Upon Stilted Cities - The Winds of Change

by Michael Kilman

  The lift halted, indicating the 12th floor.

  “Looks like this is my stop, Sir.”

  Daniels nodded without responding, deep in thought. The moment the lift closed and began its descent, Daniels shouted, “AI, full stop.”

  He needed to clear his head. Ousting Dr. Solidsworth? What in god’s name was the Senate thinking? Daniels hated most of the senators; they were a bunch of slugs. If they found a loophole in the charter with the architects, what other loopholes would they find? Could he himself end up as a Runner? Could they put the city in danger?

  They weren’t all bad of course, a few of the members of the Senate were fine individuals. That Senator Lightfoot, she was quite an interesting character. She was also beautiful. Senators Swanson and Howell had also contributed a great deal to helping children in Lower communities who might not have had access to the scholar school otherwise.

  “AI, roof please.”

  “Major Daniels, the roof is restricted to authorized personnel only. Please confirm your security code.”

  “8426FPA”

  “Thank you, Major.”

  The lift began its ascent. The numbers began to rise 18... 19... 20... Daniels decided that he didn’t like Fallman much after all. The little shit was arrogant, just like so many Mids with talent. Daniels’ descendants lived in the Lowers. He knew what it was like down there before the Architect had installed the new hydraulic cuffs. Anything that had not been nailed down was likely to vibrate right to the floor. After the installation, the Lowers became almost as comfortable as the Uppers, at least regarding the city’s movements. Some Uppers didn’t like that; they preferred the life of Lowers to be in constant chaos.

  His mind flashed behind him to the poster on the elevator wall; everyone must do their part... he scoffed, not Uppers. They were the parasites at the top of the food chain, sucking on everything that was good and right in the city. But what could he do about it?

  27... 28... 29...

  In a way, Daniels hated the alcoves and everything they stood for. On the one hand, it allowed some of the greatest assholes living at the top of the city’s skyscrapers to count their ages by decades and centuries. Yet, the alcoves were used to preserve specialists in science, in security detail, hell even the Runners used the alcoves when they weren’t on active duty. The alcoves had sustained the life of the architects for decades while they built the infrastructure for the very first migrating city. It had cured Alzheimer’s, cancer, heart disease, and just about every other ailment that afflicted man. It had been the miracle cure-all for everything, yet if it had come just a few decades earlier, the wealthy might have wised up about the changes in the climate. The course of the late 21st century may have been very different if those in power would have had access to live several lifetimes. Instead, the Uppers took possession of the top floors of the migrating cities as they had taken possession of some much else in history. From above, they watched with their lustful eyes and took whatever they desired.

  Daniels sighed and watched the numbers, 98... 99... 100...

  Now those same power-hungry nut jobs were going to toss out the last living architect in Manhatsten, a man who promised to take human beings out into the stars and to a new world where humankind could start over. Daniels believed him, and he hoped, not for his sake but for the sake of his 12th- and 13th-greats-grandchildren that Dr. Solidsworth could do it.Humankind had trashed this planet, and these walking arks had only meant to be a temporary solution. Now, almost 1300 years later, the stilted cities were still migrating, still extracting resources, still a band-aid on a bullet wound.

  The lift stopped at 105, the roof level. The door slid open. Daniels walked into his garden, his refuge from security. He sat down on a concrete bench and allowed himself to take in the fragrance of his vegetable garden. The tomatoes were doing well this year.

  He looked up at toward the sky. He could see the magnetic pulses of energy moving across the shield in rhythmic and hypnotic motions. Sometimes this was all he needed, to come up above the city and see the shield, to smell his plants and sit. He needed perspective. He needed to remember how small and fragile life was compared to the barren earth they roamed.

  He stood and moved toward the railing and leaned forward. He liked to feel just a little vertigo when he stared down across the nearly sixty square kilometers of Manhatsten. The city, all steel and only one park, was all that had remained of the great city of New York from ages past. It was the back of a porcupine with towers of various sizes jutting out of the elevated earth. The citizens of Manhatsten were lucky; they had green space, they had Central Park. Not every migrating city had green space. In fact, some were nothing but hard earth and buildings. Of all the cities remaining, only Lundon was bigger.

  Major John Daniels stared at the edge of his world. From his high viewpoint, he could see it clearly. Like the sailors of old, the people of the city feared to fall off the edge of the world. 2,283,506 people lived in Manhatsten as of this morning, and in a way, Daniels was more responsible for them than just about anyone else in the city. He was the city’s grandfather, their watcher, the steward of their world. Being up here always reminded him of that. It reminded him of his responsibilities, and it kept him from ending his life. Up here helped him remember why he kept using the alcoves, that he kept watching generation after generation of his descendants move into the eternal gardens. He had lied to Fallman. He still did have hope. Being up here gave him hope that, before died, he would see a world without giant migrating cities. All his hope lay in Dr. Solidsworth, the architect.

  Later, he would remember that old adage, “be careful what you wish for.”

  The elevator door opened behind him. “Major Daniels, I've been looking everywhere for you.”

  Daniels turned, surprised to hear a voice. Very few had clearance to come up to this roof. It had been one of his rewards for his first 500 years of service. They couldn’t grant his family higher status, and so to pacify him they had given him this space. It was a terrible trade-off, but he had grudgingly accepted it.

  A tall, gaunt gentleman stood between Daniels and the door. Meager scraps of hair clung to the edges of his scalp, and his narrow brown eyes looked somehow sandwiched between thick eyebrows and a thick mustache.

  “Johnson, what are you doing up here? You don’t have clearance.”

  “Sir, the AI unlocked the top level. We have a serious problem on our hands.”

  “What is it?”

  “Patton. He's been murdered.”

  “Patton, as in Patton, the chief engineer?

  Johnson nodded.

  “By who? Why?”

  “We don’t know, but all of the central command is on lockdown. Whoever it was had access and knows the ins and outs of the system.”

  Historian’s Note on Alcoves

  From: 835.12.1 I.S.

  Dear Reader,

  The scientific marvel of the Alcove, an invention of the year 2067 of the Common Era, revolutionized the health care industry. Discovered on accident by Dr. Rigel Solidsworth and Dr. Gupta Ramnachinin during a longitudinal study on cryostasis research for the purpose of deep-space travel and exploration, the Alcove had profound implications to the human experience. Virtually overnight, it was possible to cure all known human diseases. Additionally, the Alcoves stopped, and even in some cases, reversed the aging process. Deemed a miracle by the modern science of the day, both Dr. Solidsworth and Dr. Ramnachinin won the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine in 2068 C.E. In his acceptance speech of the prize, Dr. Solidsworth claimed that medical science had come so far that it had eliminated the need for itself.

  Unfortunately, Alcoves contributed negatively to an already complex and unstable geopolitical climate involving global climate change, lack of resources, and overpopulation. Even with the conclusion of World War Three the same year, the Alcove added to the post-war tension. Additionally, alcoves were also quite expensive in their construction and maintenance and only the more affluent hospi
tals and individuals had access to them. Thus, the Alcove became known as a kind of golden fountain of youth.

  For more information, including schematics, notes, and recordings from Dr. Rigel Solidsworth and Dr. Gupta Ramnachinin on their part in the invention of the alcoves, please visit library 9843 of sector 1907.

  Chapter 5

  The Senator

  "Senator? Are you in there?" Knuckles collided with wood.

  A tall, slender woman with shoulder-length dark hair and deep green eyes pulled back the sheets. Her naked body still sheened with the sweat of the previous night’s activities, glimmering in the morning glow of the EnViro shield. The woman swung her legs over the edge of her bed and lifted her lean body.

  She glanced back at her latest acquisition. His muscled form lay half under the sheets so that only a single buttock exposed itself to the morning air. She smiled. She supposed that the young engineer would do for a while, but boredom always came. Maybe if he brought his wife or one of his fellow engineers, that might keep her interest a little longer. Just a little.

  The knocking resumed.

  Tera stood and walked toward the door. The caress of the morning air felt good on her bare skin. She grabbed the long silver handles and opened the large, dark, wooden door.

  “Oh...”

  Tera smiled as her assistant averted her eyes.

  “Senator, I'm sorry, I didn't know if you were in there or that you weren't dressed yet.”

  “Look at me when you are speaking, Vala.” Her voice was soft and sultry. A wolf’s smile.

  Tera wanted her to stare. She liked making Vala uncomfortable. Her young assistant was straight out of scholar school, and one day soon, she would find a way to join her in her nightly endeavors. Tera licked her lips.

  Vala steadied her gaze to Tera’s face. The effort made Tera smile.

  “Am I ugly, Vala?”

  Vala’s face flushed. “No... of course not... It’s just... um... rude to stare.”

  “Am I too old? Is that it? How old do I look, my dear?”

  “I don’t know, Ma’am, but you don’t look a day over 21.”

  Tera’s eyes narrowed, but she wasn’t scowling; a little smile spread across her lips. “So, you like what you see, then?”

  “Yes... I mean... No, Senator, I mean...” Vala’s face was turning a deep shade of purple, and she was shrinking back from the door.

  Tera laughed. “So what did you want, Vala?” Her tone flattened.

  “It’s Senator Green, Ma’am. He would like to meet with you in private before the Senate convenes.”

  “Did he say what this was about?”

  “No, Senator. He only said it was a private matter.”

  “Hmm. Thank you, Vala.”

  Vala turned to head back to her desk down the hall.

  “Oh, and Vala?”

  She froze. She did not turn. “Yes, Senator?”

  “You’re always welcome to join me in my bedchamber.”

  Vala did not move. She made no reply. Tera smiled, bit her lower lip, and shut the door.

  Her expression flickered between irritation and boredom as she remembered that she had to attend the Senate.

  The Senate chamber was a place of endless tedium; it was rare that they addressed any important issues. On the one hand, she knew the Senate was a worthless boring sham, a tool to appease the Mids and Lowers with the guise of representation. On the other hand, her position at the Senate gave her certain privileges and avenues that weren’t already present to a wealthy heiress. Her family, 7th richest (soon to be 6th, if she had her way) and most powerful in Manhatsten, often had things work out exactly as they intended. Her father was crafty in his ability to sway the opinions of others. A skill that she, at least in part, had gained from him, though as of late, tact was far less necessary. In some ways, she had been complacent. Even her father had said so. Blackmail was so much easier than persuasion, but her father warned her it would catch up with her one day. He was probably right, but damn it felt good to have so much power.

  She moved back over to the right side of her bed, reached down, and grabbed the crumpled heap of her gown. She pulled it up over her naked body, the sound of silk against her soft skin echoing against the void of noise. The fragrance of the material wafted up into her nostrils.

  She walked over to the glass double doors and stepped out onto her balcony, feeling the stillness of the air. Occasionally, the environmental systems simulated a light, and pleasant breeze, to help move some pollen and seeds around the city, but the wind was never harsh inside Manhatsten. The environment inside the city was often lush and green, a stark contrast to the barren world that lay just on the other side of the shield, just beyond the low wall at the edge of their mobile world.

  Tera looked toward the moon, or rather, its remains. Her great-great-grandfather had told her long ago that the moon had been much larger, a complete circle at times, but that the nations in the world before migration had all fought to establish colonies on it. It was one of the final wars of an old age, a war that left the moon split forever. It was an event that had flooded half the world for a time. Now, the moon, when full, was a misshapen, jagged crescent. The large debris from the terrifying explosion had just barely missed colliding with the Earth, and a small second moon was born, a odd shaped blob, only visible a few nights a month.

  Out the window, EnViro shield maintenance crews were working their way up the sides of the inner shell. Tethers connected several dozen maintenance men to some invisible point at the top of one of the twelve ribs that stabilized the energy for the shield. The workers danced, up and down, left and right across the inner surface, checking for energy fluctuations. Tera imagined them as ballet dancers following a set routine. Their feet pushed off against the energy barrier in rhythmic arcs, special boots protecting them from radiation burns. The monthly dance was a spectacle that Tera enjoyed watching. She almost never missed it.

  She went back to her room. Vala had left a tablet on the nightstand next to her bed with an itinerary for the day. So, despite her feigning ignorance, Vala had been in her room already that morning. Tera smiled and imagined Vala creeping around her bed, casting occasional curious glances at shapes under the sheets.

  Vala was lovely. That was why Tera had chosen her. She had grown bored with male assistants; they gave in too easily. There was no pleasure in the pursuit. Female assistants, though, ones who had never been with a woman before, were much more satisfying when they submitted. She would give it a week more, and then, she might put a little pressure on the girl. She smiled to herself. Greed gathered in the corners of her mouth, and a little drop of drool escaped her lips. She let it run down her chin before she wiped it away.

  She glanced over at her bed. The boy still slept.

  “Boy. Up and out with you. I have no more need of you today.” Her voice was hoarse and low.

  He stirred a little and turned over, blinking, only half conscious of where he was.

  “Go on boy, or running out of my chambers will only be the first day of running for the rest of your life,"

  The boy’s eyes widened. Tera smiled. There was nothing more terrifying to the Mids and the Lowers than the prospect of becoming a Runner. His eyes dashed about the room, probably looking for his clothes.

  “Never mind your clothes, they’re mine now." He voice was soft, barely a whisper. "Out. Now.” She felt a sense of glee at the thought of him returning to his ignorant wife, naked and begging forgiveness.

  He stood and moved toward the door. She watched, admiring him as he picked up the pace. She gazed at the network of scratches and bruises on his back. She had done that. Her smile widened.

  “Stop." The boy froze, his hand just reaching for the handle of the door. His body trembled, a rabbit, immobile and waiting.

  “Be a good boy and beg me not to make you a Runner.”

  His eyes widened, she could see gooseflesh rising on his young skin. He babbled before the words formed properly.


  “Oh please Senator, please not that, anything but that. I have a family.” Tears streamed.

  He sobbed a little but didn't dare look away. He looked hopeless, wretched, just the way she liked them.

  “Be back here tonight waiting outside my door after sundown.”

  “But Senator, my wife... I...”

  He choked on his words; he was on the verge of unleashing a barrage of tears. Only a single tear welled up in his left eye before she cut him off. She liked them miserable, but she hated when they cried.

  “Bring her. Or perhaps you would both like to learn to run? I hear the EnViro Suits are quite heavy, and most women don’t last long out in the Barrens.”

  Terror and defeat flashed in his soft doe eyes. She knew he understood his choices. The young engineer stood, turned, and bolted out the door before Tera could even blink.

  Laughter rose through her entire body, throwing her forward in almost violent spasms. God, she loved being a Senator, but most of all she loved the power to make people do as she wished; all that tedium sitting in the Senate chambers had its benefits.

  Tera didn’t bother picking up her robe. She walked to her private alcove and stepped inside. It stood vertically. Instantly hot water ran down her skin, rinsing her body, the clear door of the alcove gradually sliding up to seal her in as it prepped the gel. The alcove swung downwards from its vertical perch and lay flat like a bed, with her inside. Then the green goop filled the container. She felt the tingling on her skin, in her hair, in her eyes, and she loved every sensation. It felt as if a thousand feathers were being run up and down your skin at once and sometimes the sensation would even bring her to orgasm.

  She gulped up the goop and allowed it to fill her lungs. Like amniotic fluid, it nurtured her, preserving her youth, rejuvenating every cell and destroying any object, foreign or otherwise, that might pose a threat. It had taken her a little time to get used to the sensation of breathing through the gel, but now she relished it.