Gaia's Dream

Gaia’s Dream

by A. R. Caldwell

Cover Art by @thecosmicghost

Published by A. R. Caldwell at Smashwords

Copyright 2018 by A. R. Caldwell

***

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Please do not make additional copies of this ebook. If you want to lend it to someone else to read, then please let them know that they can purchase a copy from Smashwords.

Chapters

1. A Real Flower

2. A Future Without Humanity

3. You’ll Do

4. I Really Tried

5. The Joy Was Gone

6. A Rabid Dog

7. Everyone Remain Calm

8. You’re the Leader of the Rebels

9. Gio Giovanni: Quality Vendor and Mender of Steam Contraptions

10. I am the rock upon which this city was built!

11. The Sound of Shattered Glass

12. My Squad Is Always Ready!

13. Maybe We’re the Meat

14. The Sound of Thunder

15. I Hope It’s a Fight

16. Everything Was Distant for Gat

17. Rid of It

18. Mary! Mary Gold!

19. Johnny Just Looked Sad

20. Think Not Why

21. Good Cause

22. I Hope He's Smart

23. We Found No One

24. Wounds Teach Wisdom

25. Mark!

26. Gladiators Honor Their Promises

About the Author

Chapter One

A Real Flower

Gat Jones sat in a sewer tunnel. The tunnel was a cylinder with a canal cut out at its floor, and a catwalk was constructed along the curved walls. The stench was overpowering for most people, but Gat had become used to it, even enjoying it at times as it brought memories of being safe in seclusion. The sewage rushed on its way to the recycling plant at the base of the megastructure, a massive building that housed millions of people.

The sound of the rushing water soothed Gat, despite the smell, and he was glad to be alone. The darkness made him feel safe underneath the population above. No one would ever find him nor would anyone look. He breathed deep breaths and thought of the gladiator Mary Gold.

He felt the entire population of the structure above him. The vibrations of their steps reached down as they walked through the halls or drove on the streets, or from the slums where they hung their laundry on hooks on the walls. Children ran around their homes and along the courtyards that divided the wide, enclosed avenues on the middle levels. Gat smiled as he thought of them, kicking a ball or catching one, or running through the plastic grass.

He loved them all. Everyone in Friendship City was truly his friend and his love. He sometimes became sad when he delivered them beyond life. Seclusion was beneficial during these periods.

Mary Gold was probably at her apartment. The time was late at night. Gat figured he could go there. He would have liked to, were it not for the feeling that brought him down into the sewer, this sadness.

She is holding her child. I want to separate the two, and then take the woman, and leave the child, without touching either one, only the shadows will cover them. She is crying and she doesn't understand that I don't want to harm the child, the closer you hold your child, the more chance there is that harm will come to him, and I tell her this as I tell her to back off.

A rat made a noise a few meters to Gat's left. He looked in that direction and saw red eyes shining in the darkness. The shadows told him that they wanted it. They wanted to eat the rat and tear apart its flesh in a whirlwind of nightmares.

Go ahead, he mumbled. It's just a rat. Its life is meaningless, as it is confined to scavenging the remains of others. He nodded at his philosophy and understood that his body was tired.

The shadows reached out and shredded the rat in a terrible, grotesque fashion. A speck of flesh landed on Gat's shoulder. His hand brushed it off without ever really noticing it was there. The shadows rested behind him when they were done.

The woman screams and they attack and I direct them to her, not to the child, not to the child, and they go to the child and cover him. The woman is broken apart into nothing, all of her energy, her life, her existence gone.

Gat looked over where the rat had been and saw a rose in its place. He stood and stumbled over to it. A flower? he said. Here, in the sewers?

It's real, the shadows told him. We know it is. It was inside the rat.

It's so fresh.

The stem was bright green, but more yellow and almost brown toward its termination. The leaves were wet and sprang back to their place when Gat pressed down on them. He felt the softness of the petals, which was fantastic under his fingers. The rose was the deepest and most pure red color that he had ever seen.

It must be real.

It is real. We said it is because we know it is. What are you going to do with it?

The child is crying, the small boy who the woman was holding, is now crying and yelling and I don't know what to do with it, so I just leave it there. Someone else will find it, or if not, it will find itself and it doesn't matter anyway because I am satisfied and the shadows are satisfied.

Gat considered this for some time. He set the flower down on the catwalk, leaned against the wall behind him, and stared at the rose. His body became sleepy and struggled to stay awake. He was grateful for the shadows' silence.

Minutes passed, or perhaps an hour before he settled on his decision. I will take it to Mary Gold, he said. His heart fluttered when he spoke her name. Women are beautiful and graceful beings, and a rose is just the thing to symbolize that, as well as the fact that I would spill my life's blood for her. When Mary sees that the flower is real, she will surely welcome my love. It's perfect!

We think so too, the shadows told him. You should leave now and take it to her.

Of course I will, but I have to clean myself up first. I don't want to smell like sewer at the start of our new relationship.

Gat cleaned up and rode the steam powered train, which slummer ingenuity had built and now maintained. He rode the elevator up to Mary's floor and showed the guard his worker's visa, which was valid for one year, for Gat had not the amount of money in his savings account that was required to live on these higher levels of the megastructure.

The wide avenue beyond the elevator lobby was crowded with people about their business. Gat carried the flower in his hand, openly displaying it to the thick crowds that rushed by on either side of the avenue. A child who noticed this pulled away from her mother's hand to ask him, Is that a real flower? She had noticed the way the petals danced as Gat walked.

Why, yes, Gat said. It is.

Where did you find it?

Come on, Sally, the mother said, having regained her child's hand. Sally waited for an answer, although her mother strained to pull her away. Let's go.

It's alright, Gat said, bending down and smiling. I found it in a special place, and it is real. It really is.

The little girl reached out her hand and Gat obediently held out the rose. She touched the petals and motioned for her mother to do the same.

It's not really real, the mother said, shaking her head. No one would carry around a real plant like that. Despite her words, she felt the stem and the wetness of the leaves. No...what are you going to do with it?

I'm going to give it to my lover, Gat said, beaming.

Well, she'll certainly love you after that! the mother exclaimed, boasting a smile of her own. Now, let's go, Sally. She didn't get far before someone else approached them.

Hey I overheard, it's really a real flower? the newcomer asked the mother. He was burly man with doubt in his eyes.

It must be, I mean, it feels like one.

Hey, can I check it out?

Sure, Gat said. Mother and daughter walked away.

Nice, the burly man said. He felt the sharpness of the thorns with the tips of his fingers. Yeah, this must be real.

A rose? a nearby woman asked, who had been stealthily observing from a short distance away. A real rose? Do you have any idea how rare those are?

No way, a teenager said, who had fallen behind his friends and now stared at Gat's possession. I've seen real plants before, but just grass, never a flower.

I guess, Gat said, drawing back from the growing crowd around him. I guess you can all take turns looking at it, or something, maybe...

More people diverted from their planned paths to join the crowd around Gat. At first, people wanted to know whether the flower in his hand was real. Soon, the crowd became so large that others were attracted to it by the mere size of the thing. Curious newcomers were curious as to why there was a group in the first place. People at the edge of the circle stood scratching their heads, devising theories as to its cause, and wondered if they would get a better look if they pushed those in front just a little harder.

I need help, Gat said. He gripped the stem of the rose and struggled to keep its petals safe, lest they become crushed by the throng around him.

Just let me get a look, someone said, pressing up against Gat's shoulder.

Me too! I want to see it, a young person shouted, who was further back in the crowd and jumped to get a better view.

Help me! Gat shouted. Police, please help!

A few of the spectators tried to push the crowd back, but they were overwhelmed by the opposing mob. The shear number of aggravated individuals was too much for any impromptu volunteer force to handle. Gat fought to break free of the thick circle.

Step back! an authoritative voice commanded. Everyone move out or you will be shot! The crowd quickly separated to allow the action squad through, although it did not disperse. The squad was led by a stern woman, whose face was twisted in a sneer.

What's going on here? she asked Gat, identifying him as the source of the trouble.

I, Gat began. He paused to gulp. I found a flower. A real rose, in the sewers.

Yeah, right, let me see that thing. She took it from Gat without further ado and gave the plant a brief examination.

Please, be careful.

Why? she said, peeling back one of the leaves to reveal the thin barcode underneath. It's a fake. A good one, but a fake.

Oh, Gat said, or thought he said, for he may as well have been silent for all that happened next, as the action squad dispersed the crowd with their gestures and shouts, leaving him to simmer alone and clutch his fake rose. The people grumbled, and a few here and there began discussions about how they knew it was a fake all along. I just...I thought it was real.

So did we, the shadows told him. We thought it was real, just like you.

I am real.

You are, but the plant is a fake. It is too bad that we cannot help you with Mary Gold. Go back to your apartment now. Someone is waiting for you.

I'm tired. I want to sleep. Gat yawned. The shadows were silent. The crowd was gone. People walked up and down the avenue without a clue of what had occurred, and the world went on with its constant and sometimes subtle ways.

***

The slums were alive at night. When its inhabitants did sleep, it was on train rides or during a rare break at work. There was no holographic sky, no artificial trees nor grasses for aesthetic appeal. The walls and ceiling were made from metal. Here and there large sheets of scrap material covered the holes that were the result of age and use. The floors were grates to allow the drainage of fluids, which would surely have flooded the area were it not planned for.

The wide hallways were cramped with people who traveled from one bar to another, or else sat on boxes along the wall and sipped their drinks. The most popular was water mixed with nepenthes, a mild hallucinogen, and flavored with a chemical sweetener.

Gat made his way through the crowds, accepting drinks but never drinking. The smiles and cheers of the people were not enough to wake his tired body. Dazed, he bumped into some of them. Those near him drew back from his smell, clutching their nostrils in disgust.

The apartment he lived in was small and cramped. Four bunk beds were in the bedroom, each covered in a locked cage to protect its occupant's belongings. A small space in front of the door was the living area, part of which was taken up by a sink in the wall that only sporadically worked. Some kind of yellow ooze—Gat always thought it was algae—dripped down the cracks in the plaster from the ceiling to the floor. The metal floor was rusted through in two spots. Gat walked into the dim light inside.

Hey, it's the man, back from town again, Tom Barrier, one his roommates, said. All three of them, and two others that he did not recognize, sat in a circle around a large hookah that stood in the middle of the room. You gonna join us in this party? We got some nepenthes here, man, smoking it up.

You can inject it too, said Linda Flinch, another of his roommates. I have some needles I bought. We just have to remember to wash them, okay? I have to return them.

You can't return needles, Jeffery Strong said. Those are fucking trash. He smoked from the hookah that had been packed with nepenthes mixed with shredded plastic wrappers. A woman that Gat didn't recognize held an oiled wick over the bowl as Jeff inhaled. The second stranger was also female.

Hi, Gat said, staring at the girl with the dirt blond hair and the thin brown dress. She sat apart from everyone. He wondered where she had gotten the stool.

That's Mary, Tom said. His green eyes shone above a bright smile. She's a friend of mine, here to hang out. Not your Mary, though. He laughed.

Hi, she said, smiling up at Gat from her stool. I'm Mary Silver. She held out her hand to him.

I'm Gat, he said. He approached her and tried to shake her hand. She drew it back before he could reach it. He became angry, such was his desire to touch her, even so briefly.

Ah, ah, ah, I don't think so, Mary said. That's not how you greet a lady. She looked at Gat and kissed the air, extending her hand once more.

Gat leaned down and kissed the back of her hand, rubbing his tongue slightly on her skin. She pulled her hand back and rubbed the wet spot.

Go ahead and sit down, here, next to me. That's good.

Alright, let's cut it out, Tom said. The others had been watching the pair meet each other. "I thought Mary Silver here might want to introduce her friend, but I see that responsibility falls on me. Gat, I'm pleased for you to meet Gertrude Polis."

Hi, Gertrude said, now holding the flame for Linda to get a hit. She didn't look at Gat, whose arm was now around Mary, nor at Mary, whose arm was now around Gat.

Let me get a smoke, Tom said. His voice became louder with each sentence that he spoke. This sure is good stuff here, he said after his first hit. Wow, this is great. Gat, you've to try some of this. Gertrude really knows how to light it up.

Sure, Gat said. He wanted to look into Mary's eyes but found himself always staring at the hookah, or the wall, or the dim yellow light that hung suspended a foot below the ceiling.

Me first, Mary said. She removed her arm from Gat's shoulders and received the hookah hose. You light it for me.

Gat obeyed and watched Mary's chest as she breathed in and released in a slow, calm process. The flame fluttered at the tip of the wick.

Your turn.

Gat inhaled and the room became a jungle. Mary was there, but the others turned into animals. Linda was a snake under a bush and Tom was a gorilla staring menacingly from the other side of a river. Where did you get this stuff? he said. I feel like I'm really in nature.

It's good, right? Linda said. Her forked tongue licked her lips. If you inject it, you can get to the bottom of the ocean sometimes and see all the life that was down there. Back in the day.

Back in the day, like four thousand years ago, Jeffery said. His large bird's beak opened and closed as he spoke. There's shit down there today or yesterday.

Still, it's pretty cool.

I'll need a place to sleep tonight, Mary said, snuggling into Gat's shoulder. I can't make the walk home this late.

Alright, Tom said. His hands gripped the armrests on his chair and his face was twisted into a snarl. Let's all just hang out, okay?

Easy, Tom, Jeffery said. What's got you all rustled up? Just have another hit.

I'll get the needles, Linda said. I mean, if nobody else wants to, I might want to.

I might too, Tom said, staring at Gat and Mary, each of whom stared at the other. I just might like to try a needle.

Linda searched through her bunk. Gat's hand held and caressed one of Mary's.

I don't know why, she whispered into his ear, squeezing herself against his chest. I want to be close to you.

Okay, Gat said. His hand became limp. What if Mary Gold finds out? he thought. Well, what if? I'm sure she sleeps with other people all the time, and she probably makes fun of me while she does it, telling them stories of me crying because my passion for her is so strong.

Let's go to your bed.

Okay.

They stood and started shuffling their way toward Gat's bed, the top bunk on the left side.

Can't you guys wait? Gertrude said. We're still smoking this bowl.

Sorry dear, Mary said, looking back into the room. I'm cold, and I want to be warm. The bunks and metal cage clanked and squeaked as she followed Gat into his bunk. He unlocked the cage entrance, and they crawled inside.

I have a sheet to put up, Gat said. The sheet was very clean. Mary helped him pin it up against the metal mesh that covered his bunk, so that they could have privacy.

I'm not gonna stay for this crap, Tom said, standing in a rush. I'm outta here.

Gat heard the door slam as they finished placing the sheet. Jeffery said, Well, looks like it's just us and the bowl, ladies.

And the needles? Linda said.

Shh, Mary said to Gat, positioning him on top of her. Ignore them. It's just you and me here.

And so it was. Gat saw that they had left the jungle and were now lying on a beach. The ocean's waves crested and fell. The foamy surf brushed up against his toes and receded.

Just get inside, she said, lifting her dress to her stomach.

She is only a receptacle, a device for my pleasure, a doll to inflict pain upon.

Oh, she said as he entered her. Harder.

Harder, he thrust, and tried to get his hands around her neck and her throat. He wanted to squeeze the life out of her, but found himself unable, for his hands became numb and his thighs were soft.

Keep going, Mary said, for she had otherwise been silent.

He continued, but with less force, less conviction, and more doubt. Mary moved in such a manner as to excite him, but her attempt failed.

Oh. Mary shuffled under him. She pulled her dress down. I guess, we'll just go to sleep.

Okay.

Chapter Two

A Future Without Humanity

Gat woke up alone the next morning, dressed himself, and exited his bunk. The smell of burnt plastic was stuck in the air. Light seeped in through the cracks around the edge of the door.

We know what happened, the shadows told him. You are weak without us.

Gat stood in front of the sink and thought about washing his face.

We could have killed her.

He tried to turn on the water, but nothing came out of the faucet. I want to die, Gat said.

If you die, then who will accept our power?

You'd find someone. Tom snored in his bunk and sounded close to waking. I think it's about time I left. I need to work to pay rent, so I should go find some work.

The shadows were silent. Gat tapped the faucet a few times. A small stream of brown water dripped out. He washed up and left the apartment, walking aimlessly through the halls rather than heading in the direction of the train.

He observed the people with sidelong glances. Merchants stood at their market stalls that lined the halls of the slums. They sold drugs or food, and seldom water. Everyone wanted their drugs.

Gat had seen holobooths outside the mall. One could pay to enter a fantasy, whether it was an intimate rendezvous with one's favorite celebrity, or a trip to the moon. He had heard that it was possible, if one possessed enough credit, to install such a booth in one's own home. The slummers, who were unable to afford such luxuries, consumed drugs to escape the realities of Friendship City.

Everyone here is a slave, Gat thought. They all went to work in the upper levels each day, to obtain temporary jobs as maids or janitors, cashiers or cooks. They depended on the credit that the corporations provided. The companies themselves owed a debt to the Ruling Council, who, Gat had heard, lived in a space station that orbited the Sphere. The Rulers kept stable a dying civilization.

We should have died out long ago. The only purpose of those around him was to reproduce. Their offspring would provide the future workforce. Two or three generations of this workforce would pass before just one of the elite's did.

The world is dying and there is nothing left. Friendship City was the last city. It was the only real society that remained on the planet and had been alone for thousands of years. There was no escape and no development. Only stagnation existed. It needed change.

Gat had turned these thoughts over in his head many hundreds of times. He would think about how to solve each crisis, and how that idea should be spread. If only people would just listen to him, then they would understand how to free themselves from their hidden bonds.

It's too late for that, the shadows told him. You must cause change.

What can I do? he muttered to himself. Those who heard him dismissed him after a cursory glance. What can I do?

***

Some months later, Gat Jones sat in a bar on one of the lower levels of the megastructure. The place was dim and quiet. Plastic wood skin was glued to the plastic tables and chairs. The bar surface was sticky and the whole place reeked of cigarettes, stale beer, and old piss.

Flatscreens hung from the walls and displayed either the news or a gladiator match. The sound was muted. A band played raucous electric music in the corner; three were on stringed instruments, and the fourth played a horn. People were scattered about. Some played cards in the corner, and others drank or smoked alone.

Another one, Gat said to the bartender, who was a rough woman with an angry stare. She wiped his wet mug with a stained cloth before turning to pour him another beer. Alcohol was expensive. His tab grew larger with each passing hour.

An old man sat next to Gat. The man looked like he had seen years of constant suffering, but had somehow prevailed it all to live to such an old age as he was now, with hair in his ears and white on his head. I'd be careful, if I were you, the old man said. His voice reminded Gat of a machine that was broken in several different ways but