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Annalise threw her backpack over her shoulders as she mounted her scooter. Julia had walked her to the door, telling her to check back for a decision. Later...there was other pressing Council business.
The pristine valley air relaxed her, hues revealed more each day as sparkling mountain snows receded. The aroma of a sprouting springtime green pervaded her nostrils, the earthy smell of a world almost in dream.
As she pulled out of the parking lot, a town patrol-drone circled in with a friendly greeting. Hi. What’s your name? She shook her head at the wonder, yet scientifically evaluated the feeling of security engulfing her. Like a character from a fairy story hologram, touching the semi-magic safe feeling of home castle. What one side, maybe all sides, of the human struggle inherently desired.
At Kiki’s age, she had listened attentively while her father Vince talked of the latest Calgary flood. As an engineer he encouraged math, three plus one is the fourth, she calculated then. And she entered high school before they made that night-time move. She felt so lucky to be here in this valley. Yet all girls, everybody really, should have this lifestyle.
The drone tagged along as she rode through the village streets. As their primary security technology, mini-drones patrolled One Valley on both BC and America sides, at times scouting beyond. But perimeter patrol drones carried more than happy voices; infrared nightcams, many with live ammunition firearms and laser burners...almost all had wrap strap capacity. The remote eyes and hands of the people, as ongoing Council discussion decided how they engage. When encountering a mover once simple detection was ascertained and an observation routine established, the question at issue asked how best to further interact. A boundary set with a threat, or, now she offered a way to allow what many wanted—an extended friendly hand.
As she reached the town’s edge the drone dropped behind and she sped south on the local highway past bright green leaves of huge black poplars. The bridge over the river lay ahead.
She thought of opposing views. Damn it, the theory was almost intuitive. Girls did lose community spirit as they grew, yet everyone knew the personhood they developed depended on social context. Puberty transition destroyed the most spirit, socializing with peers from other tribal stages. Much drag-back came from the T1 life sucks tribe. Many girls regained portions of their truer nature later as elders, but many didn’t, and much was lost. Unless they could design an improved social future.
Crossing the bridge, she glanced upriver towards the distant middle-of-the-valley hill. She had finished grade 12 living up on that hill, in that tiny house. Their Survival cell, her father always called it.