The Heartbreak Locket

Shifty was proud of her name. No one else shifted as much garbage a day as she did and no one else had so nice things to sell quite like her. Then, when the deals went wrong, and they often did, no one disappeared as quickly as she could.

As soon as she saw the bags, she knew that today was her day. The ones living on the top, the fancy folks, ate the best food and wore dresses so beautiful she barely dared to touch them. Their garbage was full of… things… which, for her kind, were treasures.

But the middle ones knew that too. They caught the bags falling down, put them in their machines, and made other things from them. Shifty didn’t like the middle ones, no sir, not one bit. But sometimes, on some days, on days like today, the middle ones couldn’t catch all of the bags, and they fell down to the bottom. Which was where Shifty ruled.

Even the trash bags were fancy. They were made of a see-through material, one that Shifty didn’t know the name of, and they hugged the garbage closely, so closely that there was no opening on them, and when she cut them with her shifting knife, they sucked the air in with a long hiss.

With quick movements, he put all the special bags in a line, and started working on them. Jab, hiss, cut. Rummage, rummage. Need pile and leave pile. Should someone from the middle ones saw her, they would have likened her to their factory robots, working away mindlessly and tirelessly. But she didn’t know that. She just liked to work.

What was that? A glint at the bottom of a bag, something that wasn’t food nor a dress. A little thing, tiny, weirdly shaped. As she grabbed it, for a second it felt cold, like her knife. It must have been made of iron, but she never saw iron so shiny and yellow. One part of it looked like the chains used in the butchery, but it was thin, the links small as a flea. She knew it couldn’t have lifted even a rat. The other part that both ends of the chain connected to was rounder, smooth, strangely shaped. Heavy too, much heavier than she thought it should be. Even without understanding what it was, the garbage rat knew that she found something much more valuable than food or clothes. She also knew exactly what to do with it.

Bordeaux was proud of his shop. After his injury, he had to leave the factory level, and move down here, but gritting his teeth and using every bit of knowledge he had, he built something for himself. Everyone around knew his shop, and he had a reputation of selling the best quality only.

As soon as he saw Shifty enter, he knew that today was his day. She was his best harvester, and she had no idea how cheap she sold her stuff to him. She didn’t have a big bag with her today, which meant that she found something special.

Turning the side around, he led her to the worktop, and motioned her to present her findings. Grabbing something from her clothes, the wrapped, dirty hands placed a single, tiny thing on the table.

A garbage rat, a struggling merchant, and a golden locket. For a second everything was motionless, her eyes on him, his eyes on the prize, his hands under the table… grabbing a gun and shooting her in the chest.

This was his ticket back! He knew that if he could sell this, he could buy the operation and go back to work, eating good food and sleeping well every day.

Anglo was proud of his job. Keeping the rabble down where they belonged and protecting everyone above was something he enjoyed doing. The occasional side hustle was also great.

As soon as he saw Bordeaux closing the shop early and starting to walk towards the lifts, he knew today was his day. He knew exactly what Bordeaux was planning, and he knew that he must have something special on him. Following him from a short distance, he saw as the other man entered an alley. With a wide grin, he ran after him.

“Halt! Show me your hands!”

Bordeaux stopped and turned around, hands held away from his body, palms empty. The expression on his face was a mixture of terror and resignation, knowing fully well what was about to happen.

“What is in your pocket?”

A hand, moving slowly and carefully, entered the pocket, and returned, raising the golden locket. For a second, everything was motionless. The policeman, the fence, and in the middle, a precious necklace. Bordeaux didn’t see the shotgun raising or the flash, he was dead before the events could have registered, his hope falling from his hand to the cobblestone.

After quickly checking the corpse for money or other valuables, Anglo went to collect the gold. He was a content man, without big dreams, and he knew it would buy him beer for a year to come. Bending down, he saw a dirty, thin hand moving towards his prize. The hand continued in a thin arm, connected to the malformed body of a street urchin.

He probably thought it was his day, but Anglo thought differently, and he had a shotgun. Soon, two corpses were cooling slowly in the alley, and Anglo was walking towards the lifts, whistling.

Joan was proud of her record. No other agents closed as many cases successfully as she did. She could even do her job down here, between the animals who ate trash and wore garbage.

As soon as she spotted the policeman following the other man into the alley, she knew it was her day. This was unusual, and the unusual created opportunity.Shadowing them both, she observed the robbery and the double homicide, but most importantly, she saw the object she wanted to locate. Staying hidden, she waited for the policeman to pass, then with a practiced movement, she placed a hand on his mouth and cut his throat with her other hand. There was no moment of silence; agents could not waste precious time.

Grabbing the locket, she secured it inside her chameleon armor, and tapped her communicator.

“Yes, Joan?”

“Ma’am, I’ve secured the item. I will return to the surface at once.”

“Excellent, great job, as always. The locket is not very important, but my daughter deeply loves it, and she was extremely sad last night. Upon your return, please leave it with the butler. After that you can retire to your quarters. You get the rest of the day off.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Janet disconnected the call, and looked around in the park with a beautiful, victorious smile. She was proud of her life. Every day was her day.