
Evil killex death bots(made from recycled trains)

The store of the future, at one stage it was going to be a whole block of them

You should obey or you will be spiked

Looking along Flinders

Looking back down including a Hare Krishna bot

Winston looked at the HUD on his visor display as he crossed the
A savage battle with
Winston was born on the South of the Yarra, and had fought in the war killing people he knew, the families of his old friends, feeling pleasure as they died. Now he had to go North, and face those same people again.
Even as he passed through the usually rough ticket scanners at Flinders Street Station, this was what was on Winston's mind. As the probes scanned and prodded him checking for his ticket and any unauthorised snacks, all that was on his mind was the new job he was starting tonight, as a concierge in one of the main virtual worlds, NorthG.
NorthG was a multinational gaming consortium which had bought out the entire suburb of
It was into this hornets nest that Winston was taking a train. In the North he was a hated Southerner, if anyone found out he would be dead in hours - however he had a job to do.
As he boarded the train his eyes scanned the standing crowd from left to right. Who was a Southerner? He doubted anyone other than himself. No-one else would be that stupid. Still, a job was a job, and in the current economy there were few who would turn any work down.
Most of the passengers were dressed poorly. He was glad he had deliberately dressed down for the day, buying old Chinese labeled clothes which were only available in the North from his local tobacco dealer. He felt bad wearing such a cheap and common suit, but his usual hand made threads from his tailor in Toorak would have him spotted before he even arrived.
As the train approached
It was this orange army which Winston feared. It didn't matter if he was innocent or guilty, if they found out he was from the North, he would be lucky to make it out alive. Winston held no personal resentment towards the guards, they were just doing their job. He just hoped that they let him through so he could do his.
The train arrived at the NorthG station, and Winston shuffled towards the doorway, pushing through the crowd of NorthG workers pushing their way onto the train, finally escaping from the long day shift. Lucky bastards, he thought, and walked through the tunnel leading from the station directly into the monolithic grey NorthG complex. As he approached the light at the end of the tunnel his conscience started to stir, but he knew there was no going back now. His pace quickened, by the time he reached the reception hall he was practically jogging.
He thought of his mother, his father, his friends back in the South. He thought of the man who had hired him for this job the week before, and of the liquid explosives that man had strapped to his torso. Finally he thought of his beloved wife, who had been killed during the Great Yarra War by a NorthG missile whilst pregnant with his first and only child.
Winston reached under his jacket and pulled on a nylon cord.
THE END
WM1 and IST Class Blogs for Victoria University Semester 2 2007, exploring Second Life/Virtual Reality and Writing for Multimedia/Interactive Storytelling.