The Skin Dilemma

Kinza watched the Neo-Karachi skyline from the roof of the warehouse. She did not like the name Neo-Karachi, because it made the mess of a city sound sophisticated. She could barely see the skyline because of the heavy smog, that had already begun to cake the lens of her gas mask.

There was an explosion on the street below and she watched nonchalantly as the private armies of Nishat and Khaadi, who had joined forces, were attacking Couture’s body-mod factories, whose latest technological developments had begun to undermine their rivals’ stocks.

There were sirens in the distance but everyone knew the authorities would just have to stand by, before the PR departments of the companies would get to work and pay up for the utility damages. Loss of lives would not be a big issue since it would help with the overpopulation problem in the city, although the government would never admit it.  

Kinza was glad, the fighting would serve as a distraction. A soft ping in her phone implant signaled the hack had been successful. She lifted the now-unlocked hatch, removed her mask and dropped down.

***

The security within the factory was extremely tight. This was reassuring to Kinza, because it meant she was in the right place.

Getting past the mechanized security bots was a breeze, courtesy of the modified dynamic suit she wore, whose material could be changed based on her needs. Camouflage settings to get past the humans, and a special chromium suit to get past the mechanized bots sensors.

Her goal was to reach the store room, which were heavily protected but she’d found a way on the blueprints; a small vent through which her nimble body could fit through. She crawled through and was shocked when she reached the end. Couture’s CEO, Raja Sohail, had his private bodyguards patrolling the area; armoured suits adorned with the Couture logo colours, and dark visors that hid their faces.

How did they know? thought Kinza.

Kinza was hidden in the vents above them and frantically searched among them, relieved when she saw he wasn’t among them. She kicked the vent grate and it fell to the ground with a loud clang that rung through the entire room. She dropped down to the ground, landing in a timed crouch. All the guns in the room were trained at her.

She looked up at them.

I’ve been waiting a long time for this.

***

Kinza finished cleaning the blades built into her arms and spat on the nearest of the corpses. She’d made sure Zohaib had suffered. She would never forget when he’d led them against the sweat shop strikes, how all those workers had been massacred, including the children… after which she’d given in her resignation.

She walked up to the nearest container, entered the codes and the giant doors opened. Bingo.

“I can’t let you do that,” said a man’s voice behind her. She felt a gun pressed into the small of her back.

“I know you won’t shoot,” she replied. She wasn’t ready to face the man behind her.

There was a brief pause before the gun was removed. She turned around.

Zain looked a little rough around the edges, and yet she still felt a tremor in her heart. He wore the same armoured suits that his dead comrades wore, save for the helmet.

“God, I missed you, Kinza.”

Kinza didn’t say anything. She felt an intense rage and still wanted to hug him so bad; those strong arms around her body that she’d craved many a night. His naked body against hers…  

“How did you know I would be here?” she said trying her best to appear unfazed by his presence. She hid her shaking hands behind her back.

“I didn’t. One of our sentries spotted you on the roof outside during the fighting. I was confused why you had come back after everything,” He gestured towards the container. “And now I understand why.”

“You understand?” said Kinza. “Good, then let me have it and we can forget this all ever happened.” 

“Kinza, I can never forget you…” said Zain. The tremor in his voice tugged at her heart strings.

She took a deep breath to calm her breathing. It didn’t work. “It’s over between us. I can’t believe you chose to stick with these people… after everything that happened…”

“Kinza, you know I had no choice. I need the money, to save my mother.”

“Well, I’m doing this for my mother too. So, stand back.”

“Your mother’s dying, Kinza. She can’t be saved anymore. You can’t ruin the rest of your life just because it’s her dying wish.”

Tears were flowing down Kinza’s face. She turned around and walked to the container. “Stand back…”

Zain grabbed her hand. Kinza pulled but he would not let go. She instinctively pulled out the blade in her free arm and raised it above his hand.

“Do whatever you have to do,” said Zain. “But I won’t let go. I won’t let you throw away your life.”

***

Kinza had her head lowered underneath her veil. Her cousin, who was her soon-to-be husband, sat next her with a wide smile on his face. She raised her head to look up at her mother, a feeble woman who was barely alive, with tubes that went from the oxygen cylinder into her nose. She was smiling. For the first time in years, her mother looked happy.  

It had been her last wish to see Kinza married to her cousin, who she had been pledged to when she had been born. Kinza had been opposed to it for years but when she had finally given in, her cousin’s family had rejected her for her dark skin. That’s why Kinza had gone through all that trouble to get the prototype body skin mod, so they would finally accept her.

She looked down at the henna on her smooth, fair hands. She shuddered. It reminded her of Zain’s dried blood…