December 24, 2015.
Or should I say, MC 075.
While I’ve yet to get a hang of the Midchilda monthly system – which is slightly more complicated, given how their months developed due to the presence of two moons – adapting to the MC Calendar Year was a very straightforward affair; This was due to Midchilda having an orbit equivalent to that of Earth’s, thus making a year almost identical in length, give or take a few minutes. In fact, asides from a few exceptional cases the standard physics of solar formation would make an Earth-like orientation and orbital distance the norm for the many civilized inhabited worlds of Ordered Space, and would result in many of them having years of identical length.
... alright, I’m getting off on a tangent regarding astronomy here. If the course of my life had taken a different path, perhaps stellar inquiries like these would be the norm for me.
So which path do I choose now?
It had been two weeks since I stepped foot here in Midchilda, and I’ve done nothing worthwhile but stare at the twin moons, those gigantic masses up in the clear blue afternoon sky. My rifle was no longer with me – as the one of the extraordinarily rare civilians with a license to collect firearms for display purposes, Ms. Deborah had offered to buy my rifle, hence passing legal ownership to her. As long as she renders the firing mechanism inert, the rifle should be safe from inspections. One must wonder how she was able to obtain such a license despite her... unsavoury background.
The payment I received, plus some spare unused Mid currency given by Turing should be enough to sustain me for the following month if I stick to my budget.
Ms. Deborah had given me a few leads on job offers, but with no luck. It’s the same old excuses I’ve heard back on Earth:
‘You sure you want to be doing this son? You’re too overqualified...’
‘We’re no longer accepting applicants...’
‘A soldier huh? I don’t know what wars you fought back there, but I can’t work with your kind here.’
The same old excuses.
But there’s no hurry. I’ve got lots of time. And the money to cope with such times. And even if I did find a day-job, working 9-to-8, earning the dough... what then?
I have no plans. No dreams. No goal to work towards. I ran from my demons... but in doing so, I forgot to look ahead to where I’m going. Like someone lost who had been pointed to a good direction inside a forest: They say you can get out of there, but you’re still deep in the darkness of the forest anyway. Even in this world which is supposedly alien to me, a world said to be full of hope and possibilities, this gnawing emptiness remains very familiar to me.
An empty, unneeded existence.
Maybe I’ll find my reasons along the way. In the interim, there’s nothing to do but to familiarize myself with the world, and get acquainted with the various intricacies of the culture. I continued to walk, along one of the paths up this hill, overlooking the large expanse of nature known as Orange Quay Park.
A public park by the edge of the coast, it overlooks the main economic seaport that serves as port-of-entry to this bustling city of Riviera, and is also the largest park to belong to the Londenion district; the latter is affectionately known by the Mids as “Block 97”, due to the massive density of immigrants and descendants from Earth that take residence there. A good place for an illegal like me to hide in if I say so myself... and with Deborah’s main customers coming from Turing, her base of operations – which is separate from the portal location – is located at an apartment complex nearby, where I’m currently lodging. As to be expected, Earth culture is incredibly prevalent in this part of the city: lots of Christmas decorations and ornaments adorn the shops and businesses around Orange Quay; every tree and building in sight dressed up with flashy multicoloured mobiles, string lights, Santa figures, Reindeers, and even a massive 4-storey Christmas Tree in the middle of the park’s largest expanse. With Christmas Eve in only a few hours, it’s going to become incredibly lively in the city tonight.
All too familiar a sight... and I thought I had left behind all remnants of Earth in coming here. Only the twin moons prevented me from thinking that I was back there... back...
Home?
As if.
“[Riviera City News now brings you breaking news...]”
The distant but audible radio broadcast brought me to the attention of the people who had begun to filter into the park. The families with all their food and stuff, laying out their plans for the perfect picnic; The couples who flirt and frolick with each other, whispering sweet nothings to their special person as they walked hand in hand; the students, fresh out of school and looking forward to enjoying the upcoming weekend with their friends; the old men fishing by the nearby pond, with not a care but for a bite on their lures. And then there are people such as myself, the lone souls who come here looking to claim a little-wider than usual space for themselves for which their minds could roam free and think. I leave behind this public expanse, and make my way deeper into the park.
Beyond the delineation marked by the sudden increase of vegetation farther inside the park, is a solemnly quiet path, rough and unused. Most people dare not enter this place due to the dilapidated condition of the area; thick leafy undergrowth, unattended tall grass, and a dense forest canopy give this area a dark and eerie atmosphere. A tall, weathered brick wall nearly three meters high further in, sprawling with rabid vines imposes and intimidates anyone who dared to approach. But to the left, concealed by a tall redwood, is a small opening in the wall, created by bricks that had been shattered by the tree’s roots. It is tall and wide enough for a person like me to pass through unimpeded, and it is a gateway to one of this park’s best kept secret:
It is a small naked hill with a single tree on its summit, broad and tall adorned by large, orange maple-like leaves. Due to the undulating geography of the forest canopy surrounding the hill this spot is hidden from sight by any visitors to the park, and yet its south westward face gives one an incredibly vast and unimpeded view of the ocean, especially at sunset. It had been my secret spot for the past week, my “fortress of solitude”, that no one else knows. A place I can call my own, even if for a short while...
... But it seems someone had gotten there before me.
'Who is this?'
She sat there, this young lady, leaning against the tree, in the place where I used to sit, with her legs to one side and her hands tidily clasped on her lap. Such a reserved and regal pose, in the midst of a silent afternoon nap. Her hair of shoulder length was a bright blue – the first I’ve seen of such a color on someone that looked so natural. And she slept with such ease, such openness, a vulnerable state; it meant she really must have been that tired. But to go to the trouble of finding this place in her state...
I wasn’t about to bother such a beauty from her slumber... and I figured, company or two wouldn’t hurt. Quietly, I went around to the opposite side of the tree, and took my seat there. The view wasn’t as great, but then again I wasn’t really here for the view.
“What time is it?”
Fuc-
Her sleepily sounding question caught me off guard. Had I disturbed her from her sleep or something? In any case, I didn’t have a watch with m-
“It-“
“Oh, it’s almost four.”
She just answered her own question didn’t she?
“It’s a nice place isn’t it?” She asked, but I get the feeling that wasn’t directed at me. A feeling confirmed when she replied only seconds later:
“Yes it is. It’s a very quiet place... all alone here.”
She spoke softly, as someone just coming out of the reins of sleep. The reason she went through all the trouble of coming here to this spot was clear to me now: She wanted to talk to herself.
I’ve seen this kind of behaviour before. Someone whose dearest companions were the thoughts that resided in their minds, and who finds solace in the sound of their own voice, speaking their hearts out in monologue. And such people, who talk to themselves about their most intimate and innermost thoughts, normally shy away from any contact.
There was a sound of someone stretching their arms, and the sound of what wanted to be a grunt, but turned out to be a squeak instead, before she sighed.
“I like this place.” She said, sounding a bit more awake now. “I couldn’t have found it if I hadn’t followed that guy yesterday...”
I was being watched? I didn’t even notice she was there yesterday.
“I wonder what he was doing here...”
Good question.
“Thank you whoever you are.”You’re welcome.
At this point I’d leave her alone... but then I realized that the dry grass I was sitting on would alert her to my presence, since she didn’t seem to have noticed me yet, and who knows what she might think of me “intruding” into her private time. Besides, she had a most... pleasing voice to listen at. There wasn’t much on my mind right now anyway.
I decided to just listen to her ramblings...
“I wonder how Asagi and Mayura are doing... I hope those negotiations go well...”
Friends? Most likely.
“... no, I don’t think they need me right now. Mayura is a more persuasive negotiator. I don’t like those fiscal meetings, they always hold back on the budget... just last quarter they’ve reduced funding for the tech division by 20 percent. They want the best product but don’t give us the money to do it, it’s so frustrating...”
A female researcher?
“... but all I do is wait. That signal I’m supposed to track is gone... I thought it’d be somewhere around here, but it’s not... I know they can’t be here because of the meeting but... it’s so boring... And I’ll be doing this the whole week...”
Signal? Guess she's a field agent or something...
“I just hope nothing bad happens. The city’s so colorful this time of year. I know, a celebration about fat bearded men in red coats and horned equestrians pulling flying sleighs! It’s so strange... I know it’s supposed to be about the birthday of their savior, but there’s more of the fat guy than the messiah...”
Trust me, you’re not the only one who thinks that...
“... I hope they serve good food at tonight’s party. Shinobu always went on about ‘Christmas Cake’ and ‘Ham and Turkeys” and all... her favourite foods. I hope they have those, they sounded so delicious too...”
She sighed. And stayed silent for a couple of minutes.
“Shinobu... I really wanted to know more about this ‘Christmas’ you enjoyed so much, the occasion you looked forward to every year. You’re normally so strict and reserved, yet you always get so unhinged when this time of the year rolls round...”
Slowly the melancholy crept into each word she spoke...
“To think that tomorrow... is the 4th Anniversary of your...”
Silence. Then, another sigh.
“No no no no no, must not think like that. I know you once said that we shouldn’t mourn for you... but I think I have the right to cry at least once for you...”
If she did cry that very moment, I neither heard, nor saw it. But the sadness that her words left in the air was unmistakable to me.
“Shinobu... Merry Christmas to you up there.”
Then, a beep, like that coming out of a sci-fi style communicator.
“Julie! Where are you, we’ll come pick you up!” A new enthusiastic female voice asked over the unmistakeable subdued transmission from a comm. “Hope you weren’t bored!”
“Not at all. How’d it go?”
“SEKHOU DA!! Mayura secured some additional funding for us, you better thank her later!”
“That’s good to hear. I’ll be right out by the park.”
“Yosh! We’ll be there in five!”
Another beep signalled the end of that conversation. The rustling of foliage was a sign of her standing – she was leaving.
“Thanks for listening old-timer. I’ll see you tomorrow!”
And her footsteps faded away into the distance. Once again, the place was left all to myself. Quiet, serene, like nothing had happened.
‘See you tomorrow huh? Ms. Julie...’
Wait...
Who did she just back thank there?