Anarchistbanjo's World

The flight from New Rome to New Seattle was long and uneventful. There had been several stop-overs at other city-states along the way. At last he dozed fitfully. The sky was getting lighter but the sun was still under the horizon when he woke up. It was about 5:30 in the morning when the airbus touched down at the terminal in New Seattle.

Tobal got off at the airbus terminal and asked directions at the information desk. He was only two miles from Old Seattle. After spending the night in the airbus the exercise and fresh air felt good. His clothing was warm enough as long as he kept moving. He had no luggage because his uncle had said he would be given everything needed at Heliopolis when he got there.

The first part of his trip was easy since New Seattle was essentially one huge indoor complex. This was common with city-states. The entire city-state was essentially one giant self-enclosed structure. Public transit was small automated air cars that took passengers to any programmed address or destination. He was going to the South Gate and punched the proper location into the control screen.

“Please fasten your seat belt,” said a pleasant mechanical voice from somewhere inside the car.

Tobal complied and the car took off smoothly entering a long corridor filled with other flying traffic. In a matter of minutes his air car touched down next to the city gates and let him out. He watched as it sped away to pick up another passenger, then shrugged his shoulders and stepped through the gate into the cold air of Old Seattle.

The light mist and fog felt chill in the pre-dawn air. He turned his collar up against the wind and fastened his light jacket a little tighter. As he walked, he buttoned the top button of his collar. The icy moisture seemed to seep into his bones. There was a dusting of freshly fallen snow on the ground and it was very quiet as the sun peeked over the distant horizon. He guessed the snow would not last very long. It was already melting. While cold, it was still much warmer than his uncle’s estate.

Old Seattle differed sharply from New Seattle. He looked around curiously as he walked along an empty street. There were individual buildings on both sides as far as he could see. New Seattle had no streets. Anti-grav technology had made ground operated vehicles obsolete over twenty years ago before he had even been born. Still here in Old Seattle there was foot traffic and the streets were kept in repair for that purpose alone. The contrast between the two cities was almost overwhelming.

New Seattle was a self-contained city-state like so many others in what was now simply the Federation. Some of the older citizens called it the “New World Order” but it was not new any longer and did not seem to contain a lot of order. There were not many people still living that remembered the pre-Federation days. Each city-state was like any other with access to many of the same resources. Most people worked from their homes in private offices or lived within walking distance of the local manufacturing plants that produced the food and material products that kept the city alive.

It was hydrogen cell technology that revolutionized the world bringing cheap energy to entire communities. Almost overnight the energy problems of the world were gone. There was abundant light, heat and electricity within small communities along with the technology to become self-supporting and self-governing. Anti-grav technology completed the isolation by making the world’s ground transport structure obsolete.

All across the Federation streets and highway systems had been torn up and properties sold or allowed to go back to nature. The majority of the world’s population now lived in elaborate complexes complete with local air terminals and food processing plants. They were self-sustaining apartments in self-sustaining complexes in self-sustaining city-states. You could find anything you wanted in your own complex or order it from the ethernet on your home computer. Hologram technology made communication and entertainment effortless. You could attend conferences, work, play games or chat with your friends through the ethernet even if they were on the other side of the world. Advanced technology had finally reached the point where no one really needed to go anywhere.

But here in Old Seattle there were still streets. Tobal had never seen a street before. It was like entering an ancient prehistoric world. In this part of the city there were actually cobblestones that were over two hundred years old. Definitely the old city was pre-Federation. The buildings were separate from each other and built of red brick or concrete. Many of the taller skyscrapers were in a process of structural collapse or in need of repair. It was the smaller buildings built of concrete and steel that seemed immune to the sands of time. They spoke of an era when life had been different, harder and more individualistic.

Ironically it was modern technology that provided the power to support life in these ancient structures. Without the abundant heat and electricity they would have long since been abandoned. It was as if people wanted to play at living in the past while keeping the niceties of the modern world at the same time.

Tobal turned down another street and old apartments loomed up silently on either side like man made canyons. The early morning sun had not made it into these dark canyons yet and he walked in shadow. His boots were muffled by the light snow that lay on the cobblestones. The uneven surface made his footing treacherous and several times he almost fell.

Rounding another corner he almost stepped on a couple of crows intently fighting over a dead animal. They hardly noticed and hopped to one side before resuming their fight over the grisly remains of a rat or a cat. It was hard to tell which.

The street split in two separate directions. A battered sign said Oak Street and 30th Ave. Going left on Oak Street he headed down a street more narrow than the others. It looked like it was not used much any more, but then they all did. Looking back he saw the crows following him. They would fly a short way, stop to watch and then fly again to catch up. Every now and then one would squawk and a fight would erupt leaving loose feathers forgotten on the snow.

Old Seattle was a noted artist’s colony. It was one of the areas where societies fringe element escaped the rigid structure of moderization. Unique products, specialty shops and services both legal and illegal were offered within the little shops that lined the streets. The owners lived above the shops and owned entire buildings. Some of the signs were broken or covered in grime and unreadable. He figured 2424 Oak St. should be a few more blocks up and on the right side of the street. A couple blocks further he found it nestled between an old bakery and a barbershop.

The dilapidated three story red brick building looked worse for wear than it’s neighbors and some of the mortar between the bricks was missing. Tobal questioned the structural integrity of the entire building. A battered sign proclaimed “Antiquities and Curiosities”. The windows on all three stories were covered with wrought iron bars that looked functional as well as ornamental. They suggested what kind of neighborhood this really was and he nervously glanced around him. The crows hopped a little closer. Stepping up to the door he saw he was too early. The closed sign hanging in the window read the shop opened at 8:00. Glancing at his watch, he realized he still had almost two hours to wait.

Leaving the shop, Tobal continued down the street until he came to a small park area and watched the sun rise over the city. He brushed snow off a battered bench and sat listening to the strange early morning sounds of this old city and watching the crows. One large crow actually flew onto the bench and turned its head looking intently at him. Tobal had the eerie feeling that the bird was intelligent. After a half-hour of sitting in the small snow covered park the sun was up and he was thoroughly chilled.

Going back to the coffee and bakery shop he ordered a cup of coffee and a raspberry scone. It was warm inside and he stayed there until 8:00 listening to the locals and watching as they eyed him curiously. If anyone thought it strange to see a dark haired eighteen year old with a scarred face wandering the streets at this time of day they kept it to themselves.

Tobal took his time and enjoyed his breakfast. There was some foot traffic in the morning streets and most of it toward the bakery. Customers would enter; stomp their snow covered boots on the floor, hang their coats or jackets on a stand and sit down to read the local paper or talk with their neighbors. Most of them looked over fifty years old and dressed in outdated clothing. They were not a part of the modern world as Tobal knew it. At 8:00 he paid for his coffee and scone and headed back to the shop.

This time there was an “open” sign hanging in the window. In better light the shop looked like a fortress. The heavy wooden door had metal bands across it for reinforcement. It looked like it could withstand a battering ram. He tested the latch and the door opened silently inward on well oiled hinges. A small bell rang as he entered.

The smell of burning incense and the glow of burning candles was completely unexpected. A dark shag carpet muffled his steps and he sneezed involuntarily as he stirred up some dust. “Antiquities and Curiosities” was not a normal shop in any sense of the term. He gazed around in awe. It was like being in a museum. The shop was large and divided into several sections, each section set up and displayed according to a historical time period.

He had been expecting to see odds and ends of junk that cluttered so many antique shops. Instead each section was divided not by year but by century. There were complete room like displays of furniture, clothing, weaponry, art, games, toys, reading materials and more. Entering into a section was like stepping into a different world.

He stepped into a display about prehistoric cavemen. There was a replica of a cave painting on a rock. The painting and rock looked like they had been hewn out of the back of a cave somewhere. There was a clay bowl and goblet, three flint knives looked sharp and fairly unused. A hand axe had been used to cut chips out of a log lying in the middle of the display. Admiring it, he picked the axe up, hefted it and gave a couple practice swings. There was a primitive energy and vitality about each item that made him instinctively want to pick it up and start using it. He just knew these items had been made to be used.

A female figure was dressed attractively in furs and armed with a bow and quiver of hand made arrows. There was a small pack on her back and a blanket robe of rabbit fur lying on the ground beside her. She had a necklace of brightly colored bird feathers around her neck and there were price tags on each item. His jaw dropped in disbelief as he looked at a few of the price tags. There was a small fortune in this one display alone.

He realized this shop must deal in specialty replicas. Perhaps theater props. Each item was extremely well made and looked real and functional. The clothing, furniture, weapons and even the leather shoes were all obviously hand crafted. Moving to other displays he could see each item of clothing was crudely woven in the old manner, hand stitched and buttons were hand made. He would have believed he was in some type of museum but no museum carried items in such a perfect state of repair and like new condition.

He wandered for an hour looking at various displays and getting an increasingly troubled feeling that something wasn’t right. He could believe one or two displays of meticulous craftsmanship and diversity. There were re-constructionists that studied the old ways of ancient civilizations and tried duplicating them. But this was different. It was as if someone had stepped back into time and brought back these items for sale in this curious shop.

That was absurd of course but the feeling of unease was growing more uncomfortable inside him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that these items were real and that was not possible. He felt a chill go up his spine. These items shouldn’t exist and this store shouldn’t exist. The knowledge and ability to create these things had vanished long ago. No people living today had the knowledge to make these things that were so exquisitely crafted.

This was not an ordinary shop. Dealing in replicas of this quality had to be very expensive and these items very hard to come by. Why would any person in today’s world want to use these old fashioned things or buy them? The only reason Tobal could think of was for theatrical props. In a flash of insight he wondered if Tavistock Educational had purchased theatrical costumes from this place to use at the Halloween dance. He winced and rapidly brought his mind back to the present.

Read Full Post »

Chapter 1

Tobal awoke in the hospital confused and groggy. His muscles ached from being in bed too long. He did not know where he was or what had happened. Gradually memory returned. He groaned and reached his right hand up to touch his face. He felt his entire face covered with gauze and panic began to grip him. Everything was black and he couldn’t see. Desperately he tried sitting up and was reaching up with both hands to rip off the gauze when he felt an arm pushing him gently but firmly back down as an alarm started going off somewhere on his left.

“Take it easy son,” Uncle Harry said pressing him back down into the bed. “You’ve got to rest. You’ve gone through a rough time boy.”

“What happened?” Tobal asked weakly.

“Some young lady almost gouged your eye out,” chuckled his uncle dryly. “She scratched the hell out of your face. Peeled it like an apple. Doc says you are going to have some nasty scars. How did you get her that mad at you anyway?”

“I don’t remember,” Tobal whispered. A flush of heat and embarrassment crept into his face as memory returned, tightening his skin and causing a burst of pain to flash across his face. “I was dancing and bumped into her, then I turned around and her dress tore. The next thing I remember is her clawing at me like a wild animal.”

“I can’t see!” He panicked clutching and tearing at the bandages.

His uncle calmed him down once more pulling his hands away from his face and the bandages.

“Well, it’s the bandages, that’s why you can’t see,” his uncle continued, “there was something on her fingernails, to strengthen them or something and they peeled away some of your skin. We don’t know why but it’s raising hell with the healing process. The doc tried pulling the skin back together and sewing you up but there will be some scarring. It’s going to be awhile before you get healed up. Don’t worry about it, doc says your eye is going to be fine, but it was a close thing and he doesn’t want any infection setting in. You rest now, just lay back and sleep a little more. We’ll talk about it later OK?”

Tobal heard someone move near his uncle and felt something tug at his arm as the nurse injected something into the IV tube fastened to his wrist. He felt a wave of dizziness sweep over him and barely heard the creak of his uncle’s wheelchair as it left the room.

He awoke to the smell of violets in the room.

“It’s about time you woke up,” came Fi’s cheery voice from the edge of the bed.

He moved his head cautiously and opened his left eye. Fi was sitting in a chair near the hospital window. She set down the magazine she had been reading and moved closer.

“How are you doing,” she asked in a concerned tone? “I’ve really been worried about you.”

She reached out and gently touched his arm. He pulled it away. Fi was the last person he wanted to see right now.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “I just woke up.”

He looked around the room for the first time. There were flowers and get well cards. The room felt hot and made his skin itch.

“Is my uncle here?” He asked in a more friendly tone and tried to smile but winced instead.

“Oh,” her hand involuntarily leapt to her mouth. “Are you alright?” She rose out of the chair and came toward the bed with her arms out to enfold him in a hug.

He roughly pushed her away, feeling a pang in his chest and a burning in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he said bitterly. “I just want to be left alone, ok?”

There was a hurt and wounded look in her eyes and the beginning of tears.

“Can I come back later then?” She pleaded. “I’m really sorry about what happened. I came yesterday but you were in surgery and then sleeping. Maybe I can come over to your Uncle’s and we can talk.” She smiled bravely.

“Uncle Harry doesn’t like visitors.” He lied weakly. “Maybe we can get together back at school after Christmas break. How does that sound?”

“Sure, back at school,” she said softly and reached for her purse. Tobal didn’t see the tears in her eyes or hear the break in her voice as she turned away. “Take care of yourself Tobal.”

He watched as she left the room. All he knew was that he wanted to be left alone. It never occurred to him how rude he was being until much later and then it was too late. He never saw Fiona again. He never even said goodbye.

A few hours later Uncle Harry came and took him home to the estate. In the weeks that followed he got cards, letters and emails from his friends and schoolmates, invitations to parties and dances. He threw them all away without bothering to even look at them. It was vain and shallow but he had always depended on his looks. Now he felt afraid and unsure of himself. He didn’t know how his friends would react when they saw him. He hadn’t seen his own face yet and he was not sure that he wanted to.

Thanksgiving came and went. There was no real celebration in the Kane household unless it was a private celebration held by the staff. His uncle was an embittered cripple and widower confined to a wheelchair. It was only Tobal’s injury and depression that prompted his uncle’s apparent interest now.

Tobal knew that it would not last. Uncle Harry was his only living relative. His parents were dead and he had no brothers or sisters. There was a time he had felt much closer to his uncle but that was long ago. It seemed Uncle Harry was as preoccupied as Tobal was.

“I don’t understand what the Federation wants with a cripple,” he snarled at dinner.

Lt. Col. Harry Kane was being re-activated and he was not happy about it. “I need to go away for a few days and see what they want. Can you handle things around here by yourself? Maybe you could have some friends over. How bout that girl friend of yours?”

Tobal squirmed uncomfortably and felt his face flush with heat. “We, ah, broke up,” he said lamely.

His uncle snorted in disgust. “Well suit yourself.” He turned and wheeled himself out of the room. “I’ve got to get ready.”

Three days later his uncle returned and Tobal hardly recognized him. Overnight his uncle looked ten years older. His shoulders were more stooped and bags had formed under his eyes giving him a haunted look. It didn’t take long to realize his uncle was avoiding him. The tension in the house was unbearable.

Other times Tobal tried to deliberately avoid his uncle. As the days passed he never knew if his uncle was in the house or called away on some important military business and he hardly cared. They had never been that close. His only curiosity over the years had been how a simple Federation Officer had managed the nearly impossible feat of enrolling him in Tavistock Educational.

One day he asked his uncle at dinner about it. “It was what your parents would have wanted,” was all uncle Harry would say. Tobal never knew if his parents had moved in such high circles or if it was his uncle. It never seemed important before. He didn’t know why it seemed so important now. All he knew was he didn’t want to go back.

He dreaded the coming of Christmas because it marked his return to school. That was his truth. The weeks passed with several trips to the doctor and still he was not allowed to see his face or remove the bandages on his own. There seemed to be some problem with the healing process although he was told there was nothing to worry about.

It didn’t seem right and he worried about it. He took long walks in the bitter cold to get his mind off things. His uncle’s estate was just a few clicks north of New Rome. New Rome was a city-state in what had once been central Minnesota. It was an area with many lakes and lots of privacy. The privacy came with a big price tag. Again Tobal wondered at the source of his uncle’s obvious wealth.

This time of year the lake was frozen over and he took long walks on the snow and ice. Bundling up against the bitter cold wind helped him forget his face was covered with bandages. Feeling the painful cold in his fingers helped him forget the painful lacerations on his face. With his uncle gone most of the time he was pretty much left to his own devices and he liked being outdoors.

There was something fresh and clean about being alone and outdoors that gave him comfort. The ice and snow crunched loudly under his boots and the sun glared brightly. Today there were sun dogs on either side of the sun with a rainbow arch partly visible. His breath came out in clouds and burned a bit in his lungs. He turned off the lake and headed toward the stables. He had been spending a lot of time there lately and liked working with the horses. They were better company than his old friends were and they didn’t care about how he looked.

As Tobal moved away from human contact he turned more and more to the silent companionship of animals and nature. If his uncle noticed he never said anything and neither did any of the staff.

By Christmas Eve he was fretting and fingering the bandages on his face, itching to tear them off. He’d been instructed to leave them on one final week and today was the day they came off. With trembling fingers he went into the bathroom, found surgical scissors and began cutting the layers of gauze away from his face. He was tired of looking like a mummy. The gauze wanted to stick to his skin and he felt pain as he gently tugged at it, lifting the last of it carefully off his right eye. The bright bathroom light stabbed into his eye and sharp blinding pain flashed through his head.

He closed his eyes against the pain and waited until it faded away. His fingers touched the newly healed skin and he carefully opened his eyes and looked into the mirror.

Read Full Post »