Barge & Lauren - Ch 1 - A New Beginning

The iron gates groaned open, revealing a dusty road flanked by overgrown weeds. Beyond it stretched an endless horizon of sleek, shimmering skyscrapers, their metallic surfaces reflecting a blinding midday sun. A sleek delivery drone zipped overhead, whirring like a giant mechanical mosquito.

Standing at the threshold of their prison, Barge Greene and Lauren Bobbin squinted against the light. Their clothes hung awkwardly on them—cheap synthetic suits provided by the prison commissary, designed for a time when shoulder pads were in style. Both clutched small duffel bags containing their meager possessions: a few government-issued credits on a chipped plastic card, a map of the city (printed, inexplicably, on paper), and outdated flip phones that were supposed to help them “reintegrate.”

“So... this is it,” Lauren muttered, craning her neck to take in the glittering skyline. “Twenty-five years, and they just dump us out here like yesterday’s trash.”

Barge adjusted his ill-fitting blazer and sniffed. “Better than staying in there,” he grumbled, jerking his thumb toward the gray walls behind them. “What do they expect us to do? Just pick up where we left off? The world’s gone all... shiny.”

Lauren snorted. “Yeah, shiny. And no one’s gonna care about two old relics like us.”

“Speak for yourself,” Barge said, puffing out his chest. “I’m still a patriot. People will remember me. I bet the public’s been waiting for our release—news crews, protestors, maybe even a few supporters...”

Lauren gave him a sideways glance. “There’s no one here, Barge. Not even a taxi.”

He frowned, surveying the empty road. “Well... maybe they’re running late.”

A Different World

The first hour of their freedom was an exercise in futility. Their map, designed for a city that no longer existed, was useless. Streets had been replaced by hovering walkways and multilayered transit hubs. When Lauren tried to use her flip phone to call the “Reintegration Office,” the device displayed nothing but a cheerful cartoon emoji sticking out its tongue before dying altogether.

“Stupid thing,” she muttered, shaking it furiously.

Barge squinted at a passing pedestrian, a young man wearing sleek augmented reality glasses. The man was muttering to himself, gesturing at invisible things in the air.

“Hey! Hey, kid!” Barge called out. “Can you point us to the... uh, Integration Bureau?”

The man didn’t even glance at them, continuing his one-sided conversation with whatever digital phantom occupied his AR glasses.

Lauren groaned. “Great. Everyone’s gone insane. They’re all talking to themselves now.”

Barge crossed his arms. “This is why society’s gone to hell. Back in my day, we didn’t need all this fancy tech. We talked to people—real people!”

“Yeah, Barge. And look where that got us,” Lauren said dryly.

Their next attempt at navigation was a public kiosk—an imposing black pillar topped with a glowing screen. A friendly digital face blinked into view as they approached.

“Greetings! How may I assist you today?” the kiosk chirped.

Lauren hesitated, then leaned in. “Uh... we’re looking for the Reintegration Bureau. We just got out of prison.”

The digital face frowned, its smile dimming slightly. “I’m sorry. Your request cannot be processed without a verified identity profile. Please scan your neural implant.”

“Neural what-now?” Barge asked, glaring at the screen.

“Your neural implant,” the kiosk repeated. “For identification purposes. All citizens are required to have one under Federal Directive 84-B. If you do not possess an implant, please visit your local Registration Center.”

Lauren threw up her hands. “We just got out of jail! We don’t have implants!”

The kiosk blinked. “I’m sorry. Your request cannot be processed. Have a wonderful day!”

“Stupid machine!” Barge roared, smacking the side of the kiosk. It promptly powered down with an indignant beep.

Lauren sighed. “We’re doomed.”

The Threat of FS-6

After hours of wandering, they found themselves in a seedy part of the city, where the gleaming skyscrapers gave way to crumbling buildings and flickering neon signs. The only people here were other misfits—scruffy and disheveled, their eyes darting nervously as they moved through the shadows.

Barge and Lauren ducked into a rundown café, collapsing into a booth near the back. A weary-looking waitress approached, her uniform patched with duct tape.

“What’ll it be?” she asked, not bothering to make eye contact.

“Coffee,” Barge grunted.

“Coffee,” Lauren echoed.

The waitress sighed. “This ain’t a coffee place. We got SoyCaf. And water.”

“Water, then,” Lauren said, rolling her eyes.

When the waitress shuffled off, Lauren leaned in toward Barge. “This is bad, Barge. Real bad. If we don’t figure out how to adapt, they’re gonna ship us straight to FS-6.”

Barge scoffed. “They can’t do that. FS-6 is for criminals, not upstanding citizens like us.”

“Upstanding citizens?” Lauren snorted. “We were in prison for 25 years, Barge. And from what I’ve heard, FS-6 isn’t even a prison anymore. It’s a whole damn country.”

Barge frowned. “Country? What kind of country?”

“The kind where they send people who can’t keep up,” Lauren muttered. “You can’t fit in out here? They toss you into FS-6 and wash their hands of you. No implants, no jobs, no credit—you’re as good as gone.”

The thought made Barge uneasy, though he’d never admit it. The idea of being abandoned in some lawless wasteland didn’t sit right with him. But what choice did they have?

Their drinks arrived—cloudy glasses of lukewarm water—and Barge stared at his reflection in the glass. “This world doesn’t want us,” he muttered.

Lauren sipped her water, grimacing. “Yeah. But maybe... just maybe, FS-6 does.”

Barge blinked at her. “What are you saying? You want to go there?”

Lauren shrugged. “If we can’t fit in here, we might have a better shot in a place that doesn’t care about rules. People like us, Barge—we don’t belong in this shiny, digital world. Maybe FS-6 is exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

Barge shook his head. “No. We’re not giving up. We’re gonna fight this system, prove we can still make it. We’re not just gonna fade away.”

Lauren didn’t look convinced, but she let it go.

For now.