Sins Loom: The Unwilling Weaver

Tiny, almost unrealistically perfect clouds drifted through the skies of Sloth City. Starting from the minds of each living soul, they climbed higher and higher, rising high above the city, coming together into one giant cloud.

A small girl was sleeping atop the soft, silky clouds. Wrapped snugly in her favourite hooded blanket, she yawned and rolled over from one side to the other.

~

Squatting on the neon filled streets of Neo Athens, Ed woke up with a stinging headache. I really need to find a better way to spend my nights.

Brushing off the dust on his old, ratty leather coat, he noticed a fresh hole in it. Damn. How much do I have left? Rummaging through his pockets, he found a few loose chips he had won from last night’s bet. Can I afford it?

A staticky blue screen fizzled up in front of his eyes, displaying a large, bright red sentence; Two thousand credits to be returned to your debtor by midnight. Below that was a progress bar displaying the total amount of the loan he had paid back, which sat at a hundred thousand out of two million.

Nevermind, the coat can wait. The screen fizzled out of existence, making him feel nauseous and dizzy. I’m starting to think this wasn’t worth it.

Ed had long been dreaming of getting cybernetic enhancements since he was young, but he was never able to afford even the most minor of surgeries. He was convinced that if he was enhanced just like those that lived above, that he would be able to prove his worth and earn more money than one could dream of.

He scoured high and low in the rundown lower city for places that would be willing to perform surgery on a minor who couldn’t afford to pay upfront. Getting turned down at every establishment, reputable or not.

His efforts weren’t completely wasted, however. He ended up meeting a lot of people who were perfectly fine with putting the teenager to work. He ran odd jobs for people, namely deliveries, and amassed a small fortune.

One day, when he was sixteen, he did a series of jobs for this one client, a rather portly middle-aged man people called Mr Dimarco, who always treated him quite well. The man seemed rather interested in his story, and asked him why he was working so hard. Figuring that it wasn’t too big of a secret, and that most people probably already knew, he told him.

A few days passed without Ed hearing back from Mr Dimarco, but he was used to there being long periods between jobs from him. By the time he heard back from the man, he had completely forgotten about their conversation.

Mr Dimarco invited him over for breakfast, so Ed assumed that he had a rather big job coming his way. Excited by the prospect, he showed up and was gobsmacked when he arrived at the given address.

Previously, he had always met Dimarco in dimly lit clubs and bars, or had received his jobs through Dimarco’s underlings. He knew that he was a man of importance, but he had no idea just how wealthy he was.

The place was secluded and out of the way, looking down on the rest of the lower city and stretching infinitely close to the cities above. It was by far the largest place Ed had ever seen. He has his own driveway!

Dimarco’s mansion was probably large enough for hundreds of families to live in happily. Led to the dining room by a servant, he found Dimarco sitting at the head of a long real wood table.

Dimarco was balding, but what he lacked in hair on the top of his head, he more than made up for with his thick moustache. He wore a red silk shirt with the top few buttons undone, showing a forest of chest hair. A large gold chain necklace sat on his large chest, and he had a fancy gold watch on his wrist.

A young servant with shoulder length fluffy blond hair wearing a tightly fitted suit was at his side, helping Dimarco with his breakfast.

Dimarco smiled when he saw Ed enter the room, his golden tooth glinting under the light.

That was where Mr Dimarco offered to pay for Ed’s implants. And like the naive and foolish young man that he was, Ed agreed without a second thought, signing the contract then and there without even bothering to read it.

That was probably the dumbest decision he had ever made in his life. Even now, four years later, he had barely managed to pay off a fraction of the debt. The only good thing about this was that Mr Dimarco didn’t seem to be in a rush to get his money back.

And all of this just for a shitty brain chip that barely functioned on a good day, and some overpriced thrusters in his legs .

DING DONG.

Entering a secluded little coffee shop, he looked at the menu for the cheapest thing he could have for breakfast. Rubbing his face, he walked up to the barista. “One small coffee and a sandwich please.”

Tapping away on the screen, she entered his order in then looked up at him with an obviously fake smile. “That’ll be thirty credits please.”

Thirty! This is ridiculous. Grumbling, he pulled out one of the chips from his pocket and flicked it onto the counter. He eyed the girl carefully as she got him his change, making sure she didn’t short him.

Getting the change back from her, he counted it in front of her while maintaining eye contact. Seventy, good. Putting the cash away, he walked off to the side to wait for his order, much to the relief of the young barista.

How am I gonna get another eighteen hundred by the end of the day? Hopefully there’ll be some big jobs, or I’ll have to skip dinner.

Ding!

“Your food’s ready sir. The coffee will just be a minute.”