Harmonics: Rise of the Magician (Harmonics Series Season One)

by Chris Snelgrove

  Focus, Samantha!!

  Sam refocused, her attention locking on to the holographic screen projection a half-meter in front of her, trying to find the place where she had left off.

  Decades after the recession of the early 21st century, the difference between the exceedingly poor and ridiculously rich was so great the world entered a Post Industrialization Feudal Age. Now the rich are disgustingly rich and the poor have become the exclusive and sole responsibility of the government.

  Sam stopped, making a mental note. She needed less personality in the essay, less of the incendiary adjectives. She could almost smell the attitude. Sam continued to read.

  The transformation of the world economy occurred after World War III broke out. The war started when extremists in the Central Eastern countries, or modern day New Nicrawmini, attacked their longtime Zionist rivals or modern day Esai. The war lasted ten years, eventually engulfing all the major world players, and exacted a cost of over three billion lives and forty percent of the livable land in the world.

  The end of the war brought the rise of two new super powers. The United Western Collective, or the super-government made up of the old United States of America, Canada, Mexico, and South and Central America, and the Jade Empire, made up of the old European Union states and many Asian countries. The next 50 years produced a cold war like the people of Earth had never seen, creating a landscape where the rich got richer and the poor were taken care of by the newly established conglomerate governments. Now there are very few in-betweeners, or people of the middle class. Not to say they are totally gone. The rich would never let that happen, as there has to be someone that buffers the poor from the rich in the world. In my town, that is where Partial Palace comes in. Partial Palace is where I live, and I believe it should be dismantled as a matter of public policy.

  Sam shook her head; she had slipped into the first person again. She hated when she did that.

  Thousands of other communities like Partial Palace can be found in every town in the United Western Collective. My community is located in the middle of T. Tracks in Academy City 676, in the State of Bush.

  Sam stared at the passage. There was more to this place, a more expressive description, a deeper and livelier introduction, but really it was more or less the same as most other UWC towns. Further description probably wasn't needed; it would just create unnecessary clutter.

  Sam took her finger and with a few quick strikes she erased the last sentence. Ms. Diablo wasn't going to like that description; it was just too boring. Sam would have to change that later.

  The T. Tracks aren't really tracks as their name suggests. There might have been real tracks on this particular stretch of land at some point, but ever since the advent of cellular bio-fuel and cold-fusion transport, the bullet trains of the 22nd century were bound to fail. Now, where 150 years ago a train might have once traveled, there is a park that would embarrass the old United States National Park, Yellowstone. The park is complete with a lake as deep and blue as a ship-sinking glacier and hybrid trees tens of years old that shadow the vast expanse of lush grass, flowers, and other vegetation.

  Beauty came at a price, however. In truth, this park that the townsfolk call T. Tracks has a single purpose: It divides the high part of town from the low part, High Tracks and Low Tracks, or the really rich and the quite poor. In all actuality, T. Tracks acts like a barrier to any who might venture out of their station. The park thus becomes a scene of serenity but also a symbol of division.

  Sam highlighted this sentence. She liked that one; it had some great imagery.

  The T. Tracks and other landmarks like it are not out of the ordinary in government cities like this one. In fact it is not that much different from every other Academy City in the Collective. This similarity comes from their purpose of policing mandatory education from 6 to 18 years of age throughout the Western Collective.

  Sam made another note; she needed to add United before Western Collective.

  This Academy city, which like most Academy cities is about 85% students, holds one major difference. The preconceived roles of the rich class and the poor class are less embraced among the student body. In a sharp contrast, other Academy Cities across the Great Collective have socio-economic strife, or fighting within their student population. But here in Academy City 676, it isn't all that bad being poor. The government pays for just about everything from healthcare, school, food, and housing, to entertainment. Practically name it and the government takes care of it. While everything isn't roses and butterflies, for the most part the residents of Academy City 676 have their needs met. This, in my opinion, is probably the reason that people here are a bit more accepting of the Post War Feudal System. The aftermath of the war created needs, not wants. People needed for so long they forgot how to want. Now that it's been years since the end of the war, the residents of the world, excluding a select few, still haven't remembered how to want, and in my opinion that is where the problem is found.

  In Academy City 676, a person's social position or socioeconomic status, whether you are from High Tracks or Low Tracks, determines everything about them. What classes they take, who they sit with at the lunch table, the people who they talk to, everything. It is for this reason that living in Partial Palace leaves uncertainty where conformity should have resided. And as anyone from Partial knows all too well, there are few things worse than uncertainty. Being from Partial makes me very uncertain, as I have no real place where I belong. I'm not accepted by either the High or Low tracks crowds. There is just me.

  Sam reread the paper, fixing the punctuation as she did. She would probably have to change that last portion. It sounded sort of whiny.

  She took a deep cleansing breath as she walked artfully through rays of early morning light. Sam could already see the revisions she would make later. She was never very good at these writing assignments. That was why she had to –

  Her concentration broke as a buzzing scream rent the peace of the morning, splintering the calm in a stab of noise. The abrupt change stopped Sam dead in her tracks, her adrenaline heightening her senses. She spun around, searching for the source of the noise, the scream fading in and out, going quiet and loud, quiet and loud, over and over again until any semblance of rational thought felt like a distant memory. The sound burned with fire, skimming the surface of her brain and scorching her calm. Sam tuned into the burn as words, some jumbled and confused, others twisting in somewhat coherent patterns, jumped to the forefront of her thoughts while strange companion emotions pushed at her own emotional core. Sam's eyes went blurry as a tingling sensation took over. Her vision grew dark.

  Then blackness closed in…closed in until…until…the nip of the breeze startled her. Her eyelids fluttered and she scanned her surroundings, taking in the light of the yawning sun and the shadows of the springtime trees. Nothing seemed out of place, not a single indication of what had just happened or why.

  Sam paused in her contemplation and whispered to herself just to make sure she wasn't dreaming. "What on earth was that? What just happened?"

  Sam tried to collect her thoughts, but the questions kept running laps around the track of her mind. It was all so fuzzy. She grasped at a thing, something. She wasn't even sure what it was. For some odd reason, she couldn't seem to remember.

  "HEY SAM, SNAP OUT OF IT!"

  Sam whipped around, going for the gas-blaster in her bag.

  "Whoa!" said a cute Latina girl with crunchy brown hair. "I am so going to sue you if you gas-blast me."

  Sam's finger relaxed off the button as she slackened her grip. "Oh Cammie, it's only you." She gave Cammie a small shove. "Why were you yelling like that? You scared the church out of me."

  "'The church out of you?'" Cammie grinned thoughtfully. "Maybe I should scare you more often. I could use more church in my life."

  "You mean more morality."

  Cammie shrugged. "Don't get so like, wrapped up in the details, Sam. Besides, you are in no place to talk about moral
s. Hello! You totally almost gas-blasted me. Me! Your best friend! Do you have any idea how bad that stuff is for your skin?"

  Sam put her fingers to the bridge of her nose, squeezing the pressure point there. "So let me get this straight. I almost gas-blast you and you're worried about whether it negatively affects your skin?"

  Cammie nodded vigorously. "Love is a battlefield, Sam. Don't ever forget it."

  Sam paused. "Uh…what are you talking about? Wait--never mind. I don't really want to know. Back to the gas blast – how would you know what it's like to be gas blasted? This doesn't have something to do with your restraining order, does it?"

  Cammie scowled. "You set one tree on fire because a boy breaks up with you and you're branded for life."

  Sam laughed. "You're lucky all your dad was able to pull some strings and get you probation."

  Cammie sighed dramatically. "Ahh, no one understands me."

  Sam placed her hand on Cammie's shoulder. "It's rough being you, isn't it?"

  "Of course, being a diva is tough stuff. Ok, sidebar conversation."

  Sam rolled her eyes. She hated it when Cammie called a sidebar conversation; it usually meant that she was about to go off.

  "Samantha OMGWB, what are you wearing? I thought we talked about this. No more frumpy jeans and formless shirts. What happen to the Liquid Light sundress I gave you?"

  At this Cammie rolled the hem of her own strategically placed skirt. Cammie wasn't the cutest girl on the planet but she made up for it with sense and style. She could dress for her body type like no other person Sam knew.

  "Cammie, I've explained this ten times to you already. Samantha," Sam pointed at herself, "isn't like that. Those sort of threads don't look good on me. They--they just aren't me."

  "Um, the two boys staring at you with 'stalker eyes' on Friday seemed to indicate otherwise. Besides, that red high-cut Jadian quju was a hot little number. Even the store manager was gawking, and I'm pretty sure he's gay!"

  Sam rolled her eyes. "He's not gay Cammie, just really happy."

  "Uh, I wasn't aware there was a difference." Cammie dipped her head, leveling her gaze at Sam's chest. "Sam, you're trying to be more feminine, remember? Well, at least you're wearing a bra today."

  Cammie reached out and gave Sam a squeeze before she could react. Sam squealed in surprise, slapping Cammie's hand as her face blushed scarlet. She glared with her arms crossed over her chest. "Pervert."

  Cammie grinned. "Well, if the shoe fits--"

  "Then buy the whole store."

  "You sure are pissy today. Is it that time of the month?"

  "Yes, the time of the month when I need a new best girl friend."

  Cammie looked at her, scandalized. "I thought I was your best friend. Oh don't tell me that Dick beat me out."

  "Don't call him Dick, and yes he did beat you out because he doesn't fashion grope me on a regular basis."

  Cammie's expression soured. "Only because he doesn't have the guts to."

  "Cammie, you're impossible."

  A squelching noise, like the sound a cat might make if it was drowning, reoriented Sam's thoughts. That weird noise that had assaulted her… She had been trying to figure out where it had come from.

  She leveled her gaze at Cammie, who was busy entering her Vii Space page. Sam spoke quickly, knowing that the social site would completely destroy any chance she might have to talk to her friend. Well, face-to-face at least.

  "Moving on from Richard, why haven't you said anything about that screeching noise a few minutes ago? It's not like you to just ignore an unexplained phenomenon. It might have been aliens you know."

  "Ha-ha-ha Sam, everyone knows that aliens only attack at night and they don't scream. Nice try. If you are going to make fun of me at least make it a bit more--Ashley, OMGWB I can't be-li-eve he asked you…"

  Sam stopped listening. Cammie was in Vii Space now; she was gone for the time being, causing their walk to come to a dead stop.

  Stupid social cloud. What a waste of time, thought Sam as she looked out over the water, watching the waves ripple. She sighed heavily. "Richard, where are you when I need you?"

  A glare from the water caught her attention. An unnatural shine seemed to move with her. The light, which was of a curiously soft nature, deteriorated immediately, leaving only a glowing trail. Sam stepped away from Cammie, venturing towards the edge of the lake. A few feet from the bank, settled low in the clear water, sat a shimmering metal box. Sam studied the box from the shore.

  "Now what on earth are you?" she said, squinting in an attempt to make out the box. A few minutes passed in idle contemplation until Sam made a decision.

  "All righty then," she said, speaking aloud. "Into the water we go."

  Sam removed her shoes and socks, pulled her pant cuffs up as high as they would bunch, then moved cautiously into the water. She neared her target, the water coming up much higher than she had originally anticipated. The box was right in front of her, but she didn't know if she wanted to spend the rest of the day drenched. A brief spell of calm water momentarily gave Sam an unimpeded view of the box. She again considered her options.

  You're already here, she thought. Might as well…

  Sam leaned over into the water and barely made contact when--"Sam! What on earth are you doing?"

  The call startled her, and without further preamble Sam slipped and – splash!

  Sam, now completely wet, came up out of the water holding the box in her hand.

  "Sam, are you ok?" Cammie came rushing to her side barely able to control her laughter as Sam stomped onto the marshy grass. "Why on earth did you go in the lake?"

  Sam shook her mane of matted hair and held up the box. "Wanted to see what this was."

  Cammie laughed again. "Nice Sam, a tin box. How dumb can you be?"

  "Thanks a lot Cammie, that was really sweet."

  Cammie's eyes went wide and innocent. " Uh, I'm pretty sure it's not my fault you decided to go for a mid-morning swim." Cammie looked Sam up and down, lingering on her soppy clothes and water logged hair. "Though I have to admit, Sammie, I think it's an improvement."

  Sam scowled and pushed past Cammie, who scrambled after her.

  "Hey come on Sam, it was just a joke," said Cammie, attempting to sound contrite. "Sorta."

  Sam had already had enough of this day and the stupid thing had barely started. Falling on her butt in the lake was a bad omen. She was going home to shower and hide under the covers. A whispered conversation directly behind her told Sam that even as Cammie was following her, she was back on Vii Space. Oh how Sam hated that –

  "Samantha!" called Cammie, sounding more than a little excited. "Weren't you supposed to meet Dick this morning?"

  Sam came to an abrupt halt, cursing her luck. "Yeah, I'm supposed to be feeding the ducks with Richard. Crap! He's going to be so mad at me. I've got to get home and change."

  "I don't think he's thinking about that right now sweetie." Cammie slid her fingers across her screen. The display reacted, enlarging and reversing a vid for Sam to see.

  Sam put a weary hand to her forehead. "Oh no, not again." She turned on her heel. "Come on, Cammie. We have to stop this before someone gets hurt!"

  Cammie rolled her eyes. "What? Sam, do we really have to do this? Again? It's just a couple of pics and some vids, no big deal."

  "If they get carried away, he could die, Cammie!" screamed Sam as she turned and started to run in her sopping clothes.

  "You're overreacting as usual, Sam. He'll be just fine. He always is." Cammie walked reluctantly after her, mumbling in a low voice, "And even if he did die at least he wouldn't make you late all the time."

  "I heard that Cammie!"

  Cammie cracked a smile. "Why can you always hear me, Sam?" She shrugged to herself, hurrying to catch up to Samantha.

  The Lion and the Lamb

  Time: Current day, early morning

  Scene: T. Tracks Park

  "Come on Dick, you're going to have to do
better than that if you don't want me to flatten your fat face!"

  Sam could hear the taunting before she could see what was happening. She had run all the way to the T. Track's Hamster Wheel, which was really just a cute way of saying playground equipment. A huge multi-story castle of a jungle gym, which included towers, walkways, and battlements, was only one part of the Hamster Wheel's amenities. The park, affectionately called Camelot, was a place that many of the older Academy City 676 residents liked to gather in those rare moments of free time. This tendency to congregate almost guaranteed that if there was something interesting happening, they could get the deets at the base of Camelot.