Shikata ga nai (what will be will be)- Episode 4
So i decided to continue with my speech, but before i could decide on my next sequence of words, i was lucky enough to break away from the grip of my passion induced oration in just enough time to notice the sudden change in the lighting of the room – it had suddenly gotten brighter, as freed from the shackles of an evil enchantment.
I had a mini epiphany in that same moment, i observed that there had also been a noticeable increase in temperature, which was an obvious pointer toward the fact that we had gotten a little too carried away by our argument. We had gotten overly immersed in our petty joust of words and almost failed to notice that we were nearly running late for the very ritual which we had been bickering about; the one we spent most of our childhood dreaming about.
Yes, i will admit to it. Does it surprise you?, is it a shock that even after all my condemnation for the ring makers, i still have fantasies about which sigil i may bear?.
I will admit to it because after all i am just an articulate mass of blood and emotions who was forcibly thrust into an endless battle against my self and my surroundings. I am just a man and as much as i fought valiantly to defy the ruling authority by taking on a persona which gave the impression that i could not care less about the Ring makers or their selection process, or about what sigil i may be cast although i had trained my self all my life to resist and denounce the beliefs of the simple minded – which to me was any poor soul gullible enough to buy into the philosophy of the ruling authority.
Despite all this, somewhere deep down in my heart i dreamed just like every other child of the sigil which i hoped i would eventually bear. I gave Richard a telling look and like clockwork we exhibited our trademark “friend telepathy” that had been one of the main reasons we got along so well in the first place. In certain instances, especially in situations where it really mattered, i and Richard could display what closely resembled a psychic connection, or more like a mental synchronicity that portrayed why we were still friends despite our numerous ideological and psychological differences.
In a single glance, one could know what the other was thinking; an ability that repeatedly came in handy whenever we were trying to escape the consequences of some kind of mischief we had perpetrated as kids and also in several scenarios similar to this one.
My room was suddenly as silent as Mugetsu (a moonless night ), you could hear the wind whisper and the distorted humming of land engines at a distance. From then on, no more words needed to be said.
I and Richard suddenly began moving in hyper motion, we realized we had to double up our speed if we were to make it to our Districts Emporium in time for the selection ritual. Richard was already fully dressed at the time which he first entered my room, so he began gathering everything he thought we might need on our way there while i quickly changed into an outfit which i had subliminally selected a few days ago from all the clothing that i owned.
We hastily made our way out of my room and almost bumped into each other on more than one instance as we made our way through the very narrow passage that lead out to the living room. We were in the living room for no more than a few seconds as we headed straight through to the door
and emerged into the expanse of space that was the heavily fenced square shaped surroundings of our apartment complex. We hadn’t said a word since we left my room and we had no intentions of establishing a dialogue until we had successfully made it to the grand emporium of district 10 where the selection rituals were scheduled to take place.
We got to the black lacquered metallic gate that separated our apartments from the savage, crime ravaged wild lands that was district 8. The gate was an intimidatingly tall structure, it stood at least twenty feet tall and just like the fences that surrounded the whole complex, was lined with electrically charged barb wires. It was safe to assume the whole structure was built with the intent of discouraging any who would ever consider scaling it or trying to gain unauthorized access into the building by any other means.
I knocked three times and a hidden compartment slide out of the left side of the large gate. It was the security cube; a small rectangular object that had randomly arranged numbers on it. I reached out, grabbed the cube, put in my key code and slide the cube back into the gate. It delayed for about 15 seconds, then the gate produced a small chime and the smaller entrance point on the left side of the large gate opened up. We were outside in no time.
The familiar sight of a rowdy district 8 was right on cue to greet us as soon as we were outside the gate. We weren’t phased by the general rambunctiousness of our district, but we realized that we now faced the task of finding quick and affordable transportation towards our destination.
Growing up in the “great confederate of Michanum ” every child from every sub sector in every district must have gotten accustomed to moving around from place to place with the aid of sheep owned locomotion engines. It was the cheapest mode of transportation around. Most of these Land ferries were usually constructed by the sheep sigil, and they looked roughly constructed; usually being made up of parts with different colours that would point to the fact that they were most likely salvaged from various metal scrap yards, so it was safe to say that on a normal day, the streets of district 8 never lacked for people of the lowest level of society – sheep and reprobates alike availing themselves for various services – running petty errands, lifting heavy loads for passing travelers, peddling poorly crafted counterfeit products or offering voyage on their roughly constructed land engines in exchange for meager sigil credits.
But today seemed to be different, everyone seemed to be moving at lightning quick pace, and all the land engines we had seen so far were full to the very last seats, with people carrying each other on their laps, while some even had people hanging off their rear ends. My ADHD attention deficit hyperactivity disorder pulled off a perfectly executed sneak attack; i peered intently at a particular stoutly built young man hanging off the back of one the most rickety looking locomotion machines, after I had strained basically all the optic nerves in my brain in an effort to get a better look at him, i observed that he was probably around the same age as i and Richard. I noticed however, that he had a steely look about him that made you feel he was a lot older than his age. Also, the bulging veins that webbed his hyper developed arm muscles suggested a significant gap in strength between him and us.
I didn’t have to be a lion cast math genius to be able to put all the variables together and come to the obvious conclusion that he was most likely born to lower sigil bearing parents, probably sheep or maybe one of the reprobates who bore no sigil at all and lived on the peripheries of civilization. I boarded this train of thought and it took me on a voyage from where i was standing to the very depths of our society and eventually into the “Thought Maze”. I was instinctively compelled as i always am to create a vivid simulation within the premises of my very active imagination of what life must have been like growing up for such a young man.
Born to parents who were found unworthy to participate actively in society by the so called servants of destiny whose initial function was to guide all people, irrespective of creed or social denomination towards a purpose that was best suited to their natural given talents and where they would be best fit to contribute to the betterment of our society. Oh how horrible and powerless he must have felt to have no say in society!.
Imagine being born into a world of servitude and given little to no chance of bettering your situation or increasing your station. Most sheep cast males in the Confederate of Michanum made ends meet by performing some of the most physically straining jobs in their respective sub sectors and districts, in district 8 it was mostly transporting of heavy goods from place to place for next to no sigil credits – more often than not they find employment from cheap skate, usually stag cast traders too greedy to pay the land engine tolls for the transport of their goods. I always found it funny and somewhat perplexing that people who were named as the so called sheep of the society had become by the power of their own hands the most resourceful and physically durable people of all the other sigils.
Should they ever band together and wage war . . . I had another stray thought.
The industry of the sheep was to me another glaringly clear indication that the Ring makers had lost all ability, if they ever had any to begin with, to properly determine where an individual would better fit into society.
My thought train reached its final stop and i returned back to realm of physical things and realized that the young man and the sketchy looking locomotion engine had both faded out of sight. Although I did not know who he was, i felt compassion toward him and i hoped that due to his imposing physicality, he would at least be considered to be cast as a wolf or at least a stag so he would have a chance to forge a better life for himself and for those around him.
I snapped back to reality and remembered the task which we had in front of us. We had to get to the emporium and we needed to board a land engine as soon as possible. People sped by me, male and female alike – some bumping into me, most without offering any kind of apology. Everyone seemed to be headed somewhere. District 8 was always like this, the only peculiarity in today’s case was that the people racing by me were mostly my age and it amplified the sense of urgency which i and Richard already felt.
TO BE CONTINUED!!!