the Story Shop

  It seemed like days had passed when the ship began to tremble, then a sound like a cannon. I slid off the cot and crawled to the table, pulling myself to my feet. The ship began to sway, violently. I heard the announcement over the public address sound system. Had the ship had stuck something? I couldn't make out what it was. Everyone was to move to their muster stations, do not use the elevators, bring their life preservers. Staff was to move to their guidance positions, women and children first. I was frightened. Was this my last day on earth? Was this my punishment? Was this my...

  The door opened and some fellow shouted: "You're on your own," then left. I ran to the hall, filled with people carrying flotation devices, I pushed my way to the stairs and ran up. There was a crowd by the elevator, but that was a mistake. When I got to an open deck I saw that many lifeboats on an upper deck had already been dropped. I was not on a muster deck, but there was a small raft. Although the deck was inclined at a angle, I managed to crawl onto the raft. It was dark, covered in a tarpaulin. I saw the release mechanism and pulled the cable and felt the raft fall. I was perhaps two decks above the water line, but I hit the water hard. I could hear the shouting. I stuck my head out from under the tarp and saw that the great ship was now leaning heavily and people were jumping from upper decks into the ocean. I fell back into the dark of my raft and prayed.

  I was exhausted. The sounds of shouting faded. Only the sound of water splashing against the side of my raft. Why had I been so lucky? A raft of my own? It was early evening and I tried to stay awake, but fell asleep.

  When the morning sun streamed through slits in the tarpaulin, I awoke and felt wonderful. The ship wreck seemed like a bad dream. I reached up and pulled the tarp aside and stood to survey the scene. No ship, no other lifeboats, nothing but a calm ocean. It was somehow exhilarating. I collapsed onto the bottom of my raft and looked about. There was a sound and I pulled aside the tarp, pushing it into the sides of the raft. I was not alone!

  She was curled up against the end of the boat, perhaps sixty years old. How had she been able to crawl into the raft? It was not easy for me. It must have been difficult for her. I said "hello" but she didn't answer. She looked frightened. I said "Don't worry. Someone will rescue us", but she said nothing. "Do you speak English?" I asked, but she said nothing. What was wrong with that lady? "Are you okay?" I asked. "You must talk to me. We'll be okay but we must do it together." Still, no response. I was getting angry...and I was getting hungry.

  It's hard to remember, but it must have been three days before the rescue ship arrived. The lady had kept me alive. I had pushed the withered body over the side and was eager to tell the rescue crew that I had survived on rain water and small fish. They told me that an explosion in the engine compartment of my ship was the cause of its sinking. I imagine that was the cannon noise I had heard. I was also told that almost half of the cruise guests had been rescued.

  By the time I arrived in South Africa, I felt terrible. It was almost cannibalism, wasn't it? Yet, it was either feeding on that woman or dying. Did I have a choice? I vowed never to submit to my cravings ever again. The memory of those few days, the woman crying helplessly, then becoming weaker and weaker and eventually dying...it was almost too much to bear. Never again.

  I had opened a bank account in South Africa before I left home and I now withdrew enough money to buy a small house on the edge of Cape Town. I have few neighbours, do not socialize with those I have and want to keep it that way. I had bought and now raised the famous South African Boer goats which, I was told, had the best goat meat in the world. I am a happy man. Goat blood is delicious.

  The sex ain't bad, either.

  Chapter One

  The Plebes were gathering in the middle of Coronation Square, by the old fountain. I estimate a hundred thousand, each with the drab grey coat and black felt hat that characterized the Plebe rank. There was to be an announcement by the Overlords and no one wanted to miss it. It might be news about the war or modified rationing regulations or even a change in lottery rules. I could hear the murmur of muted conversations even though I was in my room on the second floor of a nearby tenement building. These gatherings always seemed hollow, to me. There was rarely anything of merit, never anything that impacted the lives of the Plebes–yet the crowds gathered each week to listen.

  I leaned out of the window and looked down. The usual fast food stands had opened on the periphery of the gathered assembly. Odd-coloured ground meat wrapped in soggy black bread with lots of yellow mustard to disguise the dreadful taste. The cost was a half-day's wages, yet there was a lineup. I rarely understood the mindset of the rabble who lived in this ghetto. As I was often told, there were over a thousand such ghettos in all of Panoramica and they were even more densely packed in provinces other than our province of Seedly. I often wondered how many provinces housed Overlords. Somehow I suspected that they gathered in one place, one elegant and graceful place with flowers and fruit trees and ivory-coloured buildings with real glass windows and a façade covered in flowering plants. I couldn't remember the name of such plants.

  I left the window and returned to my desk, pulling open the bottom right drawer and selecting the heavy book: Plants of Earth. Each drawer held such a reference book, my most prized possessions. I leafed through the pages until I came upon the name I was seeking: Trumpet Vines. I made a mental note of the name and the picture. I recognized the name although I had never seen the plant. Indeed, I had never seen any flowering plant other than the dandelions that grew through the cracks in the pavement. I doubt if any Plebe had seen a flowering vine or bush or tree.

  I put the book back in the drawer and opened my diary to my last entry, noting the date at the top of the page. It was a week ago when I had written about the bomb that had fallen across town, in Beaches Corner. Although called "Beaches", it had no beach. In fact, I don't recall any lake in Seedly Province. Although the sound of the bomb could be heard for miles, the announcement in Coronation Square confirmed that it was an enemy bomb. I remember clearly the fury of the crowd and the chants of "Help Us Overlord!"

  The call for help was always to "Overlord", as though it was a single person when, in fact, I'm quite certain there were thousands of Overlords. I had also noted, in my diary, that these bombings seemed always to occur just before the weekly announcements. I turned the page, picked up my pen, dated the page, added my name, Don Barkley, and began to write:

  It is unlikely that the bombings are from the enemy. They seem planned to occur before each weekly announcement. Although the Plebes must outnumber the Overlords by a factor of millions, the Overlords are worshipped as saviours…saviours who protect the masses from the unseen enemy. I truly believe that the Overlords are bombing the Plebes in order to preserve this worship.

  I paused. The Coronation Square announcement had begun so I set down my pen and went to the window to listen:

  Listen well, citizens of all the provinces of Panoramica. Last week we were able to repel and defeat the enemy who bombed Seedly Province in the area known as Beaches. Citizens of Seedly, you need no longer fear enemy bombs. We continue to patrol the streets of all provinces, weeding out spies and imposing security measures. In response to your expressed wishes and as a celebration of our victory over the enemy, the cost of this week's lottery will be reduced to seventy coins. Remember, the winner will leave the Province to join the Overlords.

  There was a loud cheer and the crowd began singing the Anthem:

  Hail to Overlord,

  Our saviour and friend.

  He makes us whole,

  From birth to end.

  He keeps us safe,

  Our saviour and friend.

  Chapter Two

  It was years ago, after returning from travels abroad, that I began to realize that I was not a typical Plebe. I had gathered many books–books that were not available to the plebes of Seedly–and I read voraciously. However, like all Plebes, I was employed by the Overlords. My title was census taker–because
I was good with numbers. that required travelling throughout Panoramics. However, unlike the average Plebe, I did not return my salary to the Overlords by buying lottery tickets. In fact, I had always suspected that the lottery was fake. Winners were simply shipped "elsewhere", never to be seen again…although there was always an announcement that suggested that the last winner was enjoying his new life as an Overlord. The word "elsewhere" was always used by Plebes to refer to some place other than Seedly.

  It was nearly a year into my travels abroad that I ran across a fellow who said he had won the lottery in Cordin province. His name was Garrett and he was sitting cross-legged on the sidewalk, leaning against a wall and holding out a cup. I didn't know at the time that he had won the lottery. I felt sorry for him and gave him a few coins, then decided I'd invite him for lunch. There was a sleazy cafe on the next block and the food was awful, but Garrett was delighted. After he had wolfed down his lunch I asked him how he came to be so poor, so destitute.

  Garrett mumbled between bites. He had won the lottery, was told he would join the Overlords, asked to board the interprovincial dory then was dumped in this place, called Juno. He had expected a welcoming committee, but there was no one here. He was without coin, without accommodations and without hope. He swore repeatedly between mouthfuls. "Bastards," he groaned. "It's a joke, a hoax, there are no lottery winners, just losers."

  When he was finished eating I ordered a couple of beers. Garrett drank his in a single gulp. While I sipped mine, I decided that I would seek out these Overlords. I wasn't listening to Garret. He was mumbling. After a short while we both left the cafe and he went his way. He had a smile on his face and waved. It had been his first good meal in days. I felt good about that.

  I sat on a park bench and wondered how I would proceed. Might I follow the flow of coins? They clearly came from the Overlords. Alas, I don't ever recall seeing an actual, physical coin. All financial transactions were performed with an allpad; every adult had one. You bought something from a seller then punched a transfer of coins from your account to his. Every one worked for the Overlords. At week's end, the coin in your account was increased by your weekly salary. I obviously couldn't track electronic money transfers.

  The weekly announcements in Coronation Square were piped in wirelessly. No humans were involved. In fact, only Plebes were involved in all Overlord-Plebe interactions. No one had ever seen an Overlord. The people who guided Garrett to the interprovincial dory were Plebes that had been given orders from the Overlords via their allpads. Although I spent almost an hour on that park bench, I couldn't think of any way to find the Overlords. Surely they had accommodations somewhere, surely they ate something, surely they drank...

  They ate something. Yes, I should be able to track the movement of foodstuffs. Some must end up with Overlords. I jumped up from the park bench. My task lay ahead of me and I was excited.

  Chapter Three

  I returned to Seedly to pack some things. I had a few days of furlough coming to me so I checked myself out via my allpad and left to inspect the crop zones. There were several and I intended to see them all. Surely I could follow the path of foodstuffs intended for the Overlords.

  The first crop zone was just a few miles outside Seedly and I checked into a dilapidated hostel. It was still early so I wandered about the area asking local Plebes about the transportation of foodstuffs and who decided what went where. In particular, I spoke to a fellow who called himself Wolf. He had a shaggy beard and even shaggier eyebrows. His nose was bright red, obviously from drinking too much of the crappy beer. He was a foodstuff manager and said that foodstuffs went only to Plebe districts. I asked how Overlords got their food. He just shook his head.

  I spent two days then left. Nobody was aware of anything shipped to Overlords. In fact, even if an Overlord order came in, nobody knew where the Overlords were located. I felt as though I'd have the same results in the other crop zones, but I went anyway.

  The next was a half day's journey and the crop was only wheat and barley. It took less than a day to determine that these crops went only to Plebe districts. My quest seemed doomed to failure. I stayed the night in a hostel filled with travellers. Many were migrant workers, but some were business people dealing in food import and export. My bunk was next to one of these businessmen.

  "It's been a hot day," I said.

  He looked up from his book and grunted.

  "I've been looking for those foods that are shipped to the Overlords," I said.

  He grunted, then smiled. "Forget it," he said. "I've been around every crop zone and nothing gets shipped to the Overlords."

  "Then what do they eat?" I asked.

  "How would I know?" he said. "Maybe they have their own crops...somewhere."

  I fell back onto my cot. Somewhere, yes. I needed to find crops that weren't worked by Plebes. That meant an flyover. Very few Plebes had access to flyers, and I was actually one of those few. After all, census taking meant traveling long distances. I jumped out of my cot and headed for the interprovincial dory. I'd go home, to Seedly, and sign out a flyer. I'd say I had made a small error in some Plebe count and needed to correct it. As usual, I'd make the argument on my allpad.

  It took more than three days for the approval to come through. I headed for the flyerport, showed the approval displayed on my allpad and the Plebe in charge gave me the go ahead. I was elated. I'd be flying over areas I'd never before visited. I felt that, somehow, the Overlords would be aware of my travel, but I could just explain that my direction finder was defective. I'd first fly directly north from seedly, hen in a large circle, avoiding Plebe districts. I had lots of fuel, so I could spend at least four hours searching.

  The countryside was boring: vast fields of weeds, desert, endless shrubbery. Nearly three hours had passed before I saw it. A silver dome rising from amid a dense forest. I circled the dome. It was perhaps five hundred feet in diameter, at ground level. There were no roads anywhere, no signs of life, just the dome gleaming in the afternoon sun. I noticed narrow spires rising from the dome. They looked like antennas. Perhaps it was an Overlord establishment. Perhaps it was a storage facility. I'd have to check it out

  I found a clear area just beyond the edge of the woods and set the flyer down. After checking that I had enough fuel to get home, I locked the flyer and started out to find the dome. The woods were quite beautiful, mature trees, small bushes covered in berries, wild flowers of all varieties. It took perhaps an hour to reach the dome and it was now quite dark. However, there were flashing lights around the base of the silver structure which provided enough light to reach the exterior. There didn't seem to be any door, but I did what looked like a small window. When I approached, I saw that it was some kind of air duct. I pulled at the grating and it came away easily, so I crawled inside. There was a light at the end of the crawlway. When I reached the end I could looked down into the belly of the dome. There were long lines of machines, but no sign of human life. Then I heard it and I recoiled, surprised.

  Listen well, citizens of all the provinces of Panoramica. Last week we were unable to repel all enemy attempts to destroy Daddon Province. However, do not fear for your Overlord will keep the enemy at bay until they are destroyed. In the meantime, we are pleased to announce that the lottery tickets are now just sixty coins, this week only.

  It was the weekly Overlord announcement. I heard a grinding sound and leaned out of the duct. Looking up at the canopy I saw a large opening appear, a kind of sliding wall, and a long metal tube was ejected through that opening. The announcement continued:

  Attention! Attention! Citizens of Seedly Province. Move out of open areas. Go into your homes. The enemy has released anther missile. But be certain that we will make him pay dearly for this hostile act.

  Oh God! That metal tube was a missile, directed to Seedly. This dome was clearly a reservoir of missiles for our enemy. I must stop the missile attacks. I must somehow destroy the enemy warehouse.

  But wait! Why was
the announcement originating within this dome? It was clearly of Overlord origin. Was I right? Were the Overlords bombing Plebes in order to preserve their position as saviour, to be worshiped? Was this an Overlord missile silo? But where were the Overlords?

  I couldn't get it out of my mind. The Overlords were bombing the Plebes. I knew I had to find the Overlords. I crawled back out of the air duct, dropped to the ground and headed back to my flyer. It was pitch black and difficult to see anything, but I was pleased to see the flyer, waiting patiently. I could hear the sound as soon as I climbed inside. The flyer was talking:

  Donald Barkley, return at once to Seedly. This flyer is outside permitted territory. You will be held responsible for your error. Donald Barkley, return at once to Seedly. This flyer is outside permitted territory. You will be held responsible for your error. Donald Barkley, return...

  I switched off the speaker, fitted the paraglider to my back, engaged the engine and lifted off. I would destroy the missile silo. I checked the fuel gauge: enough. In a few minutes I was over the dome, now barely visible in the moonlight. At about a five hundred feet, I hovered, opened the flyer door and leaned out. Reaching back, I disengaged the engine and jumped. The paraglider opened smoothly and I glided away from the dome site. The blast was deafening. I looked back and saw light rising through the open roof of the dome and dark grey smoke and small flashes of electrical discharges. If the dome wasn't completely destroyed, at least it would be out of commission for a while.