Free Beaver2416 (Reviler's Affray) by Jeremy M. Thayer Page A

Beaver’s.
    “It’s about that time …” Timmy said with a frown, “Hopefully, I won’t have any trouble out of them .” Beaver knew the “ them” that Tim was referring to. It was the bumbling crew of witless degenerates that he supervised.
    “Yes … hopefully so.” Beaver softly told as the transport warbled to a stop.
    Timmy slowly rose and stepped on to the trackstreet below. “Well … I’ll see you later.” he said with a raised hand.
    Beaver equally raised his in salutation. “ See you …”
    As the transport began to pull away, something made Beaver feel a bit uneasy. He had this feeling every time, as he departed each light. He would usually dismiss it as the Granfibrous that he had for lightfast. However, today seemed a little more distressing than usual … why he really didn’t know.
    The moments ticked by and in a seeming instant, Beaver could see the Perpetua Motors building in the distance. The transport warbled to a stop as the robotic voice emitted “Last stop--Bona Fide. Please exit promptly.” This was always the last stop before the transport would follow a roundabout, and go back to the underground parkstop in Westbrook. The area was named such an ancient legal term, because not far from Perpetua was the Catholic Parliament and all its sadistic glory. Beaver hated the place with a passion. Because, no matter the crime (or lack thereof) entry into its halls; always meant the macabre for some downtrodden soul.
    The Screen could be seen clearly just beyond the Perpetua motors building, because this was literally the West end of New Judah. Beaver would use it frequently to his advantage by throwing people into it, which were not meeting work demands. It would give them a good dramatic jolt, but Beaver knew that it was relatively harmless. It made him sick inside how the Elites would laugh and mock the people, every time he would give them a toss into the screen. They thought it was hilarious; a cause for hand clapping and smiles. However, his sociopathy prevented him from showing any sort of outward disgust. Usually, this would satisfy the Elites enough that they would pass on to other matters. But sometimes, just an Elite’s bad mood or a glimmer of something they didn’t really like, would cause them to be maimed by an android, or tried at Parliament against the Edict. No matter the trial, they would always lose and with it … their lives .
    “ Goodlight to you Beaver2416 … may the blessings of the Great Master be upon you as you enter ,” the electron-door greeter said as Beaver passed the large, open threshold entering into the offices of Perpetua. Due to Beaver’s status as a Hachiman, he was authorized to use the Elite’s entrance, as opposed to the grimy turnstile that all of the common workers used.  The offices of Perpetua, with its rare marble columns, spiral Lev-cases, ancient architraves, and other saph-glas protected antiquities; reeked of affluence and arrogant high-society. Beaver always hated walking past all of the Elites and listening to their pandering about haughty, high-minded things. He had to though, because his small crag of an office was in the back. Usually, Beaver was not acknowledged with as so much as a wink, as he walked passed their rows of luxury and stuck-up opulence. However, sometimes there would be an occasional salutation, followed by “I need you to…” This light was of no exception.
    “Beaver2416 … Yoo Hoo !” one of the older Elites said with an outstretched hand, waving frantically.
    Deep down, he wanted to break every finger; but Beaver held his peace of course.
    “ Yes sir …” Beaver said, as he turned to walk towards the voice. It was one of Mercurial’s advisors, standing with a group of foppish do-nothings.
    “Yes-- Beaver2416 I need you to come to the Overlord’s office at around-- say 13:15. We want to meet with you about some upcoming promotions …” The advisor said with a delicate ease.
    “Yes … of course sir.