That evening, he went to bed dead tired and disappointed he got such low scores at the shooting session. It was obvious he was not made to fight. “You’re close to the beginner’s average,” Johnny Robinson told him. Was that supposed to encourage him? Well, it didn’t. It meant he was below the beginners’ average. Even more mediocre than average.
The remaining days passed in the same manner: shooting sessions and physical exercises. He expected more. He thought he’d be learning more survival skills: learning how he should manage particular situations. He was told that each situation has its own particularities and that it was up to decide how to make a safe escape. On the last day of training, he met his mentor again.
“Buddy,” said Johnny, “it was a pleasure working with you. You seem like a nice guy. In the end, it might have been just bad luck that brought you here. I hope what we did these few days will help you. Even though your results are not extraordinary, that doesn’t mean you’re doomed. Since you’re not very experienced with the gun, I suggest you keep it out of sight for a while. In the ward, you’ll have a cabinet to which you’ll be the only one with access. Leave the gun there. You’ll notice that a lot of people walk with their gun tucked in a gun holster, like the cowboys in the Wild West. But they know how to use it and won’t hesitate to do so whenever it’s necessary. If you keep yours in plain sight, but don’t intend to use it, the weapon thieves will make you out in the twinkling of an eye. They’ll steal your gun, and then you’ll have to somehow get hold of money and complete your training session there. I’m telling you this for your own sake.”
“What about the period of time when I don’t carry my gun? How do I protect myself?”
“There aren’t fights on a daily basis. And even if a fight occurs, you might be somewhere else. You have to simply hope that you won’t come across somebody who wants to hurt you.”
They shook hands warmly. It didn’t matter to Johnny that he had been working with a murderer. He had probably been doing this for a long time and his experience had its say. Nevertheless, Dylan had made a good, humane impression.
Dylan went back to his room where, to his surprise, he found Lydia. They hugged as though it had been an eternity since they had seen each other. After all that happened, Lydia still loved him. She believed him. Probably of all people, she knew him best.
“Now that your training is over,” said Lydia, “they allowed me to come here. We’ll spend the night together, and tomorrow morning you’ll leave for New Hope. I had a lot of time to think things through, and I’ve made my decision. You’re my man, the man I want to spend my life with. You never proposed to me, but I know you would at the right time. I’m coming with you to New Hope!”
Judging from her look of joy when they first saw each other, Dylan was sure they were going to have a sweet talk that would quench a bit of the longing he endured during the last few training days. It didn’t even occur to him that he was in for something that serious. It took some time before his senses returned. He didn’t understand why she would play around by saying something like that. One shouldn’t joke about this kind of thing. He eventually pulled himself together:
“What? No. It can’t be. Why would you do this?”
“I’ve made my decision. You can’t change my mind. There’s no reason for you to try to make me reconsider my decision. I have already arranged things at work. Unfortunately, I still have to work two more weeks so that the person who’ll replace me has some time to get used to the job. But I’ve submitted my resignation letter. I explained the situation to my bosses and they understand. They said I would be welcomed back at any time in case I change my mind.
After I leave work, I’ll take up a training session similar to yours. Since my training will be more particular, it will take longer, maybe three weeks, depending on how I pull through with what I must learn. If everything goes well, we’ll be together again in a month at the latest. We’ll stand our ground there, in New Hope. And we’ll live happily for the rest of our lives! I assure you of that.”
He watched how she was talking, how confident she was. He knew she had already done all she said she did. He never thought of her as a strong woman capable of facing obstacles that would stand in her way. He always considered her a woman who needed to be protected. And now she was trying to help him. To protect him.
“Why are you doing this for me? I don’t deserve it! I’m a murderer. I lost my temper and killed a man.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Whatever happened, it’s now history. I’m doing this because I love you. And I want to be happy by your side. You are the only one who can make me happy.”
This time, she convinced him. The night that followed was a warm one. They made vows and talked a lot. Hope seemed to come to light. Maybe all was happening according to a plan. A divine one. Since she was a Catholic, she told him several times that at church they taught her that God doesn’t want the sinner to die, but rather for him to mend his ways. They fell asleep in each other’s arms until morning.
Chapter 4
The journey to New Hope took more than half a day. Dylan was taken from the police station by bus, and from there he traveled by plane to the New Hope terminal. Dylan noticed the throng of people. There were at least three hundred people on the plane. He wondered if among them there were any going to New Hope willingly. Everyone wore green bracelets and carried Tasers. For the time being, nobody received ammunition. The atmosphere on the plane was not at all tense—people talked loudly and they made jokes. Dylan thought that since so many wanted to go to New Hope voluntarily, maybe the place was not that terrible after all.
Dylan chose to keep a low profile and opted out any conversation. The rack in front of his seat swung out and could be used as a background for 3-D movies. He put on his headphones and chose a documentary about New Hope’s architecture. The visuals were remarkably designed, and it didn’t seem that a model was what one was actually watching. The documentary was interactive and you could select an area about which you wanted to get more information. To start with, he chose to view the large-screen picture by rotating the image very slowly.
The first thing he noticed was that New Hope was located on a plain and was not crossed by any other land form. Its shape was rather circular, and it was bordered with a relatively high electric fence. Inside the compound was a one kilometer, wide green area surrounded by a similar-looking fence.
Digging a tunnel for an escape attempt would have required a tremendous amount of work. However, there had been a few attempts. There were some daring people who had tested the scanning system that was installed in the buffer area. The scanning system worked and signaled their attempts for escape.
Dylan then noticed that the city was divided into almost identical districts. Each had a single fifteen-floor building: the ward. Cubicle in shape, the building’s corresponding district number was written on each side, filling each side almost completely. The next highest buildings in each district were the residential blocks. Four stories high, they had all been built in like manner.
The main entrance of the block presented itself with a small lobby and then straight ahead was the stairway with two access ramps and a platform that separated the floors from one another. To both left and right were halls. Dylan used his finger to interact with 3-D image. On both sides of these halls you would find the doors of the “studios.” Up from the lobbies, the same kind of stairways are found, having two secondary exits to the ground floor. Dylan thought that was a good thing. In case somebody chased you, you had more than one option for escape. The studios were rectangular-shaped and stretched out to twenty square meters.
All studios were all the same. No hallway, bathroom, or kitchen. You had a bed, a table, and some shelves that stood for a cabinet. All these were built-in and were part of the structure, so that they could not be easily moved. Most likely during the winter, you would need an electric blanket or a heater. Instead of windows, there were some window shutters, narrow lines
through which some light could shine, but too narrow for a person to creep through.
The documentary also answered the question: “Why would one construct so many buildings lacking in utilities?” The reasoning was because any potential damages that deemed inevitable in a place without laws should affect others’ activities as minimally as possible and, in addition, to avoid wasting resources. How could one force someone to turn off the water after they had a shower or turn off the lights once they left a room as long as nothing happened to them if they refused? There should have been a contract between those who supplied these utilities and the inhabitants, but the absence of laws delegitimized any kind of contract.
The next type of building had a single floor. A market. Its grounds were square-shaped and the flights of stairs were positioned in each corner. Upstairs, one could find a three-meter-wide corridor on each side, leaving the interior vacant. The ground floor could be seen from the upstairs through a system of bars. The bars were in place in order to prevent accidents, deliberate or not. Both downstairs as well as upstairs had built-in tables, just like in the studios, instead of stalls. The tables were narrow. Merchants didn’t display their goods for fear of predators—they only displayed ads to indicate what merchandise they had for sale.
The gyms were one-floor buildings with entrances on each side. There were no locker rooms. Residents had to arrive already dressed or be prepared to change in front of everybody. The gym equipment was very well equipped—some was even embedded in the walls or in the floor—and had as few mobile parts as possible. While each district had a ward and a market, gyms were quite numerous; in theory, the authorities were trying to encourage exercise.
Dylan wouldn’t have noticed the next type of buildings if they hadn’t been explicitly mentioned in the documentary. At first glance, one would say they were covered pits rather than buildings. However, they were New Hope’s amphitheaters. Each amphitheater looked like a truncated cone with a base at the ground level, which narrowed as one descended its twenty steps leading to the ten-meter diameter stage. This setup allowed the whole audience to have good visibility, and the risk of accidents was reduced to a minimum. It was not, however, convenient for the performers, who had to look up at all times, and the sets were altogether missing.
Dylan wondered how they would perform in heavy rain, since gravity would cause rainwater to travel to the base of the amphitheater. However, the sewer system seemed to be in perfect tune. Anyone who wanted to could present an artistic number, whether it corresponded to theater, sports, a concert or a magical presentation. Since you could come and go whenever you wished, it would be a challenge to earn money from performances.
The roads in New Hope were wide, with two roadways each, although those were exclusively designated for sheriffs’ cars and supply vehicles. There were also parks where one could go for a walk or jog. The subway entrances were part of the last type of buildings.
However, along a border was an area that looked completely different. It was “The Island of the Rich.” Dylan remembered like it was yesterday trying to convince Lydia to vote for its construction. One wouldn’t find monotony there. No buildings were alike in The Island of the Rich. There were villas with large swimming pools, malls, and even an amusement park. The only things that reminded one of its locations were the wards; otherwise, one would swear he was in a well-off neighborhood.
When they arrived at the terminal, they gathered in a large room where at least two thousand people assembled. On overhead screens, a woman wearing a uniform appeared and began to talk. It was no doubt a recorded message.
“Welcome to New Hope!”
Is this some kind of joke? Dylan thought, but since woman was speaking quickly, he had to concentrate on what she said.
“People have always wanted to be free, to live as they pleased, without fearing tomorrow. And here we are in 2187. This dream has now come true. This dream is called New Hope.”
Some of the people in the audience started to become anxious. They already knew this, and more, about New Hope. They wanted to get this over with. The authors of the recording expected these kinds of reactions, so they limited the message to a short introduction.
“Each of you has information about the ward you belong to imprinted on your bracelet. This is the only ward that is in your service. Access to another ward is strictly prohibited. The sensors will detect whether you are permitted to enter a ward or not. If you are not, an automatic electroshock weapon will shoot you. Don’t risk entering a ward to which you are not permitted. You will risk being shot at.
“The first thing you should do is find the canteen in your ward. Here, you’ll be able to procure your food, whether you choose the food that’s offered free by the state, or whether you wish to purchase something else. Food orders must be made at least four hours prior. You can order from anywhere by using your bracelets. You can eat your meals inside the ward or can choose take-out food.
“In the ward, you’ll also find toilets, showers, and personal hygiene products. All these are provided to you for free. If you need anything extra you can buy it from here.
“The ward also serves as a hospital. If you suffer from a contagious disease, you will be given the necessary medications for free. For all other diseases, you’ll have to pay for your medications.
“The location of your ward is recorded inside the bracelets’ GPS, so you won’t have any trouble finding it. The bracelet’s memory also holds the address of the studio that has been assigned to you. It is programmed to go to your ward first so that you can familiarize yourself with it. At the information desk in your ward is an officer who can help you round the clock, seven days a week.
“New Hope stretches out to more than a thousand square kilometers. You can get from one place to another by using the subway, bikes, skateboards, or by walking. Although the streets are wide enough, the only cars you’ll see belong to the authorities. Understand that, in New Hope, the sheriffs have the authority to give orders. They can even use lethal guns, if necessary. Whatever the sheriffs order you to do, you must do immediately; otherwise, you risk being shot without warning. The only law in New Hope is that you must obey the sheriffs and do as told by them. That law was created to avoid chaos and to restore order in case a group of individuals turns into a danger to others, thus creating imbalance. However, the presence of sheriffs in New Hope is discreet; they only intervene in cases of extreme necessity and usually in armored vehicles. Do not try to defy them in any way. According to protocol, they are entitled to fire without warning.”
“Yeah… they say there are no laws in New Hope and it seems that, after all, is not true. I’m curious how many laws will eventually pop up.”
The presentation wasn’t lengthy. These were the overall notable things to be aware of. The group was then invited to another room where everyone received ammunition for their Tasers. After they all received their ammunition, everyone got on the subway. People were calm; some of them were even joyful. There were a few groups who indicated that they came to New Hope for fun.
Dylan thought it best to keep a low profile, not to stand out in any way. Since the subway train was full, he had to stand. He checked his bracelet time and again. The train was traveling underground, so there was nothing to see out the window. He noticed that the platform on each station was equipped with solid steel bars. There was an opening only near the doors. Many people had committed suicide by throwing themselves in front of the train. That opportunity has been removed.
At the third or fourth station, a group of party people got on the train. They were either drunk or high. They were laughing, talked in loud voices, and at one point started singing. They were standing close to Dylan, but that didn’t bother him. He had been expecting a somber and tense atmosphere, where everyone suspected one another of something. Fights everywhere, maybe even murders and rapes. It was too early for him to get a handle on it, but the jokes of the party people made him feel good. At one point, one of them wanted t
o take a friend of his in his arms, but the friend threw the first guy into Dylan. Dylan was on the verge of falling and thought he was being attacked. But two others hurriedly came to his aid to help him get up and apologized. They cursed the one who pushed Dylan and then went on their own business as if nothing had happened. Everything happened so fast that he didn’t have time to figure out whether that was normal or not. He drew his breath; it had only been an incident brought about by drunk people.
He eventually arrived at the station where he was supposed to get off, the 12H3 station. Each subway station had the same name as the area where it was located. Dylan went up to the surface and couldn’t believe his eyes.
The streets were clean. About 500 meters away was a park where at least twenty people were exercising. The buildings were mostly in shipshape condition. And, most importantly, people were on the streets. People who were fluttering about, without looking at each other. Only the lack of cars made the atmosphere different from the city he used to live in. His ward wasn’t far from the subway station. He went straight to it with a sense of relief.
The doors of the ward opened automatically. He remembered what Johnny Robinson had said to him, that the sensors would identify him. Arrows pointed out the information desk. He had come here to leave his electroshock gun, as he had been advised to. He reached into the interior pocket of his coat where he thought the gun was. He was struck dumb with horror. The gun wasn’t in his pocket. How so? He fumbled through all his remaining pockets. He pulled off his coat. He shook it up. The gun simply wasn’t there. It had disappeared. What the hell had happened? Had he forgotten it somewhere? No… he hadn’t checked it since he received his ammunition. He approached the information desk, at a loss.
The Free City Page 4
