Free Toxicity by Andy Remic Page A

in hand. Plant charges.
     
    Swiftly, they moved through the
gloom of the Reprocessing Plant. Reaching several camera points they followed
the same slick routine: Jenny would halt, Sick Note would come forward, and
release his tiny silver worm, which would crawl its way up the wall, enter the
camera and destroy its internal digital structure. One by one the cameras were
shut down, and Sick Note grinned his sick grin. “No challenge for this
technological master,” he muttered, and winked at Jen. She patted his arm and
they continued through the gloom.
     
    Randy had been right. Skeleton
night staff. But then, that’s what they’d expected. What they’d seen during the
days and weeks of monitoring. The Greenstar Company were methodical and
predictable, if nothing else.
     
    They reached a large chamber
filled with bubbling vats of blue tox. They paused for a while, surveying the
area, watching, waiting. A worker passed to their right and they let him go,
hearts hard. They didn’t want to kill people. But if they had to, they had to.
These people were torturing the planet. These people were killing Jenny’s
world...
     
    “Look at the stars, little lady.
Look how they sparkle! How they light up the night sky!”
     
    She stood with Old Tom, her dad,
her father, her love, her hero, the Biggest Man in the World, the Greatest Man
in the Galaxy, on top of the hill. Ice was under their boots, a wind snapping
at them like wolf jaws; but she was snuggled and warm inside her fleece and
hats and scarf and gloves and boots... and snuggled up to him, with his huge
arm around her shoulders, holding her tight, protecting her. But more, she was
warm inside. Warm like honey. Warm like angels. She was with her dad. And his
love and strength were bright, real things.
     
    “Aren’t they tiny?” she said.
     
    “No, they are massive, so big
they would swallow our whole world if they wanted to.”
     
    “Wow. Is that true, daddy? Really
true?”
     
    “As true as their beauty. Look
out, Jenny. Look out on our planet, our world, our incredible, fabulous planet.
Amaranth. Deep in the heart of the Zynaps System. Wonderful, and fabulous, a
million years of history deep under our very boots.”
     
    “It’s so beautiful, daddy. I love
the world. And I love you.”
     
    He gazed down into her big baby
blue eyes, and ruffled her hair through her thick bobble hat. “I love you too,
munchkin. Love you till the stars go out.”
     
    A month later, Greenstar bought
the planet and signed the paperwork. The Company made their signed-in-blood
agreements with corrupt Quad-Gal politicians, and the Titan-Class Space
Freighters moved in. Orbiting Dump Pipes were set in place; vast, armoured,
mech-laser-protected itanio tubes which freighters could lock to above orbit
and dump trillions of litres of crap to the surface through without having to
land. Of course, the global population of Amaranth were offered generous
payouts to pack up and ship out. Whole villages and towns, even cities, were
abandoned overnight. Bus Shuttles shuttled millions from the condemned planet’s
surface. But, as was human nature, millions more chose to stay. This was
their planet. Their world. Their home. Their history. Their soul.
     
    Old Tom chose to stay. Three
months later, his wife, Jenny’s mother, had died from a rare allergic reaction
to some of the new pollutants introduced to Amaranth - now being commonly
touted by the media as Toxic City, or simply Toxicity. Oh, how The
Daily Shite mocked and harangued those people who chose to stay. Funny
cartoons depicted the remaining populace growing three heads and extra legs,
and spouting comedy penis growths and jocular new diseases. They laughed and
laughed and laughed. The day of Jenny’s mother’s funeral, Old Tom started to
drink real bad. And he never stopped.
     
    The Daily Shite ran comedy
sketches, columns, cartoons and features... right up to the day when Jenny and
three newly recruited Impurity Movement