Black Night

A morning meeting...

I. Black Night

It was dark, not that that was a surprise these days. For years both day and night had been equally pitch-black, the only light coming from yellowish streetlamps and indoor lighting. Sunlight only appeared on one day each year, for twenty-four hours. Telling time was impossible without the use of clocks or watches, so it became a requirement to have a time-telling device on you at all times.

Iva checked hers, pressing the button on the side of the wrist-worn clockface to light it up. Two minutes to seven o’clock AM. She’d been here, in the shadows behind the streetlight on the corner of Seventh Street and October Avenue, since five-thirty; an hour and half earlier. She was getting anxious, but it was her own fault for arriving so early. The meeting time was seven-oh-eight. Apparently her contact, Claiborne, as he called himself, was of an unconventional type.

Iva had been contacted by him (she assumed Claiborne was male, as he spoke with the typical male-important speech she heard every day from members of the opposite sex) the previous night, just before she went to sleep. In her line of work, being contacted by anonymous clients wasn’t unusual, rather the opposite. Iva herself used an alias.

She wasn’t one of those assassins that wore skin-tight leather suits. She left those to the newbies; the ones who thought that spy work was just like in the movies. Idiots, they were. No, Iva dressed like a sensible human being: denim pants, a loose-fitting but not baggy sweatshirt over a simple T-shirt, and plain boots. Her yellow hair, her one defining feature, was cut short and hidden under a baseball cap. She fiddled with it now, tucking loose ends back under the brim. It was a nervous habit of hers, one that she really should stop doing.

She checked herself when a heavy-set man stepped into the pool of light cast by the streetlamp. He didn’t look like much, with a day’s worth of stubble decorating his chin and a cheap suit. A woman clung to his arm, her hair dyed an unattainable-in-nature neon blue. She was slim, rather curvy. All in all, the couple was nothing out of the ordinary. Iva was about to dismiss them when the man swerved in her direction. The woman protested, but he quickly shushed her.

Iva pushed off the brick wall she had been leaning on, crossing her arms over her chest as the couple approached. “You Claiborne?” she asked in a low voice.

The man nodded, shaking the woman’s hand off his arm, causing her to squeak like a mouse. “You’re Iolanthe, then?” When Iva answered in the affirmative, he sighed. “All right, let’s get this over with, shall we?”

Author's Note

I'd appreciate it if you let me know what you think. :) The "one day of sunlight" idea came from a silly conversation my friends and I were having recently, and I though I'd give it a try. Parts II and III are coming soon!

Reviews

[Chirpy!]

Cool premise!! Makes me wonder about the planet.... Man made? Maybe a mining planet? Or maybe the sky is just covered in technology things and oh-so-many years ago they passed a law that said one day a year the sky must be clear for twenty four hours? So interesting!
I am also curious about the characters. I can begin to see the characterization of Iva as an assassin/spy. But I also see some things that make me a bit uneasy. I think I will read some other stuff of yours!

[EmaleighLynn]

Thanks! Can I ask what thinks made you uneasy?