THIRTY: the City

Arous could make out the City on the horizon.

It was late in the afternoon.  She had been driving all day but felt as if she’d been driving for years.  Scattered and tattered houses began to get closer together as she neared The City.  She slowed down so that she could drive with the top down on her hoveh. Now that she was close to the City, she could let the auto-nav take control. The electromagnetic pull of the City would keep her moving in the right direction. She let off the gas, let go of the wheel, and pushed the button.  The hoveh clicked and hummed and the ceiling retreated.

It was dusty.  The sun was warm; she felt its heat as the cover retreated.

As she passed houses she noticed people in their front yards.  Dogs. Children. A bush or two.  No trees.  Once she took the hoveh drop off Plateau’s Edge she hadn’t seen a tree. The last one was a weeping willow on the bluff before she took the drop to the dessert.  She was pretty sure the willow wasn’t even real.

The City was known for the splendid gateposts that framed its entrance.  Decades ago the gateposts had to be moved further apart and the swinging gates had to be renovated to make the way wider.  The gates now retracted into the walls instead of swinging out.  The City was almost never closed now.  It never slept.

The road into the City served twenty lanes of traffic. Six lanes were intended for pre-millennial wheeled automobiles and hover mobiles whereas the remaining fourteen were for coaches and horses. A sronf (senseless repaving over natural footpaths – the “f” is silent) is raised about ½ foot off the ground and paved with a hard sand mixture. It is for pedestrians and on the outer edges of both sides of the highway.

Through the twenty-first century and into the twenty-second, technology advanced at an astounding rate.  Soon nation merged with nation, city with city.  Then some states became independent countries, cities becoming independent states or provinces.  It was all very confusing.  Men could not stop plotting and fighting for who would be the first to make a breakthrough on this gadget or that. It became more about things and less about land and peoples and even less about right and wrong.  The merging trade-markets set the social world on its ear.  Enemies became colleagues willing and able to share their knowledge of bits and bytes, widgets and wares. 

The Arous thought back to the story that her and Edlawit had written detailing how everything had changed.

            She had embraced that story.  All those creatures who were released from the chains of fear.  She had believed it was wonderful and that everyone else thought so too.

            Last night was eye-opening.  The Diofe had told her that the world outside the Bowl was different.

            Why? she asked herself.  What will happen to me?

            “I don’t know, Arous,” I said back to her.  “Be careful.  Remember that everyone is not your friend.  Find your mother and come right back.”

            “Please,” said Edlawit.

            Then Arous shut us out. We’d have to wait until her guard was down to hold her to the light again.  She was strong willed. It was going to be a challenge.

            “What do we do? Just wait until she gets back?” asked Edlawit.

            “No,” I said.  “We’ll have to use Arcadia and that cat that reached out to you.  We’ll have to make sure he finds her. It’s a good thing she dropped the dot.  We can see through Simon and through Lady Grey. They’ve both touched it.”

            “Miguel,” she said. “It just doesn’t feel right, spying on her.”

            “Edwi,” I said. “You don’t have to spy on her.  Just try to get through to her, hold her to the light, walk to her in the light. We’ve seen part of her future, a possibility.  We’re the only ones you can guide her through this safely.”