by Jack Vantage
Dylan stepped in, turned and stood next to the kid. The door sealed, and the users ascended toward the monorail platform above. Dylan looked to the kid. “Nice board.”
The youngster looked up with imaginative eyes. “Had it new today. Going to Central Park six with it,” he replied like the board was the first present he’d ever received. “Going to fly some air.”
“Wish I could join you. I remember my first day on one. Where’s your safety gear?”
“Who needs them? They just cramp my style.”
The kid smiled up happily at Dylan as the elevator stopped and the door rolled open. The boy tossed the board in front of him, jumped onto it, and surfed air along the platform. Comic strips leapt from his clothes with a holographic effect at every turn of his body.
Dylan exited and stepped into the enormous, closed triangular prism station. The walls were a smoothly speckled marble surface. They reached overhead for ninety meters. Hundreds of Quazarians awaited along the edge of the hundred-metre platform, either side of the track of the overhead central monorail. The monorail tracks floated mid-air with tiny gravity engines holding them in place.
A female announcer addressed the commuters with a monotonous, echoing effect. “Next rail service will be arriving shortly, monorail number 23764. Would all passengers kindly enter the rail in an orderly fashion? Thank you!”
Multitudes of Quazarians moved to the edge of the platform, eager to make the rail. Dylan spotted an opening in the bodies and stepped through to the lip of the platform. He looked to the right. A wall of people ran the length of the platform, an effect that was mirrored on the opposite side.
The triangular doors of the building opened. They split triangularly and pivoted outwards like a Chinese hand fan opening. Each door segment overlapped the next as they slid open. A breeze of Quazar air ran through the station.
The curved blue, bullet-like monorail sped in. It whooshed passed Dylan a foot away, then slowed suddenly and stopped. The doors parted and revealed two silver bars inside at head height, the inescapable credit readers.
Dylan entered with a click from them and looked for a free seat through the standing commuters that held onto the provided overhead bars. There were none available. He stood beside a middle-aged man whose attention was buried in a Quazar digital newspaper.
Dylan looked down and nosed at the news reports that read under the mini-vids. Like tiny screens, the videos played on digital paper that was able to read a digital binary code and materialise it onto the digital paper.
The news headline read Fifty Thousand Join Quazar, while the video showed a cigar-shaped grey galactic ship touching down at the galactic pad located at the South Pole. Its downward thrusters blasted an indigo flame as it gently lowered. A thousand windows covered its complex body like pin pricks. The papers named Quazar Report headed the page in bold red writing. The date Thursday—December 31, 5999—was scribed in small font underneath.
The monorail moved and zipped from the station. Dylan looked from the window and viewed the astounding organ horn like buildings, that curved the skyline, and the circular barrier of Central Capital 8. The closer the monorail approached, the bigger the monstrous buildings became, as they obscured the internal city structures with their wave of height. Some of the building’s tips were obscured as they pierced a thin blanket of fluffy clouds that had collected above the city in sporadic clusters. Millions of tinted dark windows, on the sides of the buildings, glistened in the morning’s sun up each building’s height, and they reflected off one another.
Airborne vehicles on the Super sky-ways condensed through the narrow building gaps, entering the city centre like an army of flying ants. Monorails dangled from their tracks, winding through the traffic with safe passage and into the city, both between and through the giant tubular and massive outer walled buildings.
The monorail closed in on one of the buildings, and suddenly entered it. Thousands of commuters whizzed by the window as they stood on their platform.
The guy reading the newspaper got up beside Dylan and so did the commuter next to him. He left the newspaper behind. Dylan picked it up as he slipped into the free seat and moved window side. He opened the digital paper to the second page where a mini-vid played an image of two football helmets crashing together in an explosion. The left green helmet had a nucleus with a proton and neutron circling, while the right-hand helmet had a spiral galaxy rotating. Underneath the mini-vid an article headline read The Atomic Charges v The Stellar Warriors tonight 8pm Channel 1024. Also, a stunning blonde beauty, with pert voluptuous breasts that sprung from a tight jacket as she opened it, graced the third page. Dylan could almost touch them with the 3D effect, as she cheekily smiled.
The monorail moved towards the inner city and Dylan peered from the window as it left the platform. The inner city was lower than the surrounding outer buildings, which formed a circle with a thirty-mile radius like castle walls.
The buildings of the inner city were a maze of clustered styles, a grid of design. Dylan could see the governmental buildings at the far horizon, vistas of beauty that held the economic and political super structure. Ten close-quartered skyscrapers stood a thousand meters high, in a collage of coloured styles. The front three buildings resembled ancient Greek Corinthian columns. The rear buildings, a paradise of glass and curves, looked down upon them with mega structural design, their skeletal external frame criss-crossing their body.
“Dylan Ajax!” Vince Cane said as he plopped down beside him.
Dylan recognised the dilatorily sluggish Quazar voice without looking.
“Hey Vince. Did you do what I told you to?”
The gormless dweb sat beside him fidgeting. Every other day the boy would ride on the same rail. Once a week they were close enough to talk, which usually involved Dylan teasing him and his mildly challenged mentality.
Vince replied proudly, “Didn’t I? I kicked him right in the balls. He was screaming as I ran away.”
Dylan smiled at him. “He will leave you alone now, I swear. It works every time.”
Vince flicked his fingers in a gesture of coolness, although it never worked for him. “Sucker!”
Dylan looked from the window. The monorail dropped under the city’s peaks and into the structural labyrinth of Central Capital 8. Super skyways intensified under the city’s skyline peaks, with a mere hundred feet between each skyway level. Monorails moved from and through buildings. Symmetrical block after symmetrical block whizzed by. Dylan enjoyed the hectic pace of inner-city life. It moved with intricately controlled complexity in a crazed hyperactive dance. Advertising boards, videos, and projections decorated buildings with dazzling confusion. Thousands of sky-cabs, with their distinct yellow and black striped colours, zipped around like an unformed military parade. Various styled sky-bikes skimmed the edges of highways, the quickest but most dangerous form of transport in the Quazar sky. Industrial sky-trucks muscled the air with their bouncing cargos trailing, and a million other styled sky-mobiles moved in confused unison. Sporty mobiles with square bodies, curved bodies, aeronautical bodies, and bubbled bodies zipped the inner-city air. Some were designed to look fierce while some were designed to be family friendly.
“When you can fly, you can pick me up. Too bad you failed last week,” Vince said.
“Vince, if I pass next time I’ll fly straight over. With a back seat full of babes just for you.”
Vince nodded to the window. “Just don’t do something stupid.”
Authoritarian vehicles prowled the skyways, waiting to catch a speeder, a dangerous driver, or an illegal worker in their black, blue, and white coloured mobiles. Many hovered at building corners with predatorial patience. Their bodies shaped a chunky square design. They observed the higher city with hawk eyes and were trained to spot a criminal from miles away. Twenty-four hours a day, in the city, there were approximately a million guards on duty.
“What you got today?” Dylan said.
“I got science. Get to
blow things up. Cool.”
“Today is always my favourite day of the week.”
Today’s first period was Chemistry, then Physics, then Numeric Understanding, and finally Biotechnology, although the last period was a rudimentary introduction to the subject. He had to decide by the end of the year whether he wished to pursue it at a higher level.
Vince said, “I wish I had data periods with you, Dylan. You’re a good friend.”
Dylan smiled. “Maybe one day.” He handed the Digi-paper to Vince, who took it and read in silence. “Don’t look at the women and remember stay away from women on the E-Network, you know what happened last time.”
“I’m still grounded.”
The final view of the inner city, before arriving at the data building, was always the huge image of President Malcolm Junior with his famous gestured arms skyward, index fingers pointing, and the smile of power dressed in a suave suit. The advert clung to the top of a sky-blue square structure, its slogan reading Help Me Help You.
The monorail lifted past the sign and once again slipped above the skyline of the inner city which revealed the data building. It was a massive super-structure that had been built atop an inner-city glass skyscraper. Its name was Elysees, with its Victorian design in the shape of the letter E. Its decorative roof shone a deep blue under the morning light. Around the building, yards and parks buzzed with intaker’s who prepared for their morning start. Tennis, hockey courts, football pitches, and hilly golfing areas connected around the main building with a coloured collage of patterns.
Every morning Dylan walked the four hundred metre walkway to the front entrance of Elysees, eager to start his Intake. He was fascinated by science. In fact, he was only interested in science. Every morning, as he made the short journey to the building, his life beckoned him. What did he want to do? Or what kind of scientist did he want to become? Where would his work, should he decide to pursue science, take him? Like a blind man walking the earth with cane in hand, Dylan had yet to see what science would offer him, where it would guide him, and ultimately how would it support him. Dylan had two years to decide, which he’d learnt disappeared in a blink of the eye.
The building itself was made of super light steel covered with a white, stone-like material that replicated the Victorian Era. Renaissance-styled windowed archways curved across the front of the building, with florescent ultra-violet lights igniting them.
To the left of the long, paved walkway that lead to the buildings entrance, a sky-mobile landing area teemed with life.
Sky-mobiles, sky-bikes, and sky-cabs landed and lifted off in an orderly fashion.
“Not a word Vince.”
To the right of the walkway was a half-pipe, where Quazar youths crazed on hover-boards. A horde of intaker’s exercised on the thirty-foot wide, graffiti-patterned pipe. They surfed, somersaulted, twisted, turned, and leapt into the sky from the pipe. Crowds of grungy intaker’s, with their baggy trousers, aggressive skulled holo-shirts and coloured, unmade hair, circled the half-pipe. They mingled in the morning sun, themselves casting a shadowed shade with their dark attire.
The Elysees multicultural aurora moved around the building with perpetual youth. The monorail dipped and pulled into the platform.
“I need to get to the library, I got an essay I haven’t finished. Its due in an hour. See you later Dylan.” Vince said. He pushed past people and was at the door as they opened.
Dylan pulled out and touched his communicator’s screen, which activated his holographic avatar. The avatar was a funky, quirky, smurfie fellow who stretched from the device with arms spreading above his head and a white beard dangling limply. It stood akimbo with menu options between his opened arms.
Dylan scrolled the options, which moved the air between the avatar’s arms. The No Missed Call sign appeared, and he flicked the communicator locked.
He slipped his silver slimline headphones on from within his pocket and pressed Play on his music communicator as he moved towards the doors. He was going to be someone one day. He just needed to work hard and take advantage of the best free service society had to offer. Education.
Chapter 3
The Dreaded First Day
Her mind wound with worry, already Lecodia Ale felt enmeshed in the planet’s size and height with disquiet awe. It was her first day of Intake, and only her second week on Quazar. She felt like an outcast, an outsider, and an un-welcomed visitor. Nerves. Just handle the nerves!
The data distributor’s office was small, and Lecodia sat at Miss Ellen’s black reflective metallic desk. A small video communication port was positioned on the left. Miss Ellen sat in front of her wearing a green blouse. She had a mousey face, bun-brown hair, and beady eyes that looked over Lecodia with prying interest. Behind her, shelves of books were stacked in rows of hundreds.
“Welcome, Lecodia. Please don’t worry. And please take your time to get used to this world,” Miss Ellen said. She reached over the desk and delicately touched Lecodia’s hand.
Lecodia said, “I’m fine. Like you said, I just need a little time to adapt to this place.”
Her nerves would disappear with time. She hoped that would happen sooner rather than later.
Miss Ellen said, “Over the next month we will be showing you around the building and the many Intake periods that are available here. We’ll take it one step at a time. When you feel ready and know what periods you would like to specialise in, we’ll formally enrol you and your Intake will begin. Until then, just take it all in, think about what you want, and please don’t fear the way of life. When you get used to it, it really is the best place.”
Lecodia thought she’d prepared herself for this. While travelling here she underwent psychological preparation, learning about the world, its structure, and the people. Being born aboard a galactic ship was a rare thing, as she was taught from a young age, and she spent her junior days light years away from any civilisation other than the one on the ship. She was taught from books uploaded into her dorm’s computer, and at junior Intake periods that educated her on the essential subjects and the history of Quazar. She remembered the excitement she and her parents had while looking at the images and videos of Quazar and the Quazar people. Then it felt like a vicarious dream to her, but now it was an engulfing reality that had changed her life.
Living on board a galactic ship never bothered Lecodia like it did so many other people. The trip lasted thirty years from Earth and she was born twelve years into the journey. Her parents consistently apologised to her for leaving Earth but felt that her life would be better on Quazar. She found it easy on board with forty thousand people to share her time with. The ship was also equipped with everything a young girl needed.
“I understand, Miss Ellen. I’m so excited about it. Seeing so many intaker’s has cheered me up, but I am a little scared.”
“We will keep an eye on you at all times until you settle in, and we will make sure you’re making friends. Travelling through deep space like you have for so long, can take some time to get over. We understand what you’re going through. Now you can start enjoying yourself. You can consider this place your home. Welcome to the planet, where air is free and constant.”
“I will find friends and begin to have fun, I’m good at that. I have been dreaming of this since a young age, and the virtual rooms on board the ship were very realistic. It did feel like I visited other places.”
“With your looks you’ll have no problem, and I can see you are an extrovert just from our short discussion. I can also see that you’ll have boys all over you, if they’re brave enough to approach your beauty.”
Lecodia smiled with mischievous femininity. If there was one thing she knew how to control, it was the male. While aboard the galactic ship she was the hottest girl around, and she knew it. She would tease her male friends with her well-worked figure and lead the ones she didn’t like on to a let-down. Many a times she would be branded a bitch, but secretly revelled in her success of getting the ri
se she was looking for.
Lecodia was well-trained in the art of manipulating boys and winning over the ones she liked. She was self-aggrandizing, self-assured, and at times self-centred, and always she played the queen bee. She often thought about her bad girl image and always arrived at the same conclusion. It’s hotter being bad, her ravenous body a deadly weapon of seduction.
She would settle in here and find a group of girls, none quite as attractive as she, to lead and spend time with. She would be well-known around the university. Her character and looks would be whispered around the building like a star through the tabloids, with the right approach and introduction to key successful intaker’s. Lecodia prided herself on being a driven girl intent on becoming an intelligent, powerful woman. The kind of woman men feared before melting in her hands when she rubbed them the right way.
“Do you have any idea yet as to what you would like to be?” Miss Ellen asked.
“I have asked the same question over and over, Miss Ellen. As yet I am undecided, but I promise to have it nailed after the introduction to the various data intakes.” Her eyes formed an innocent stare.
Miss Ellen would never guess she was a clever beauty who used her assets to her advantage. Miss Ellen would think she was young good girl who listened to mum and always behaved herself, the sweet and innocent type. If only she knew!
“It sounds like you know what you are doing, and what is to come. A word of advice—work hard and make the most out of your time here. It will be invaluable. Have fun and explore the world.”
“I will. My parents plan on taking me to a few locations when the data holidays start. We plan to see sights all around the globe.”
“Good, good,” Miss Ellen said. She sat back in her chair. “There are a few ground rules to abide by in this building. No smoking on the grounds. If caught, it is an instant two-day suspension. No petting around the hallways or classrooms at any time. Keep it for outside if you get a boyfriend.”