Gyaros Book One: The Mice Eat Iron (YA 17+ Sci Fi Adventure) (3 page)

“What about Tyler
?” Miles said quietly and calmer than before. Tyler Riggs also worked in The Energy Department, and was a popular guy, good looking, funny, but with a cruel sense of humour. Miles could not count the number of times he had been the butt of a Tyler Riggs prank. Everything from sending Miles’ private messages around the office for all to see, to physically tripping Miles as if they were still in high school. Of course after the laughter had subsided Tyler would always say, “hey it’s just a joke man, take it easy. What’s wrong, can’t you laugh at yourself once in a while? Quit being so defensive, damn!” Tyler being the sector manager made things even worse. The diligent worker that he was, Miles would often be tasked with picking up the slack for the laziness or inability of his co-workers, not least Mr Riggs himself who had made a habit of palming off his undesirable work, and that of other workers, onto Miles. This resulted in very late nights and extremely busy weekends for the overworked Miles Stanton.

“What did Tyler do this time?” Miles anxious now to hear what nefarious plot had been perpetrate
d against him on this occasion.

“It’s your wife Miles, it’s Hellen…” Clark stopped and brought his gaze to the floor, no longer able to m
aintain eye contact with Miles.

“Spit it out for G
od’s sake Clark, don’t do this to me!” Miles pleaded now shaking Clark by the collar, his hands balled into fists around Clark’s cotton work shirt, his knuckles as white as the office furniture.

Finally Clark began to speak again, his voice cracking
, “it’s Tyler and Hellen, Miles, it’s not good.” Clark looked up to regain eye contact, “on my way out of work on Friday I overheard Tyler and his buddies, he’s been sleeping with her for the past three months. He said she’s getting ready to leave you and start a serious relationship with him.”

Miles’ grip loosened and all the colour, what was left of it, drained from his face completely.
Waves of nausea pulsated from Miles’ stomach, up through his chest, and into his throat. He felt like he was going to be sick, his gut twisting and knotting upon hearing this news.

“B-but, when, how,
i-it can’t be true,” Miles stammered, his eyes darting about frantically as he attempted to register what he’d just been told, “she works all day in The Biochemistry Research Facility, and I’m home on the weekends! It’s just not possible.”

“Yeah you’re at home on the weekend, catching up on work, but she sure isn’t. And you spend all your evenings here, shit you’re the last out of the office every
damn night of the week! Don’t tell me it’s impossible, there’s plenty of occasion for it, and I heard it from Tyler himself,” Clark whispered back, relieved that he had gotten the information out into the open, no longer was the terrible secret eating him up inside, as it had all weekend.

“S-so wait, that bastard Tyler
has had me working overtime so that he could fuck my wife?! I, I just, I can’t even…” Miles placed his hands to his face and slumped in his chair.

Clark leaned over and put an arm around Miles
, “hey now, c’mon it’s going to be alright, you’re a tough guy, I’m here and I’ll help you get through it, we’re gonna work this out, everything is gonna be ok, you just stay calm and let it all out.”

A thousand thoughts raced through Miles’ head, not one of them coherent, until suddenly he remembered! The email, the mysterious message. There was no longer any doubt about what it was regarding. Miles sat up straight, much to Clark’s surprise, and brought his hands to his keyboard and navigation pad.
Miles moved his cursor to the subject line, took a short, sharp breath and clicked…

“Dear Miles,

I don’t know how to put this so I’m just going to come out and say it. We’
re through. Our marriage is over and I want you out of the house immediately, that means today. I’ve packed your belongings into one of the big cases, it contains everything you will need to spend the next few nights in a hotel. You can pick up the luggage after work and you can use your home computer to make accommodation arrangements and then you have to leave. Chet and I will not be there. If you refuse to leave, or make a scene I will alert The Enforcers.

I’ve already talked to my lawyer and we can begin the divorce proceedings when you are settled. We will be able to
negotiate the splitting of our assets and custody of Chet over the next few weeks and months.

Don’t hate me Miles, I tried, I really tried to love you, to make our marriage work, but you’re never home, and when you are home you spend all your time working in your study. I once loved you deeply Miles but I can no longer pretend that I still do. I’m sorry you had to find out this way, forgive me for I didn’t have the strength to say it to your face.

I hope that in time the pain will pass and we can remember the good times with fond memories.

I’m sorry
Miles.

Hellen”

Miles sat there stunned, his mouth agape, his mind blank. It was as though time had stopped, his surroundings
faded into black nothingness as the full magnitude of what he had just read began to dawn on him. His marriage was over, his five year marriage to his beloved college sweetheart was no more. The mother of his four year old son had ended, suddenly and without warning, their once perfect marriage. Despite the troubles of the past year it never once crossed Miles’ mind that it could be leading to something like this. Something so sudden, so fatal, so final. Divorce!

“Holy shit…”
whispered Clark who, after witnessing Miles’ reaction, could not help but read the email from over Miles’ shoulder. He continued to speak, “whoa buddy, just…whoa. I am so sorry man, if I can do anything just ask. You know you can stay with me until things settle down. And listen I’m sure if you talk to Hellen you guys can work this whole messy business out. You just stay calm, and let’s get you out into the plaza for some fresh air and coffee, huh? What do you say?”

Miles had not moved an inch or said a word, nor had he registered a word of what Clark just said. Miles felt his heart sink and all his energy begin to drain, he
started to shake and could feel the urge to burst into tears coming on, waves of emotion swept over him as he began to take short, sharp breaths. He began hyperventilating.

“I can’t breathe
,” said Miles panicking now, with real fear in his eyes. He reached out and steadied himself on Clark’s formidable shoulders. And then like a child Miles buried his face in Clark’s soft chest and began to sob uncontrollably.

By this time the other workers had started to notice that something was up and a s
mall crowd was gathering around Miles’ cubicle.

The
hushed mumblings of the onlookers could be heard.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“That’s Miles Stanton!”

“Was he fired?”

“My God, what a baby.”

Clark
looked up angrily at the mob and spoke.

“H
ey c’mon, give the guy some space. Let’s be decent human beings here, he’s going through a hard time for goodness sake!”

Miles was still bawling uncontrollably, turning a large part of Clarks light blue shirt several shades darker with his tears. It was a pathetic sight, a grown man crying in the arms of his friend, and one that only the cruellest of the cruel could make fun of. And then, as if on cue, who should appear but the one person that Miles did not w
ant to see at this very moment.

“Ha! Wha
t are you crying about Miles?” asked Tyler Riggs, flanked on both sides by his cronies and smiling arrogantly. Tyler could not disguise his perverse enjoyment of the scene before him, he positively basked in the warm sense of schadenfreude he was extracting from witnessing Miles’ plight, as psychopaths tend to do in such situations.

“Hey, I don’t give you that much overtime do I? Haha!” Tyler continue
d to laugh and taunt, and his goons mimicked his laughter like parrots.

“Tyler, stop it
,” Clark appealed in vain, “leave the guy alone, and get out of the way so I can take him to the plaza to get some air.”

“Hmmm, I could do that, but as your sector manager you require my permission to take an unscheduled break. And well, I just don’t feel like giving you
one. Tell you what boys,” Tyler continued, glancing up to the large digital clock at the front of the office, “it’s only three more hours until lunch, why don’t you two get back to work before I decide to make you work through your lunch hour to make up for all this crying, huh?”

Tyler leaned over, hands in pockets and beamed a sadistic smile in Clark’s face. Clark’s eyes narrowed and his lips pursed knowing that Tyler was completely within his rights to do such a
thing. Meanwhile Miles’s weeping, which had remained basically the same the entire time, began to subside, his sobs becoming less frequent as he regained control over his breath.

“Ok
ay Tyler, we’ll get back to work, just give us a second to get organised,” Clark conceded, noticing that Miles’ condition had improved.

“NOW people, chop chop
,” Tyler clapped his hands together repeatedly, hurrying his subordinates along. And as he turned to walk away, under his breath he muttered, “no wonder that bitch is done with your ass, fuckin’ pussy.”

Upon hearing
those words Miles’ eyes opened suddenly and he felt intense, burning rage building up from deep within himself. His belly was filled with fire and his muscles were all at once incredibly strong and energised. This was usually the point at which Miles’ would clench his fists, bite his lip and use every ounce of his willpower to hold down his anger. Usually after a moment or two, thanks to deep breathing and reminding himself of the consequences of any kind of outburst, the feelings would subside and all would be back to normal. This worked for five long years, it worked for practical jokes, it worked for unfair workloads, it even worked for those times when Hellen would incessantly nit-pick and nag. This time however it was not going to do the trick. Miles simply did not possess the required amount of willpower needed to keep down this much anger. This was not just the anger from losing his wife, or finding out that his boss has been engaging in an affair with her. No, this was anger from childhood, from high school, from teachers who enjoyed chastising Miles for his shyness, bullies who laughed and teased when he wore his uniform to school on the casual clothes day, girls who laughed in his face when he asked them out, and every other slight, jibe, nag, taunt, tease and insult he had to put up with through college, at work and at home. There was not enough willpower in the universe, let alone in this poor man, that could have stopped what was about to happen next.

Miles looked up at Tyler, who had turned his back and begun to walk away, his face twisted and contorted with rage, his eyes burning like cinders and his skin now coloured a
bright pink hue.

“Don’t do anythi
ng crazy Miles,” Clark begged and he reached out to place his arms on Miles in order to restrain him, but it was already too late. Miles leapt to his feet and began walking furiously toward Tyler as the rest of the sector looked on in anticipation. To his left Miles spotted a glass vase sitting atop a colleague’s desk with a single big red flower inside. The vase was shaped like a three dimensional rectangle and was very thick indeed. Without breaking his stride Miles swiped it with his left hand, much to the bemusement of the owner of the cubicle. He then transferred it to his dominant right hand and tipped it upside down. The flower and the water fell to the ground soaking the carpet and making a distinctive sploshing sound, attracting the attention of Tyler who turned to see what was going on. Miles was only four steps away from Tyler who had now stopped to turn around. Tyler spotted Miles and began to speak, but before Tyler could utter the words “What the F…” Miles raised the heavy vase in his right hand and brought it crashing down onto the bridge of Tyler’s, no longer, straight nose.

Tyler fell to the floor
and slumped against a white cubicle partition as blood began to spurt profusely from the wound and out of his nostrils onto the bright white carpet. There was complete silence for a moment, when suddenly, a woman screamed, and then another, and yet another until the entire office erupted into a cacophony of frantic shouting and hollering. Tyler’s friends, so brave only moments ago while laughing at a crying man, now stood frozen in place, a look of total shock on their pale faces. Miles stood there seething, growling like an animal, the bloodied vase still held tight in his right hand, no longer in control of himself. Clark had by this time made his way over to the scene and placed a gentle hand on Miles’ shoulder in order to calm him down. Miles turned and barked incoherently at Clark, who recoiled in fear. Hundreds of workers hurried to and fro, still screaming and panicking in the large, densely populated open plan office. In the distance Miles spotted a group of four Enforcers, their human bodies clad in black robotic armour, slowly pushing past panicked people and making their way toward him, their faces protected by heavy black masks and their electrified pacification rods fully extended. Even in his out of control state Miles knew that this wasn’t good, that he was in a whole lot of trouble. His reasoning abilities started to come back slowly and he began to consider exactly what he should do next, but before he could snap out of his rage altogether the image of his wife Hellen appeared in his mind’s eye.