“Nobody really knows who set the bomb, but the resulting strike in Poland led to a swift end of the war, leading to the uneasy peace that has lasted to this day”, my professor droned.
My college class on modern history was ending, and with that, a reminder of the 10 page paper due in three weeks. I grabbed my things and left, heading to the caf to meet up with friends. I quickly rushed in, grabbed a couple slices of pizza and iced tea and sat down with my friends, Ethan and Ryne.
“Whats the plan for tonight? The Harp has 5 dollar pitchers”, I asked.
“Sounds good, maybe after smoke a little? I got that new piece”, Ryne offered.
“If that's the plan, let's make sure not to go too hard. Last time Valencia here went out to the bars with me she ended up passing out on my floor playing some game. All I heard that night was 'WOW, THATS GOOD SODA!'”
“Shut the fuck up, Ethan.”
We kept up bullshitting for an hour, and after I finished eating, I slipped the glass I was using into my bag, took the tray to the bussing station, and went back to my room to start pretending to study.
At 8 we went to the bar, a couple of shots in, not wanting to spend all our cash. The Harp smelled like cheap liquor, and looked like a dream. Somehow it was like walking into a new world. No modern electronics, short of the payment system. It still took card. The bar was set up with an oblong bar in the center of the room, with the center holding the liquors, and it had tables and seating on the edges of the room. There was a back room for pool, darts, and standing. We came early for the chance to get a nice seat.
We drank a few pitchers among ourselves, then while sufficiently drunk, we left to catch a ride home.
It was outside the bar everything went wrong. I heard it before I saw it happening. There were two engines screaming down the street, and soon enough I heard shots firing. My buddies and I hit the deck. As the first car went by, one of the people inside threw something out the window. I should have known it was a grenade, but hey, hindsight is 20/20, ya know?
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The grenade exploded as the second car was running by it, and the rest went fuzzy until I woke up the next day. Sadly my pals weren't as lucky as me. I only lost an arm.
“Damn kid, that's why you're here?”, the man in front of me asked.
“No, it was the next couple of years after, where I dropped out of college, picked up a drinking habit, and nearly died. That's why I'm here”, I told him.
We were both in the lobby of Omni-Corp Pharmaceuticals' “Corporate Security” recruiting office. This is the place people with nothing left to lose go to. Sell your soul to the corporation, let them work on you like a guinea pig, add bits and bobs, and do what you're told. If, and I do mean IF you survive, you leave with an extended lifespan from the cybernetic enhancements, a good retirement, and a second chance at life.
From our chatting I had learned he was a medic from the Third World War I was learning about in that class before the night my life changed. He apparently was there in Poland during that battle that ravaged the country, and since then swore a life of peace and pacifism. He had stated he was a combat medic, not a real doctor. Apparently the PTSD ruined his life. He told me about how he shut the world out, fell into a nasty opiate addiction, something he said he started after he quote, “started rat-fucking his medical bag”. His wife left him, and she took the dog.
There were a couple more people in the room as well, but before I could really get to know the people, my number was called for the interview to see if I would get the job. I said my goodbyes to the man, and, following the secretary's directions, ended up in the interview room. I sat down and quickly began the interview that decided my future.
