Interlude: Civvie

Interlude: Civvie

…

Commissioned by Citino

Word Count: 3500

…

“Jack.”

The name’s Jacobi, but ever since I moved to this new Arcology, I’ve gone by Jack. It’s quicker.

“Dane.”

Dane’s the checkpoint manager for the inter-Arcology rail line.

“You’re early.”

He likes small talk.

“I don’t like the rush.”

I don’t mind it.

“Heh. No one does, but you’re the only one willing to wake up early!”

That wasn’t completely true. There were plenty of others present. It’s more accurate to say that I’m the only one who’s willing to make small talk in the middle of nowhere at 4am. Everyone else is reading chat logs, watching something, or listening to music. I liked keeping my electronics off after a night of rest and recreation. It wasn’t like the Arcology was bad to look at, anyway.

“You say that like I’m strange.”

Dane kept awake all night. Or, rather, his part of the Arcology was probably day when mine was night. We lived in the middle of a dozen other Arcologies. Not much natural sunlight over here, though it was just a fifteen minute train ride to see it. Anyway, he looked preppy because his shift was probably just about to end. Nothing to it. We just had different sleep cycles.

“Pahahaah! Aren’t you, though!?”

I didn’t laugh as much as Dane. He found a lot of things funny. I usually needed a vid or something. I definitely couldn’t manage a joke like that without feeling embarrassed. Him, though? He managed it as easily as breathing. I was almost jealous enough to sign up for a communications course. Almost.

“English is difficult and I need to practice it to teach it properly.”

Thinking, speaking, and immersing myself in English was a difficult affair, especially since it was so easy to get a translator. However, father had told me that there’s merit in learning languages. I took that to heart. There were some things that translators still couldn’t explain. And, that will remain true as long as humanity exists. Language changes quickly and I wanted to make sure everyone could keep talking as easily as they did.

“Well, I appreciate your hard work. I can’t imagine having to learn a dozen languages just to talk to everyone I meet every day. That’d be crazy.”

The string of words took me a bit to parse. However, I managed. It took me longer than I’d like to admit. Long enough for Dane to give a smile and officially open the station. I managed to give him a nod and a wave before filing into the doors of the train.

It took four minutes to get to my workplace. When I entered it was still dark and quiet. However, logging in, I was able to start my shift right when I entered.

It will be a few hours until everyone arrives.

And, as always, the silence of an empty workplace was better than the music I usually listened to.

…

“Mr. Ferdinand, you must take a break. You have worked an hour past the limit. Please, consider simply rising and walking for a few minutes.”

Taking a break was voluntary. There was no need for me to do so at the behest of the Drone. It was an automated construct with virtual intelligence similar to those sent in droves into  battlefields. It did not feel, as it was not true AI, yet it was made to have a face that expressed concern and looked human.  Sometimes, I could easily forget these things. However, did it matter if I forgot or not, especially when it expressed words that were obviously with my safety in mind?

“I think I’ll have lunch now.”

“Ah, then please enjoy your lunch, and feel free to combine it with the two breaks that you’ve accumulated, Mr. Ferdinand.” The Drone smiled upon me, holding together perfect hands, and giving me a smile of contentment. It was easy to see why some individuals chose to have one as partners, instead of another human being, or another sentient individual. But, it was only understanding. I did not condemn it. However, I did not condone it. I very much would like to have a partner, one that could disagree with me and correct me even if I’m following every law. “Take care and be safe, especially if you feel fatigue, Mr. Ferdinand.”

“Okay.”

I didn’t need to say okay. It would just go about its business whether I did not or I did. It was a vigilant sentinel caring for those engrossed deeply in their work within the office. Most large workplaces had such Drones, more than one if needed, since most who worked did so because it was their passion. Overwork, fatigue, and stress were still possible due to the driven nature of humanity’s current generation.

I read that in an article by someone born before the Arcologies. He’d lived during an age before the Chimera. Then, those who did not wish to work had to work, if they wanted to live. It was strange to think that such things would be necessary. Most just worked to gain funds for better things than what they were given.

Such was not the case in my facility.

I knew very few people in my workplace. Each one was seated in a cubicle dedicated to their task. Some were interviewing people led in by drones, others were scouring the net, and some worked with teams in whole departments. I saw a few AI working and trundling after a man in a white coat, a smile on his face, and carrying stacks of books that might’ve been somewhere he shouldn’t have access to.

Everyone here, in this building, were the sorts of individuals whose work was to advance, uphold, or record humanity’s history through own means.

Therefore, though I could never have a Drone as a partner, it was reassuring to have them present to remind everyone to stay rested.

And to rush them to the hospital or aid center, if they pushed themselves too far.

Ah…

I’ve forgotten to think in English…

…

I decided to make the most of my lengthened lunch by taking a longer line to an Italian Arcology. It was thirty minutes farther than where I usually ate. Thus, I would have only an hour to have lunch, before having to return. I can rest to and fro, so there was little issue in my route.

However, I found myself in a conundrum.

Where to eat.

Italian cuisine emphasized various pastas, dairies, and vegetables. Meat was present, but in the form of stuffing or added flavor in smaller, ground fragments. Easily affordable, thus there were many restaurants to choose from for a meal. That was without considering sweets or pastries that I would like to purchase, too.

Food was my vice.

Health was a matter of general importance, but so was being able to be proper. I did not wish to be a large, rotund man subsisting in his own filth off of the population’s collective goodwill. Yet, I couldn’t help but consider it. Some part of me wanted to laze about, accrue funds passively, and be gluttonous.

So, I used up my earnings as quickly as possible, saved very little for temptations, and cooked as much as possible.

Yet, on certain days, I would make the most of my meager self-allotment.

The fact I had a time limit would ensure that I did not waste all my funds.

Or, so I hoped.

I was tempted to go to the Rail Center. Most businesses had small outlets in the massive stations that connected the fringes of Arcologies with one another. Many individuals spent their whole visits there. I was fortunate that my office was near such a center, giving me speedy access to my workplace, and the surrounding Arcologies’ Rail Centers. I’ve visited all the surrounding ones, but I found the Italian Arcology to my favorite.

I’ve visited all the restaurants within the Rail Center, and I had many favorites amongst them, but I had time on my side today.

Visiting the rest of the Arcology, and finding a local, smaller specialty shop was my objective.

I would have gotten lost without either my Communicator and my Translator.

Traversing each and every Arcology is an easy affair. The internal, underground areas are filled with walkways, escalators, and people-movers of various types. All the streets had automated vehicles that worked together in concert. People only drove for recreation now. It’s incredibly impressive how logistics functioned before Arcologies and automation. Humanity took an uncountable number of steps to reach our current position. It was sobering to consider how differently my generation’s experience with technology is, compared to the last.

Anyway, the efficiency of the system made it easy to travel anywhere in the city.

Meaning that a wrong stop or detour can easily get an individual very far from their intended destination very quickly.

Asking for help and consulting the various help Drones ensured I got to my location on time  however.

The structure I found myself before was a historical one, meaning that it was uplifted from its original position, placed within an Arcology, and had a building built around it that simulated it’s previous surroundings perfectly. Upon entering it, I felt the breeze of a city, the harsh glare of noon sun, and stepped upon real, true cobble.

I was aware of a few arguments against such heritage sites. However, I couldn’t bring any of them to mind. The moment I entered the perfect recreation of a location that a human hundreds of years ago would’ve walked towards the same way I did, I could do nothing besides look upon it all, try to remember it all, and find the ability to walk forward again.

For some reason, I felt as though I was treading into someplace sacred.

…

The meal was delicious.

Three different pastas composed of three different sauces and proteins were the main course, each one a traditional  recipe handed down a  multitude of generations.

The first was light, delicate, and focused on seafood, herbs, and lightly oiled. The pasta was robust, toothy, and had a strong flavor. It was a dish that would be made by fishermen’s wives. The dough was roughly made, but with care, and then it was brought to life by what the fishermen couldn’t sell in the market and herbs they could find on the wayside through one means or another.

The second was heartier, but still light. A more refined strand of pasta that was nearly sweet, but otherwise flavorless was gilded with a light, acidic tomato sauce, peppered, and gently grated parmesan. Whereas the first was robust, the second had a powerful subtlety that filled the mouth with the texture and taste of refined pasta, before supplementing it with acidity and a rich saltiness.

The third was luxurious. A remnant of days gone by, when animals were plentiful and raised by the hundreds all across the world. Five ravioli stuffed with lamb, braised in spices and herbs until falling apart in a brown sauce. The pasta was a deep yellow from eggs. The sauce was made of cultured butter and sage. The filling involved the death of an animal that could’ve otherwise grown large and provided more meat.

It was exquisite.

The pasta itself was soft, yet it granted a richness to the dish when paired with the brown butter sauce. It was a starch with a gravy-like sauce in its existence, but refined, condensed , and perfected. It was a side dish, despite seemingly only being a parcel to contain the stewed lamb that was promised by the dish.

Without a doubt, it was the finest dish I’d ever eaten in my life, to the point where I questioned whether to get another serving… or dessert.

A sugary treat that I rarely allowed myself, lest I find myself large and robust once again, or a foodstuff that I would forever compare to everything else I ever ate.

For the first time, I raised my hand at the waiter at the end of my main course and asked for a repeat of an entrée rather than a desert.

And, I had to call in the fact that I wouldn’t be returning to work on time to enjoy it.

That was another first.

…

I didn’t spend much time within my apartment. There were many who went straight home after their work, as to rest and recreate within the virtual realm. I preferred to do that only while I slept.

Normally, I’d look around a neighboring Arcology’s cultural district. However, given my decision to prolong my stay in the Italian Arcology, I had the rare chance to visit one that neighbored it instead of my own.

I needed to walk, too.

If need be, I could stay overnight in a capsule hotel and return home in the morning, while still having my fill of rest and recreation.

Perhaps it was after eating a dish eaten and cherished by others, in a place which had stood for decades and decades, but I didn’t wish to go home. I was in search for more memories for this night. Going home to my apartment, small and drab due to my choosing, had no appeal to me. I was even to take a line to the other side of the Cradle, one that’s nearly four hours long in travel time, to spend time with my parents and share my experience with them.

But, despite the Uplift occurring months ago, I’ve never taken the time to look upon Humanity’s new “Sky.”

When I looked upward within the Arcology, I saw perfect renditions of the sky via holographic projectors. On some days it rained freely, some days there was fog, and even snow was made during the winter. Children needed to have it explained to them that machines were creating such things in the Arcology, after they learn the basic sciences in the first few grades.

In a way, all of humanity was being preserved just like that centuries old cultural heritage site, but I didn’t wish to ruminate on that tonight.

I wanted to look upon the stars as I’ve never seen them before.

And, I was not alone.

I’d heard that many people partook in looking upon the stars nowadays. There was some politics involved in it. Some of those who espoused leaving earth behind passed out pamphlets and hosted the event. They favored leaving behind Earth, after gathering all that we can of it, and heading into deep space.  However, I was lucky to stumble upon a stellar gazing event that did not involve such a political group.

I found myself involved with a multitude of drunkards, though.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!”

“Woo! Get at it, Jinnnnn!!”

“Don’t you fucking lose, Daaaavveee!”

Without a doubt, I stumbled upon a massive beer party by accident. I was invited to partake in it. Though I didn’t drink much alcohol, I found myself nursing a beer in my hand and watching with the rest of the passerby at the antics of quite a few men who were nearly nude, had a worrying amount of alcohol bottles, and an even larger stack of empty alcohol bottles.

I was sure that which was already imbibed was beyond my ability to purchase in a single paycheck.

Though I was raised to respect those who extended their hand to me in hospitality, I ignored them.

I felt that was respect enough.

Though, I did find a companion amongst those gathered by the antics and the promise of a night spent gazing at the stars, though the organizers didn’t seem too interested in the latter, and too much on the former.

She was a young woman of red hair worn in braids, clad in a pink cardigan and blouse, and of my age. By her clothes alone, I knew that she worked a job more strenuous and more important than myself, but the way she relaxed with such glee clarified matters for me further. I was tempted to ask her of her occupation, but I decided against it.

Initially, I used my translator to ask her if she’s friends with anyone present. I found that she was just another individual passing by. Then, we found ourselves conversing with greater ease, albeit through translators.

Her name was Abigail Field. Born in an British Arcology, she was raised in a nuclear household, and her father was one of the first European construction workers certified for the handling of Drone workforce. That meant she was one of the first children born in an Arcology, within larger residential apartments, and her father was probably on Earth now making sure that the military and strategic locations there held. She was studying in his footsteps, but with the aim to expand the Cradle, instead of going down to Earth. Not that she would need to, since her father told her that it would only take a year for even the most outermost constructions to be finished.

I told her that my father studied history, while my mother worked part-time. While I pursued what her father would consider a hobby.

That had made her laugh, smile, and lean against me.

I did not think more than a dozen drunk, brawny men would ever see me settled next to a beautiful woman beneath the stars, but I was surprised by a multitude of things today.

I mustered the courage to ask her if she’d like to visit the restaurant I now adored after mustering all my courage, despite every nerve in my body telling me that I ought to merely ask her for her contact information. It must’ve been the stars, the impeccable meal, and the incredible carousing happening at my back that convinced me to take the risk… but the risk paid off when the smile became less humorous and more earnest.

She accepted.

Then, offered to pay my offer forward.

I did not manage to thank those who graciously invited me, before she took me by the wrist into the night.

…

I was barely able to pay attention to my usual news.

“Today marks the Arcology’s shift from Winter to Spring. The voting base has decided against Spring Rains for the first time in a decade. There is currently a virtual battle being fought across several servers for “retribution of against this slight against tradition.” So far it seems to be a comedic and slapstick in nature, but a list of servers has been posted, in case individuals do not wish to participate.”

My mind was probably too disheveled for anything short of simply staring at the ceiling with white noise filling my ears.

“There will be a sale on dairy tomorrow and a reduction in price over the course of several days. After verifying that the Uplift has not been detrimental to the dairy cattle, the Arcology has released a statement that it will release the stock kept stored over a set period of time to ensure the market suffers no ill effects. Our experts say to not get caught upon in the rush, nor to purchase too many pasteurized, long-lasting dairy products. Fresher is better.”

I wanted to work harder… in a different job than I did now.

“This Arcology’s sponsored military unit reports no casualties today, with fortifications rapidly being built, and their long-term storages completely filled. The Arcology is shifting from providing them with long-term supplies to fresh  produce over the coming weeks, as was the case before the Uplift. Basic rations will be available for half price while the surplus lasts. All proceeds will be utilized for the troops.”

I knew that it was incredibly silly, but I wanted to see Abigail everyday now. No matter what all my knowledge told me, and all the warnings composed by my logic, I couldn’t step away from the thought.

“Disney’s most recent film has broken box-office records. The adaptation of the local myth of Pearl Shooter was animated by the media giant in record time. Despite critics warning against the show’s lack of possible polish, after-viewing reviews say that they’re unfounded, and that it’s a grand new take on the old Mahou Shoujo genre. It is recommended by our own station’s department and myself. Any true fan will appreciate the nods to the classics, along with the modern twists!”

I found my gaze turning incessantly towards several job offers. I held a college degree in specialized field. Communications and media offerings were common for me, and they paid very well, though I would be unable to pursue my current project with the same time as I did now… I would still be capable of working on it part time.

“And, now news about the Preservers—

I muted the channel before it got  to the celebrity fixations of the week, as always.

But, unlike all the other days, I did not immediately log in, sync, and set out to rest and recreate in another world.

My thoughts were engulfed by the need to get a new job… and I would’ve probably continued pondering finding a new occupation until an invitation pinged my inbox for the first time in months.

Abigail invited me to join her for the night.

I found myself accepting the invitation without a thought.

I… I definitely was going after her with all my ability, wasn’t I?