e of white smoke rising from a funnel。
Although Rex enjoyed looking at the mural； he didn't pretend to understand it。 He had never seen the sea and the liner puzzled him greatly。 Why； he asked himself； should anyone build a factory so far from the nearest subway terminus？
The masterpiece had been painted for him； in exchange for food； by a young man who had taken up temporary lodgings on the sixth…floor landing。 Rex never knew the young man's name and once the painting had been pleted； he had left without a word。 The painting was an enigma； but it touched some distant chord in Rex and brought a considerable brightness into the otherwise gloomy surroundings。
As the day's first newscast began； a tiny doodad； concealed in the chair's back； sang happy awakenings into Rex's cerebral cortex and drew the lad awake。 Rex yawned and thumbed the remote controller。 The smiling face of the lady newscaster diminished and was gone。 Rex stumbled blindly towards the bathroom； which； along with the kitchen； was too unspeakable to merit a mention。 Here he bathed his eyes and scratched at the stubble on his chin。 As sight slowly returned； he glimpsed his cloudy image in the shaving mirror。
'Damnably handsome；' he assured himself。
And indeed Rex wasn't a bad…looking specimen by any account。 A trifle grey…green about the jowls； but nothing a quick spray of Healthiglo Pallorgone couldn't deal with。 And he did bear an uncanny resemblance to a certain Harrison Ford of ancient days。 This might just have been the product of happy coincidence； but the fact that his mother had been allowed access to the state sperm banks； whose stocks had been cryogenically laid down in the 1990s； probably played some part in it。
Rex attended to his daily toilet； picking off any flaky bits and doing what little he could to make himself look presentable。 From the three he possessed； he chose the shirt which was the least crisp beneath the armpits and gave it a dusting with Bugoff Personal Livestock Exterminator。 Once clad in his most dashing apparel； he opened a tin of synthafood and took breakfast。 Unfortunately； the label had e off and Rex was unable to identify the contents。 His morning repast pleted； he fought off the feelings of nausea which inevitably followed mealtimes。 Today they were somewhat more acute than usual； Rex having just consumed a tin of paint。
Rex belched mightily and zipped himself into his radiation suit。 Screwing on the weatherdome； he stepped through the airlock； primed the anti…theft devices on his front door and set off down the stairs to face the new day。
And it wasn't a bad one by any account。 Although the clouds hung but a few hundred feet above the rooftops and the crackles of the early electrical storm offered uncertain illumination； at least it wasn't raining。 Rex switched on his chestlights and pressed on through the murk towards the nearby subway terminus。 Today was to be the first day of his first…ever job and he had no wish to be late。
'Morning Rex； phew what a scorcher； eh？' The voice on the open channel belonged to Thaddeus Decor； who lived in the Coca Cola machine on the street corner。
Rex offered him a cheery wave。 'Morning Thaddeus； how's the wife？'
'Her knee's a lot better； thanks to that gangrene jelly you let me have。'
'Glad to hear it。'
'Young Kevin is down with the mange again。'
'I'll drop you something in later。' Rex continued upon his way。 Thaddeus grinned toothlessly through his weather…dome。
'Thanks mate；' said he。 'You're a real toff。'
The passage leading into the subway was brightly lit by the techniglow of a hundred holographic advertising images。 Rex plodded through the smiling ghosts ignoring their jolly banter。 Once through decontamination he removed his weatherdome and queued for travel clearance。 When his turn came； he pressed his face to the EYESPI。 'Destination？' the automaton enquired。
'The Nemesis Bunker；' Rex replied； proudly。
Circuits purred； information exchanged； the electrical voice said； 'Thank you； Mr Mundi； you are cleared for travel。 Have another day。'
The morning train lurched painfully into the station and shuddered to a halt。 It was not unduly crowded and Rex chose a vacant corner of the seatless carriage to squat in。 The journey took a little over an hour； but it did at least offer Rex the opportunity to catch the morning newscast on the carriage TV； learn what was considered right with the world and clock up a few legitimate food and medico credits。
The newscast was much the same as ever。 Things were looking up。 The economy had never been healthier。 Production had reached a record level。 There had been several more authenticated sightings of blue sky。 The road cones were expected to e off the M25 at any time now。 Rex raised his eyes to the last one； but anything was possible。
The broadcast ended with a little bit of station propaganda； dressed in the guise of human interest story and ical tailpiece。 Today it concerned an old lady who had clocked up an unprecedented number of credits； watching a rival station。 So many； in fact； that the station's controller saw fit to visit her in person to offer his congratulations。 Eliciting no response at her bunker door； his associates had cut their way in。 And there was the old dear propped up before the screen； staring on oblivious。 She had been dead for three weeks。
'Predictable；' muttered Rex； who was sure that he had heard the tale before。 Happily； his stop came just as the station songsters were launching into an excruciating new ditty 'Every Mushroom Cloud has a Silver Lining'。 The train rattled into Nemesis Terminus； deftly sweeping aside any fallen objects。 Today only two antisocial types chose to make the morning leap to oblivion。 The driver considered this about average for the time of year and tuned the cab TV to his favourite foodie。
When the closing credits of her favourite show had finally rolled off the screen； the fashionable young woman behind the reception desk lowered the volume on her terminal。 With mock surprise； she stared at the young man who had been standing there for the last twenty minutes； patiently flicking dandruff from the interior of his weatherdome。
'What do you want？' she asked； without charm。
'Rex Mundi。' The lad smiled encouragingly towards the stone…faced harpy。
'So what？' There was something in the woman's tone that suggested to Rex that casual sex was probably out of the question。
'I'm expected； or was anyway。'
'You're late。'
Rex opened his mouth to speak； but thought better of it。 If the receptionist could carry on in this fashion； it was more than likely that she held considerable sway with some high muckamuck on the Nemesis board of directors； possibly even the Dalai Lama himself。 No doubt in a horizontal capacity； Rex concluded； inaccurately。
'I have an appointment to see Ms Vrillium。'
The receptionist gave her terminal console a desultory tap or two。
'Ah yes； you're。。。'
'Late？' Rex said。 'Perhaps if you would be so kind as to direct me to the office of the lady in question； I might make up a few lost minutes。'
'You'd never find it；' said the receptionist； sighing hopelessly。 'Others have tried。 Men； what good are they； eh？ One brain between the lot of them。' Rex examined his finger nails。 They didn't bear examination。
'Possibly someone might be kind enough to show me the way then。'
The receptionist peered about the otherwise deserted entrance hall。
'It would seem；' said she； at length； 'that all are engaged in their various business pursuits。 Perhaps you'd better e back some other time。'
Rex stared into the smiling face。 He could always make it look like an accident。 Say she just fell and broke her neck。 But then； what if he was discovered？ It could very easily spoil his chances of early promotion。 'Is my sister Gloria about？' he asked casually。
'Gloria？' The name took a moment or two to sink in； but when it finally did； the effect was nothing less than magical。 'Gloria Mundi？' said the receptionist in a still； small voice。 'Station controller？'
'Got her in one；' said Rex brightly。 'My sister； if you could just give her a buzz； I'm sure she wouldn't mind showing me the way。 It was she who arranged the interview； you see。'
The receptionist who personally conveyed Rex to the door of Ms Vrillium's office appeared to have undergone a miraculous transfiguration。 Having provocatively wiggled down the corridors before him； she now took her leave with a ely wink and a husky； 'See you later； big boy。'
Rex watched her depart。 What a charming woman； he thought； I know I'm just going to love working here。
It's surprising just how utterly wrong it's possible to be； when you really put your mind to it。 For whilst Rex stood in that corridor； regarding the receptionist's receding rear…end and considering the engaging possibilities of nepotism correctly applied； dark clouds were gathering upon the already darkened horizon。 Great forces were stirring beneath the Earth's surface； and in a distant part of the galaxy； plans were being hatched that would ultimately threaten the very fabric of universal existence。
Or so it says here。
If it's God's will；