Gloriana - Prologue

They call it Technological Symbiosis. The very nature of man has changed over time. The skills of the Ancestors have passed away, along with so many other inventions and myths. It’s been happening for thousands of years, but has greatly accelerated with invention of artificial intelligences.

When an ancestor’s feet became too cold, the sock was invented to keep them warm. Over time, soles were added and the shoe became the greatest invention of its time. Humans now had the ability to travel farther, brave climates, and expand around the world. This was one of the first times technology and biology joined together to advance the race.

In latter times electricity and automobiles changed the way humans interacted with the world. Where masses of men were required to harvest a crop, now a single man on a machine would handle the same work. With so much manual labor being handled by machines, this left a lot of men seeking a lively hood in another way. New industries were created requiring fewer practical skills and more intellectual skills. Men had to prove their worth to society in creative ways. These skills weren’t necessary except to expand the luxury of life for the already detached.

A crisis of gender came as fewer and fewer men were required, while the population grew at unprecedented rates. Disaffected youth skipped college education expecting no worthwhile employment in their future. A slacker culture metastasized around colonies of young people who ideologically throw off the demands of culture, while developing their own counter-culture which devours culture and repurposes it as a display of nihilist futility.

These colonies were dependant on the culture they presumed to hate, even while developing their own economies within the shell of the decaying world they adopted. They craved the advances of modern technology, and embraced it to pursue their own self-determination in a society that has no use for them.

But when the entire façade came crashing down, the skills of the Ancestors long forgot became the utmost necessity. The 22nd Century human became so dependent on electricity, running water, wireless communication, automobile transportation, and digital information than when it all came to an end, nobody knew how to respond.

It wasn’t like you could take your mobile computer out of your pocket and look up how to find clean water supplies, or how to hunt, kill and prepare animals. Once the battery died on the pocket library, you couldn’t determine which plants were edible without trial and error. It was tried, but at first instantly rejected as the palette had been used to commercially prepared foods. But as times became more desperate, and the last of the grocery stores were plundered, hundreds of millions of people became migrants looking for the very basics of life.

Those with the ancient knowledge had great power. With time, men had moved from working outside all day to getting physical activity in air conditioned buildings on machines that didn’t train any muscles to do anything required of those men who eschewed the modern way for the way of the Ancestors. These men may have used manual labor for profit, or as a hobby, but it gave them a great advantage over those who had not.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The last drop of oil was squeezed out of the Earth on a sweltering hot August day in 2112. The wars began years before then. At first, there was widespread debate over the fossil fuel reserves; but the politicians didn’t take it seriously. But when the reality of wells drying up came to the fore, it was unavoidable. Our society had become so dependent on petroleum that each nation was soon strategizing on how to control the remaining supply. Alliances were formed. Allies were betrayed. Before long, the world was ablaze in bloody battle.

The majority of citizens had no clue any of this was going on. They heard about the wars, but they mostly just heard about how the enemies were hell bent on defeating us, and we had to protect our way of life. Little did we know how much petroleum we used on a daily basis – everything from dish soap to the bottle it came in. The machines of industry fueled and lubricated by petrol by-products.

Some nations fared better than others in the perpetual conflicts, hoarding surpluses of oil. They were able to transition some industry to coal, ethanol, nuclear, and hydrogen, but these sources would soon run out, which was preceded by even more bloodshed.

By the time the majority of world governments collapsed, half of the world population would be wiped out. The remaining societies were those born out of necessity in alcoves away from the conflicts. But the rest of humanity was left to wander, making loose alliances to protect food and water supplies.

It would be a long time before the warfare died down enough that separate collectives, bound to the traditions of the Ancestors, would begin trade with one another.
And that’s where I come in.

The Elders of Western Gloriana were concerned about protecting the trade caravans between the colonies. Groups of roaming marauders had been attacking and confiscating goods, and something had to be done. A council was convened, and an Order of Marshalls was established. I earned my commission from Elder Hillary, and sent on my way.

My goal was to track down and capture E. Albert Hatswell, leader of the criminal organization Askatasun. And that is just what I intend to do.

To be continued.

Day Three

Crackling embers awaken the morning senses with warmth to cold feet, and the dry smells of smoke. Bill grabbed a blackened branch and prodded the grey soot, stoking the embers to flame. A crisp morning breeze billowed smoke skywards in a tempest of ash.

“Good morning,” Jim called out lazily as he exited the tent. Bill replied in kind, not taking his eyes off the glowing embers. Jim sat across the fire pit from Bill and sat in silence.
After three days in the wilderness, the silence of companionship comes with a new kind of familiarity. One of shared purpose. The pair prepared breakfast together with few words between them, and sat silently by the newly stoked fire as they ate.

“I’m thinking we should head on over to Twin Springs today,” Bill said, “I hear a lot of good things about that spot.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan,” Jim replied. “My friend Don brought home a seven-point bull from up there.”

The two companions were in the midst putting together their gear for the day. It was important to pack light, as they had to hike in a good seven or eight miles. They each brought along a bladder of water, and packs of snack food. When in the wilderness, you can’t run out of fuel or you’re dead. They each brought along a rifle, bear deterrent pepper spray, and a package of ammo.

After securing their campsite, killing the fire, and fastening their food in a tree, the pair set off eastward through the valley following the bank of the river as it snaked through the hills. The morning sun colored the crests with the colors of autumn mixed with the deep shades of the evergreens.

“You eat like a girl.” Jim was teasing Bill while they sat together eating their mid-day meal. “I’m not sure if you’re biting your food or tickling it with your teeth!”

“Excuse me for not unhinging my jaw and swallowing it whole, jackass!” Bill shot back.

“Shut up! I’ve been done eating half an hour ago, and you’re not half way through.”

Bill rolled his eyes and took another bite.

“Don’t worry, Bill,” Jim laughed, “it’s just a sandwich, it doesn’t have feelings.”

Twin Springs was tucked away in a gorge on the northern hillside overlooking the valley. As the name would imply, there were two springs feeding into a the river downstream. The hills surrounding the springs were thick with evergreen trees. Elk, deer and moose would often be found around the springs searching for water. This natural attraction is what made the area a destination for hunters.

Bill and Jim decided to move up the hillside as they grew closer to where the springs fed into the river below. They would use the cover provided by the trees on the hillside to move into the area discretely. Jim would take the higher ground about twenty yards beyond Bill as they quietly moved through the forest.

Step by step, Bill made his way through the undergrowth slowly, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He thought he had seen something up the hill ahead. The dry pine needles on the ground crunched with each step. He looked around to see if he could spot Jim’s orange vest through the trees. Nothing. Not even a sound could be heard except the occasional branch bending in the breeze. He crept forward still, carefully.

“Run! Run! Run!” Jim came barreling down the hillside towards Bill yelling, “Get out of here!”

Bill was stunned.

“What happened?!”

“Just go!” Jim yell, turning briefly before continuing his descent.

Bill couldn’t make sense of the situation. Why was Jim so terrified? But before he could gather his whits, he saw it. A massive figure came into view. It had deep brown coat like a young elk, yet it stood upright with thick legs.

“Bill! Run!” Jim yelled from down the hill.

A sapling snapped like a starting pistol feet from where Bill stood frozen in fear. With a quick turn, he began running.

He knew not to run from bears, but something about what he saw made him think this was no ordinary bear. He could hear the heavy steps behind him. While his legs pumped, he reached for his pepper spray.

Up ahead, a felled pine crossed Bill’s downhill trajectory. He leaped over it and turned to spray his pursuer. He was not prepared for what he saw. A giant face with jet black eyes, a barrel chest covered in thick hair, and massive arms with strong hands. This was no bear.

A shot rang out from behind him, echoing through the valley. The giant ape fell to the ground.

“Let’s go!” Jim grabbed Bill by the arm. “Get up!”

Bill ran and ran alongside Jim through the valley away from that place. They ran like they’ve never run before. This was one trip they would never forget.

Perspectives

This was not your average day. Certainly the day started average for Clare Jakes; the regular morning ritual. Nothing could indicate how things would change for her over the course of her day.

Winds blew through the metropolitan canyons of steel and glass bringing with it the transient late-autumn morning chill. Clare drew her coat tight around her midsection to fend off the cold. Two years ago, she committed to walk to work, but on mornings like this she sometimes wanted to just give up on the whole idea. Her commute wasn't long; only four blocks south, and two more into the eastern sun. The sidewalks didn't usually have much foot traffic, and today was no exception.

With over four-hundred treks down this same path, everything around her was so familiar it didn't register anymore. The corner convenience store tended by Mr. Nissar went unnoticed; just another grey wall in the periphery. The abandoned phone booth, home to scraps of paper and debris, but no phone; just an obstacle to avoid. Dear old Charlene out walking her tiny dogs only got a passing smile. Clare focused on her journey, and everything else was the visual equivalent of background noise.

As Clare approached her eastern route, Lincoln Ave., she noticed barricades blocking the footpath. Drawing closer, she could read a sign indicating the sidewalk was closed. She would have to take the other side of the street. Clare couldn't remember the last time she was on this side. It certainly wasn't at this time of the morning.

This new, yet familiar path brought an awareness to Clare of her environment. The sun warmed her face while the wind brought waves of cold air, providing a singular feeling on the skin. The glass windows sparkled, casting brilliant beams of light down to the street below.

Passing the old church on this side of the street brought a rapture of wonderment. The steep spires grasped for the clouds above. Overwhelmed by the immensity of the facade, Clare took in the small details in the plaster work, and the stained glass windows.

As Clare drew near the end of the block, she could see her office building up ahead. The fourteen-story building stood like a black monolith amidst smaller brick structures. From this angle, the sheer glass wall was more impressive than when she walked up the other side of the street.

Clare tried to spot her office on the fifth floor. Looking out the window offers a pleasant view of the distant waterway, with brown and yellow leaves framing the dark rushing water. From Clare's present perspective, the window only offered a reflection of the clouds, with a glint from the morning sun.

It could have been the fact that Clare never looked upon this building from this angle before, so she didn't notice that something was different. One floor above her office, a brilliant blue light pulsated behind the dark glass. Suddenly, the window pane shot out in thousands of sharp pieces, raining down on the street below. A deep rumble shook through her bones like a roaring thunder. Clare fell to her knees, stunned. Burnt bits of paper tumbled through the air like an apocalyptic ticker tape parade.

Clare looked up to where the window once was; she blinked in astonishment. Standing in the hole was a figure of a man crowned with lightning. Blue bolts like electricity orbited his head. From this distance, Clare couldn't make out any other distinguishing features. Curious, she got to her feet and sprinted towards the crowds exiting the buildings ahead.

Dozens of people gathered on the street below, looking up in bewilderment at the man in the window. Clare halted just as she came close. The mysterious man just stood there in the gaping hole. The zapping sound of electricity popped in Clare's ears; her mouth fell wide open as she gazed upon the face.

There was no face to be seen, only blue strings of light twisting about each other like a disheveled ball of electric yarn. But Clare could feel his eyes looking down at her. The feeling pierced her chest, and a feeling of terror overcame her. Like a young gazelle, Clare turn and ran as fast as she could.

Her legs pumped up and down, faster than she's ever done before. She kicked off her shoes in an effort to gain even more speed. A burning fear swept up her spine and into her neck. She didn't dare look back. Cries of panic and pain pulled at her from the crowd she left behind. Clare knew an unimagined horror filled the streets.

She ran, and ran.