A while ago, I had this crazy idea of maybe writing a book at some point of my life. So far, I’m not even close to finishing it, but since I have already written some chapters, it would be a shame not to share them with you guys. Enjoy.
New, Old Paths
„We have nothing, we are nothing and we will never be something” stated the withering graffiti on a grey façade of a house with even paler people inside. The cynical mantra of a generation with no place to call home, although nobody was starving or living on the streets.
It was the generation of losers, who had never lost. The kind of people, who saw the dirty mire of society as what it truly was, but who were too indifferent and unmotivated to ever change something about it.
Their lives were without purpose and goal. The mere act of getting out of bed was celebrated as a personal triumph. If they were able to do so at all. Each one of them thought of himself as something better; no, knew, that he was something better than all of those common people out there. These better ones understood, why the problems everybody saw existed, but no one was able to provide a solution for. But not one of them spoke about it, because people like them had no chance to be heard.
Why rescue a society, which did not want to be rescued? Their silence was at the same time the answer to the most fundamental question of all: Why?
The figure in front of the house snorted scornfully. He should have known, that waiting was not going to be avoided. At least it didn’t rain.
If the whole thing would have been a bad movie, it would start raining in this very moment. Granted, the thoughts regarding the recent years seem to be quite unreal and the graffiti above the hooded silhouette served as a reminder all too clearly. It was the first time for more than fifty years that he set foot onto the old world. Previously, there was no particularly reason in doing so and even now he started to doubt the idea, whether it was indeed a good decision to come back. For him, Earth seemed to be so repugnant and he involuntarily asked himself, how he was able to endure this place all these years. Then again, he knew, this was a possibility which would not repeat itself in the near future. After all, out of the Senate’s perspective, for years he has probably been the most unwanted individual inside the old world’s sphere of influence. Under different circumstances he had to fear of being the target of an assassination or a kidnapping. The rumours about the old world were far too familiar to him. But his contact was able to plausible ensure his absolute anonymity.
It started to rain.
His mood changed from bored to sullen. He missed his home world. Especially the climate was able to provide him with some pleasant memories. The old world had to deal with such incredibly annoying things like immutable weather. An almost excruciating situation. In Sangea, those things were long subjected to human willpower. For that matter, it was of not much surprise, that he was officially not allowed to set foot on Earth. Everybody who thought about it and was witness to the successes, which were achieved because of the special set of conditions provided by Sangea, had to come to the conclusion, that the people in power of the old world were to be eaten up by envy. Only too clearly rang their scornful words still inside his head. They branded those people, who wanted to build Sangea as traitors, dreamers and dawdlers. They never saw the opportunities which opened up, when enough like-minded people found the courage to create something which was never seen before.
He smiled grimly as his thoughts recalled the mockery back then. How wrong all the sceptics had been. Sure, not even the Sangeans themselves could have imagined in the beginning how fast the advances would happen, as soon as all obstacles were cleared. Nobody even dared to dream of the breath-taking velocity in which their civilisation achieved a level of technological skill, from which the people of the old world seemed to be hundreds of years away.
True, certain lucky circumstances accelerated the whole thing, but this did not reduce the impressive performance of the Sangeans in the slightest. One could have pitied the people who were left behind, but he had little sympathy for this kind of emotional outburst. In the end, it was the fault of those people, who didn’t want to come.
Each one of them was given the opportunity to leave his old life behind and to create something fundamentally new – without force, without rules, without morality.
“We gave them this fucking chance”, he muttered with a resentful expression.
“Shall they rot in their own dirt. They had the choice and they decided against it.”
A touch of doubt formed in his mind. Was he judging them too harsh? Time would probably tell. At least he was here now. This could be seen as a start.
He turned around as hasty footsteps behind him indicated incoming company. A young woman was running towards him. Water splattered away in all directions where her feet met the ground and it was obvious, that she despised the rain as much as the one she was going to meet. She stopped and put out her hand to greet him.
“Hey, sorry for being late. I’m Samara, but my friends call me Sam.”
He examined her hand for a moment before he responded accordingly.
“Cyrus.”