Staccato patterns of light flashed by, revealing glimpses of air traffic and sky through ports in the transport tube. Frankie was numb. He had never heard of this before. Well at least not happening to upstanding citizens. Castouts happened in legal ceremonies all the time, and usually people who were not able to pay their debts. Poor souls who leveraged themselves so severely that the only recourse was to remove them from society and divide up their assets amongst their creditors.
It went dark now. The tube that carried the pod downward started to slope steeper, and Frankie was in freefall. He started to think about his family. His wife Annette had been wanting a Seperation Year to rediscover herself.
“I guess she was going to get that”, Frankie said out loud.
His kids were another matter. She had wanted to leave them behind in the Seperation, didn’t want to disrupt their social lives.
The shock of losing everything setting in, Frankie wept.
It was completely dark now, and the tube had slowed in decent. A slight hissing filled the pod with an odor similar to green olives. Schoewanetin. Frankie was a hobby biologist and he knew the smell well as he used it to put specimens to sleep, a fast acting nerve agent. He fought its effects but to no avail. Frankie felt no more for sometime.
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