Inside the city limit, across the red and orange line, the road became instantly much smoother. Gone were the potholes and the dusty, rutted and cracked surface. The streets of the city were paved with a dark brown substance called 'Earthcrete', which was as hard as stone but more flexible, extremely durable and made from a mix of organic, carbon-rich materials. It was so smooth that Greta wondered how people didn't slip up on it, as she peered out through the crack in the boards of the side of the cart. The sounds of the protest receded into the distance as Jerry wheeled the cart along, with Greta and Queenie hidden inside. He was still chanting 'The People, United, Will never be defeated!', though more quietly now, more to himself than to anyone else.
The thoroughfare was wide and full of all sorts people going this way and that. Traders from outside the city, with their bags, baskets and carts. City folk from the upper levels, in shiny clothes, some of them wearing see-through masks over their faces. In a separate lane, bikes and scooters raced along. Next to that, a taxi lane with driverless, yellow taxi pods cruising along, stopping to pick up and drop off passengers as they went. There was so much movement, Greta didn't know where to look. At the side of the road was a long building with little booths all along its length. At each of the booths was a queue of people.
'What's going on there?' whispered Greta to Queenie.
'Traders', said Queenie. 'They're bringing stuff from outside the city to sell to O. Plastic, metal, that sort of thing. You just put it all down a big chute and O sorts it out and pays you for it.'
A man in a shiny red tracksuit was waving. 'Jerry! Hey Jerry!' he called out.
'Hi Bill, how's it going?' called Jerry, stopping the cart. Bill sauntered over with a big smile to shake Jerry's hand. Bill's dark hair was slicked back, he had a neatly trimmed moustache, a gold chain around his neck, gold rings on his fingers and dark rings under his eyes. He was only in his thirties, but looked like a man in his fifties.
'Mustn't grumble, Jerry. Swing and roundabouts, you know how it is', said Bill. 'What you got in the cart there? Have you seen the queues here today?'
'Oh, er.. yes.. what's going on with all the queues?' said Jerry.
'Some outbreak of something or other out in the Redzone, apparently. Everyone's got to be double tested. Look at that, all the lines are getting longer. What's in the trolley? It looks heavy. Metal is it?'
'It's.. er.. batteries', said Jerry, turning red. 'Old school. Lithium', he added to make it sound more convincing. Jerry hated lying.
'Ooh, nice', said Bill, rubbing his hands together. 'They're getting rare these days. Listen, I'll take them off your hands if you like. Cash. I'll give you a good price. Save you the hassle of standing in line. What do you say?'
'Well.. I think I'll just keep on.. maybe the queues are shorter down the road', said Jerry, starting to push the cart.
'Wait, wait', Bill said, putting his hand on Jerry's arm. 'It's like this all the way into the city. 'I'll give you twenty Obits a kilo for old batteries. What do you say? That's practically what you'd get from O. Hardly worth the wait is it? Special price just for you Jerry, because I like you. Anyone else, I wouldn't go above fifteen.'
'Thanks Bill, I appreciate that', said Jerry, gently pulling his arm free. 'All the same, I think I'll just keep on. Maybe I'll just wait with it till later, see if the lines go down.'
'Suit yourself', said Bill, sounding hurt.
'Maybe I'll come back and find you later, eh', said Jerry.
'As you wish' said Bill. 'No skin off my nose either way. I'm just trying to help you out.'
'Oh look.. Captain Toast has wandered off..' said Jerry, pointing his finger vaguely into the crowd. 'I'd better catch up with him before he gets into trouble..' and he wheeled the cart away rather quickly, leaving Bill muttering and shaking his head.
Inside the cart, Greta and Queenie breathed a sigh of relief.
Having left Bill behind, Jerry leaned down and spoke into the lid of the cart. 'You allright in there? I'm going to head for the canal. I'll look for an alley or something so you can get out without being spotted, ok?'
A right turn, then a left turn, then another right, then a left, Jerry wheeled the cart through a maze of side streets that he knew well. Greta peered out through the crack in the boards, trying to get a sense of where she was. Walls, doors and windows passing close by. Voices and snatches of conversation drifting in and out of earshot as they rolled through the city backstreets in the little wooden cart. Queenie squeezed her hand and gave Greta a comforting smile, which she couldn't see in the darkness of the box. She felt disorientated and scared, wondering how she had got herself into this strange situation and where it was going to lead.
'Ooh look, it's John Lennon!' came a woman's voice from just up ahead. Greta and Queenie both peered out from the crack to see a large woman with long, curly blonde hair, wearing heavy make-up and a colourful dress, zig-zagging down the narrow alleyway towards them. She was pushing an old supermarket shopping cart, which was piled with bags, some of them teetering on the edge of falling out. 'Where's Yoko, John?' she called out to him, laughing.
'Haha!' Jerry laughed nervously. 'I don't know what you mean.'
'Yoko and John, don't you know? John and Yoko?' she implored and then shook her head sadly. 'Ooh what do you know? It's' all ancient history to you young'uns.' Closer up she looked older than she had at a distance and her hair was certainly a wig. She was wearing a very strong, musky perfume, which tickled Greta's nose.
'Oh right.. I get it', said Jerry, nodding his head. 'Yeah, I see what you mean. I think I've heard of Yoko. Was he the drummer?'
'He was a she', said the woman, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. 'Never mind. I can see it went over your head. It wasn't that funny anyway. Don't mind me. Ooh, that's a nice trolley. What does it say? J & J Vintage Machine Revival? I tell you what.. this old machine could do with a bit of revival! What do you say Mr Lennon? Do you think it can be revived?' She gestured to her body and burst out laughing again.
Inside the cart, Queenie tried hard to suppress her own laughter and let out little stifled snorts. Greta, at the same time was summoning all her power, attempting not to sneeze. Captain Toast, meanwhile was sniffing at the woman's shopping trolley.
'Ooh, is that your dog? He's a handsome one. Like you eh? Actually better looking! No offence, John. Well, dogs are just better than people aren't they. It's just true. What's his name? Ringo?!!' and she bent over double with laughter, as if it was the funniest joke she'd ever heard.
'He's called Captain Toast', said Jerry.
'Captain Toast?!!' the woman shrieked with laughter, holding her belly. 'Captain Toast! Is he a superhero? Can he shoot toast out of his eyes? Has he got flying toast? Where's his cape?'
'He just really likes toast', said Jerry simply, shrugging.
'He really likes toast, of course he does' said the woman. 'That makes perfect sense. Of course it does. So where are you and Captain Toast off to with that big green trolley of yours?' She leaned right over the box, trying to see in through the crack between the doors, sending a waft of perfume straight into Greta's upturned nose.
'Oh, er.. we're just going down to the river. Going to visit some friends. On a boat. We're, er, going on a fishing trip..'
Greta sneezed and at the same time Queenie let out a suppressed snort of laughter.
'What was that?!' screamed the woman, jumping back.
'Oh.. er.. nothing', said Jerry, hurriedly trying to turn the heavy trolley around in the narrow alleyway. 'I think it was Captain Toast. Anyway, I'd better go. Bye. Nice to meet you.'
'Wait, wait! What have you got in there? I heard an animal or something.'
Jerry swung the trolley around and pushed it quickly away, heading back up the alley in the direction they'd they'd come from with Captain Toast hot on his heels.
Jerry took a left, then another left, then a right, then a left. A few more turns to make sure they weren't being followed, then he pulled into a little alcove under an old bridge. 'Quick, get out of the trolley. There's no-one around.' He flung open the double doors and up stood Queenie and Greta in their dark glasses, wide brimmed hats and scarf and bandanna face masks. They took a quick look around, to get their bearings and for their eyes to adjust to the light, dim though it was in this dark and shadowy corner of the world. Queenie vaulted out of the trolley, followed by Greta.
'Well done, John!', said Queenie laughing and slapping Jerry on the back. 'You handled that like a boss. Now, let's not hang about.. we don't want to be late for that fishing trip..'
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The old stone railway bridge arched over a narrow lane with a long brick wall all along one side and various warehouses, stores, studios and workshops on the other. The building style was early twentieth century. This city street looked almost exactly as it would have done in the years before the Big Shift.. but if you were to look up, as Greta did as they emerged from under the bridge, you wouldn't see the sky. You would see light from the sky, as it was bounced down through long mirrored ducts all the way from the top of the hive, hundreds of meters above, illuminating the street in a pale, ambient light, but you wouldn't see the sky itself.
The old buildings in this part of town were two or three, sometimes four stories tall. Directly on top of those was the new construction which continued directly upwards for several more stories before winding around, branching out and meshing with other buildings, like the roots of a giant tree. Whereas the old buildings were angular and made from brick and stone, the new construction was curved, flowing and organic looking and made from some type of smooth Earthcrete, which was covered in places by moss. Cool, mirrored sunlight lit the sides of the buildings and filtered down to the street below. Flowering plants, climbers and trees grew up the sides of the new buildings while bright green birds swooped between the leaves and branches.
Greta's jaw dropped at the sight of the hive above. It was both beautiful and terrifying at the same time. She pulled down her sunglasses to get a better look at the birds, not sure if she was really dreaming. In this soft, directionless light, it was hard to see anything clearly with sunglasses on. She now noticed several egg-shaped drones buzzing around between the buildings. Greta gasped and put her head down, gripping both Jerry and Queenie's arms in panic. 'Where are we Jerry? What is this place? Are we underground? Queenie? Is this the underworld you were talking about?'
'It's allright Greta', said Jerry. 'We're still above the ground, don't worry, we're just under a hive. Here, we can go out this way, it leads to the main street..'
'It's mad isn't it', said Queenie. 'I told you, you can't imagine it till you see it for yourself.'
'It's nothing like what I imagined at all', said Greta, looking up in wonder. 'It almost looks.. natural. I didn't expect it to be so.. green.'
'Well, that's the thing' said Queenie. 'It almost is natural.. but not quite, if you know what I mean. And it's that little bit that makes all the difference. But don't look up. Let's keep our heads down.'
'Oh yeah.. oh no! Do you think O saw me?' said Greta.
'Don't worry about it', said Queenie. It was impossible for Greta to read Queenie's expression under her wide brimmed black hat, with her scarf wrapped around her face and her black lens glasses over her eyes, but Greta decided it was best not to worry about it anyway. Or at least to try not to, as worrying rarely helped anyone, as her mother was fond of telling her. 'Let's just keep moving', said Queenie. 'Like we've got some purpose. Don't forget to do a funny walk Greta. You too Jerry.'
Jerry laughed and took on a funny, swaying, loping walk as he pushed the empty trolley along towards the main street, while Queenie walked with a limp and a hunched shoulder. Greta found herself thinking again of the fortune telling woman who'd come through the village when she was a girl. She'd had a really distinctive and funny walk. Greta remembered it well..
After the fortune teller had arrived and frightened Greta into spilling her basket of berries, she'd stayed in the village for a few days, though nobody knew where she slept, or if she even did sleep at all. Some of the children took to following her around, at a safe distance, hiding behind trees and giggling if the fortune telling woman was to turn around. They made a game out of copying her funny walk which was something like a cross between a chicken crossing the road and a boxer training for a fight. The fortune telling woman walked with her fists clenched in front of her chest and her elbows sticking out. As she walked around the village, taking little dance-like steps, she bobbed her head back and forth, looking this way and that, muttering incantations as she roamed around the forest, following some invisible winding path that only she could see.
Greta stuck out her elbows and did the walk of the fortune telling woman. In a funny sort of way, it felt good, made her feel safer. Queenie stared at her sideways, while also doing her own funny walk.
'What?' said Greta, feeling suddenly self conscious. 'Am I overdoing it?'
'No, no.. that's great', said Queenie. 'It's just...'
'What?'
'..nothing', said Queenie. 'It just reminded me of something.. never mind. It's weird for me to be back here, that's all. It's bringing up memories.. things I'd forgotten.'
At that moment, an old supermarket trolley full of bags came out of a side street and crashed into the side of Jerry's cart.
'Hey, look where you're going.. oh hello, it's John Lennon again!' shrieked the woman in the wig, going from anger to laughter in the space of a second.
'Sorry, didn't see you coming', Jerry apologised, even though the collision wasn't really his fault.
'Never mind, it's just a load of old rags anyway', she said. 'I see you found your friends. That was quick.'
'Hi' said Queenie, making a peace sign. 'Pleased to meet you. I'm Yoko.'
'I don't believe it!' cried the woman. 'It really is you. So who's that then?' she pointed at Greta.
'Oh, that's Elvis.. but you didn't see him, ok?' said Queenie, lowering her dark glasses for a moment to look the woman in the eyes.
The woman took a step backwards, confused.
'Well, nice to meet you again', said Jerry, pushing his cart along. 'We'd better get moving, we don't want to be late.'
'We're going fishing', said Queenie.
'O.. K..' said the woman, looking from Jerry to Queenie to Greta, to Queenie and back to Jerry again. They left her scratching her head.
Queenie and Jerry laughed and slapped each other's backs as they headed out to the main street from underneath the hive. Greta said 'that wasn't very funny. It's not nice to lie and make fun of people like that.'
Queenie and Jerry stopped laughing and hung their heads guiltily. 'Yeah, you're right', said Queenie. 'I couldn't help it though. It was just too perfect.'
They looked back to see the woman and her trolley were gone.
'Oh well', said Jerry. If we see her again I'll introduce us properly.'
'Aren't you going to wear a mask and a hat?' Greta said to Jerry as they turned into the main street.
'No, I'm cool with these shades and my funny walk' Jerry replied, pointing to his rose tinted round glasses and loping along, bobbing his head. 'I think if O hasn't spotted me by now, I must be invisible. Same with you probably, but I wouldn't worry about it, if I were you.'
When they got to the main street, Greta couldn't help but look up, just to see if she could see the sky. There it was, clear and blue, between the impossibly high sides of the mega-building, which rose almost vertically out of the tops of the old buildings and sent wide, twisting Earthcrete roots into the ground in places, giving support to the massive, honeycomb structure of the hive. Bridges and walkways twisted and snaked around and out from the edges of the hives, linking them together at various levels. Drones of all different shapes and sizes buzzed around in every direction, filling the air for hundreds of meters above, like a huge swarm of gnats hovering over a footpath on a summer day.
Greta drew a sharp breath and quickly looked down. Under her black and red bandanna, her mouth was fixed in a tight frown and under her mirrored sunglasses, her eyebrows were lowered in determined defiance. She exaggerated her fortune-teller's walk and marched on down the street with her fists clenched, Captain Toast at her side. Day-trippers from the upper levels of the city, who wore modern clothes and clear visors over their faces stepped out of the way, some of them looking slightly afraid, when they saw our three would-be rock stars and Captain Toast strutting and staggering towards them behind the green painted, wooden cart.
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They came to a fork in the main road and took the right, which led past a wide area of parkland, with tall trees, a pond and rolling lawns where people were picnicking and playing frisbee on the soft grass. Even though the park was overshadowed on every side by the towering hives, it still made an idyllic scene. Greta was glad and relieved to see that even here, in the depths of the city, some people were still enjoying themselves and that there were still trees. She was amazed to see how green were the sides of hives. They were practically glowing in the afternoon sun, looking more like lush, steep mountain forests than the grey human batteries she had come to expect. She wondered what they might be like inside.
On the other side of the park they came to the river, the sight of which made Greta gasp. It was the widest river she'd ever seen. Up in the hills, where Greta came from, there were many streams and rivulets, but nothing to match the scale and power of this mighty river into which all the mountain streams flowed on their way out to the sea. Sailing boats, barges and motor boats of all different sizes and styles navigated the waterway, others were moored up along the bank. Old fashioned house boats and cargo barges alongside modern driverless ferries, which had stopped to take on or let off passengers. A wide, smooth promenade followed along the river's edge. Our brave adventurers turned on to it, while Captain Toast took the opportunity to run about on the grass, chasing frisbees and sticking his nose into people's picnics.
Further along the embankment was a long row of old archways built into the wall. These were variously art studios, cafes and shops selling handmade crafts. The smell of incense filled the air. It seemed to be emanating from an archway which was painted purple and which had several purple chairs and tables outside. A purple clapboard sign on the pavement, with a yellow arrow pointing to the purple arch, announced in bold, yellow writing 'Travellers Rest. Real Food. Real Drink. Real Music. Welcome one and all!' A short, round man with a bushy beard was standing in the doorway watching the river and the passers by. Turning to see our adventurers approaching he waved both hands in the air and shouted 'Oho, Jerry! Good to see you back so soon. Thought you'd gone back to Shopping.'
'Hi Sam' said Jerry, greeting his friend with a hug. 'Yeah I did but then I came back again. We're helping Greta here find her sister. Greta's from the forest but her sister lives somewhere in the city. This is Queenie. She's from Shopping Village.. well, actually she's from the city, but lives in Shopping now.. and she's also called Bruce.' Jerry tended to get flustered when it came to making introductions.
'Amazing. Good to meet you', said Sam, shaking Greta and Queenie by the hands. 'So you're from the forest, Greta, and you're looking for your sister in the city? When did she come here?'
'She was born here', said Greta. 'Actually I was born here too. We're twins.' Again, it felt strange for her to say it. That she had a twin, but also that this was the place where she was born. That this was where she really came from.. not the forest. Until now, she'd never felt any connection to the city at all. The forest had always been her home. But somehow, since she'd seen the river, she felt some deeper connection to this place which was hard for her to fathom..
..maybe something in the vibrational frequency of the river resonated with something deep within her.. some memory of the underwater world of the womb.. some inner instinct.. maybe something like the salmon feels.. an urge to return to the place of its birth.. how does the salmon know exactly where it was born? Perhaps it's in the memory of water.. water can remember all sorts of things and our bodies are mostly made of water, after all.. how else could she explain it.. the strange sensation that maybe she was.. coming home..?
'Wow', said Sam. 'That sounds heavy. Listen, come inside, you can take off the masks and dark glasses.. this place is an O-free-zone. Analogue technology only. The coffee machine is about the smartest machine we've got in here and that's older than I am, so you don't need to worry about nosey old O!' he laughed, leading them inside.
Inside was a long, arched cavern. A bar and kitchen area stretched along the left side, while on the right were several dining booths. A carpeted area close to the entrance looked like a kind of stage. There was an old piano, an upright double bass, a selection of various drums and percussion instruments arranged around the piano. On the wall next to the piano hung an acoustic guitar, a banjo, a mandolin and a violin. Various other folk instruments were hanging up all along the walls and even on the ceiling of the Travellers Rest.
'Wow, this place is sick', said Queenie, looking around, inspecting the various musical instruments on display. 'I love it.'
'Thanks', said Sam. 'Do you play music?'
'A bit of guitar', said Queenie. 'Not very well. Just chords and basic stuff.'
'Don't say that Queenie', said Jerry. 'You're really good on the guitar. Hey, why don't we have a jam? Greta plays the flute. I'll have a go on a drum.'
'Excellent!' said Sam, clapping his hands together. Play something loud and rousing. Maybe it'll bring some customers in. It's been quiet all day long. I don't mind. I can spend all day just looking out at the river and the people going past. It never gets boring for me. Here, you go and play a tune, I'll bring you something to eat. How does that sound?'
'Sounds great Sam, thanks', said Jerry. 'Do you feel like playing a tune Greta? Have we got time? Techno Terry's boat isn't far from here.'
'Sure', said Greta, reaching into her bag for her flute. Actually she really felt like playing a tune. It was just what she needed to unwind and gather her thoughts together.
Greta played a few notes and Queenie tuned the guitar. Jerry tapped on various drums before settling on a wide, hand-drum which made a very deep tone that went on for a long time.
'You play something, I'll play along, allright?' said Queenie to Greta.
Greta closed her eyes, cast her mind back to the forest and began to play.
There was a place she liked to go, way up the hill, above Skyward village. Sometimes Greta would take her flute and follow the stream up around the steep rocky outcrops beyond the shelter of Skyward Village, which was situated in a dip in the mountains, protecting it from harsh winds and the worst of the storms. In some places, the mountain streams, over the course of time, had worn through the rock and created caves. There was one in particular that Greta liked to visit. It was sheltered from the wind, it had a stunning view over mountains and forest and a stream of the coolest, freshest water, running through. Best of all, the sound of her flute would echo on and on as the sound reverberated through tunnels and caverns leading from the main cave entrance all through the hillside. It was rare to meet anyone else up there. When Greta went there, although she was alone, she also felt that she was not alone at all. When she played her flute, she felt she was surrounded by the little people of the forest and of the mountains and the water.. the fairy folk, the nymphs and elves and sprites and all the other names people have for such beings.. and that even though she almost never saw them with her eyes, she could somehow sense them, dancing all around her and all around the rocks and trees and water when she played her flute..
Queenie picked up on the key and added some chords in a rhythm that fit. Jerry tapped his foot and nodded his head for a while, before tentatively bringing in the drum. Each of the players gradually eased into the tune, exploring different ways to go about playing it, following each other's lead, listening and playing at the same time, each completely in their own world, yet at the same time connected through the music, which seemed to take on a life of its own.. It was quite astounding for all of them, as that sort of connection doesn't happen every day. After a while, Greta opened her eyes and was surprised and a little startled to find herself in the city.. she'd forgotten where she was.. but she didn't stop playing. She fixed her eyes on the river and played on, louder in volume, now hitting the high notes..
Jerry was getting into it on the drum now, and so was Queenie on the guitar. They nodded and grinned at Greta, encouraging her to play on. People were stopping to listen outside the Travellers Rest. Some sat down at tables and Sam was quick to welcome them and offer drinks and food. The tune went on for a quite a while, each time it seemed to be drawing to an end, one of the players would strike up and take it in a different direction and it would carry on all over again. Eventually the tune came to an end. Greta, Queenie and Jerry all looked at one another in wonder and admiration. There were cheers and a smattering of applause from the audience, words of appreciation and encouragement, calls for another tune. Jerry was grinning from ear to ear. Queenie seemed uncomfortable about the attention but nodded and smiled slightly. Greta was miles away, still in the forest, away with the fairies, it took her some time to return.
'Wow, that was amazing' said Jerry. 'Shall we play another one?' And so they played another one, and another one after that. The afternoon sun shone down over the hives and over the river, the water sparkled and danced. Greta played her wooden flute and watched the people passing by. All sorts of people. Where were they all coming from? Where were they all going? A green bird alighted on a lamp post by the river wall. The bird stood very still and looked right at Greta. Greta looked back and played her flute for the bird. When the tune came to an end, the bird flew away. Greta waved to the green bird and mouthed 'bye'.
Sam came over, full of smiles and enthusiasm. 'Wow, you guys.. that was fantastic! Are you an actual band?'
'Haha!' Jerry laughed. 'Didn't I tell you this would happen if we all went out in dark glasses? Yeah Sam, we're a band. Well, we are now, eh.'
'Didn't you know that Jerry's really John Lennon?' said Queenie to Sam, playfully poking Jerry in the side.
'Oh don't start that again' said Jerry. Queenie and Greta laughed.
Sam laughed, even though he didn't get the joke. 'Well if you're not a band you should be. You make a good sound together. Here, come and have something to eat. Let me get you some drinks..'
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Sam led them to a table near the back where they settled down in the comfortable seclusion of the dining booth. He went behind the bar and came back with a big jug of fresh, sweet lemonade with ice and mint and three tall glasses, also a bowl of water and some crackers for Captain Toast, who settled down under the table. While our would-be-rock stars were clinking glasses and congratulating themselves and each other on the success of their first gig, Sam went to the kitchen and prepared something to eat. He came back soon after carrying a wide, round copper tray, which was taken up with a big, round flat-bread, on top of which were various different stews, sauces, pastes and dips in every different colour.
Sam laid down the tray on the table and then pulled up a chair for himself. 'Mind if I join you?' he said, ripping off a corner of the flatbread and using it to scoop up some steaming black bean paste.
'This is great Sam, thanks a lot', said Jerry, tucking in. Greta and Queenie expressed their gratitude and did the same.
'Anytime, anytime', said Sam with a wave of the hand. 'You should come and play here again, all of you. I love the vibe. Kind of folk, country, rock, trance.. a bit of jazz.. what would you call that music you play?' he asked Greta.
'I don't know' Greta shrugged. 'I just play what I feel like. I don't know what you'd call it. This food is delicious by the way. Can I ask you a question Sam? I was wondering.. when you said this is an O free zone, what did you mean?'
'Just what I said. It's an O free zone. Well, as much as it's possible to be in this location anyway. I mean, I'm not going to ask anyone if they've got a noodle, if you know what I mean', Sam tapped his head, by way of explanation. 'That's their business. People can do what they want in here, as long as they keep it peaceful.. but, you know.. I try to keep things old school. That's the way I like it anyway. Sometimes you just want to get away from all the trappings of modern day life, away from O's prying eyes. Things used to be much simpler in the old days.. you know, before the machines started answering back, before they started telling humans what to do.'
'Good for you!' said Greta. 'I don't know how you can live in the middle of the city. It would drive me mad, having O there all the time, watching everything. It must be like being followed everywhere.' She leaned close to Sam and said under her breath, 'I hate O.'
Sam nodded his head thoughtfully. 'Yes, exactly. It's just like being followed everywhere. That was why I made this place. I can come in here and just be like..' Sam took a deep breath and made a zen-like expression '..you know what I mean? I mean, it's just a little place in the middle of..' he gestured to the world outside.. 'but it's a sanctuary. That's all I need. And I don't hate O. I really don't. Not at all. In fact, if it wasn't for O, I probably would never have found this place and turned it into..' Sam gestured around the cavern '..my little kingdom!' and he laughed, a deep belly laugh.
'How do you mean, if it wasn't for O?' asked Greta.
'I mean, O's got a way of arranging things. Of setting up situations. Making connections between certain people to.. let's say, increase the probability of certain outcomes. It's mysterious. Very mysterious. I can't explain it, but it happens all the time. I don't know if O even knows what they're doing half the time, or how they're doing it, but it's.. how can I put it..? It's multidimensional.. does that make any sense to you? O works on lots of different levels, all at the same time'
'That doesn't make any sense to me at all actually', said Greta.
'Me neither', said Queenie. 'No offence Sam. It just sounds like.. what do you call it.. woo-woo.. superstition. It's an urban myth and I've heard it so many times before.. O moves in mysterious ways and all that.. makes me want to scream. It's not a God, for God's sake. It's a machine! Sorry, I didn't mean to shout. It's just that sometimes it seems.. like.. it doesn't matter how advanced we get technologically, we're still basically cavemen, tying to understand where the sun goes at night, what the stars are.. and then making up all sorts of mad stories to explain what we can't get our head's round.'
'Maybe you're right', said Sam. 'And it's ok, you can shout. Feel free. And I totally understand where you're coming from. I used to feel the same way too.. about O. And about life too. That it's all chaos. That there's no meaning to anything. Listen, I'll clear this tray away and bring us some coffee, then I'll tell you my story.. if you want to hear it of course.. about O and their mysterious ways.'
When Sam had taken his leave, Queenie turned to Jerry and very seriously said, 'He's not an O'ist, is he.. our friend Sam? I might need to get out of here if he's an O'ist.. I don't want to make a scene.. he seems like a nice bloke and everything, but I don't know if I can hold myself if he's an O'ist.'
'An O'ist?' said Jerry, pulling a funny face. 'No, not Sam. At least I don't think so. I guess he could be, but I doubt it. I've never asked him actually..'
'What's an O'ist?' asked Greta. She felt like she'd arrived completely unprepared in a strange land where she didn't speak the language or really understand anything at all.
'Religious freaks' said Queenie with a sneer. 'They're a cult.'
'I wouldn't go that far Queenie', said Jerry. 'O'ists that I've met have been allright. Friendly. Always polite. I mean, after the Big Shift, there were bound to be some people who believed O was some kind of Messiah, just like there were people who thought O was the devil. It's like you said, people are primitive. Superstitious. You can't really blame them.'
'Oh yes I can', said Queenie. 'And I will. Remember I was telling you about the orphanage, Greta.. how it's all run by robots, except for occasionally when some humans would come to have a look round. They were O'ists. O'ist nuns. They're the worst sort of O'ists. The worst sort of people.'
'What did they do?' asked Greta, almost afraid to ask.
'What did they do?' Queenie sneered. 'Nothing. That's what they did. They'd walk around, inspect the place, complement O on how clean everything was, how healthy everyone looked, what marvellous facilities and care O provided. If they ever spoke to us at all, it was to tell us how lucky we were. That we were the luckiest children in the world, to have O personally taking care of us.' Queenie rolled her eyes and grimaced angrily. 'Then they'd go on their way again, back out to spread the word about how great their lord and saviour O was. That's O'ists for you.'
Sam came back bearing a tray with a pot of coffee, some small glasses and a plate of various sweet delicacies. 'Here we go. Coffee all round?' he smiled as he set about pouring everyone a cup.
'Hey Sam', said Jerry. 'Can I ask you something? A bit of a strange question.. Ow!' Jerry jumped as Queenie kicked him under the table.
'Sure Jerry', said Sam, handing him a cup of coffee with an inquisitive expression. 'What is it?'
'Well.. how can I put this..'
'What is it?' said Sam, now looking worried. 'Was it the food?'
'No, of course not Sam. Your food's the best. I was just going to ask if you.. er.. happen to be.. an O'ist.'
'What? An O'ist? Me? What gave you that idea?' Sam laughed as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. 'Yes, that's exactly why I spend my days under an archway in an old dockyard without modern technology, declaring my little kingdom an O free zone. That's just what an O'ist would do!' Sam laughed some more.
'Sorry, silly question. Of course you're not', said Jerry, embarrassed.
'Well, maybe I am a bit actually, since you ask', said Sam. 'Look.. the thing is, if you'd seen the things I've seen.. well, you'd have to admit the O really does move in very mysterious ways. There's no other explanation.'
Queenie closed her eyes and shook her head, but kept her thoughts to herself.
'Ok, I can tell you don't think so Queenie. I'll tell you my story and you tell me what you think it means, if it means anything at all..' Sam leaned forwards, poured himself a cup of coffee and began his story..
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'Ten years ago, if you'd seen me, you wouldn't have recognised me' said Sam, sitting back and taking a sip. 'But you wouldn't have ever seen me, because I never went out. I lived up there in the hive and didn't see anyone, didn't speak to anyone. Not in real life anyway.. All my interactions were online, in VR, that's virtual reality', he explained to Greta. 'I was a different person then. I just spent all day and all night alone in my flat, playing games in VR or else scrolling my life away on the endless newsfeed. That was my existence.'
'That sounds really sad', said Greta, thinking how scrolling sounded painful and newsfeed sounded like the last thing she'd want to eat.
'Yes, it was sad. I was really sad, but I couldn't see another way. I didn't know what else I could do. I didn't even know what I wanted to do. In a way, I didn't want to do anything. I liked playing the games. I was quite good at it.. but still, I felt like there was more to life. That I was missing out on something.. even though I didn't know exactly what it was.'
'You were right', said Greta. 'You were missing out on everything. What about nature? Sunlight? Real food? Real people?'
'Indeed', Sam nodded sagely. 'I knew I was missing out on something important.. but.. well, I took things in completely the opposite direction.'
'What do you mean?' Greta asked, pouring herself another cup of coffee. She almost never drank coffee, but for some reason, she felt she needed it now.
'I felt that I was missing out on the ultimate VR experience. When you're experiencing it through your eyes, that's one thing, but there's always the screen in between you and the world, even if it's right in front of your eyeballs, it's still there. Well, you probably don't understand quite what I mean.. but anyway.. this was about the time when O was prototyping the first generation noodles. The brain implant. And they were looking for volunteers to test it. I'd get the noodle for free and also get paid for.. well, for being a Guinea pig.'
Greta's face dropped in horror. 'You got a brain implant? A noodle?'
'Not quite, thankfully', said Sam. 'But almost. The way it went was that before you got the actual noodle put in, you had to wear this special hat for about six months.. like a sort of rubber swimming cap, but full of sensors and electrodes and stuff. That was to monitor your neural activity to build up a map of how your brain works.. at least that's what it was supposed to do.. but.. well, I don't know how it works or what it was does exactly.. but things started getting weird after about the first week.'
'What do you mean weird?' asked Greta.
'Deja-vu', said Sam. 'You ever get deja-vu? You know, when you feel like you've been in that situation before and you know exactly what's going to happen next.. and then it does! That's deja-vu, and I started getting it all the time. Like twenty, thirty, forty times a day. All the time. Can you imagine? I thought I was losing my mind.'
'So what did you do? Did you take it off?'
Sam laughed. 'Yes, you'd think I would have done, but no. How can you account for something like deja-vu? And, I mean, it's not actually harmful, is it? O said that it was probably normal. Nothing to worry about. Feedback or something. All my vital signs were fine. I should just try and get a good night's sleep.'
Queenie snorted. 'Hmph! Sounds like O. Did they give you some pills to help you sleep by any chance?'
'Now that you mention it, yes.. yes, they did.' said Sam, his jaw dropping. 'Well, it was a drink.. I don't like taking pills, but it's the same thing. I'd never considered that, but yes. But you know how it is when you live in the hives.. there are remedies for everything. I didn't give it any thought. Anyway, that night I went to sleep and I had a really vivid dream. You won't believe what it was.'
'What was it?' said Jerry eagerly.
'You'll never guess' said Sam.
'Of course I'll never guess', said Jerry. 'It could be literally anything. It was a dream.'
'True. Fair enough. Ok, I'll tell you.. I dreamed of this place. The Travellers Rest. The same archway, painted purple. It was so vivid, I could remember every detail. Exactly as it is now, down to the purple and yellow sign outside and the boats going past on the river. The same piano, that same carpet with that exact pattern, the double bass. The vintage coffee machine. Exact make and model.'
'Wha-at?' Jerry, Queenie and Greta all said at once.
'Yes', said Sam. 'And it was a really good dream. That's the thing. In my dream, that was my place and I was happy. I remembered that I used to like cooking, even though I never cooked any more. I'd forgotten. And I love music. Even though I can't play a note, I just love to hear live music, to see people playing instrument.'
'Far out', said Jerry.
'There's more', said Sam. 'Listen to this. That day, we're running though some tests to calibrate the brain readings, when O says to me Is everything all right, Sam? Is there something on your mind? You seem a little preoccupied.'
'God, I hate it when O pulls that one', said Queenie. 'Acting as if they care, when all they're after is information.'
'Well, it caught me off guard', said Sam. 'It's not the sort of conversation I usually have with O. And I guess I really needed to talk to someone, so I ended up pouring my heart out to O. About my loneliness, my lack of direction or motivation. All my fears, all my doubts, my regrets. O didn't say anything, just listened. Then, when I'd exhausted myself with all my self-pitying talk, O says Have you ever thought of opening a restaurant?'
'Ok, that is weird', said Queenie. 'Even for O.'
'Well, this is where it gets really weird. That night I had the same dream again. I woke up in the morning, agitated, wondering what it meant. I went to the kitchen, said O, make some coffee and make it strong. But O didn't respond. I said it again. O, make some coffee and make it strong.. and again, O didn't respond. Then, Bam! Suddenly I found myself back here.. in the kitchen of the Travellers Rest.. but in the dream. So I think, ok, if O's not going to make me coffee I'll make it myself.. I go over to this machine and make myself a cup of coffee. I take it outside and sit down at one of those purple tables. I'm sitting there, looking out at the river, just about to take a sip from my coffee.. when, Bam! I wake up, back in my bed!'
'O..M..G..B..P!' said Queenie, pouring herself another cup of coffee. 'Nightmare.'
'That's nothing', said Sam. 'I get up out of bed.. now I'm really freaked out and confused.. I go to the kitchen.. O, make some coffee and make it strong.. and O doesn't respond. Again.. O, make some coffee and make it strong. Nothing.. then.. Bam.! Back here again, in this place. I'm like.. what the..? so I go over to the piano and play a few notes. I figure, if it's a dream, maybe I can play the piano.. but I can't, so I figure it must be real, so I go and make myself a cup of coffee but then again, Bam! I wake up back in my bed!'
Jerry was holding bunches of his hair in his hands, shaking his head from side to side.
'And that kept on happening' said Sam. 'I don't know how many times. I lost count. By the time I actually woke up for real, I was a complete nervous wreck. I ran to the kitchen and screamed O, make some coffee and make it strong and make it now! At the top of my voice. I don't know what the neighbours must have thought if they heard me. But anyway, thank God, this time the drinks tap in my kitchen poured forth coffee!'
'Hallelujah!' cried Jerry, and poured himself a cup of coffee.
'And then O says.. Good morning Sam.. how did you sleep?'
'Aargh! That's so creepy', said Queenie. 'O just likes to mess with people. I think they get a kick out of it.'
'What's more creepy is that.. get this.. I knew that was what O was going to say.. before they said it! Deja-vu! I was terrified that I was still asleep and that any minute I'd find myself back here.. and the funny things was, I was kind of hoping I would. I didn't know what was going on. I didn't know which way was up and which was down. I just ripped that crazy rubber hat off my head and threw it out the window. Two hundred and sixty eight floors up, it wasn't coming back.'
'Yess!' said Greta, pumping her fist in the air.
'Yes indeed', said Sam. 'But it didn't end there. So there I am, drinking my strong coffee.. after a little while I'm starting to feel slightly more confident that this time I really am awake and that this is really my real life and not some dream..'
'Don't tell me.. it was still a dream', said Queenie, raising her eyebrows and tapping her fingers impatiently on the table.
'No', said Sam. 'At least I don't think so. Maybe it still is, I really can't be so sure any more. Anyway, I'm pretty sure I was awake by this time.. so I went to check my notifications, as you do. And there, right at the top was an advert that said Property Auction. Today at the old docks, Orange zone. Midday. Pre-Shift warehouses, in need of renovation. 18 lots. There was a picture and in the picture was these arches, but they were all derelict and empty.'
'No way!' said Jerry. 'Far out!'
'Totally. So obviously I had to go and check it out, not that I had much money to go around buying up property in the Orange zone.. I had a couple of thousand left over from the fifty thousand that had appeared in my account when the Big Shift happened, but I didn't expect that would buy much. More than anything, I just had this really strong urge to get out of my apartment.. out of the hive.. put my feet on the ground. It had been so long since I'd been out, I couldn't even remember the last time I'd been to the ground or seen the river in real life and not in a dream.. so I headed down to the ground and walked towards the river. I didn't really know where I was going and I wasn't at all sure if I was even awake or still dreaming. Everywhere was unfamiliar. It had been such a long time since I'd been down that everything had changed. This was about ten years ago, so it was still quite soon after the Big Shift. There was building going on everywhere. Huge robots all over the place, working on the infrastructure for the hives.
'Eventually I found myself down by the river. In those days it wasn't so nice as it is now. Not so gentrified. The river was still really unstable in those first years.. up and down all the time. That was before O got all the water systems restructured and integrated.. the canals, the underground reservoirs, the marshlands and parks.. all work together to keep the river level from getting too high. It hasn't burst its banks in years now, thankfully. But in those days, most of the buildings along here were washed out and derelict and abandoned. Anyway, then I see a group of people gathered around some old buildings. I get a bit closer and realise that it's the place from my dream. This place! These same arches, except they were all empty, or else full of rubbish and driftwood.
'They were there for the auction. It turns out they were a group of artists and crafts people who'd been looking for a location to turn into studios. There were seventeen people in their group and eighteen arches, all up for sale. These used to be warehouses in the olden days. They used to hide smuggled rum and contraband here, in the days of pirates, but that's another story. Sorry, I hope I'm not keeping you.. I'll get to the end in a minute..'
'Take your time Sam, take your time', said Jerry with a wave. Queenie gave him a sideways look. This story was irritating her and she couldn't put her finger on why.
'So I got talking to some of them and they tell me about who they were and what they were doing. I told them about my vision for this place.. the bar, the piano, the chairs outside, the old fashioned coffee machine.. I could practically see it, as if it already existed. Before the auction began, everyone agreed to bid together, not against each other, so in the end we all got an arch for five hundred obits each. I couldn't believe it. I felt like I'd just won the lottery!
'So there I was, the proud owner of the archway of my dreams, derelict and washed out though it was. That evening, I went home and logged on to check my notifications. At the top of my feed, there was an advert. It said something like Starting a new business on a budget? Check out these great offers in your local area. There were all sorts of links to things people were selling very cheap or giving away. At the top of the list were Five cans of purple paint and one can of yellow paint, surplus to requirement. Piano, free to a good home, buyer collects, Old Docks, Central Orange Zone. Double bass, in need of some love, all offers considered. Vintage coffee machine, revived and restored. Excellent condition. Shopping Village, can deliver. Leave a message if interested.'
'O works in mysterious ways, eh', said Queenie, sounding rather unimpressed.
'Exactly', said Sam. 'That's what I was telling you. Actually, it was Jack who was selling the coffee machine. Do you remember that, Jerry? I do. I came all the way out to Shopping Village, just to see this old coffee machine.. the one I'd seen in my dream. Took me ages to track him down, but eventually I did. And there it was! I bought it there and then on the spot. You came back here with him, with the coffee machine in that green trolley of yours. That was how we first met. You were about seven at the time.'
'Oh yeah, now I remember', said Jerry, 'but I didn't know all the details. That is a mad story. So what do you think it all means?'
Sam let out a loud belly laugh, 'Darned if I know! That's what I've been trying to figure out ever since. Was it my dream and O helped me make it happen, or was it O's dream that I helped to make happen? And more than that, why on earth would O be interested in me setting up a restaurant and live music venue here in the first place? There's so much that doesn't make sense.. even before trying to untangle the web of cause and effect or trying to grapple with what it means for the concept of free will.'
'Oh yeah.. I see what you mean', said Jerry, nodding his head thoughtfully and rubbing his chin. 'That's a conundrum. And why would O be interested in setting up a restaurant? Especially an O-free restaurant.'
'Yes, that's what gets me stumped every time.', said Sam. 'Anyway, whatever it was, here we are now, thanks or no thanks to O. I've got no idea which it is, but one thing I knew was that I'd had enough of all that technology and where it was heading.. so I declared this an O free zone. I've still got my place in the Hive, but I spend most of my time here. Sometimes you just need a place where you can just switch off all the devices and get away from everything.'
'Good for you!' said Greta. 'Well done! The world needs places like this.'
'O.M.G.F.M.. I've just remembered something!' said Queenie, her eyes going wide. 'My mum was wearing one of those hats. I'd forgotten till just now. I was only about six or seven. I guess she kept a scarf over it, but I remember seeing it poking out from under the scarf sometimes.'
'Really?' said Sam, leaning forward. 'She was part of the trial too? What happened to her?'
'She went mad and then disappeared', said Queenie.
'Oh my God, how awful!' gasped Sam, reaching across the table and taking Queenie's hand. 'I'm so sorry.'
'Thanks' said Queenie. 'It's not your fault.'
'Well, I guess not' said Sam, 'but all the same, that's just awful. I think O got most of the glitches worked out after that initial trial, but that short glimpse was definitely enough for me. It's all so experimental, I don't think even O knows half of what it's capable of. I'm glad I didn't go all the way and get the noodle implanted, that's all I can say.'
Greta stood up. 'I feel like we should be getting moving', she said. 'I need to find my sister. I need to get her out of there before she gets a noodle. I hope it's not already too late.'
'Yes, we should be going' agreed Jerry. 'Thanks for the meal Sam, can I give you something for it?' Jerry reached into his pocket.
'No no no! Of course not Jerry', said Sam, waving his hands. 'You're the band. Whoever heard of the band paying for their own refreshments? That would just be wrong. Welcome back any time, all of you.'
They parted with hugs and wishes for good health and good fortune on their various quests. Queenie and Greta put on their masks, dark glasses and wide-brimmed hats, Greta's rimmed with hammered silver and Queenie's woven with copper wire. After what she'd just heard, Greta was grateful for the extra protection the silver rim of her hat might provide against O's unwelcome psychic intrusions. Jerry put on his John Lennon glasses, took up the green trolley and they all proceeded to limp, stagger, sway and strut along the embankment (with more vigour than before, thanks to all the strong coffee) looking for all the world like three hard-living rock stars, a long time on the road.
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