As Mason stood up there were one or two polite claps that only served to accentuate how many people didn’t clap. He didn’t seem fazed in the least as he made his way to the fireplace. Turning slowly he seemed to grow larger and meaner as he prepared to speak.
“Many of you will DIE tonight!” He yelled. Catching everyone off guard Mason ran and jumped onto the nearest table spilling mugs and un-cleared plates into the laps of the table’s occupants. “‘Many of you will die tonight’ is the last thing the Pirates of Macao heard as they tied Captain Holly to the mast.”
And with that Mason held the room in the palm of his hand. He told the tale of Captain Holly in the Orient better than Tressa had ever heard it before. Mason strode up and down the tabletop and lunged from one table to the other. He spun around at one point, jumped to the ground and snatched up a stalk of wildflowers from the fireplace. Brandishing it as a sword during the opening battle scene he swung it back and forth making Tall Tom and Young Matthew duck so they wouldn’t lose their heads.
Twenty minutes later when he got to the part about Captain Holly rescuing the fair Lady Elizabeth from the pirate king, several people heard Old Herbert blow his nose and then they caught him drying his eyes on a cloth. The room exploded with applause as Mason took Big Mary’s hand and kissed it lightly as Captain Holly gracefully returned Lady Elizabeth to her family and disappeared forever.
When order was restored Fergus stood and suggested a few minutes pause before Tressa told her story so the small crowd could gather themselves. In reality, he knew Mason would be a hard act to follow and wanted to give Tressa a little separation from Mason’s perfectly presented story.
Tressa went outside for some air and to try and calm her nerves. As she had listened to his story Mason had gotten better and better while she felt herself shrinking inside more and more. “How will I ever compete with that?” she wondered. “My story is one about small woodland creatures. It’ll be awful.” Fergus stuck his head out the door and told her it was time for her story. She said, “Fergus, I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready. I should never have come.”
“Nonsense, Little One. You’ll do fine. Just do like Mason.” Fergus assumed that would make her feel better. Unfortunately he also added, “Boy, that kid can tell a story! Woo… glad I’m not in a festival competition against him.” As he noticed Tressa frozen in fear he patted her on the head. “You’ll do fine…he’s got them all warmed up for you.”
Tressa somehow found the strength to follow Fergus back inside where the crowd was indeed loosened up and talking comfortably back and forth with each other. Fergus rapped his mug on the table and announced to the room, “Now I have the distinct pleasure of presenting the first and only female Storyteller from Top Peake. Please welcome my very dear young friend Tressa Tremaine.”
The room politely clapped for Tressa in hopes of another lively tale of rescues, chases and damsels in distress. As she got to the fireplace Tressa looked out at the room and forgot every story she had ever heard. For what seemed like an eternity she simply stared at them with her mouth open and no words would come out. She had experienced anxiety and mild stage fright at the Institute, but there she was speaking to her friends and neighbors. She had always found a way to get through it. This time looking out at all the unfamiliar, expectant faces there was simply nothing she could try and grasp.
Just as she thought she would faint, die and be buried right there in front of the fireplace she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She managed to turn her head enough to see Mason’s warm brown eyes smiling at her. He had joined her and then got the story started by playing the part of the narrator. Slowly she thawed and haltingly started telling the story of a small hare that gets lost and then befriended by an old fox. Mason took over the part of the fox as they went back and forth through the story. As they progressed, Tressa found her confidence as she focused on Mason and her portion of the story and totally forgot there was an audience listening.
The room was silent with rapt attention as the tale unfolded and the storytellers became the characters; Tressa in a small quiet voice as the rabbit and Mason calmly, confidently playing the old, weary fox. In the final scene Tressa was surprised to find she was holding hands with Mason, who as the fox, gave up his life to the huntsmen and saved his friend, the rabbit. The mournful cry of the fox as a parting goodbye to the rabbit echoed hollowly around the room as the story ended softly, calmly, reverently.
The room was silent for a moment and then with a collective breath everyone was crying, and laughing at each other for crying. They were slapping each other on the back and hugging everyone they could reach. The whole room took turns congratulating Fergus, Mason and Tressa. Tressa knew this was the best story she had ever told, and it was all because of Mason. She hugged him so tightly she felt him start to go limp from lack of air. When she finally let go both of them started laughing and crying along with everyone else.
Chapter 9
Wake up time in Flatley seemed to be somewhere between dawn and dusk. Without a whole lot to do it didn’t seem to matter when you got out of bed. Tressa had been so excited the night before she didn’t go to sleep until well after midnight. She still managed to wake up early and do a series of stretching and strength exercises in her room. As she was heading to the hall bathroom she ran into Mason sleepily coming out of the room he shared with Fergus.
“You’re up early. Why are you all sweaty and gross?” he mumbled.
“I’m just trying to stay limber.” She replied.
“So you can sit on your butt all day in a Magno-Bus? Nice plan, genius.” Mason smiled a little to let her know he was kidding, but it still stung that last night he was so sweet and the first thing he said to her this morning was hurtful. Tressa took over the bathroom to get ready for the day. She couldn’t shake the hurt feelings she had from what Mason had said. In spite of that, she was determined to try and get through the day without arguing with anyone.
At breakfast Fergus noticed that Tressa was quiet and reserved. Mason seemed to have no idea that she was upset about what he said earlier. They all ate looking straight ahead and contemplating their own thoughts.
After checking out of the Flatley Hotel, they trudged back across a soggy street to the bus station, none of them relishing an encounter with a talkative Mick. But, working all night must have worn him out because when they arrived at the loading area he was inside the bus sleeping. As Fergus and Mason loaded the group’s gear Tressa lightly stepped into the bus and shook Mick’s shoulder.
“Get along to get along.” He mumbled in his sleep. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes he took in the three of them now seated and ready to go. “Okay, I guess it’s All Aboard.”
The morning turned to afternoon which turned to evening. The trio spent the time sleeping, talking quietly to each other or just staring out the window. Mick kept up a low running commentary of how the bus was doing and what he thought he might do to keep it going. After a while, Tressa thought he actually ran out of things to say and started over from the beginning.
As the sun was beginning to set behind them they saw large forms rising up on the horizon. Squares, rectangles and domes were catching the rays of the weakening sun and reflecting back a reddish-orange light that through the tube’s blue covering made the whole city skyline look purple. Mick came back by the benches and pointed out the front of the bus. “There’s New Omaha. Straight up and straight down just about the best part of my job is seeing her this time of day.”
It was almost dark by the time the bus got into the city. The tube brought them right inside the cities’ power umbrella and the tracks turned a corner just a few steps from the largest building Tressa or Mason had ever seen. It took up three whole blocks in either direction and had doors where entire trolleys could enter and exit. They saw large electric flatbeds with crates and wrapped pallets of merchandise ready to go inside. They could hear animals and livestock in pens and cages making every noise they had ever learned as children
. People flowed in and out of the building and up and down the sidewalk. Some had baggage, others carried packages, parents had children in tow and Tressa saw elderly folk helping each other slowly inside.
As the bus stopped Mick picked up the microphone and shouted, END OF THE LINE…NEW OMAHA…END OF THE LINE…ALL OUT! This time Fergus, Mason and Tressa saw it coming and had covered their ears as tightly as possible. Even so they still felt like they’d just come through a thunderclap.
Fergus got them all organized and they collected their belongings off the trailer as Mick simply turned a key and the bus dropped onto the strip below with a click that came from thousands of pounds of metal magnetically sealing itself to the ground. “Well, I’m off duty until tomorrow morning. Let’s see ‘em try to steal that!” he laughed, and with that waved and wished them well. “See you on the trip home,” he said striding away down the sidewalk. He dodged around the electric trolleys, ferrying passengers on errands or just travelling home from work and soon disappeared into the crowds.
As they proceeded inside Tressa’s eyes were big as saucers and Mason’s jaw dropped to where he could’ve swallowed an apple whole. The ceiling in the building was over 150 feet high and supported by poles throughout. Lower struts connected side wings to the building and there were large open market stalls and booths with every type of clothing, food, tech items and anything else a person could possibly want for sale. The roof supports were metal frameworks and there were glass skylights dotted around. The last rays of the sun were sending a few feeble orange beams among the rafters. Towers of glass rooms looked out into the atrium as crystal clear elevators silently slid up and down to deliver their passengers to the correct floor. Flowers, plants and entire trees were in gardens with pathways and ponds scattered throughout. Cafes had tables and chairs spread around and many had diners sitting and eating or just chatting with friends. Couples strolled along the pathways of the parks and low lighting was coming on as the darkness settled outside. A few mothers were letting their children play on the grassy areas around a swing set and a waterfall fell noisily into a pool of clear water.
Fergus turned around and told them, “This building was created at the very peak of the Technological Age just before the first Incident. It represents the high-water mark of mankind’s technology and it holds our very best scientific achievement.” He let them take that in and then stepped out of the way pointing toward the middle of the building. “The entire middle section of the building houses twenty Space Elevators.” Tressa could see where large hanger doors had numbers stenciled on them. “One through Ten on this side and Eleven through Twenty on the other side,” he said. “Of course, most of them don’t work anymore – either because of something wrong on this end or that end, but still… to go as easily across the world in one of these, as those glass elevators take you from the ground floor up, still boggles my mind. This is the Space Elevator Waypoint – New Omaha or SEW-NO.”
Mason said, “I’ve read about the Space elevators but never realized they were this big. I guess I figured you just got in with your stuff and away you went.”
“There may have been smaller ones at one time and it may have been that simple as well,” Fergus replied. “These were built for shipping commercial items from one place to another not people. But, it’s all we’ve got now and it’s still the fastest way around the globe. With the recent vandalism of the regional power plant we’ll most likely have to wait for enough power to be stored for them to be able to safely make the jump. From here we can go to 6 other cities. If a person learns the working map you can pretty well get to anywhere in the world – eventually, at least.”
Tressa finally got over the shock of the sheer size of the building and asked Fergus, “Where are we going from here? And when?”
“Let’s get checked into some rooms and then we can talk about that over dinner.” Fergus then led them over toward the nearest glass tower.
At dinner Mason and Tressa peppered Fergus with questions about how the Space elevators worked, why they didn’t all work, what did it feel like to use one and about every other question ever asked by a Storyteller on their first journey. Fergus did his best to stay ahead of the questions with short answers, but eventually he got overrun. He held up his hands in surrender. “The best answer to most of your questions is, I don’t know. I do know that some of the elevators don’t work because the receiving station is either damaged or missing altogether. Some of the original cities these went to are simply not there anymore.” He made a side to side rocking motion and said, “When you’re in one and it’s moving or whatever it does, it feels like you’re just really heavy and a little off balance rather than the feeling of going up or down like a regular elevator. I think it has something to do with how the technology interprets your body so it sends all the right parts and pieces and then puts you back together again the right way.” Tressa made a face that clearly told him she didn’t wish to be sent somewhere and put back together – hopefully in the right order.
“Relax, its fine. These machines have been working for hundreds of years.” He winked at Mason, “I’ve only ever heard of problems with small girls.” Tressa took the opportunity to storm off toward one of the parks, but not before hearing Mason and Fergus laughing as she walked away.
Chapter 10
The next morning Tressa had calmed down enough that she was a little embarrassed for letting Fergus and Mason get the better of her the previous night. She wondered why sometimes she was so sensitive and awkward – even with people she knew well and trusted.
As she joined Fergus and Mason at a table outside the café from last night they both nodded at her approach. Fergus waved her to a seat. “I hope you slept well. We have a lot to discuss this morning. First off…our travel plans. I had originally thought to try for someplace with terrain you’d find familiar. The mountains in Europe have been safer in the past few years than ever before. The locals are finally getting around to catching all the bandits and small time gangs that have kept everyone too scared to travel there. However, the Space Elevator to go there has a jammed packed schedule. I guess other people had the same idea. They’ve got medical supplies, heavy clothing, boots, food, and everything from water balloons to circus monkeys it seems lined up for the trip. We couldn’t get on that one for a month, and that’s if we felt like waiting. I know of a long way around through other cities, but it may end up being the same situation from those cities as well.”
He paused to take a few bites of his breakfast then continued. “Instead, how about if we go someplace warm with sandy beaches and blue water? I thought the newer islands in the Caribbean might make for a good start to your careers. The people there are really starting to develop some neat little communities and they’ve now been there long enough to have some good stories about giant sharks, earthquakes and sunken treasure. Maybe we can find some gold of our own in their tales.”
Mason looked excited at the prospect of seeing the kind of places where his pirate characters once sailed through blue lagoons and landed on sandy white beaches. Tressa thought that lying in the shade of a palm tree listening to someone else’s stories sounded good to her.
“Then it’s settled. I’ll book us onto the elevator closest to the Eastern Islands. Sit tight and let me see what’s available.” Fergus stood up and walked across the atrium toward a row of glass windows with attendants behind them. The kids watched him get into the short line at one of the center windows marked “5” and talk to the woman behind the counter. He nodded a few times pointed to the screen behind her and asked a question. The ticket lady nodded back as she made change for him and he returned to the table stuffing a few papers into his satchel. Happily, he reported, “We’re all set. Just 3 days until it’s our turn. You can hardly find anything sooner than that. Just to warn you ahead of time though, we’ll be travelling with a few chickens and I think 6 cows in the bay with us. Probably a lot of noise and maybe a little barnyard smell, but no one else wanted to make the ju
mp with them so that’s our good luck.
Tressa wasn’t sure she wanted to be piled in with a bunch of smelly animals climbing all over her on her first Space Elevator experience. “What if I come out the other end with wings instead of arms? Or feathers instead of hair?” Even normally unflappable Mason looked a little uncomfortable as he considered that kind of possibility. Fergus just shrugged. “I guess you’ll have quite a story to cluck.” His expression was enough to make them all relax and Tressa even giggled a little as she thought about Fergus being milked everyday back in Top Peake.
Pulling out a worn map Fergus showed them where they would go from New Omaha. The closest landing point was SEW-CUB in Havana. The map showed that it was 200 feet underwater. “It’s the only underwater SEW from the Technology Age that survived as far as we know. And wait until you look out the viewing ports right into the sea. It’s quite breathtaking.” Fergus informed them.
From there they would find transport on a trawler to the Eastern Islands, a final journey of about four days. He explained about some people getting seasick, but they would take precautions in Havana. One small hypo-dermal spray injection usually took care of the worst seasickness for about a month.
“So we pretty much get to practice one of the most important skills you can learn as a Storyteller…patience. There’s always travel, but there’s always waiting, too. Usually more waiting than travel, I think. Along with waiting patiently you also need to work on your skills of observation and listening. The best Storytellers are those who don’t just talk but know how to listen. You have to listen carefully to hear the best stories. You have to observe closely your surroundings to make your stories come to life, and you need to know the difference from what’s important and what’s not important. Once we return home we’ll also make a report to the Council of any news we’ve heard so they can determine what’s in the best interest for Top Peake.”
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