2431

"Read me the time, Mimi" I asked my android who rolled along my side through the moss covered alley.

"4:58 am, Friday, March 8, 2431" said Mimi as it rolled further, projecting the details in the air.

"It's 5 already? Come on, we have to hurry before the Agency officers start rounds."

Hello. I am Sun. I am a scavenger, like most people. The only difference is, I'm good at my job. We scavengers live at a small campsite around the South borders, there are around 87 of us. We were 200 before the Agency started picking us up, but building Mimi helped me keep track of the Agency's patrol so unlike most others of the camp, I'm able to get around better, without getting caught, without being zapped in for the Rebuilding Project.

The key to a good hunt is to get out in the early hours. The ration trucks start out from the factories situated in the Eastern borders around 6 am every day. These areas, being away from the militaries and the Main Town, receive the least surveillance from the Agency. Still, one can never be too careful. The way from the campsite to the East borders is a long one, and covered in what I imagine used to be a typical city from centuries ago - now a moss jungle with vines on every possible surface. The only reason I have fingerless gloves is to hold my guns properly, otherwise touching anything with bare hands is inviting infection - and due to the lack of any medical facilities outside of the Main Town - it is like inviting death.

Mimi and I sprint further along. Mimi suggested a different route to the factories today where we could explore supplies. Sometimes, remainders of small shops from the Pre-Agency era have useful things. Wires, switch boards, plastics and sometimes even surviving trinkets that I can take home for Nori.

Mimi rolls her head to look at me. "I sense something under the vines. I think you can build me a hand from the supplies here."

I chuckle. Mimi thinks it will be revolutionary if she got hands. She would be able to explore the jungles with me. And I kind of agree.

"Alright, keep your sensors on. And let's make this quick if we are to make it to the food trucks." I point my gun and flashlight forward and inch closer to where Mimi pointed.

Once we reach the cracked glass doors, I hang my gun to my side and wear my hunt gloves. Then I jam my gun through the vines and doors to make room to enter. By now, the sun has started to come up, and the hurry in my head expedites. I look around, trying to find switchboards. What they call the Final War of Humanity melted away most of everything, but once in a while, in small corners, you can still find current.

"Bingo!" I exclaim as I find a strange contraption wired to a board in the wall. The label read 'True Beauty Hair Straightener'. Hair _straightener_? What a strange thing to invent. Imagine if Pre Agency humans used their brains for better inventions. Maybe this place wouldn't be green and pukish. Maybe they would still have real vegetables and not the factory-made ones. Would the scavengers exist? I push the thoughts aside and turn the switch on, hoping there would be some current here. In a minute, the _straightener_ heats up. Amusing. Maybe it is useful after all. I take the wires and plugs apart and collect all the parts.

"I might need more space to carry this, or I won't be able to steal food. Mimi, do you see something?"

"Yes, Sun. Here." I go to where Mimi's at and see an old dusty suitcase under a half-broken desk. I struggle but manage to wriggle it open. The inside is surprisingly clean and filled with neatly cut paper and a small black notebook. I take out one of the sheets and read.

'One hundred dollars. The United States of America' There seemed to be 10 bundles of 20 notes each. So 20,000 _dollars_. I couldn't tell if it was a big sum.

"Money" says Mimi.

"What's money?"

"Currency of the Pre Agency era. They could earn it by working and trade it for food and supplies."

"Sounds convenient." I wondered how a world like that would've been. I could trade this money for anything in the world; I could buy medicines, better food, sanitisers, perhaps? Life must have been so peaceful.

I open the notebook beside it.

_Here is the advance money you asked for. I want the President killed by Monday. Once I take over the company, you can expect better compensation for your efforts._

Along with the text was the picture of a woman, who looked around 40 years old. More than what most people here lived to be.

"Mimi, they killed people for this money."

Mimi rolled her head up and looked at me.

The thought of killing someone for this seemed unimaginable. Even the Agency, which is notorious for capturing scavengers for the Rebuilding Project, had never killed anyone. And we despised the agency. I had always imagined the Pre Agency era to be like a paradise free from evil, where families could live happily together for years and years. I clench the notebook and remember my mother's death. How she died weak and without the means to get back healthy. I tear the used pages off the notebook and keep it in my sack.

Then I proceed to empty the suitcase on the moldy floor. I put the _straightener_ and other supplies in it before cleaning it around the edges.

"Let's go, Mimi. It's almost time for the food trucks to come out." I say as I walk right over the mess of money on the floor and out the broken glass door with my gun pointing forward and my flashlight tucked to my belt. Mimi rolls forward from behind me and says, "walk 800 meters straight ahead and then turn left."