The Exile

My name is Eliot Jenkins. I was a famous innovator of advanced technologies for Musk Industries, a branch program under MUSKCORP. My life was simple, and I lived without care until one fateful day, I fell in love with a beautiful woman who belonged to another man. Her jealous husband complained to President Musk, who had me banished from my home and, from all that I knew, exiled from the city and the Socs to the outskirts of Toronto, where the Greasers reside.

The last thing I remember was seeing security escort her away before darkness took me. Working at Musk Industries, I had heard rumours, and stories of exiles though I never thought I would be here, become another story or tale. I woke washed ashore, filthy from the polluted wastewater and the back of my neck sore, no doubt from the injection that rendered me unconscious. I observed my surroundings and noted the large irrigation tunnels, a project I not only worked on but helped develop during my time with Musk Industries. As I peered at the massive city towering over this low land, I was startled by a nearby rustling in the bushes. A pair of bright blue eyes stared deep into mine with a look of genuine curiosity I couldn't remember feeling until now. This gossamer hair and ragged clothing could not lessen its kind and innocent nature written in their eyes. It smiled and ran off to the sound of its name being called. "Meo!" echoed through the thickets. I felt weak from the raw radiation and the powerful heat from the sun weighing upon me, and in an attempt to seek shelter from the elements, I pursued the child and the voice. I found myself surrounded by women and children clothed in rags and makeshift footwear, dirty, tired yet somehow unbothered by the elements that seemed to drain me of energy by the minute. As I scanned my surroundings, I noticed parts of old technologies used as supports for hand-crafted structures that completed this greasy shanty town. It was only then I realized the severity of my situation. I was now trapped here with these Greasers. A force I could not resist brought me to my knees, and I collapsed again into darkness.

When I came to, my vision was severely distorted; holding steady through the vertigo were those bright blue eyes that helped me return to reality. "Meo is it?" I sat up. The child smiled and ran off, darting left and right as they dodged furniture and a prominent figure adorning a ragged leather coat slowly making their way towards me, carrying a tray of food and beverage and saying, "That was Meo yes. You will have to forgive his curious nature. He has never seen a Soc before. In fact, I can't say any of us Greasers have. We've only heard stories that have been passed down." He placed the tray on an old stump that had been whittled down by the bed. I felt even more exhausted than before. Perhaps the effects of that injection were more potent than I had initially anticipated. "You need to eat and have some drink as well. You are weak." Instructed the large Greaser. As I summoned the strength to sit up and reach the food tray, I saw a rough, rugged jerky and a mug of grey liquid. I hesitated. "I'm sure it is not what you are used to, but I can promise you it is better than nothing, given your condition. Forgive my manners. My name is Kwahlo." He reached out his sizeable, calloused hand. I reached back and felt the sheer strength of his being. A force that pushed me into a new level of exhaustion. It was then it dawned on me. I was dying. I no longer had the life protection of the Socs. And then I saw her. The most beautiful green eyes must have been the greenest I'd ever seen. As I stared deep into them, they seemed to change colour right in front of me. All the colours of the sea.