“Oh,” I said completely underwhelmed. “Thanks. Uh, I suppose I can put a map in it, maybe get my phone in as well.”
Barney shook his head and the others laughed.
Barney pushed the little red button on the buckle twice. The others very quickly grabbed their drinks. I did not. Before I knew what had happened a rucksack appeared on the table where the small black pack had been. I was now wearing my Prosecco and the glass was on the floor. Nick appeared out of nowhere. Normally he’d be asking who was paying for the glass. Today he just said, "What the hell! Where did that come from?”
My sentiments exactly.
“Pick it up,” said Stu.
Nick leant forward.
“Not you, Nick, Chris,” said Barney. The girls were both grinning Chase had her phone on recording the scene.
I leant forward and felt the texture of the fabric strap that held the top of the rucksack closed. The texture felt right, like a normal strap should, but it was like holding textured air. There was no weight. I stopped dead. Like a statue. My head shot up and I looked Barney right in the eye. He nodded.
“Go on, pick it up.”
My arm shot up almost punching the light fitting above the table. “What the hell!” I said repeating the earlier comment. My eyes told me I was holding what looked like a 50-60litre slim-line technical rucksack. It should have weighed close to 1.5kg. My arm told me I was holding something about the weight of an empty wallet, maybe as little as 100g.
I stared at the bag and then the group. I handed it to Nick. Who, as I had done, also involuntarily lifted it above his head. We all looked at Nick and the bag in silence. The pub had dropped into silence too.
“That’s spooky, odd, wrong,” said Nick staring at it. “Here, take it. It’s freaking me out.”
Over the next thirty minutes everyone in the pub had a go picking up the bag. Everyone was equally amazed and slightly freaked or sceptical. Most held it like tissue paper terrified they would be the one to rip it. Barney said he’d buy drinks for a year for anyone who could. A couple of young farmers that were at the other end of the bar had a concerted attempt that convinced everyone that it was either a miracle of modern science, some weird group hypnosis or plain witchcraft. I was firmly on the side of science.
Barney spent these thirty minutes explaining the bag to me as we moved from prosecco bake to typhoon. The girls stuck to prosecco. Some things don’t change. The bag was made of a graphene-based material and the frame of a chargeable graphene composite. Once charged, the frame would expand and give the rucksack its rigidity to hold it off the back of the carrier whilst transferring weight to the hips. This one had been custom designed to fit me.
The material was one hundred per cent water resistant and would require forces in excess of fifty thousand Newtons, over twice that of a standard climbing rope, to rip. And in total the rucksack only weighed ninety five grams. The material was also elastic so that although it only looked as though it had a capacity of around sixty litres it could easily hold twice that. More than I’d ever needed when travelling.
Beyond my understanding, the sack also had PV built into the top and back that charged a graphene battery housed in the base of the lid. There were three universal ports that could be used to charge or power devices. The battery could hold a ridiculous amount. According to Barney it was 10m mAh which would be more charge than my phone needed for three years! I struggled to comprehend all the details.
Stu, who had used all his experience to help design the miracle rucksack, continued to explain it to me. To be honest they’d packed so much into it I found it hard to follow everything Stu was saying. Something about an air distiller that could extract a litre of water from the air and more and more details.
And just as I thought he had finished his presentation Stu pulled out another smaller pack about a quarter of the size of the original sack. This also had a red button on it. “Watch this!” he said. Clearing a space on the floor about two metres long and one metre wide he set down the smaller pack pressed the button and quickly stood back. Before me was a one man bivvy. A single hoop at the head end to give head room. The outside was black and the interior a silver reflective surface.
“That’s awesome!” I said.
“With a capital A,” Stu said. “This was my idea. Along with the distiller, this sack can provide water and shelter. The bivvy is black for heat absorption and silver on the inside to reflect heat but it is made of a breathable graphene material so you don’t wake up sweaty. The base is constructed using the old self-inflating tech so you’re also insulated and protected from any rough surface.
“There is one other element the sack has. Fire. Next to the battery is a small rechargeable graphene match. Meaning only the Hulk could break it. One charge is good for a hundred strikes and it’ll burn for three minutes per strike. It's about five centimetres long and can be struck on any rough surface. It’ll only strike if being held by bare hands. That’s the safety feature. It eliminates accidental striking.”
“So,” said Amy joining in “You can carry stuff, you have water, shelter and heat. That’s almost a five-star hotel!”
She was right. The only thing missing was food. Otherwise, all survival needs were covered for in the one pack, and some!
As if reading my mind Chase said, “We could not get a 3D food printer in. The tech does not exist and you’d have to carry the nutrient cartridges anyway. But I did get you the latest one and a set of cartridges along with a new old fashioned Kelly Kettle, which I know you love. You need to have something to pack in this sack of wonder!”
“I… I… I have no words.” I stammered. I was speechless and silent looking at all these toys and the tech. Eventually, I said, “That much graphene must cost a fortune, like a mithril vest or something!” I was still in slight shock.
“Ah, that’s the rub. It still belongs to the uni. Well, the sack and its toys anyway. There is a tracking GPS in both the sack and the bivvy in case they get separated and the Uni wants it back in no more than fifteen months with a full report.”
“I think I can manage that.” I was somewhat blown away by this gesture from my friends and told them so.
“It looks like, what did you call it, the Tortoise?”
“No ‘Turtle’,” said Barney.
“The ‘Turtle’ has everything except a knife and I can supply that,” I said grinning. I think I grinned for about two days after getting this crazy mad tech.
“Hey, you may be onto something there,” said Barney. I could see his eyes slightly glaze over as his mind left the room.
“Back in the room, Barnacle!” I said.
“Oh yeah, well you know we can make stiff or metallic graphene. But we haven’t tried a knife! Imagine a knife atoms thick? You could probably cut through almost anything like a hot knife through butter! But how to keep the stiffness and tension under the forces needed to cut molecular bonds with something that's only atoms thick…?” He went starry-eyed again. “That’s going straight to the Uni techs. Thanks, man.”
After putting the small pack away in my flat the nerves and excitement of the trip began to build and I only slept intermittently. The next morning I got up late and went over to my parents for lunch. They wanted to see me a few times before I left again and to be honest I wanted to see them too.
As I pulled onto the drive I saw my brother's car already parked there. Fantastic, Will would be here! I’d only seen him intermittently since that fateful holiday in the spring…
The flowers in the front garden were mostly over but I could smell windfall apples in the air. That probably meant Mum was making apple juice and Dad, cider. I went in through the front door this time as the back was likely full of half-drunk wasps circling half-rotten apples.
“He’s here!” Will yelled as I went in. He came over and gave me an all too forceful hug. “You OK, man?” he asked in slightly hushed tones. “I’m still a little sketchy on the details about how you and Carla, A set up home back
here and, B broke up. I can’t help feel a little responsible for introducing you…”
“It’s OK, man,” I replied smiling through a mixture of real optimism and raw pain. That wound was now a memory but remembering the blow at the time was not forgotten.
“Mum tells me you’re off again, and that this time you might make it down to see Tim? You gotta let me know if and when you do. I’ll be due some more holiday and can save it up to meet you both in Oz!”
This was the first time I’d ever seen Will genuinely excited by the idea of travel. Even holidays were a rarity him. The one we'd been on together was his first in three years. I had no trouble believing he could save up holiday. Spending the savings, that was another matter.
“Seeing you both in Oz would be nuts,” I said. I was genuinely excited and a little shocked at the idea.
“Yeah, even Mum and Dad said they could come and make it a Holmes reunion.”
“What?”
“Yes,” said Mum coming through the door carrying a tray of apple juice. It looked very cloudy. I wondered if the wasps had been strained out.
“No need to look too shocked. Your dad and I can, and have, left the country in the past and we’ve got plenty of travel quotas between us as we haven’t travelled much in ages.”
“Hey up, lad,” came a bellow from the utility room. “I thought I heard you.”
“Hi, Pop. How’s the cider?”
“The press has broken. Xander is having to get me a new cheese. The old one had seen better days. But I used the old one to smoke a ham from Geoff's farm.”
“Sounds good!” I said hoping it did. I’d never seen the old TV show called The Good Life and my grandparents had said it was very much how my folks seemed to want to live their lives. I’d always wanted to look it up in the TV libraries to see what they meant.
“I take it all of lunch is from within five miles?” said Will teasing. He lived mainly on 3D printed food now. Considering he worked from home and had his 3D food packs delivered it meant he rarely had to go anywhere. His size showed this off well, although he’s no weakling.
“Three I think?” said Mum not joking.
“It’ll be ready in about twenty minutes,” said Dad. “You go through with your mum and I’ll bring it all in.”
Lunch was fantastic, what should I have expected? We sat late into the afternoon on the patio talking and catching up.
“Right,” said Mum standing up. “It’s time.”
“For what?” I asked. It was about 6pm and I was still full from lunch.
“Time to call Tim, we arranged it yesterday. If we go inside the 3D link will be more defined.”
I was excited to see and talk to Tim. I had shared SM with him and the occasional private link over the last nine months since I’d been back but not a 3D link. Will had given that to Mum and Dad for Christmas last year and I had not seen it working in person before.
I had not expected a one-half size rendering of Tim to appear in the living room. With the curtains closed he was almost solid, a hobbit sized version of my brother stood on the coffee table infront of me.
“G’day,” he said. His accent was becoming quite strong.
“Wowza, son!” said Dad. You never had a Devonshire accent but you are sounding very Oz now!”
“I’ve been here five years, Dad! Anyhow, how are y'all, eh?”
“Good thanks, bro,” said Will.
“Look I hate to be a killjoy but it’s really early here and early means busy on this estate. I only have a few minutes.”
“Good to know,” said Mum. “If we can come over around Easter or May next year you can finish work before we get up and then you can show us around.”
“Cracking! Holiday lie-ins, love ’em” Dad said winking at Mum. Will and I tried not to notice that. Tim pulled a face.
“Look,” said Mum shooting Dad a most disapproving look. “We’re here to give Chris an early Christmas present as he’ll be who knows where at Christmas…”
A blunt recovery from Mum that threw me yet again.
“What? No one told me. I haven’t got anything for anyone.”
“That’s the point you great, Trump,” said Tim. Any excuse to sledge his brother was always taken. He was becoming more and more Australian.
“Alright, boys,” said Mum. “Here.” She handed me a box the size of a shoe box. Mum had had the habit of getting me a new coat or walking boots when I went away, they were never quite been what I would have chosen.
“Open it then, man,” said Will.
“I’m getting déjà vu. I got ambushed in the pub last night very much like this. It’s a little disconcerting.”
“We know,” said Dad. “Barney, Stu and Chase have been busy.”
“What!” I said a little surprised. “But…”
“Wow! Wow! Wow!” said Tim. “Chase, who’s Chase. I know Carla’s history but who the hell is Chase? Look, man, you gotta get some control here. I can’t keep up. Do I need to extend this call for a Christervention? Again!” I could see him grinning at his own joke and my obvious discomfort.
“I’ll link you later and explain,” I said.
“I’ll link you later with the truth,” said Will joining in Tim’s fun.
“Let him open it, lads,” said Dad.
“Thanks, Dad,” I said and meant it. Brothers, who needs them?
“And I’ll let you both know what Stu and Barney have said about Chase and Chris and what they’re are all about. For what it’s worth Mum and I really like Chase.” Said Dad.
“Agreed,” said Mum.
“It’s doomed then,” said Will and Tim in unison. They then both fell about it in hails of laughter and would have high fived if they could’ve.
“Drop it,” I said. “She’s a new, very close friend I’ve met, okay, but we’re both agreed nothing's happening between us. That’s it.”
I started opening the box to more jibes from my brothers which I ignored and to which my folks quietly smiled. It was like pass the parcel. Eventually, I ripped off a layer of brown paper to reveal an object I recognised. I stopped dead frozen over the box my eyes fixed on the object.
“He’s seen it,” said Will. Everyone fell silent.
“Well, bro, do ya like it?” Asked Tim.
Slowly and quietly I pulled out a phone much like Barnacle’s super phone with all its cutting edge tech. This was the next gen. The same features just more pronounced and with an app for 3D mapping of the surroundings and 3D projection not only of maps but for calls like the one we were having with Tim. The main upgrade was that it was one of the new scroll devices running the new quill software. Meaning it looked like a standard smartphone that had been prevalent now for over a generation with no earth shattering changes. But this, this was what everyone had been waiting for. I’d only seen images. The scroll was just that, a tube with a sheet that pulled out of the side just like ancient scrolls. The sheet could then be written on, drawn on, have applications loaded onto it, used to project data. A true Swiss army knife of computers. Scrolls could be the size of a pen or the size of a roll of wrapping paper, or anything in between.
Yet again I was stunned into silence. I should’ve been used to it by now.
“Barney said you liked his phone,” said Dad. “And your mum always wants to stay in touch with her boys. It kind of made sense.”
“It’s fantastic!” I said eventually. “Barnacle’s going to go nuts over this!”
“He’s already set it up for you,” said Mum. “He’s even set up your SM profile so that it’ll back up any images or text you write onto specific groups so we can stay right up to date, all private groups, no public ones. I know Chase will want to see images of Puma Punku as soon as you get there!”
“And I expect a call from that thing in about eight hours, bro. Even if that means little Chrissy-Wissy has to stay up past his bedtime. But I’ve gotta get to work now. See y’all soon.” And with that Tim was gone.
I was ecstatic.
8.3Flights of fancy
The rest of the weekend passed in a bit of a blur. I spent a lot of time reading and working out schedules. Researching plane tickets and buying the air travel quotas. That put a dent in my savings. Twenty thousand extra for the year’s global pass. Cheap flights and the global backpacking my parents had enjoyed were a thing of the past or were at least until the hydrogen fuel cells kicked in. And then the new fleet of aircraft would have to be built. I was told there was a stockpile of fuselages of old style jets that companies were hoping they could retrofit. There was a pent-up demand for travel. The world’s populations were now so widely distributed. Especially families from the industrialised world.
I met up with Chase and Barney early in the evening to show them the phone they already knew about. Barney showed me how to use it as I was always a couple of years behind and this phone was proper sci-fi stuff to me. It even had its own weather station that could forecast up to twelve hours ahead. No app required! This stuff really is a miracle substance.
Chase was very keen to hear my initial itinerary. I planned on flying from Heathrow to La Paz in about twelve days’ time, around the 22nd October. This left me only a few days to sort stuff out after finishing work on the Friday and would mean I’d be arriving in early Bolivian summer.
La Paz is at a height of 3658m and is a mix of plateaus, mountains and deep valleys all very exposed to the elements with sparse plant life, very few trees and cold winds even in summer. The vegetation looked to be mainly rough dry grasses that to my British eye seemed to be permanently suffering from drought. In all it looked like a place that would struggle to support human life, let alone a large modern day population of that was closing in on 1.5million. When I compared the descriptions in the guide blogs with information I had read about the ancient civilization that lived at Tiwanaku and built Puma Punku almost 1,500 years ago there was no comparison. What we now call civilization has changed so much.
The last few months in Devon had affected my fitness and compared to La Plas I had been living very close to sea level. I wanted to reduce my risk of suffering from altitude sickness that I would be at risk of after arriving at altitude from near sea level. Especially as the temple complex of Tiwanaku, where Puma Punku is, is slightly higher again at around 4000m.
Disconnected (Connected series Book 1) Page 11
