"So? Do we have flying cars?" I said as I gave Gary a hug. My mood lifted seeing my friend alive and in one piece. Another piece of normalcy from my old life locked back into place.

"Flying cars!" Gary said laughing, his cheeks had filled out even more, they squidged up into great balls either side of his face, I noticed he had become a good few inches past stocky.

Gary, was one of the few in Mother's City who could trace his linage and knew his family name. Although discussing Old World race and identity was forbidden by the OneCulture Act, he had let me know in confidence that way back he was a Papequash of the Plains Cree who would have lived, at one time in the very north tip of the circular circumference of Mother's Wall.

Even more incredible, his family had buried their family's relics once OneCulture passed. Perhaps Gary harbored a long-held hope of digging them up one day if Mother ever relaxed those laws. I knew she never ever would, once Mother has taken something, you don't get it back.

The Papequash relics would be Gary's secret passed down to further generations though, and I envied that little glimmer of hope he could have.

Gary's skin was tan, although lighter than mine but his eyes were darker. I noticed more grey hair flecked from the sides of his black mane than before. I also appreciated that his hairstyle was now a very subtle mullet tied at the back into a small ponytail– as much as was likely allowed in his job at Mother's Mind.

"Do you think I would be picking you up this piece of skiff if I could be driving around in a flying car?" he said. "No man, we don't have flying cars. And look at you!" He grabbed at my bicep and I flexed my arm. "Oh great, yeah Kal– enjoy it while it lasts. Now, stop being an asshole and get in the car."

I belted in and settled down.

"Where are we Gary?"

"Just outside Section One, in the Section Two borders – it was a non-marked facility actually. Total skiff to find. Oh, I've missed you too."

We took off and I scanned the road looking for changes in scenery. Nothing had changed. There was one of the many towering statues of Mother in the distance.

We hit the highway which then plowed us into the sprawling black spires of section two, a ruined nameless city of the Old World. We would have to crawl through more than an hour of traffic in Section Two for before hitting the greener pastures of Section Three where we lived.

"Tell me everything Gary. What have I missed? I've been gone four damn years–"

"Wait." Gary interrupted me, all the usual humor from his voice sliced away. "They didn't tell you?"

"Didn't tell me what?"

I tried not to spit out of the last word out but seriously – didn't tell me what? That the Scynthians were about to land on Earth and wipe us out?

I hadn't been told a damn skuffing thing apart from that I had a grip and grin photo session with Prince Rufus in a week.

Gary took a big breath and blew it out. "Okay. Sod this."

We were hitting the first traffic jam of Section Two and already it felt dark. Cloaked in the perpetual gloom of high pollution and gravity-defying towers, punctured with hundreds of neon signs. The streets were packed with thousands of people shuffling about, shouting and hawking dressed in an array of crazy Section Two fashions to downright rags.

Gary saw a parking spot open up and we risked life and limb to nab it.

"I need a drink," he said. He lumbered out and I followed, grabbing my de-brief kit from the dash. He gently moved a skeletal old lady out our way who let out a raspy, "Hey, wanna fool around?"

Amongst the smoke and steaming stalls, smell of mechanical grease and cooking fats shone the intergalactic symbol of a bar, a cocktail glass etched in flashing neon.

* * *

Gary sat across from me in a dingy booth with a pink, foamy monstrosity in-front of him. I had grabbed a beer and felt immediately disappointed that nothing had changed. Section Two was still a crumbling nest of snakes.

I rested my de-brief kit on the table between us the emblem facing towards me. From the depths of Mother's cloaked face, I imagined her eyes locking into mine, having the power to pull me back into the long sleep. I sipped my beer and my stomach clenched acidly.

I'm going to have to take it easy.

"Okay..." Gary took that big sigh again like he had something really important to tell and I had to do my best not to reach across the table and slap him. "You said you'd been gone four years, right?"

"Gary," I said. "Please tell me whatever the skuff you're trying to tell me."

"Kal. You were gone for six. You were gone for six damn years man."

Six years? They took another two years of my life?

"What?" I stammered. It felt like the whole room was rocking.

"Yeah," Gary said gently. "Two years ago, I started trying to follow up with the ministry to see when I would be getting you or if they could tell me what had happened. They only told me this: Kal is still in service. I didn't know what to think. Then yesterday I got a note." He pulled it out his pocket, small black envelope with Mother's crest on it. "It told me to come and pick you up at 1400 hours."

Six years. I felt my face get hot. A general sense of being as we say; Mothered, AKA totally and completely skuffed over with no option of recourse.

I tried to take a swig of my beer and bile pushed it back up my throat.

"Easy man. You haven't drunk for a while," Gary said.

I managed a bitter laugh. But I couldn't stop the thoughts rolling round my mind. The words six damn years over and over and over.

The room started to spin. I tried to focus on my beer, but my stomach was clenching and I was having to swallow back my spit. I swallowed heavily. I'm going to throw up.

"Up you get big guy," Gary was round my side of the booth in a moment, head under my arm as he helped me stagger into the back of the bar. Section Twoers jeered as I stumbled forward and Gary flung open the door to the bar toilet.

I was hit with the wall of heavy toilet stench and half fainted half fell in front of the toilet bowl my knees splashing down in the muck. I took one look at the gross bowl and I heaved out a cream-yellow liquid goop.

"Keep it coming Kal," Gary said. "Get it out, bud. You've been on a pure diet of Mother's Milk for the last six years, pal."

I heaved up more and sat back on my haunches. My eyes were wet and my nose was snotty.

I felt slightly better.

"Up you get," Gary said slapping me on the shoulder.

I managed to stand, sucking in shaky breaths and went to the sink, my own reflection caught me off guard, some hulk of a man with my own face grafted on the top stared back at me.

That is going to take some getting used to.

"Thanks," I said.

"That's okay Kal. You should maybe lay off regular food for a bit, which is a shame because they do some of the best rat burgers and locust fries here in the whole of Section Two."

"Right," I said as we headed back to our seats. "I guess I'll have to pass on that. So, catch me up. What have I missed in the last four – urgh –six years."

"Well, you missed Steven and Todd's wedding. Both are in service now."

"What about BioHat – did they bring out that new game?"

"Who?" Gary said, he discreetly tapped his middle finger against his drink.

This was our childish code that had probably saved our lives a thousand times. Tap your finger if someone has disappeared. Tap your finger if something has been wiped from our culture. Tap your middle finger if you say something but you mean the opposite.

I bit my lip, letting anger deep in my belly cool down. I sipped my beer again and this time it went down okay.

Skuffers.

"What have you been doing with all the free time then?" I said.

"Working out, of course."

I laughed; Gary had definitely not been working out, but his banter was as sharp as ever.

Gary gave me a cheers, we clinked our glasses and he gulped down more of his cocktail. He nodded towards my de-brief pack. "So? Are you rich beyond your wildest dreams?"

"I haven't opened it yet."

"Well skiff man– open it!"

I pushed my thumb into the red seal and it split open into a neat ring binder. On one side was a letter and below them neatly inserted into the packing were four small flat boxes. On the other side was a collection of papers and leaflets held together in a red ribbon. The title of the first leaflet caught my eye. "Caring for your prosthetics. A guide for amputees."

What the hell?

The first page was a letter in Mother's stationary, white with her red cloaked face crest. I pulled it out.

Dear 828-Kal,

Thank you for your service to Mother's Hand.

Please take note of the commendation pay, injury pay and refer to the subsequent leaflet of looking after your prosthetic(s).

During your service you received the following commendations:

Commendation: Valor in the field: Mother's Hand Medal: $5000

Commendation: Injured in the line of duty: $1000

Commendation: Mother's Master of Section: $500

Commendation: Mother's Master of Unit: $200

Stipend: 6 x years in Mother's Hand: $6000.

Your medals are provided in this pack.

I pulled open one of the boxes, set in black satin was a gold medal with red enamel. Mother's cloaked form with the words, 'Valor in the Field' underneath. I tried not to shiver and continued reading.

Rescue + Injury Charges: ($12,700)

Left arm (0.85 amputated) ($2500)

Right foot amputated – ($1500)

Bullet wound repair - 2 x Chest – ($4000)

Bullet wound repair - 2 x Back [exit] – ($2000)

Internal organ damage minor repairs- 2 x - ($1000)

Right leg minor shrapnel damage repair - 15 x – ($1000)

Total compensation: $15,845

Left arm prosthetic lease: $100 per month x 32 years.
Right foot prosthetic lease: $50 per month x 32 years.

"Gary, there has been some mistake. Check it out." I handed the page over to him and watched as he scanned it.

His face twisted with concern as his eyes drifted to my left arm. "Let me see your arm Kal."

"It's ridiculous. My arm is fine." I held it out my arm and opened and shut my hand rapidly. "See?"

Gary was flipping through the Caring for your prosthetics leaflet. He read it aloud; "With the Reach-182 model, users are neurologically connected to their prosthetic. They will need to practice cognitive disassociation with their prosthetic for removal, upgrade and joint cleaning."

"What the balls does that mean?"

"It means you need to actually, stop thinking you have an arm." Gary said. With his shocked eyes, chubby cheeks and small curved nose he looked like a surprised owl.

I studied my own very sculpted but until that moment perfectly normal looking and feeling arm.

"Well?" Gary said. "Can you do it? Does it feel like it's not your own?"

"No," I said sharply. "It's fine. It's my arm. This is a mistake."

Gary looked at me with sad eyes.

I regarded my arm again... trying to imagine it wasn't mine. Visualized myself with a stump a quarter of the way down. Where would that be? Halfway down my newly grown bicep? As I tried to picture it, I noticed movement on my arm underneath my t-shirt. I pulled up the sleeve of my t-shirt as the creeping slither the skin of the prosthetic protracted. As it wound down it revealed my real skin underneath, scarred veiny and scraped, it protracted showing my former arm stuffed into the metal socket of the prosthetic.

"Aww, skuff no," Gary said pushing back in his seat. "That is so gross."

I squeezed my eyes shut and stopped thinking. I could feel the prosthetic resheath over my wrecked arm.

The unfairness stung me. It wasn't having to serve. Sacrifice equaled security. That had been drilled into me from birth. Our life couldn't come without sacrifices. It wasn't even taking the extra two years. It was the fact that Mother hadn't bothered to tell me I had been obviously brutally injured, it dawned on me how much she did not care for us at all.

I slammed my fist down. "Skuffing Moth–" Gary kicked me in the shin. He looked over his shoulder and his face creased into an 'are you crazy?' expression.

"Man, but aren't you proud to have served?" Gary said tapping his middle finger on the table. Gary looked me with wide eyes. Be careful.

"Of course," I said. Tap. "I would always be proud to be Mothered by Mother. After all–"

"Without Mother's great and most noble of sacrifices–" Gary said. Tap.

"If she hadn't come down to this planet and had the foresight to rescue us–" Tap.

"Then we wouldn't be here today." Gary finished. Tapping his middle finger once more on the table."