building.
On the way up to the ledge Helen told Kasell about his latest sexual exploits, and his face positively glowed as he spoke.
"So anyway I said hey bitch, don't ya think I know what tha fuck is goin on inside that little head of yours. Don't ya think I can't see ya imaginin how good it would be ta suck that guy's prick. So she says -No Larry I'm- and I tell her shut tha fuck up bitch! I've had enough of ya bullshit fa one night. Now go get me a beer before I take my belt ta ya. Then this jerkoff butts in and says Hey Larry cool down on tha girl man. She's only havin a little fun. So I turn ta him and I say - Yea well I don't like her fun, and mores to he point I don't like little fucks like ya tellin me what my girl's up ta. Next thing I know and tha guy's all apolofuckingetic. But I don't accept his apologies and look around fa somethin ta take from tha sucka. First off I considered havin his gold chain and watch. Then bingo! In walks tha tallest, horniest blonde, with tha biggest tits you've ever seen. She slinks up to tha pussy boy and coos in his ear. I grab pussy boy and put it to him that unless tha bitch comes home with me, I'll make sure he spends a few weeks in hospital. Well I needn't have asked tha sucka anything. Tha blonde shoved her tits in my face and demanded that I fuck her. Whad'ya think about that ah?"
I have ta look at this as entertainment thought Kasell. Otherwise I'll end up pushing Helen off a ledge some day.
"You're a real lucky guy," he said, without a hint of sarcasm.
The positive glow left Helen's face.
"If I was lucky I'd be in bed with that blonde instead of takin ya ta rescue some loser," moaned Sorensen.
"Life has it's ups and downs," offered Kasell.
Helen stepped in front of him and thrust out his chest.
"Ya tryna be funny or somethin?"
"What'd ya mean?"
"Ya know what I fuckin mean!"
"Sorry Helen but I don't know what ya fuckin mean!"
"Ya said life has it's ups and downs right."
"Yea?"
"Ya know ups an downs. Like as if ya laughin at me by sayin up and down cause it's supposed ta mean fuckin. And at tha moment ya know I ain't gettin no fuckin cause I'm takin ya up ta tha ledge."
Kasell groaned and rubbed his brow.
"Can ya just take me to tha guy please?"
"Take yaself superhero. Tha waster's on tha sixteenth floor. I'm off ta service some snatch."
Thank god for that thought Kasell and made his way to the sixteenth floor.
As Kasell approached the office door he heard voices coming from within. That's strange he thought. I was sure every body had been evacuated from tha building? Unless it's this Steve Riser guy, but I doubt it.
He stepped quietly up to the door and listened.
"So join Medicon and secure a brighter future for your family.""
He heard music start up and realised it was the TV. He
quietly opened the door and stepped inside. Sure enough a t.v. sat on a reception desk a few yards ahead of him. He closed the door softly and slipped quietly up to the corner of the wall and peered around the angle. He could see Riser out on the balcony; he had his back turned to him and was looking down into the street, shouting at the crowd.
I don't wanna scare him thought Kasell, so I'll wait until he moves in a bit closer. He hid behind the reception desk, and with little else to do watched t.v. The adverts ended and a programme called TodayToday with Earl Vilesonson came on.
A lean, angular man with a fake orange suntan, trim moustache and immaculately blow dried hair, sat opposite a thickly set black man, wearing a tight fitting dark suite, sweating brow and glistening Jerrie curl.
"Welcome to the show Mayor Faayka," said the tall man.
"Good evenin Earl and thank you for allowin me tha opportunity to speak on behalf of tha citizens of Golden city."
"It's a pleasure your Lordship," said Vilesonson. "Now the first question I want to ask relates to the increasing crime rate in our city. Informed opinion is saying the citizens are loosing any confidence they had in the law and as a consequence may not return you to office on election day."
Faayka frowned regretfully and said,
"Sadly in today's world crime is a concern for all of us and my administration, more than any other, has come down very hard on
criminal activity."
Vilesonson looked unconvinced and said,
"Those words sound very comfortable here in the studio Mister Mayor, but to the people of Golden city crime is a very real concern. TodayToday has conducted a survey amongst your citizens
and found over ninety percent of those questioned are afraid to leave their homes after dark. Some are even suggesting the city's police force have lost control. They say the street gangs are the law in Golden city now."
Faayka listened with concern, then said,
"Unfortunately Golden city has it's share of social problems just like everywhere else. But when we look at tha figures for other major cities we actually find we live in a very safe environment. Let me give ya some facts. Two thousand new police officers recruited in tha last month. Five million Notes from tha private sector for organisations like Citizens patrol, who now, because of tha extra funding, can recruit more members and provide better training facilities to stop crime before it even starts. Victim compensation schemes, providing much needed money for those affected by crime. Not to mention other initiatives such as video cameras, extra street lightin, citizens awareness and a whole range of measures ta improve still further, tha high quality of life within Golden City. Further more, let me warn all criminals out there,probably watchin this show on a stolen t.v. set, that every time ya harm a citizen of Golden city I'll see to it ya put behind bars for a very long time."
"Do you think this will satisfy the discontentment of the white voters?" asked Vilesonson. "After all isn't there an increasing concern that you are soft on black criminals.......especially when the victim of the crime is white."
"A criminal is a criminal regardless of his or her color," replied Faayka sternly. "And I repeat what I just said. While I'm Mayor of Golden city I guarantee all criminals will be punished to tha fullest extent of tha law. Whoever they are."
"So you're saying the white voters need not worry because justice will always be done."
"Yes Earl that's exactly what I'm sayin. And my message to tha white population of this great city is this. Before I see anything like color or religion, I see us, tha good, honest, hard workin citizens of Golden city as brothers and sisters winning tha war against an evil empire of police murderers, drugs addicts and perverts. Yes we are of many skin colors, but I know we have only one shade when it comes to keepin our streets clear of filth."
Kasell laughed. Nice speech Mayor Faayka. Shame about tha reality. He turned away from the t.v. and checked on Riser. He remained in the same unapproachable position, so he returned to the t.v. once again. Faayka was speaking.
"And if I may add-"
"I'll just have to cut in on you there a moment Mister Mayor," interrupted Vilesonson, with a look of concerned urgency. "I'm getting some news in my ear piece from the Highpoint district of Golden city. It appears a man called Steve Riser, a decorated war veteran, is holding your daughter July hostage and is threatening to throw her off the-"
Faayka ripped the earpiece out of Vilesonson's ear and frantically listened to what was being said.
"Oh god they got my daughter!" he cried, and rushed from the studio.
Kasell immediately looked over at Riser, and sure enough there was the girl cowering beside him.
Jesus Christ! I'd better get out there and try and do somethin.
He raced up to the glass door and tapped on it.
"Hallo Steve my name's Kasell. I'm here ta talk if ya want?"
Riser turned swiftly and grimaced at Kasell, whilst the tiny girl he clutched began to scream.
"Talk? What's there ta talk about!" shouted back Riser.
"Plenty of things. Like ya bein a hero and all that."
"What does that matter now?"
"It matters a whole lot," Kasell assured him. "Now why don't ya let tha girl go and come inside?"
"No way man. If I jump she's comin too."
"But didn't ya fight in a war ta give kids like her tha chance ta live good lives?"
"Yea that's right. I deprived other kids of their fathers so our kids could have decent lives, but look around mister negotiator and see how indecent it's all become."
"That's why we need people like ya to stay around Steve. Now bring in tha girl before she get's hurt."
Riser's grimace turned to puzzlement.
"What? Ya want me ta bring her in so she can live in this place?"
"No I mean bring her in so she can have choice," said Kasell.
"Do ya think she has any choice with a father like Faayka?"
"Why don't ya let her decide that?"
He smiled at Kasell, pushed July Faayka against the glass door
and leapt off of the building. Kasell pulled open the door and
grabbed her. The young girl looked up at him with wide watery eyes and fainted in his arms. He jerked forward as her body went limp and just managed to stop the both of them toppling over the edge. The crowd gave a huge gasp and then applauded wildly as Kasell carried July into the safety of the office. He lay her on the floor and caught his breath. Wow that was close he thought. I almost died out there. He took a few deep breaths and composed himself. Maybe I should take up workin for a cleanin company or something. This job is bad fa my health.
He picked up the girl and walked back down the stairs. When he reached the lobby he was surrounded by t.v. and newspaper people, asking him a thousand different questions. Suddenly they parted
and out of the crowd stepped Faayka and Sorensen.
"Ya saved my daughter's life," gasped Faayka.
Kasell handed July to him and he cradled her in his arms. She opened her eyes and looked up at her father.
"Daddy is that you?"
"Yea it's me baby. You're safe now."
Faayka gave his daughter to the paramedics and turned back to Kasell and embraced him. As he did flash bulbs flashed and cameras whirred.
What a fantastic photo opportunity this is fa my election campaign he thought and hugged Kasell again, then, face flushed with emotion swung them both round to face the attendant media.
"Here at Highpoint bank," he began emotionally. "We've seen how good will always over come evil. But more importantly tha events of today have demonstrated beyond any question, that regardless of tha color of our skins, there are really only two kinds of people. Good people and bad people. Now if you'll excuse me I'm goin to see my daughter."
A third of the media mob pursued Faayka, whilst the remainder instantly closed in around Kasell. Sorensen scrambled up onto a car bonnet and called for restraint.
"If ya follow me ladies and gentlemen we'll be holding a press conference in tha bank's main conference suite. Then ya can ask Kasell all tha questions ya want."
Sorensen grabbed Kasell and pulled him along with him.
"Let me do most of tha talkin," he whispered. "Ya just answer tha general questions. Don't worry I'll make it brief."
"No problem," agreed Kasell, and was swept into the conference suite. The room was hastily prepared and Sorensen, Kasell and the attendant media took their seats. Once they were all settled Sorensen stood up and addressed them.
"Thankyou ladies and gentlemen fa bein patient," he said to the assorted journalists facing him.
"I'm sure you're as keen ta tell your readers, viewers and listeners about tha happy outcome of today's terrible events, as we are ta recount them. So I'd ask ya ta put ya questions in an orderly manner so they can be answered fully."
He sat back down.
"Could we have tha first question please."
"Kasell what was it like up there on the ledge with a maniac?" asked a journalist, at the back of the suite.
"Well I don't think I'd call Steve Riser a maniac," said Kasell. "More of a frustrated guy. What ever he was it was scary for everyone involved."
"What did you do to convince him to let go of the girl?" asked another.
"I asked him to give her a chance to live."
"Was that it?"
"Yea that was it."
Sorensen jumped to his feet and beaming profusely said,
"As you'd expect from a Sorensen Saint, Kasell is a very modest
young man. But let me assure ya, beneath this humble exterior is a man of great integrity, compassion and strength."
Sorensen sat down again and the next question came from the floor.
"Mister Sorenson, many people would agree you possess the very qualities you've just associated with Kasell. In light of this and your obvious love of people and justice, would you ever consider running for mayor?"
Sorenson laughed at the suggestion.
"No I would never considered it. We already have a very capable mayor. Next question please."
"Kasell this is Ed Harris from Golden city chronicle. Do ya have a message for tha women who've been jammin t.v. switch boards regarding your eligibility?
"Yea I'd like ta say that I'm very flattered by tha offers," replied Kasell. "But as yet I have no plans ta marry."
"Not even your current girlfriend?"
Before Kasell could answer the question, Sorenson had jumped to his feet again and was calling a halt to the press conference.
"Okay ladies and gentlemen I'm afraid we'll have ta end
on that note. Thankya for comin and I look forward ta speakin ta ya in tha future. In tha meantime I'd ask ya all ta give Kasell a chance ta continue tha great work he's doin fa this city without interference."
The journalists began to depart, though most of them seemed very unhappy to do so.
"They don't seem very pleased with such a short press conference," noted Kasell. "I think they expected me ta tell them something more dramatic, when really there's not much ta tell."
"Oh there's plenty more fa us ta tell," replied Sorensen, with a satisfied smile. "Except tha next time we tell it, we won't be in a bank's hastily arranged conference suite. We'll be on live t.v. with an audience of millions."
"We will?" said Kasell.
"Yes we will. Well when I say we I actually mean you."
"Me!"
"Yes you Kasell. You're gonna be on tha city's most popular t.v. show- TodayToday. I'll tell ya more about it when tha time comes."
"Why can't ya tell me now?"
"Because I don't know tha details yet. Now go home and take tha rest of tha day off. Ya deserve it."
I don't like tha sound of this thought Kasell as he left tha conference suite. Sorensen obviously realises this is a great opportunity ta build up his influence and ego. Trouble is, it seems like my dream of a quiet life will suffer in tha process.

CHAPTER 7
As Kasell left the conference suite he was surrounded by a crowd of admirers thrusting pens, roses and autograph books at him. He tried to make his way through them without fuss, but the sea of bodies made it impossible to move.
Tha best way ta deal with this he thought is ta be polite, but firm. Otherwise I'll never get rid of these people. He tried to speak, but the noise generated by the jostling crowd made it impossible to be heard.
A woman burst through the crowd and thrust a photograph of a womb scan in his face.
"See this," she gasped, pointing at the photograph. "This is my baby son and I'm gonna name him after ya.....
The woman's face was instantly shoved aside and a man appeared in her place.
"What do ya think?" he asked, pointing at his hair. "I had it styled just like yours."
Before Kasell could reply a pair of trainers were thrust under his nose.
"I can offer you a great sponsor ship deal?" said a smartly turned out sales rep.
The trainers and sales rep were quickly replaced by a cotton shirt, and the cotton shirt replaced by a tube of hair gel, the tube of hair gel replaced by a cigarette brand and the cigarette brand replaced by a deodorant or was it a chocolate bar? Kasell had no idea. His eyes had given up trying to identify the objects individually and instead merged them into a swirling nebula of consumer paraphernalia and excited jostling faces.
I'm goin ta have ta be a bit less polite and a lot louder he thought, otherwise I'll be here fa tha rest of my life.
"Shuuuutttt uuuuupppp!" he yelled.
The crowd instantly fell silent.
"Thank ya," he said, exhaling with relief. "Now I appreciate ya kindness and everythin, but I really have ta get back and file a report. So I'll say goodbye and wish ya all tha best."
Kasell turned and felt the eyes of the silent crowd burning into his back.
Keep walking he told himself. Don't look round. Just take tha first turning ya come to and run like hell.
When the turning appeared he slipped around it casually, then took off down the street. At the same moment the crowd took off after him; shouting his name so everyone in the street looked to see what was happening.
Run faster ya fool he told himself, as he weaved in between the people walking up the street. He accelerated away from the crowd, but as he did he bundled into a street cleaner's barrow and sent several people sprawling. As a result, those at the head of the pursuing crowd stumbled and Kasell just managed to roll out of the way as the bulk of the crowd came down in a great heap of tangled bodies.
He quickly picked himself up as the shouts of anger and pain filled his ears. I've gotta get away from here he thought desperately. His eyes darted from left to right as he ran and to his relief he spotted an alley. He quickly sprinted into it and crouched behind a collection of bins. To his relief the crowd ran past. He waited for a few minutes, then checking the coast was clear left the alley and quickly sprinted out of the area.
He came to a stop in a quiet side street under the black iron of Highpoint bridge and regained his breath. I've gotta get somethin ta drink he thought. All this runnin away business is thirsty work.
He walked towards the river and found a cafe. Before he went in he walked past a couple of times to check the place out.
Apart from an old man at the back, the place was empty. Ideal he thought and stepped inside.
To his dismay he saw Sergeant Helen sitting at a table with two school girls. He went to leave but the cop had already seen him.
"Well, well, if it's not Mister Suicide superstar comin thru tha door," shouted Helen, grinning. "I would've thought this kinnda place was way below ya lofty heights, now you're a celebrity and all."
Kasell ignored him and ordered a coffee.
"Is that really tha guy who saved tha Mayor's daughter?" asked one of the school girls excitedly.
"Yep that's Golden city's very own superhero," replied Helen loudly. "Would ya like ta meet him?"
The school girls giggled.
"Hey Kasell come over here. Tha girls wanna say hallo."
Kasell smiled and waved at the two young girls.
"Hi. How ya doin?"
"Fine," they replied in unison.
"Glad ta hear it."
He picked up his coffee and turned for the door.
"Is that all ya gotta say to ya public ha?" shouted Helen.
He flicked is hand dismissively.
"Ah you're just like everyone else. Ya get a bitta fame and suddenly ya can't lower yaself ta talk ta tha likes of me and my friends here. Well that's ok with me. But lettin down these pretty little things, well I think that's real ugly."
He turned to the girls.
"Would ya be upset if Kasell left without sharin a few minutes with us?"
The girls giggled again and Helen turned to Kasell with a mock, sad face.
"Come on man. Make tha girls day fa them ha?"
Kasell had no wish to offend the school girls so went over and joined them.
"Hallo I'm Kasell. Nice ta meet ya both."
The first school girl shook his hand and said,
"Can I have ya autograph please? I think what ya did taday was just tha greatest thing."
"Me too!" cried the other girl.
"Okay," agreed Kasell. "What's ya names?"
"I'm Sandra, said the first school girl.
"And I'm Sonya," said the second, and fluttered her eyelids at him.
Kasell pretended not noticed and wrote the autographs on couple of table mats. He handed them to the girls.
"Thanks," said Sonya. "My older sister thinks you're real handsome."
"Well that's very nice of her ta say so."
"She says you're tha kinnda guy she'd wanna marry."
"My mom says the same," chirped up Sandra.
Kasell smiled.
"Thank ya both very much. Now if you'll excuse me I've gotta go back ta work."
"Sit down," said Helen. "Spend a few minutes with ya fans."
"No I really have ta go."
"Please stay a little longer," said Sonya, once again fluttering her eyelids.
"Ok. I'll stay fa a little longer," agreed Kasell. "But once I've finished my coffee I'll really have ta get goin."
Helen patted him on the shoulder.
"You'd better get used ta this kinnda thing," he said. "All tha women are already goin crazy for ya."
Kasell discreetly shrugged his hand away.
"It'll pass," he assured him.
The waitress arrived with the coffees and Helen stood up to help her.
"Let me take that young lady," he said, with a lusty wink at Kasell.
The waitress groaned, shoved the tray at him and went back to the counter.
"I think she likes me," said Helen, as he distributed the coffees.
Kasell groaned too, but silently and turned the school girls.
"So are ya girls on a project from school or somethin?" he asked.
"No we're-"
Helen looked flushed suddenly and almost split coffee all over them.
"They're er here cause I er wanna make sure tha young girls of this city get ta see a friendlier side of us Golden city cops," he said, steadying himself. "Ya know what it's like these days with teenagers and tha law. I wanna show em we're not just here ta give ya a ticket or shut down ya party."
He turned to the schoolgirls.
"Ain't that right girls?"
"Yea it sure is right," agreed Sonya. "Larry-er I mean Sergeant Helen is real friendly. Unless ya smudge lipstick over his car like I did when he drove me ta school tha other day."
"Er. It's part of our new initiative ta see that school children arrive at er school safely," stammered Helen.
"That's very gracious of ya," said Kasell.
"Yea well ya know, always like ta keep tha citizens happy."
He turned to the schoolgirls.
"Ain't that right girls."
"Oh yea," agreed Sonya. "Sergeant Helen's always doin good things in tha community."
She stood up from the table ad the other school girl followed suite.
"Now if you'll excuse us, we're off to tha bathroom. We wanna make sure we look pretty for tonight."
"What ya off to tha movies or somethin?" asked Kasell.
"No we're goin fa a drive with Sergeant Helen."
Helen's posture stiffened still further.
"They're er goin out with some er friends," he stammered again. "I'm just drivin them ta tha meetin place."
He smiled weakly and cleared his throat.
"Like I just said, we want tha kids in this city ta be as safe as we can make em. Ya can't be too careful these days with all these perverts around."
"Umm," replied Kasell, raising his eyebrows.
Once the girls were out of sight Helen thrust his face at Kasell.
"Ya tryna suggest I'm playin around with young girls?"
Kasell casually lit a cigarette and leaned back in the chair.
"Ya said that not me."
"Listen ya piece of shit!" growled Helen, stabbing his index finger at Kasell. "I get regular woman's pussy and I don't need ta touch little girls. Ya got that!"
Kasell shoved the hand aside, stood up and without saying a word left the cafe.
I'm not gonna screw up my life by me ruinin Helen's or any cop's pigsty complexion he thought, as he marched down the street. Tha last thing I need at tha moment is some extra publicity as a result of punch up. I have ta limit tha damage done by this farce not add ta it.
When Kasell arrived home he found a note from Sorensen telling him to switch on his phone. He threw it in the bin, poured himself a glass of water and slumped down onto the floor.
I came to Golden city to rid myself of unnecessary crap
and look what's happened- I've landed myself guest billin on tha most popular show on TV! The thought made him shiver. For about five seconds I had pretty good anonymity in this city. Now everyone knows who I am. Maybe I should go somewhere else and start again? No that's a ridiculous idea. I'm gettin too paranoid about all this. It's bound ta blow over in a day or two, especially with an election just around tha corner.
The pianist from the flat below suddenly began to play. The sound of her fingers plying passionately over the keys soothed Kasell's brow and made him forget, at least in part, his new found and very much unanticipated fame.

CHAPTER 8 EIGHT.

Later that night Mayor Faayka sat in his penthouse at city hall and between bottles of lager, mulled over the events of his daughter's rescue.
One minute my little girl's kidnapped by a maniac, tha next she's safe and I get a real nice photo opportunity in tha bargain.
He frowned.
Then some big mouth journalist goes and suggests Sorensen should run fa my job.
He opened another bottle of beer and sank half it's contents.
Ah what tha hell. All in all it's been a good day. This is exactly tha kinnda incident I needed ta reinforce my message of good citizenship. I'll really ram it home to tha electorate that it'll serve everyone's interests if we work together. Once they've elected me they can tear each other ta pieces fa all I care. At tha end of tha day I'm grateful fa tha divisions in this city wether racial or otherwise. Cause if it was a harmonious place I doubt if I, or anyone like me, would be elected as Mayor. Thankfully these divisions exist and while they do, I'll use them ta further my ambition ta leave this place and enter tha wilds.
He slugged the beer angrily and wiped the froth from his upper lip with his sleeve.
If only I had such an easy solution for dealing with my opponents once I announce my intention ta build a new hospital. Perhaps I should consider killing them instead of payin them off or challengin them at tha ballot box in fake elections? Killing I've found is so much more of a pragmatic solution. Just a few select bullets in a few select heads and it's straight back down ta tha business of governin tha city.
He finished the beer and stepped out onto the balcony. A slight breeze eased his agitation, that all things could not be achieved instantly. Maybe a little target practice will help me keep patient he thought?
He went to the gun cabinet and selected a telescopic rifle, then moved out onto the balcony and fired at a couple of drunks sitting by the river. The drunk on the right dropped to the ground and lay motionless, whilst the second clutched at his right knee and writhed next to his companion. Faayka moved his sight to a traffic junction and blew out the tires of a line of cars waiting at a red light. He reloaded and took aim again: this time shooting two men guarding the door of a casino. He moved his sight over the crowds shopping a few streets away and was about to open fire on them when the door buzzer sounded.
He clicked on the security camera and saw Sorensen standing in the lobby. He opened the door and Sorensen walked into the elevator. A few minutes later a knock came at the door to Faayka's suite.
"Come in," said the Mayor.
The door opened and Sorensen stepped in sheepishly.
"Good afternoon Your Lordship."
"Good afternoon mister Sorensen," returned Faayka, with an even smile and firm handshake.
"Fancy a whisky?"
Sorenson nodded and Faayka poured the drinks.
"You're lookin a little er uneasy," noted Faayka, as he handed him the glass.
Sorensen gulped back the contents.
"I am?"
"Yea ya are. Maybe ya should work a few less hours?"
"Maybe ya right,"
"Another whisky?"
"Why not."
Faayka refilled the glass and handed it to Sorensen.
"Have ya heard tha gossip?"
"Gossip?"
"Yea apparently I have a new initial in my name."
Sorensen looked puzzled.
"New initial?"
"Yea like my name's Mayor x or is it x mayor? Perhaps ya could clear up tha mystery for me?"
"Me? Why should I be able ta do that?"
"Because rumour has it you're tha one whose mispellin my name."
Sorensen looked astonished.
"Ya sayin I'm tryna get ya outta office?"
"No that's what you're sayin."
Sorensen pulled a cigar from his top pocket and lit it. His hands revealed a slight tremor as he did so.
"As if I'd do that ta ya," he said, with a strained smile. "We go back a long way man."
"But we don't go forward a long way do we?"
"Look if ya referrin to tha stuff on TV Forget it. I don't have any intention of running fa Mayor. That journalist was outta line."
"Incidentally who was he?"
"He's a cub reporter at one of Vilesonson's studios. Don't worry he's history now."
"That may be so," said Faayka, sitting a his desk. "But tha possibility of ya challengin for my office has already settled in peoples heads. Don't forget a lot a folk don't like ta have a black face lookin down on them from city hall. They'd rather have a nice white face instead, ya know like tha type that belongs ta ya, Vilesonson or any other high profile white man in this city."
"Come on man, ya worryin too much," said Sorensen. "Who in this place can challenge ya? Answer. No one. Reason. Cause they're dead or like Vilesonson they're on ya pay roll. Anyway people don't remember anything unless ya tell em a hundred times a night. I bet they'd already forgotten about it once tha ads came on."
Faayka leapt from his seat and pounded the desk.
"Forgotten it! How can anyone do that when TodayToday is tha most popular show on TV ?"
"I,I really do think ya gettin this a little outta context," said Sorensen.
Faayka's face twitched and beads of sweat began to appear on his brow. He reached up onto a shelf over flowing with hair cosmetics and brought down a tin of spray.
"How can anything be more in context than a reporter askin ya if ya wanna be Mayor on prime time TV ?" he asked, as he sprayed and quaffed his hair. "Don't ya see Sorenson tha seeds have already been sown. Now all it needs is some one ta come along and put tha show on tha road. Then suddenly it's -let's all elect good old saint Sorensen as mayor."
"But I don't wanna be mayor!" insisted Sorensen.
"Don't give me that crap! You've always wanted ta be mayor. Ya know it and I know it."
"Yea okay we both know I had aspirations ta be mayor a decade ago. But now I just wanna lead a quiet life."
"As Mayor."
"No not as Mayor."
"So havin heard that reply, I can only assume you'll be challengin fa my office in a few weeks."
"No of course I won't be," groaned Sorenson. "Fa christsakes let's stop all this nonsense and talk about what really matters- like usin today's incident with Kasell and July ta enhance ya campaign."
"Why do ya have ta talk about it? Why can't ya just do it?"
"I am just doin it!" protested Sorensen. "I just thought ya might like ta know tha details."
"What details exactly?"
"Well like Earl Vilesonson wants ta do a special profile on Kasell. Ya know, no other guests just Kasell and Vilesonson."
Faayka looked astonished.
"An exclusive interview!"
"Yea that's right, just him, Vilesonson and millions of viewers."
"That's all very nice, but there's somethin you've over looked."
"Like what?"
"Like no one's asked me if it's okay fa this guy ta talk about July
almost bein killed by a maniac."
Sorensen looked shocked.
"I thought you'd be pleased."
"Maybe I would've been pleased if you'd got Vilesonson ta invite me on tha show as well."
"If that's what ya want. I'll call him right now."
"Of course it's what I want ya idiot. Unless ya hadn't noticed, there's an election coimin up in less than two weeks and all available t.v. space should be handed over ta me. Not some do gooder who just happens ta rescue my daughter."
"Ok, ok. I,I said I'd call him. Now Calm down and pas me tha phone."
Faayka shoved the phone at him and Sorensen dialled the number. Vilesonson answered.
"Hallo Earl. It's Sorensen here phonin about tha show."
"Don't tell me tha guy's pulled out!" moaned Vilesonson. "I got a lot of debts to pay out of this one. Do ya know how much my suntan treatment came to this month?"
"Hold on fa christsake!" shouted Sorensen. "It's nothin like that. He can't wait ta come on ya show."
"Then what's tha problem?"
"There ain't no problem. Quite tha opposite in fact."
"Opposite?"
"Yea opposite. See I managed ta get Mayor Faayka for ya as well."
"Mayor Faayka! Oh that's great! I'll send a car over ta pick him up at two tomorrow afternoon. By the way, how about having the interview around at your office?"
"Yea I like tha idea."
"Great! I think it'll give the discussion a more authentic edge. I'll arrange for some renta junkies and other low life to hang around outside your office just to make sure. I really think it'd work great if e come from the saint amongst sinners angle."
"Great idea. Look forward ta seein ya soon."
Sorensen replaced the receiver.
"Well?" said Faayka.
"Yea no problem. He's agreed ta everything."
Faayka patted sorensen on the shoulder.
"Tha ever faithful Sorensen. Always lookin after his good friend tha mayor."
Sorensen shrugged him away.
"Hey come on man give me a bit more credit. Ya may well be tha mayor but-"
Faayka raised his eyebrows.
"But what? I might not be Mayor soon?"
Sorensen retreated slightly.
"No. I, I wasn't gonna say that. You're, you're gettin too paranoid about all this re-election stuff."
Faayka cut his eyes at Sorensen.
"Let's hope it is just my paranoia ah. Because if it turns out I was right, then both of us can kiss goodbye ta buildin tha new hospital."
"Look, everything's goin fine," insisted Sorensen. "Tha journalist's been dealt with, ya re- election campaign is full steam ahead and work on tha hospital begins soon as ya make tha announcement about hirin labour."
"And do ya suppose tha other stages of tha construction process will proceed without any problems if I'm outta office?"
"But ya not gonna be outta office are ya."
"I hope ya right."
"Would I ever cheat ya?"
"Yea ya would. Now get back to ya office and make sure that boy of yours says tha right things on TodayToday. I don't want any crap comin outta his mouth. Do ya understand me!"
"Yea I understand. Tha kid'll say what he's supposed ta say and nothin else."
Faayka patted the rifle.
"Well make sure he does. Cause if there's any screw ups, it'll be ya I'll come lookin for first."
onia. "But no, he's not going to make an epidemic, well at least not yet anyway. For the time being his game is generating money and what better way to guarantee a constant flow than to control the city's health."
Harmonia's shoulders visibly drooped and Kasell saw sadness flicker in his eyes.
"Things have sure come a long way since Harmonia and Sorensen controlled the drugs scene here in Highpoint," he said shortly. "And in a way I'm partly to blame for their rise from obscurity."
"How come?"
"By building a comfortable life style for myself from the sale of my paintings instead of challenging their corruption."
"It's a bit late ta be thinkin about that now," said Kasell. "What's done is done."
Harmonia sighed.
"I suppose you're right. Mind you it still doesn't make me feel any better for being so fake at the time."
"How do ya mean fake?"
"Oh you know making all the conscious art and talking in a loud voice at dinner parties about how outrageously the poor were treated, when really I had no real interest in the welfare of other people. All I was concerned about was satisfying my own ego."
He rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Anyway I'm doing something about it now so I guess I should stop beating myself."
There was a brief silence, then Kasell said,
"All this guilt stuff is hard fa me ta understand. See when I came here ta work for Sorensen my main motivation wasn't ta save other peoples lives like I told ya before. It was ta save my own life. But I've never felt bad about it."
"Maybe you would feel differently if you could see how Faayka and Sorensen used Sorensen saints to destroy the lives of the people
here."
"And how was that?"
"By using the organisation to distribute drugs around the city."
"What kinnda drugs are ya talkin about?"
"First it was leisure drugs like heroin and crack. Then, when Faayka became president of the pharmaceutical giant, Medicon, they were replaced by a whole range of cut price cures like anti cold remedies or treatments for aids and cancer. There was no limit to the variety or quantity of drugs Faayka could produce and equally no limits to the amount of distribution outlets Sorensen could provide through branches of Sorensen Saints, which by coincidence were always located in poor areas. If you had been here twenty years ago you would have seen how Medicon's cheap drugs policy spawned a generation of genetic freaks."
"Doesn't surprise me," said Kasell. "All pharmaceutical companies are dodgy."
"And rich," added Harmonia." A fact Faayka proved beyond question once he began ploughing Medicon's enormous profits into his campaign to become mayor. During the summer months he spent a bank load of money bussing in the poor from all over the city to attend free parties in City Hall Plaza, and during the winter he distributed food and warm clothes. As you can imagine, when it came to election time he won by a landslide."
"If he's so powerful how come they need ta get tha poor on their side?"
"I guess it's just Faayka's way of making them feel as if they're important and part of something so they don't cause any problems."
"What about his pre-election promises? Did he keep any of them?"
"Surprisingly enough he did. During his first year in office he ordered the demolition of the city's slums and built the projects you now live in. At the time he insisted they were only temporary while new homes were being constructed across the river in Highpoint East. No one complained because the projects had things the slums never had like hot water, heating and all the other modern comforts. Even when the projects began to crumble and the new housing in Highpoint East was sold to private landlords, Faayka kept telling the poor their lives were booming. So they waited."
"And they're still waitin," noted Kasell.
"Yes," replied Faayka regretfully. "Except now instead of waiting for decent housing they're waiting in the queue for food stamps."
"There's no shame in that," said Kasell.
"No but there is shame in the system that forces people into this situation. Anyway that'll all change once I become mayor. I'll offer people real alternatives and give them back their respect."
"Just because ya quein fa food stamps don't mean ya ain't got respect fa yaself."
"Unfortunately Kasell not everyone thinks as you do. Most people
are sick of standing in line every week so they can be given hand- outs to feed their families. They want to be in control of their own destines. Not remain reliant on a few crumbs thrown to them by city hall."
"That's fair enough," agreed Kasell. "I can understand people
wantin ta control their own lives. But tha thing I don't understand is why people need ta feel they have ta work ta be contribution. I just don't see how workin fa peanuts in a job ya hate can be considered a contribution. Work has become life and that's dangerous."
"But in my society work wouldn't be like that," explained Harmonia.
"We'd all be striving for the common good and therefore it would be to our mutual benefit to make the workplace safe and fulfillin."
"How can workin in a mundane job ever be fulfillin?"
"In my world Kasell the mundane jobs would be done by automation as they are now. Except we'll extend the use of automated labour and leave the creative jobs to the citizens."
"But surely ya realise there's only a certain amount of creative
jobs ta go round. They'll be mass unemployment and riots in tha street within a week."
"No Kasell that's quite wrong. As I've explained to you before, people will be shown new ways to live. I'll relieve them of the drudgery of demeaning jobs so they'll be free to work for the community in worthwhile projects."
"What about those who refuse ta give up tha old ways? What will ya do with them?"
"Be patient and show understanding."
"And ya expect tha same in return yea?"
"Yes.... eventually."
"In that case ya might as well shoot yaself in tha head right now," said Kasell. "Cause that's exactly what those people who wanna live by tha old ways are gonna do if ya show them patience and understandin."
Harmonia's blue eyes suddenly sparkled with vexation and he leaned towards Kasell menacingly.
"Why do you always have to dismiss everything as unachievable?"
"I don't," replied Kasell. "I just see things differently ta you that's all."
There was an uneasy silence for a few minutes then Kasell said,
"Look man I don't wanna spoil ya party, but I really believe tha situation in this place is irretrievable."
"But you only think like that because society has told you it's futile ta mount a challenge against it's authority," declared Harmonia.
"I know that stuff," said Kasell. "But like I've said ta ya before, I just can't get emotional about peoples sufferin cause most of tha time it's all self inflicted.
Kasell frowned and rubbed his head.
"Anyway like we keep sayin. We've been over this before and got no where."
Harmonia felt his anger subside and warm glow amplify inside him as he regarded the younger man sitting opposite.
A lot of his ways remind me of my own youth he thought, so I shouldn't be too quick to judge his attitude. Anyway having him around with his burnt out ideals, makes me even more determined ta become Mayor of this city.
For the rest of the evening Kasell listened to Harmonia's plan to de- throne Faayka. He spoke of free medical treatment, new schools, better housing and a multitude of other changes he planned to implement if elected. Kasell wanted to tell him it was going to happen just the way he saw it in his head. But knew he could not lie. Besides Harmonia had convinced himself his destiny was to become mayor of Golden city and Kasell saw no reason to try and make him see otherwise.
I can't help him he thought, just like he can't help me. Everyone has ta go their own way, except in Harmonia's case his way's gonna end in disappointment and maybe a bullet in tha back.

SORENSEN DREMAING OF POWER

From a suite at the Hotel Grande, Sorenesen watched the commuters rushing towards varuios subways. Look at them thought Sorensen contempuously, jumped up little weaklings who shit their pants over nothin. He lit a cigar and poured himself a double whiskey. But why should I complain, they're exactly the kind of people I need to get me the mayorship of this city. If they were strong and intelligent I'd have no chance-but thankfully they ani'nt either. They need ta see a white man up their on the pedestal instead of this endless procession of nigger faces term after term. He puffed on the cigar and looked at himself in the mirror. Yes, the mayor's chain will fall nicely across y shoulders he thought as he starred at his reflection.

"Good morning Mr Mayor. Please let me show you and your lovely wife to your table. It's the president for you Mister Mayor....... The helicopter has arrived to take you to your private jet Mister Mayor......The president asks if you can make golf tomorrow?

Sorensen turned away from the mirror and continued to look ut into the street. Yes I could get used to bein Mayor pre...tty quickly.

I can't really beleave that this oppurtunity has come my way after all these years. Jesus I'll be 52 next year! So I suppose it's come at a good time. For all I know I could be dead within five unless I lay off the whiskey. Five years? Not that long really. Not that I'm worried about it. Wether it's five years or five minutes I intend to enjoy myself. He gulped bac the whiskey and refilled the glass. I have these white fools right where I want them.

Yes I have verything I need to secure me a place in thier affections. All I have ta do is slot them inta place. This Kasell guy is a great asset ta ma campaign. He's makin me look real compassionate. Especially amongst the black voters. Just think I'll have all them lovely black hands scrawlin an x next ta my name on tha ballot paper-that's ironic isn't it that they should have to use an x ta vote for a white man like me. Ah well tha world's fulla ironies so I ain't gonna worry myself about that.

He picke up the tv remote and flicked on a channel. He searched through the chanels, then tunred the tv off. Tv's fa morons I got better things ta do with my time than sit around, drinkin beer and watchin a load of arseholes makin fools of themselves. I'd rather be outside in some tropical parasdise watchin tha real life areseholes makin fools of themselves. He stubbed out the cigar and reclined in a well cushioned velvet chair. One thing I promise myself is to put Harmonia and Faayka in a box before I depart from this planet. The pricks won't think they're so smart when his arses are cold on the mortuary slab. Obviously I can't shoot him- that'd be to blatant- or even havin him shot is outta tha questin. In no time at all my past would be dragged up and al the stuff about Pristil will come out and ..... Ah it doesn't bare thinkin about until I'm mayor- then maybe I can devise some kinda accident.

What a god send this Kaseel is. He's a fuckin natural. I've never in all my years in this bussines known of a guy who brings down so many terminators. He's my tickect to tha office. Jesus the guy's a fuckin suerstar and he's only ben in town for a month! This boy is gonna make me rich and famous. For the moment Faayka calls the swing- but if there's one thing you can be certain of in this world and it's that if I want somethin I'll get it. In this world you have ta save yaself- no one else counts. I don't care about the voters wholesale. I don't care if they're black, white, red, green or blue, as long as they're put their votin card in my ballot box, that's all that counts to me.

Though lately I don't even care about seein them. In the beginning I was full of enthusuism for the job- now it's just another part of life to get through. I was keen to save the unsavable - now I'm only keen to save myself. I'm indifferent to the suffering and the joy around me. I thought I had elevated myself to a position where I can see the whole view- but all I see is .... what do I see- can I really see anythign at all- other than the end of my own nose?

Kasell gazed out of the window and looked at the braches of the old plaine tree swaying in the wind. The day was cold and a damp, grey sky hung sluglisly over the glass and chrome office towers of (forming the urban horizon.)

What's gonin ta happen taday? Perhaps I'll get lucky and save a miillionares daughter or mother or somethin. More likely to meet a middle mamger with a huge mortgage and an unloving wife and family and surly ungreatful boss. He smoked a ciggerette and pulled on his clothes. The street was unusually empty and a cold, damp fog made it impossible to see more than five feet in front of his face.

Drifting in and out of consciuosness. Well at least that's what I think I'm doin- the gap between them is so unclear- everything is just one big blur. I sit here stunned, starring inot space , my body motionless- whilst inside my skull fireworks explode. Am I dead o am I alive? I don't know anymore - all I know is I exist in a state of limbo.

Forever marooned. For ever cast away - though I'm not complainin I really couldn't imagine it being any other way. The wind is blwoing outside. It's begining to feel cold. These dark winter nights are so empty. The air is cold and what ever I try to do I can't keep warm.

My head is empty -nothin there , no enthusiam or spark - just a flickering thoughts and a mind turned down to zero. He lay next to me and looked across at me. Please help me he said. Please help me. But I couldn't help him, all I could do wwas stare into the distance and wonder how we had come to be at this point in time. Had evolution really demanded such a high price from us for the oppurtunity to rule the planet withut competiton? What do we rule though- a damp cater of mud? a trench choacked with corpses? Whatever it is I don't undersand it.I realise the poit of it all is to keep a few in safe luxury, but why am I here- I'm here because I would have been shoot if I'd refused to join the war. Shot ! What a joke- at least you know when the bullets comin. Here you never know. You see your comrades fall, you hear them scream. You see the body bags- then it's home to small children waving plastic flags and beyond them the women we had left behind. The band played a rousing version of welcome hme to freedom and the city administrators and generals applauded vigourously. Medals were presented and backs slapped.

Then one by one we began to cough and splutter and the psoion

EARL VILESONSON.

Earl Vilesonson sat at a table in his portable resturant and sipped chilled wine. Spread acros the table in front of him was a lavish three course meal, but it had remained untouched. I'm just not hungry he thought. He opened a small silver box, brought out a poliished gold spoon and loaded it with cocaine. He sniffed the white powder through alternate nostrils and closed his eyes as the rush seized his mind.

He lit a ciggeete and inhaled deeply. He refilled the spoon, this time with bigger, fatter rocks and proceded to fill his nostrils, until he was satiated by wired joy.

If only I could put Faayka in a spoon and make him vanish as rapidly as the coke, he thought rgrettfully as he cast his eye over the dwindling rocks.

He sipped some more wine and smoothed down his moustache. Now that this Kasell guy has turned up on the scence I can use him for my own advantage. He's exactly what I need to win the affections of those white losers, who need to see a white face up there in city hall to feel secure. But how best to utilize Kasell?

He clapped his hands insightfully.

Of course! It's so bloody obviuos. I use him as the classic white hero, saving disatourous black lives. Yes I can see the pictures now as Kasell waves his wand and sprinkles a little white magic over the lives of those poor, crime ridden black folk. This is apparent favortism is bound to infuriate, the white peasnts over there in Glade Avenue. They'll look round at thier meaninglless lot and want to know why they don't receive the same help as the ethnic population. At that point I'll step in as their champion and paint them a picture of a magnificent destiny, where they will not want for anything. More importantly though, the rich whites, and no doubt many of the rich blacks luxuriating in Highpoint will be

He lauged. Okay it's a bit over the top, but I'm sure a little drama won't do my ambition to become Mayor of Golden city any harm.

He opened the shutter and looked out at the film crew busying themselves around Sorensen's office. For years I've had the resources to challenge for the mayorship, but lacked the reason. Now with this Kasell on the scence I have the reason. He closed the shutter and snorted a couple of lines of coke. In the meantime I have to be patient. The frustration of holding all the media cards in Golden city without a reason to play them is finally over. Now I have a reason to challeng Faayka and I'll broadcast this notice once all this stuff about his daughter is forgotten. It would be a foolish mistake to make m move now that, for the moment Faayka has a reat deal of public sympathy, because of the incident with his daughter. I

Faaayka AND SORENSEN AFTER KASELL RESCUE S GIRL. The rich and powerful in this city are gettin a little too comfortable for my liking. They have too much secutirty, too much central heatin and too much cosey dinner parties.

He saw some youths fooling around at the edge of the park and saw himself ten years previuos. Look at them, are they doin anythin wrong? Are they threatenin anybody? No of course they're not. Sure they cuss and they snarl- but so what? Is this somethin new-didn't this happen ta everybody at one point, well every male anyway. It makes me laugh how so many people play tha teenager role for a few years, until they're told ta do somethin else.

LI