The Story of Suff Kovalevski

[Suff]

Chapter one: Ration Tables
C19: D:7

Two months prior to standard relocation to C8.

I begin what seems only to be a long tiresome walk through the workforce facility. I lower my vision to my feet; allowing relief to the lower part of my neck.  My posture is weak, each step is almost entirely filled with pain. My shoulders are gnaw with ache from pulling downward on the line press. My shift ended just moments ago, or-.. Correction;  Our shift. Everybody employed in the facility has the same assigned shift. I was assigned to WHUB-34F, or just 34F for short. 34F is a two-hundred worker count facility, there are many facilities that citizens are assigned too whiten the city. It's located in our agreement to the Civil Authorities' Code Of Citizenship that each and every citizen under the Universal Union are to perform no less than twelve hours of employed service each day.  It was earthier agree or be labeled a non-citizen and killed.. As I slowly near the exit, the PA system switches on, a short statical discharge emits from the old speaker, followed by the often occurring  female voice. "Workforce notice: Facility production output Ratio to facility quota is.. fifteen shortage. Ration supplemential content reduced from 3MG.. To.. 2MG. "  I come to a short pause, feeling a slight rush to my stomach as I allow the words to sink in. “Fifteen units short?” It has been increasing during the last two weeks, if it keeps rising like this then our facility will undergo another inspection; our last inspection was only three months ago. Facility inspections allow the Combine to inspect the workers and relocate our elderly and our unhealthy to a different sector of the grid. Our last inspection was horrible, sixty-three citizens were relocated to only her Majesty knows where, the rest of us had to endure a beating most terrible.


As I approach the exit, Jamey flanks my right side, stepping in front of me as he attempts to catch my attention. Jamey's brown loafers come into view, startling me as I focus my attention upward, my gaze meeting his face, ''Er- Afternoon, Jamey.'' Jamey shoots me a puzzled look, folding his arms in front of his chest, ''Did.. I startle you?" Jamey asks. "No.. No- Not really, is their something I can assist you with?" I reply, folding my hands behind my back as I fix my posture. "The rations.. Are they seriously reducing them again?'' asks Jamey, forming a young worried expression, almost similar to that of a child. "I'm afraid so.. But- It.. Isn't all that bad', perhaps a glimmer of hope will shine--" I reply, placing my left hand over his shoulder as I attempt to reassure him, cut off in mid-sentence. "I knew it.. I knew it! First the rations, then the inspections, and finally the relocation's.. Yep- I'm a goner, I just know it!  They keep a list you know! A list- I'm on that list, I guarantee it," interrupts Jamey, breaking my reassuring words as he spirals into a slight panic. "Oh, Suff! What am I going to do!? It can't end like this!" I swiftly cut him off, "Don't be absurd, Jamey! Calm down.. Nobody is being relocated and there's not going to be a inspection anytime soon. You aren't on a 'list'- nor is their a list," I snap at Jamey, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly as I form a slight smile, "Honestly, Jamey." "Right- Right. I'm heading to the ration terminal, meet up at the tables?" Jamey replies, breaking my grip from his shoulder, I rest my hands behind my back, performing a nod, "Course'. I'll see you then, Jamey." Jamey nods, exiting the facility, ''See ya' then, Suff.'' I break my smile, allowing my facial expression to sink into the despair around me as Jamey escapes my presence.


Jamey is twenty-six years old, short red hair, English accent and a facial appearance allows him to appear as if he's in his in his early thirties. Jamey told me that he was an accountant before the seven hour war, his wife had passed away due to cancer but they had a four year old daughter. Jamey and his daughter lived in a small fortified city ran by the military. After the seven hour war, the City Jamey resided in for safety from the creatures came under Combine control. The Combine intercepted Jamey's daughter, killing her as they did hundreds upon thousands of others. There isn't a single resident under the age of twenty. A suppression field powered by the Citadel keeps it that way; it prevents intercourse, pregnancy, as well as sexual desires.. Not a single soul could attempt procreation even if they felt like it, everybody is sterile as long for as long as the suppression field continues to be online. I step through the door, allowing it to close behind me. The air is bitter, the chilled wind beating through my standard issued clothing as I cross my arms tightly over my chest, attempting to conceal my warmth. I direct my attention to the ending moments of Doctor Breen's usual broadcast on the large mounted televised screen located in the plaza. The broadcast audio is usually loud, but I'm unable to hear it inside 34F due to the constant noise of the equipment.


We used to have a pre-war projector broadcast Dr. Breen's broadcasts on the wall in front of the production lines for all of the workers to see, but it was decided that it was too distracting during workforce hours.. Accidents occurred increasingly often and the quota was slipping, therefor; it was moved out of the workforce facilities. Dr. Breen folds his hands in front of him, a demeaning little smile crossing his face as he closes his speech.  " -- like twine over the spindle, they will continue to be spun by unsophisticated, urological minds that contain only the selfish lust of chaos and destruction, and like salvaged muts, they will not go out without a bloody fight!" “He must be speaking about the movement.. If- There is even such a thing.” I think to myself.  The movement is supposed to be some kind of organized resistance militia against the Combine.. Personally I have never seen them, occasionally you hear a rumor or a whisper among friends, nothing major.  I turn at a small alleyway, it leads to the residential apartments but it's a shortcut to the train-station. As I adventure into the enclosed alleyway, I take notice that the door to the Storage are seems to be partly open. A Civil Protection unit is standing in front of the door, wielding a stun-baton, standing tall with a stern posture."<:: Resident! Keep moving." Barks the unit, his vocoded voice echoing throughout the enclosed alleyway. " Certainly. Apologies, Officer." I reply, displaying my hands in front of me in a defensive manor.



 I face forward, not looking back as I turn the corner, approaching the residential apartments. Two residents can be seen speaking quietly to one another near the entry, I close in quietly. Civil Protection seems to be vacant from the block for the time being. "What happened? Back there in the alleyway?" I ask in a hushed voice, keeping my attention forward so if a protection unit comes around the corner, I could just resume my walk as if I had never spoken a word. The man to the left shoots his friend a dreadful look, shaking his head as he turns the other way, as if attempting to hide his expression. "Well.. The guy they just escorted there was Mr. Kayford," says the second man, placing his left palm over his face in an upset manner as he continues, "Mr. Kayford's apartment was raided earlier, apparently Kayford had hid an old photograph of his wife under one of the floor boards. "And.. They found it..?" I ask. "Not by accident I'm sure. Mr. Kayford has always had the tendency to trust easily." Says the man, patting his friend on the back. Screams of pain and terror begin to echo throughout the small adjacent alleyway, the sound of the stun-baton hitting Mr. Kayford's back quite auditable. The man continues, tears strolling down his face,  "It.. Was only a photograph..--" As the second man finishes his sentence, he breaks down into tears. I shake my head understandably, my eyes flit towards the alleyway for a brief moment, I then swiftly turn towards the second man, "I'm so sorry.. I- I best be going, if.. -- If Kayford comes back, send him my regards." I say, dismissing myself hesitantly as to not disturb the situation any further. The second man nods curtly, allowing me to be on my way. Kayford.. The name sounds familiar.



And with reason. Kayford is one of the most generous people you will meet. Kayford is in his late sixties, grey hair with a rugged' and wrinkled covered face. He sports a grey mustache, trimmed to civil standard. Kayford's wife is located in another city, she was relocated during the early days, he still has hope to see her once more. Nobody really knows which city she was relocated too.. He had a rise of hope nearly four months ago when a young brunette girl was relocated here, she described his wife in near perfect detail, claiming to have seen her during her relocation. Her last known location was the district twenty-six train-station in City 38. From the sound of it, she was most likely being relocated again to only her majesty knows where. As I approach the train-station, I look back momentarily. The second man is leaning against the banister of the steps, upset. The first man looks my way, shaking his head as if I had performed an act of traitory. I swiftly turn my attention towards the door, careful as to not attract any attention. I can't help but to feel immoral.. But- There was nothing I could have done to better the situation, really. I push open the door, stepping inside. My eyes trace over the cold rock walls; the open spacing, the propaganda littered across the walls, Civil Protection units standing idly by as citizens acquire their ration from the dispenser. I uncross my arms, passing the stone tables whereas residents are sitting quietly, dining on their supplements, keeping to themselves as they whisper quietly amongst another, I step into the line, an unfamiliar face walks past me, holding her parcel tightly to their chest as if to conceal it's limited warmth. She looks my way, issuing a brief smile before turning towards the tables. The line closes towards the dispenser by a mere inch, the next resident steps towards the terminal.


"<:: Resident! State your name and Citizen Identification Digits." Says the Civil Protection unit.  "Chris Liebermann 65783" The resident replies. The Protection Unit registers Chris's information into the terminal, a ration parcel extends it's-self on the tray of the dispenser. Chris reaches out, removing the ration from the tray, he holds the ration in his hands, briefly examining the label. "Er- 1MG..?" Christopher asks, irritated. "<:: Affirmative, citizen. Relocate to the distribution tables." Replies the protection unit."Christopher takes his eyes off of the label, turning towards the protection unit as he begins to supple his fingers around the vulcanized plastic edges of the parcel. "Must be a mistake. Check again." Christopher demands, placing his parcel back on the tray. " Oh, Dear." I mutter under my breath, turning my attention elsewhere as if nothing is happening. The Protection Unit turns in disbelief, removing his hands from the terminal, "<:: What was that, Citizen?" "I said check it again. There's been a mistake" replies Chris, crossing his arms over his chest. "<:: Mistake," The Protection Unit almost purr's, locking his eyes on Chris. After a brief moment of staring at one another, the Protection Unit speaks, as if talking into a radio. "<:: Control! I have 10-87 in progress, distribution block thirty-six. Suspect non-cohesive, requesting nearby units respond code four." " <::| Attention; Terminal violation 51B in progress at Transit-block 3-6. Nearby protection units respond code four. |::> The female voice replies, emitting off of nearby Civil Protection units. " A protection unit standing weary at the exit, monitoring the situation from afar begins to walk towards the distribution line."<:: Defender 76382E responding to that 10-87, moving to pacify." Says the approaching unit, the footsteps drawing closer. The Trainstation falls into a silent abyss of grey and yellow, it feels dead silent, I can't help but to curiously gaze over his unearthly being as he stands before Chris, I look for only the slightest moment. The unit turns towards me, leveling his eyesight with mine, staring into my eyes as if it had just seen into the the deepest pits of my soul. I feel frozen, unable to turn away. I know in this moment that this unearthly being has just seen my fears, my memories, my humanity.. God herself has abandoned the Trainstation in these moments, I'm standing in the presence of something truly evil. This unit is different from the others, it sports a mask with chaotic glowing red eye-plates, the filter of his mask resembling that of a radiator, black uniform,  red shoulders and a red square in its chest. Two utility belts interlock over the unit's  stomach area. The unit wears a bright red sociostability armband over his forearm, combine insignia stamped into the background. The words “ELITE PROTECTION DIVISION” sewn in an arc around the insignia. The sound of a ration dropping to the cold tile floor echoes throughout the entire Train-station, Christopher shivering in fear. The Elite Protection unit breaks his sight with mine, turning towards Christopher. "<:: Did you just drop that ration, citizen?" 76382 asks grimly. " I- I.. Please- I'm so sorry. I- I never meant any harm, I'll pick it up!" Christopher replies, bending over in fear as he picks up his ration, "S-See! N-No harm done!" Christopher staggers, as he raises the ration to 76382's view.


The Elite Protection unit begins to step forward threateningly, Christopher backing up with every pace the unit takes in his direction. Chris raises his ration parcel as a shield, dropping it out of shear anxiety as he backs into the banister, confined whiten the grasp of the unit. 76382 steps closer, standing only mere feet from him, his bulk shadow engulfing Christopher entirely. 76382 continues forward, a crunch heard under the Units solid black boots. The unit directs his attention towards the floor, lifting his boot. The ration Christopher had dropped now rendered into mush. 76382 turns to Christopher, sending his hand towards Christopher's chest, grasping ahold of his thin blue issued shirt, lifting Christopher into the air. " Please, officer! Don't hurt me! I beg of you!" pleads Christopher, fear trodden deep into his face."<:: Suspect! You are judged guilty of Public noncompliance level one, Lateral Out-take level two, resisting pacification level two. Prepare to receive your verdict!" replies 76382, unclipping his stun-baton from the left side of his utility belt as he raises it into the air, activating it with a jolt of the wrist. The shear terror of blue electricity fills the walls with a light blue, Christopher's shadow frozen into the wall as if time had stopped. The Elite Protection Unit throws Christopher against the wall, dropping him to the ground violently.  A crack can be heard, as if Christopher had just broken a limb."<:: Suspect! Get on your feet, NOW!!" demands the Protection Unit. Chris struggles to his knees,bearing his arm against his chest,  his wrist certainly broken, the swelling forming almost instantly, " My wrist-- I beg of you, have mercy! "whimpers Christopher.


The Elite Protection Unit pulls back his stun-stick, slamming it against Christopher's neck. Christopher falls to his face, emitting a shear whelp of pain before hitting the ground. The unit pulls back his stunstick once more, delivering it's painful electric shock towards Christopher's back. Christopher cries out in pain, pleading for somebody to help him, but nobody does; the residents continue to watch the scene unfold in horror. The unit  pulls back his solid black boot, sending it to Christopher's side, shattering two of Christopher's ribs. "Gah! Aha-ouch" cries out Christopher, pleading for his life as he struggles to form prayer hands. The Elite Protection Unit shakes his head, emitting a hackle that could almost be construed to be a chuckle, "<:: Citizen.. " My eyes turn towards Christopher, his body like a rag-doll spread over the floor. There's still life in him, I can tell by the rapid rise and fall of his chest. 76382 kneel's down, clamping his grasp around the back of Chris's neck, standing up as he lifts Christopher over his shoulders, careful as to not break his neck. 76382 turns to the nexus door, sending a final radio transmission before stepping inside, Christopher almost lifeless over his shoulders. "<:: Control! Reporting that 51B has been pacified, moving suspect to DB; Transit-block three-six is sterile. " 76382 radios to the control center, The airlock door opens, allowing him inside.


"<::| Reward Notice: Protection team member, you are now at sixty-two percent rank points. |::> " replies the automated female voice, notifying 76382 of his reward. The train station remains silent momentarily, as if paying a salute to a fallen comrade. I find myself able to breathe again, I sigh in relief as I turn towards the front, finding to my surprise that I'm the next one in line. "<:: Citizen! Keep moving, state your name and citizen identification digits. " says the Protection unit from behind the dispenser. I turn towards the dispenser, still in disbelief. "Er-.. Suff Kovalevski, 47704, Officer." I reply. "<:: Verified. Citizen! Remove your parcel from the tray and relocate to the distribution tables." I reach towards the tray, taking my ration as I bear it tightly against my chest, it's warmth comforting. My eyes flit over the tables, searching for Jamey's face. I walk to the third ration table, taking my place across from Jamey, placing my ration in front of me. " Good evening, Jamey" I greet, issuing a short friendly nod. " To you as well- Er.. Did you see what happened?" asks Jamey, curiously, as if to see if I had a story to tell.


Of course I saw what happened.. It just caught me by surprise, I mean- That isn't something that happens everyday, usually it's handled in more private manners. I felt as if- Like.. It's hard to explain, but I felt like all hope and happiness had left my soul entirely for the duration we stared into each others eyes. But- I didn't say that. I would sound like a rambling fool. "Mhm- Just a small outburst in the ration line. I don't think he was hurt that bad, just a few scratches." I reply, lieing to Jamey. I know it's bad to lie, but.. Come on- Jamey is practically a child at heart. It would crush his spirit if he knew that somebody who stood up for themselves, had endured a beating so harsh. "Oh- That's good, I'm glad to hear he's alright, I look forward to meeting him tomorrow " Jamey replies, somewhat uplifted by the fact that Christopher may be fine. "Yeah- Well.. You know how it is, relocation's, cetra.. Don't be surprised if he's in a different district." I say, trying to bring down Jamey's hopes. The lies keep piling up..But with good intent- Christopher will not be coming back. Ever.. When I saw him being lifted over that units shoulders, I knew from the look of him that he was a mere inch from death. "Oh.. So.. How was work?" replies Jamey, trying to make small-talk. "Fine I suppose.. Yours?" I ask, sliding the supplements from whiten my ration onto the table. "It was great.. Well- You know.. The usual great; that was until I heard the shortage." replies Jamey, dipping his spoon into a white mash that could be construed to be mashed potatoes.


 "I know It's hard Jamey, but remember--" I'm interrupted, Mr. Sorran taking his seat next to me, Ms. Odin sitting next to Jamey. "Good evening, gentlemen." Sorran says quietly, issuing me and Jamey a nod. Sorran then turns towards Odin, shooting her a brief smile, 'Ladies." Odin forms a overzealous smile, " Evening', Dearie.". " So.. Jamey.. Mr. Kovalevski- What's the discussion about?" asks Sorran, turning towards me for the answer. "Nothing, really. 34F had a small shortage--" I reply, interrupted by Sorran. "Shortage.. Sounds serious.. I bet the damned Combine had somethin' to do with it!" Sorran says quietly, leaning across the table towards Jamey. Jamey shakes his head, "Damn Combine.." This is precisely the type of nonsense Jamey does not need to be hearing. Ever since Jamey was relocated here five months ago, Sorran has attached himself like a parasite and continues to fill his head with rebellious propaganda..  I fear for Jamey's safety, I fear that he may repeat Sorrans words to the wrong person and wind up at a horrific place.. I swiftly cut in, leaning towards Sorran as I place my hand over his hand, motioning for him to stop speaking. Sorran's eyes flit between Jamey and me, he then sits back, shaking his head in a disappointed figure, "But, of course.. There will always be those who refuse to stand up for their beliefs." He says, scooping a spoon full of mush into his mouth.

Chapter two: State of Alarm

I enter a nightmare from which I wake repeatedly only to find a freater terror awaiting me. The things I dread the most, all the things I dread for Jamie. Each time I awake, I think, "Just a dream.. Please- Let it be a dream.", I'm confided in an abyss of disappointment as I slowly gaze over the torn decayed walls of my apartment. Still in a haze, I stretch my arm over the other side of my bed, seeking Jennifer's warmth, finding only the rough freezing canvas cover of the mattress. "Your fortunate to be away from this place.." I mutter. I attempt to stand up, as if moved by some urgent purpose, only to then collapse back into my bed. Jamie turns the corner of the hall-way, entering my room. "Here- Let me help.", says Jamie. Jamie crouches to his knees, helping me into my pair of loafers. "Thank you, Jamie.. I appreciate it" I say, still waking from my haze. "Oh- Anytime." replies Jamie sheepishly. " My breath makes small white clouds as it hits the air. I exhale into my hand, as if catching the white cluster. Jamie sees this, "Rob's heater died last night.. Unless we can haggle with the residential block behind us, we're out of luck for a week or so.." Jamie says grimly.


I shake my head, "Warmth is about as valuable as a commodity right now..", I say, tieing my shoes. "They will not be sharing heaters. The best we can do is have the elderly sleep two to a bed. " The cold, combined with hunger, old age and muscle pains is extremely deadly for the elderly that reside here. During inspections, it's not uncommon for the Combine to find three or four elderly whom deceased in their sleep due to the freezing cold. I stand to my feet, exiting my apartment as Jamie follows closely behind. We stroll through the hall-way, walk through a flight of stairs to the first floor. As I prepare to push open the exit door, Jamie motions for me to stop, " Suff- Wait." Says Jamie, eyes fastened on a yellow vending machine. I turn towards Jamie, taking notice of the abnormal vending machine, 'Er..-What is it?" I ask, stepping away from the door as I walk towards the vending machine. Jamie examines the machine briefly, "Dr. Breens Private Reserve; Premium Water.", Says Jamie. "It contains twice the vital nutrients of your basic water, plus a special flavor coaxed by the Universal Union to satisfy your taste." Jamie continues, reading aloud the motto shaped in an arc over the front of the machine. "Really?" I exclaim, positioning my forefingers over the button. "Which you may purchase for thirty tokens." Jamie adds as I press inward on the button, the machine's LED Light flashes red, alerting me that no credits had been inserted. I'm overcome by disappointment.



"Oh.. So.. What do you think it tastes like?" I ask, the void in my taste-buds gnawing with craving. "Chicken.",  Jamie replies flatly. "Come on- We have places to go.." Jamie adds, I turn towards Jamie, motioning for him to lead, "Right then- I'll follow a safe distance.", I say. Jamie issues me a short nod, proceeding through the exit.
I follow shortly behind, keeping my head-down as to not attract any unnecessary attention, my shoulders lunged forward as to blend into the environment. We make our way through the district, only soon to  fall into the line for the plaza checkpoint.  Checkpoints are often positioned in the entrances and exits at random, there is really no way to divert them, the only way through is the only path forwards. Four protection units are manning the post, speaking into their radios. Indistinct radio chatter surrounds the checkpoint, the chilling often repeated words 'Sterile', 'Administer' and 'Judgment' . A Metrocop shifts the direction of his stun-baton towards the entrance of the checkpoint, "<:: Citizens! Keep moving."  It's Jamie's turn in line.



Jamie moves forward, attempting to pass through the checkpoint, only to then be blocked by the Electronic Shield. The surveillance camera locks onto Jamies facial area, flashing red, snapping photographs in alarm. Jamie panics, trapped whiten the confines of the fence. A Metrocop moves through the exit shield freely, motioning for Jamie to follow him, "<:: Suspect! Come with me." Jamie turns toward me in the line, shooting me a uneasy look before turning towards the Metrocop, "Wait- Why?" Jamie asks, careful as to not agitate the unit."<:: I said MOVE!" the Metrocop emits a strong vocoded growl, raising his hand only to deliver a sharp shove towards Jamie's shoulder. Jamie stumbles backward towards the door, raising his palms in front of him, as if showing the Metrocop that he was defenseless, that he would obey. Jamie turns towards the door, following the Metrocop inside. I was able to catch a glimpse of Jamie's face, it was pale, as if all the warmth in his body, his heart, had been taken from him.


Sorran. The word shoots through my head, wrapping it's self around my mind like a brand. The anguish I feel when Jamie's life is in danger, the anger I feel toward Sorran wells up in my chest and threatens to register on my face. I can almost envision what is happening to Jamie: Jamie crouched in the corner of the room, begging for mercy as a Metrocop approaches him with a blade.. No- No it would be far worse, Jamie would be strapped into the interrogation chair, cut into pieces, his endless screaming, begging for somebody to help him as the Metrocops remove chunk by chunk from his body, stuffed into next weeks rations just like the Poskettel Incident in City 37." Oh dear- Poskettel.." I think. The screaming.. The endless tormented screaming..  I can still hear it,  even after a year and a transfer later.. This was only one of a few public examples; usually the Combine don't perform such barbaric acts in public, but in other times they feel that the time calls for it.
Alan Poskettel. Alan was caught engraving Anti-Combine propaganda in the hallway walls of the residential apartments by a Civil Protection unit, it really gets no worse.. Civil Protection deemed this individual an example to our block, to those of us who would carve poems into the bed-frames, into our walls and floorboards.


They erected an interrogation chair in the lobby, strapped Alan to it and thought best that it would be an appropriate time for a lecture. After the lecture, the torture began.. They began to cut piece by piece from Alan, the worst part was his screaming, he wouldn't pass out because of the serum they injected into his arm.
We were forced to watch.. After the torturous event, one of their Field Commanders stepped into the room and ordered Alan's decapitated body to be directed into next weeks rations for the protein, followed by a chaotic chuckle. Some residents chose not to consume their supplements, out of respect for Alan. But those of us who know
Alan would rather us live than to starve to death ate their supplements. It wasn't too bad- I mean..- Once it's in the rations; food is food.  I begin to panic, struggling to calm myself down as I almost spirl into a anxiety attack. The Metrocop extends his Stun-baton over my shoulder, tapping rather intently. My pale cold face meets his mask. "<:: Keep moving. " the Metrocop says, lowering his stun-baton to his side. I waste no time obeying the order, I step through the checkpoint; the relief I often feel when the light blinks Green is vacant.. I'm in shock- In shock that Jamie, the red-haired English Child-at-heart friend that is true, may have just been taken away from me. That his ghostly pale face may have been the last I had seen of him. My eyes meet a empty bench centered next to the monument, I casually make it through the plaza, sitting quietly on the Bench. I begin to think about Jamie, about his association with Sorran, about the topics they had discussed, the endeavors they had planned and conceived, but never carried out. My thoughts are interrupted as Dr. Breen's face appears on the large Screen attached to the Train-terminal, clearing his throat as he prepares yet another message to the Citizens of his Regime.  I try to avoid watching at first, but Dr. Wallace Breen pulls my attention through the mention of the Premium Water.

"Had it really only been twenty minutes ago that Jamie directed my attention to the Vending Machine?" I think. Dr. Breen is speaking about the newly implemented 'Premium water' machines placed in various areas of our districts. 
"-- Doctor Wallace Breens Private Premium Reserve,a refreshing beverage made available to you, for only the subtle amount of twenty work credits. As a reminder; Civil Services are granted this thirst quenching Beverage without charge, as an additional reward for their dedicated loyalty and unquestionable dedication to keeping you.. Safe.. Safe at home: Safe always..-" Dr. Breen announces.
"What water could possibly be worth twenty credits?" I think to myself. Twenty Credits is one weeks salary in the Workforce. I often purchase Noodles or a small carton of Universal Unions' artificial Milk with my pay, there isn't a large selection of goods, but Citizens often make do with what we are offered.