Station

by Jarrett Brandon Early

  CHAPTER 4

  Hadder took a slow, methodical turn atop the Perch, attempting to digest everything in a single, sweeping gaze. From his vantage point, Hadder could clearly see Station's walls in two of the four primary directions - from where he came and to his left. Directly ahead, and more so to his right, the wall could barely be made out in the distance.

  The great moon still hung huge and bright above, seemingly unmoved since his arrival. It cast moonbeam shadows across Station's relatively flat terrain, giving the city a ghostlike quality that was apropos given the citizenry. Squat buildings continued to litter the ground in most directions, with the occasional taller, more impressive construct piercing the night in a few select locations.

  Miles waited patiently as Hadder looked upon his new city, breathing in the fresh air and accepting the small moonlit breeze, imagining that they contained hidden energy that would once again bring vitality to his current husk of a body. Forms moved below him in all directions, none in a seeming hurry. From his admittedly uneducated perspective, it seemed that Station was full, but not packed with people. Enough to avoid feeling lonely, but not so many that the weight of strangers would press heavy on one's chest.

  Miles finally cleared his throat, evidently ready to give his prepared spiel. "Listen, Hadder, it would be impossible for me to tell you everything about this city of secrets here and now. Understanding Station is like becoming a surgeon. You can listen to all the lectures, read all the journals, and watch all the videos you want, but until you've held a man's organs and life in your hands, you don't know what is going on."

  "Driving may have been a less intense metaphor for a new city."

  Miles smirked. "And therefore, less appropriate. Station is a complex creature with moving parts and shifting dynamics. Those, unfortunately, you'll have to figure out for yourself alongside where you belong and how you want to spend your time here."

  "Time here? Is there an end to this place? How long are we expected to stay here?"

  Miles's face shifted uncomfortably. Whether it was sadness, frustration, or anger, Hadder was unable to decipher. "I don't know, Hadder. And that is perhaps Station's greatest mystery. But let's not dwell on the potentially morose. As I said before, Station is what you make of it. I, myself, have had some of the best times of my life here. You'll want for nothing; everything is provided for you, from clothes to food to entertainment."

  "What kind of entertainment?"

  A genuine smile this time. "Anything from your wildest dreams, my friend. Sex? Yes. Drugs? Sure. Music? Absolutely. But here you can go much deeper, to satiate those desires that you were scared to indulge in during the Before. All you have to do is ask here, and things will be put in motion."

  Miles could see the confusion in Hadder's eyes. "These are things you will find out on your own, of course. Let me tell you what you need to know to get started. A tutorial of sorts, the basic buttons of the place. How does that sound?"

  "Please."

  Miles pointed up. "As you've no doubt noticed, sunlight never falls on Station."

  "Why is that?"

  "There have been many theories. My own? I think Mister Rott, when creating this place and envisioning who would live here, felt that sunlight showed too many scars, highlighted too many difficult truths. So, he found a workaround. The great moon, which we call the Idol Moon, is our sun as well as our moon. It changes size and brightness to mark days and nights, but never shifts location in the sky. Right now, it is our day, referred to as the Solay. In a bit, the moon will fold in on itself and usher in our night, the Haela."

  Hadder looked up at the mysterious body that dominated the heavens. "Where are we, Miles?"

  "Wrong question. First, because I don't know and, second, because it doesn't matter. Now, as the Idol Moon doesn't move, there are no classic directions in Station. Therefore, we use the Gate, the entrance you recently passed through, as our southernmost point. Please remember this as I continue."

  Hadder turned back towards where they had walked from, hoping to get his bearings before Miles moved on. "See the small buildings that make up the majority of Station's construction, Hadder? As I mentioned before, these are Bars. One or more of them is where you will spend the vast majority of your time. Each one is unique and caters to varying tastes, personalities, and desires. While they are all different, however, many share qualities and attract similar patrons. In this way, Station organically organizes itself through the Bar system. While there are no rigid lines or defined borders, Bars of a feather naturally flock together. Think back to the two areas we passed. The new-age groups tend to stay in one Cluster while Station's sadder individuals have congregated to the Cluster others call the Weep."

  "How many of these Clusters are there?"

  Miles had to think for a moment. "Maybe a dozen or so, but most are undefined, and there is a lot of crossover. Additionally, just like neighborhoods in the Before, demographics and trends adjust over time. And people change. Just because you're here doesn't mean you stop growing and learning and changing. You may spend significant time in one Bar or Cluster to wake up one day and discover that it's not for you anymore." Something lit a fire behind Miles's golden eyes. "But that's the beauty of Station! There're no families to consider. There's no property to worry about. There's no paperwork to fill out. Tired of where you are? Pick up and move on, no questions asked. Station is a playground with all the toys you could ever want."

  "But where do I go, Miles?"

  "You'll have to experiment, try to get in where you fit in. That's the scariest but also the most exciting part of coming to Station. You mentioned Thailand earlier. I assume you've been?"

  "Yes, right after…" Hadder hesitated, rewound. "I mean, I've been."

  "And when you arrived, did you know exactly where to go and what to do? Who to ask and what to avoid?"

  "No, I just figured it out as I went."

  "Exactly, you'll have to do the same here. But unlike in the Before, Station is quite tolerant of bad behavior and mistakes. Now, the majority of the city is called the Setting, which is everything west of the Skirt. That's all you need to acquaint yourself with right now."

  "What is the Skirt?"

  Miles turned to the "east," and Hadder trailed his gaze. In the distance, Hadder could make out a wide swath of land scraped clean of any Bars or other buildings. "The Skirt is the border between the Setting and the Rising. You just stay on this side, and you'll have no worries."

  "But why are the two sides separated?"

  Miles quickly turned back to face Hadder. "Sorry, not part of the tutorial. To the north, you'll find Mister Rott's manor and the Elevation Centers are at the city's edges. Before you ask, others should explain, or better yet show, what Elevations are. Too much information too quickly, and your brain can fry like an earthworm on hot cement."

  Hadder couldn't hold back any longer. "How long have you been here, Miles? How long has everyone been here?"

  A frown was followed by a non-committal shrug. "Time works differently here, Hadder. We don't have names for things like weeks, months, or years. Time is measured in short bursts of Solays and Haelas. I don't know how long I've been here, whether months or years or decades, in terms of Before time. Here, we just live for the present. In the Before, many of us couldn't escape the past. Others were too fearful of the future. Station tries to change that for all its residents, it really does."

  "But you said I was the first newcomer in a long time."

  "That's right. Everyone had come to think that the doors were closed forever, that we were the chosen ones, for good or bad. You may find mixed reactions to your arrival."

  "How did you know I was coming?"

  "Well, Mister Rott told me, of course."

  "And how did he know?"

  Miles's golden eyes flashed again. "He knows everything, Hadder." A deep sigh. "And with that, my friend, I will leave you to your thoughts. You have much to consider and a new life to prepare for."

 
; Panic struck Hadder like cold water. "Wait, Miles, I have so many more questions. Where do I sleep? What is expected of me?"

  Miles had already started moving towards the steps of the Perch. "Anywhere and nothing, my friend. Each Bar is larger than it looks. Living quarters and other necessities can be found under each; just look for a space that's uninhabited at the moment." Hadder began to ask another question, but Miles held up his hand. "I really must be going, Hadder. I was supposed to play at The Royal Jelly this Solay, and this unplanned tutorial has already made me late. Not that I'm upset, mind you. Anything for Mister Rott."

  "What's The Royal Jelly?"

  "A Bar to the northwest. Nice place. But if I may suggest, jumpstart your new life by visiting the Celebration Cluster just east of here. They'll give you a proper welcome." Miles began to descend the stairs but stopped suddenly. "Oh, I almost forgot. Don't worry about your health here. There're no diseases, no one gets sick, no STDs or genital warts to keep you from a good time. Heck, no one even ages as far as I can tell. So, go out and lose yourself. You'll always find yourself again." Miles continued down.

  "Wait! No one ages or gets sick? So, no one dies here in Station?" Hadder called out.

  "I didn't say that," came the reply from beneath, Miles's voice fading away, replaced by another chill breeze that cut through Hadder's worn t-shirt and jeans.

  Hadder went to the railing and faced west, looking down at the various Bars and wondering which would be his, watching Station's residents as they crossed between buildings, hollering greetings to each other and exchanging laughter.

  Hadder's mind wandered. Could this strange city really prove a new beginning? Could it make him finally forget his old life that was lost in the wreckage? Is that what he needed? Is that what he really wanted?

  As Hadder stood pondering these questions, time passed. He didn't know how long he remained there, but a shifting of moon shadows told him that Solay was slowly transitioning into Haela. It was time to go down, to face this new reality. Looking out at his new city, one full of limitless possibility and with a cast of unique characters to meet, Hadder felt as alone as he did on that couch, counting heartbeats and begging them to stop.

  Hadder breathed in deeply, holding in the air until his lungs burned, before exhaling loudly, as if to remind himself that he still lived. Slapping the cold handrail, he set off down the Perch's stairs, spiraling into a dark new world.

  Hadder reached the bottom of the Perch and looked around. Given the twisting nature of the staircase, he had to reacquaint himself with his surroundings to identify south. He agreed with Miles's inference that he needed a jolt to his central nervous system, a hard reboot. The Celebration Cluster sounded like the ideal place to accomplish this. With only a basic understanding of where he was going, Hadder began walking an approximation of east, hoping that answers would come as more of the city was revealed. Keeping the Perch at his back, Hadder marched in a steady but unhurried pace, trying not to stick out as the new kid in school. Because while some enjoyed meeting the new boy, there were always others waiting to pounce.

  CHAPTER 5

  Hadder marveled at the nocturnal beauty of the city. Cobblestone paths lined with blueish lichen wove through manicured lawns and gardens. Small, handcrafted signs, carved with care and detailed with a steady hand, helped guide one along the many paths. This way to the Perch. That way to the Lethe River. Straight ahead, and you would find yourself at something called The Soiree Noire.

  Unsure of where he was going, Hadder simply plunged forward, stopping to take in Station's bizarre but enchanting horticulture. A grouping of brightly iridescent white blossoms took turns shooting brilliant, multicolored spores into the air, making the area around them light up like the Fourth of July. Tall yellow flowers shaped like phonograph horns belted out air that made dulcet sounds and released sweet fragrances as Hadder passed.

  Hadder had to pause for a moment as two distinct flowers, one a striking red and the other midnight blue, leaned into each other from opposite ends of the pathway, locked in a passionate kiss. Sitting just below Hadder's eye line, they created an arch that he could have quickly passed under, but he decided against this, choosing instead to remain still for the bawdy blossom show. After several minutes, the flowers separated, returning to their respective sides of the pathway. Once there, each flower, in tandem, launched purple seeds into the night sky that came down gently on glowing green propellers. A light evening breeze caught the lot and sent them in various directions to start new lives in other parts of the city.

  Station's mysteries didn't end with its plant life. The air was filled with translucent butterflies that graced various flowers with their beauty. The size of a human hand, Hadder thought he could make out small, human-like faces at the tops of the insect bodies, smiling at him as they passed teasingly close to his face.

  For a short while, a box turtle with flashlight eyes walked along the path with a slow-moving Hadder. On the turtle's rather large shell sat an ecosystem of its own, complete with a black soil foundation, peat moss topping, and an assortment of shrubbery comprised of unique shapes and colors. Circling the vegetation was a potpourri of chromatic insects that would take turns landing on and taking off from the variegated leaves. One insect, a large yellow bee that left pink trails in its wake, swooped down and plucked a crimson berry from a particular plant. Struggling a bit with the weight, the bee hefted the seed into the air and flew towards the box turtle's head. When in range, it dropped the berry, which was quickly picked out of the air by a snapping maw. A small tip, Hadder thought, for the reptilian conveyance.

  Leaving the turtle and its self-contained world behind, Hadder went right at the next fork in the path, too entranced by the scenes around him to pay attention to the small signs. Long glow-worms could be seen on several of the larger leaves, hungrily having their fill. As they ate, a neon gas escaped their worm asses and hung for a second before coalescing into distinct shapes and images. One worm created a small ballerina pirouetting in the air while another formed a fist with only its middle finger up. Hadder flicked that one deep into the adjacent bush and continued to move forward, wowed by everything he was experiencing.

  After gaping at Station's natural curiosities for what felt like hours, Hadder got the definite feeling that he was moving in circles and decided that he needed to take a more active approach in finding his way. While the signs should be helpful, Hadder had no idea about the landmarks or Bars to which they referred. None referenced actual Clusters, probably in line with Miles's assertion that Clusters could change and blend into each other over time.

  Coming around a corner in an unusually steep garden section, Hadder spotted the first person he had seen on his unplanned nature hike. It was one of the black-garbed workers he had spied earlier, bending low to tend to some plants that sat on the edge of a small pond. Back towards the cobblestones, Hadder could see the man's impossibly pale hands working at a furious speed to dig holes and deposit saplings. If the man heard Hadder's approach, he gave no sign.

  Hadder, growing tired of sightseeing, decided it was best to ask for directions before his thirst grew any stronger. He moved to stand close behind the black-on-white figure. "Excuse me, I seem to be a bit lost. Can you point me towards the Celebration Cluster?"

  No reaction came as the speed planting continued. Hadder moved around to the other side of the man, hoping to catch his eye and attention. Head down towards his work, Hadder was unable to make out the face, but took note of the man's snowy white hair that loudly reflected the Solay's intense moon rays. Hadder knelt down beside the man and, seeing no other way to distract him from his duties, placed his hand carefully on the other's working arm. His progress now halted; the man looked up to stare at Hadder.

  Half a second of shock was followed by an instinctive revulsion that, instead of being vocalized, manifested itself as Hadder falling backward on his ass before hurriedly crab-walking until he was a safe distance away. There he remained on his back, d
etermined to ensure that what he saw was indeed real and not the hallucination of some alien pollen in his lungs.

  The man's face was the same as his hands - porcelain white. But this inhuman color was not limited to the man's visage. His eyes were two colorless marbles, making him appear as an animated Roman bust. Tearing away from those empty eyes, Hadder was equally appalled by what he found inches below, where instead of a mouth, there was only perfectly smooth skin. With no scar or stitching or divot, one could only assume that no mouth had ever graced that blank face.

  "I'm so sorry to bother you," Hadder stammered from his backside, unable to know if the creature understood him, viewed him as friend or foe.

  And he didn't wait to find out as the white creature stood up, revealing sinewy muscle under the black skinsuit. Flipping onto his stomach, Hadder rose quickly and began to run blindly around the next corner. He didn't make it far before tripping over a raised cobblestone to fall headfirst into a broad thoroughfare that had been concealed by a curtain of ivy falling from branches that hung over the path.

  Hadder hit the ground hard, driving wind from his lungs and scraping his palms. Raising his eyes slowly, Hadder noticed two things. First, the larger, more polished stones that made up this new path. Second, the two pairs of shoes that stood uncomfortably close to his head. One was shiny black Beatle boots while the other was a tiny duo of intricate high-tops that changed colors like a lava lamp as the wearer shifted from one foot to the other.

  The owner of the boots spoke first. "Easy there, old chap. My goodness, but what's the hurry?" Hadder detected a posh British accent.

  Hands wrapped around Hadder's arms and helped him to his feet. The man, whose outfit continued the Beatles theme with a smart-looking black suit with pants that just touched the ankles, continued as he brushed the dirt off of Hadder's stained t-shirt. "There, there, nothing broken, I presume. Oh, but look at that face, Reena! My good sir, you look like you've seen a ghost. Were you running from someone?"