The wanderer - run

I was taken to the notary. The assistant governor designated me a civilian at the protest of the marshal guardian. I was given a luminous tattoo. It was a series of symbols merged together to form an image of the sun. It took me a moment to realize it was written in the language Perila the founders of this ship. My eyes were scanned and I was told that this tattoo gave me access to the entire civilian zone. My eyes will be scanned as I pass through certain places so no one can frame me. I was then taken to the interior decorator. An eight tentacled fashionista that exuded an aura of importance. She asked me what I wanted. I said to make my bed resemble the capsule bunker. Make the wall a free climber's paradise. Make room for plants and a table and stools that rise from the floor. A foldable and retractable couch to make the room more spacious or seats that double as storage. A decent space for clothes and food storage. A view of the galaxy outside all day and night. A small library for light reading. I requested a parking spot for my tiny ship in case of emergency. I was shown a storage unit where everyone kept their ship. I moved the Lexicon to one and was given the only key that could open the locker. I was asked to look at a residency in the Megapolis district. One section that has high rises that are also partial green houses. The rooms and the terraces are laden with all sorts of plants.

It is less of a city and is more of a labyrinth. I could go up twenty floors and look down to see what appears to be a functioning street. There are crosswalks and traffic. Then I climb up another fifty and look down to see that another street that appears to be four floors below me. There are winding streets that go like a corkscrew. It would go round and round for another eighty floors. One wrong turn leads me far from where I need to be. Then I would have to spend another hour or so going in circles before I reach my destination. The trains that travel through Megapolis travel in both directions. And sometimes it takes other paths. Thankfully bots exist that deliver food and other amenities. The taxi service is dicey sometimes so I have to tread lightly as I explored this place. If I find myself in a place that I like I can't retrace my way back because all the streets and buildings look identical. The residents would have great, great, great grandchildren before I figure this place out. This place gave me migraines so I decided to find somewhere else to live.

The next real estate on offer was called Suburbia. A five room house with a garden, a front lawn and a pool. There is a gated community not far away but they had a holier than thou attitude. Next was the underwater community. I had no intentions of being waterlogged for the rest of my life. The guardian marshal kept telling me to reconsider my status. So I opted for the custom built. A builder bot hauled over a honeycomb shaped cell and soldered it to a rotary in the southern hemisphere of the ship. The tables and stools retraced to the floor. The bunker is a hole carved into the wall. A soft mattress, a few pillows and a decent blanket. A wall jutted out in places my plants to grow. A few stairs that double as storage. The stairs led to my bathroom and closet. An exercise area and also a small mud room. Afterwards I was escorted to the greenhouse area to work as a gardener.

As I mentioned the guardian marshal wasn't pleased with my lifestyle choices or my new occupation. He insisted that with time he can convince me to be a hardened combatant. The governor reminded him that the law of free will dictates that he can't force anyone into anything. If his actions lead to harm of anyone or anything on board the vessel he will be evicted from this ship. That means permanently ex-communicated. Should he be seen anywhere near this ship he will be executed. So the man gave me several looks of rage before he stormed off to check security detail in the conference room. I was given a week to acclimate myself and then I will begin my job. First things first. Get some sleep. I woke up the next morning to see a change of view. There were spaceships in a similar fashion in different colors or sizes either ascending or descending to the lower atmosphere. According to the info bot I was in the Angel constellation where there are only resorts. There are residential areas. Only tourists roam the place. There are space cruisers and yachts that offer exotic foods. While offering certain beaches for a limited amount of time. Afterwards the cruiser goes to a higher altitude for a better view while people enjoy their dinner.

I began planting the leftover seeds from the horticultural planet. I placed the first aid kits and gemstone in one of the storage stairs. I placed the go bag in one of them too. I remember to arrange my clothes accordingly. Work clothes closest while leisurely and nightwear in the back. I requested an extension to place a kitchen and pantry. The extension arrived an hour later and it was fused seamlessly. I started stocking up my supplies. I placed a washer and dryer next to the fridge. I even got a recycler and a composter so there is a less carbon footprint. The next step was to figure out a route to take to and from work. The next was to develop a routine to keep my sanity. I was sent to grief counseling. I requested a civilian since the guardian marshal is spying on me to find a way to get me conscripted. The bot in question encrypted my sessions and if provoked it deleted all data before it would self destruct. The last was to figure an emergency route to my ship.

I walked out to go to a train station where a bot shaped like a train came to take me to work. It scanned my retina and took me to the evergreen garden. I was given the tasks of watering and pruning. The people were friendly and were happy to give me a few pointers. This is going to be good as long as I keep myself out of the guardian marshal's radar. He would drop by every now and then. But like I said. I am neutral. This enraged him greatly but he has no choice but to leave me alone. I wish Arcan was like this but unfortunately bureaucracy, capitalism and imperialism runs rampant. We have security in exchange for our freedom. In fleeting moments I wish I was in my grandparent's bakery.

I would be eating granny's handmade special occasion honey cakes. The elderly neighbors would be talking about conspiracies. I remember Granny asking them if they had inhaled either café or spice. Both are power narcotics or paralytic and sometimes a frightening hallucinogenic that make civil members of society into heart stopping brutes. Afterwards they will be speaking nonsense for the rest of the week. I remember the mandatory summer camps where I couldn't find a group to huddle with because I had all four elements. In the end I would stay with the counselors. I would join the activities but be told that I gave the team an unfair advantage. This hurt myself since I had practically nobody to talk to. I felt like I was a fluke. A mistake. Absolute blunder but in the end I exist so I strive to be something productive.

I made myself a promise. The day I turn eighteen was the day I leave this planet and find somewhere else to call home. I will try and not use my gifts to attract attention. The law allowed me to travel throughout Arcan from the ice palace in the northern and southern polar regions. To the fortress of the earth nation. The industrial sector of the fire forgers to the air manipulators that work as foragers in the mountain ranges. My gifts were trained and made second nature. All the while being hidden from the royal army. The head of the army or I called him sir hot air would keep an eye out for talent. He says some are born with talent while the others are lucky to have any ability . I wonder which category I would fit in. I didn't have to care what he said because I am far away. No matter what turbulence the ship experienced my house kept itself upright and undamaged it rotated to keep the apartment upright. I missed my time in Comorebi so I built a small rock garden in my living room. This sparked curiosity from coworkers who come over for dinner.