Alternative Alpha

Chapter Twenty

"You deal with them," says the whisperer to his friend. "I just can't tonight."

"Alright," calls out the more rational of the two. "Come over here and join us."

The path leads us to a clearing sizable enough for a small, intimate party. One guy is older than us, still in the beginning of his gap years, and the smile on his face indicates he is enjoying himself more than a work partner who scowls at us from beneath rather bushy brows. Party preparation, of which they are in the middle of, can certainly bring them to lots of interesting places.

This is not what I want to be doing with my ten year gap period before career college, but to each their own. And it seems Mr. Disagreement over here, giving us the stink eye to the point where I can almost smell its pollution, should be doing something else.

"Sorry for the inconvenience," says Marree.

"No worries," he says as he sets up a step ladder. "I've only been doing this a year, but it happens everywhere we go. And we actually should have been doing this hours ago,  but we got delayed."

"More like someone overslept," grumbles the other guy under his breath.

"We don't want to be in the way. Should we go back and wait in the truck?"

"Normally, it is what we recommend, but I'm feeling generous tonight. Why don't you go rest in the hut over there."

Following the nod of his head with my gaze, I see a hut naturally disguised as part of the surrounding forest. Having never been here, I am curious about the place. My immediate family, contrary to the history of our people, are not the outdoors type. In this single aspect of our culture, my family has neglected me. One of the more important rituals, the coming of age vision quest, is something I never got to experience.

"And don't go touching the alcohol in there," says the ornery younger guy. "It's for the party."

The entrance resembles a coffin, like the ones depicted in old films where their shapes are irregular. It is kind of creepy but also kind of excellent, as though we are about to enter a crypt instead of a hotel room. It is a tight fit for me, following her inside. The primitive decoration has a certain rustic appeal, and it becomes immediately apparent this hut is going to be used as a bar. Possibly later replete with a bartender unless the hosts are expecting people in attendance to mix their own cocktails.

I am certain having a bar in a location where drunk people are expected to navigate an unconventional doorway is not a good idea. But what do I know?

A single battery lamp currently provides light next to a couch. She sits and then I do.

"Here's an interesting fact," she says as she scrolls through her phone. "This place was originally built to honor charcoal production, which was a huge business back then and also highly poisonous to the environment."

Ran out of insipid fashion photos to look at? I think, guiltily. Aloud, my mind is more in order now that the dizziness seems to have passed, I ask, "What kind of party is this supposed to be?"

"A rave, I think. There's supposed to be a famous DJ. Kind of weird for the party to be starting late, right?"

Not if it's how they normally do it. "Maybe. Do you think we should have brought some glow sticks or something?"

After more scrolling, she says, "Hmm, that looks cool." I look over at her phone to see that she is viewing a rave video. "Maybe they'll have extra equipment for us newbies."

She goes silent as she continues to peruse the internet. From a pocket I pull my own phone. With wireless charging capability, charging stations accessible from just about anywhere while possessing a decent range, my phone has a full charge. It is rare, except maybe out here where electricity has to be implemented with generators, for a phone to completely lose its charge.

Since the purpose of this lodge remains as a means of escape from the modern world, my phone is only charged from the personal station in the truck. Unfortunately, its range is limited to the confines of the vehicle, and the phone will gradually lose its charge out here as I use it. Yet batteries are more proficient than they used to be, and the likelihood of our phones going dead before the end of the party is slim.

As much as the type of pointless entertainment online does intrigue me, I tend to use the internet primarily for the purpose of brushing up on technology. Unlike a typical geek, the comprehension does not come easily to me. And studying of my own volition provides me with a sense of accomplishment I do not get from school.

Some might consider it pointless to study that which I will not be applying in a career, especially with the renovated education system, but I figure a secondary academic interest will keep me from becoming too complacent with history. Others have their distractions, and mine just happens to be related to electronic knowledge.

Not conceited enough to think I understand how a complicated system like Damine functions on the foundational level, I like to believe my current grasp of the field at least surpasses that of a geek squad of youngsters who hang around at the electronics store.

Code, being the most difficult aspect of computing, especially for me, is literally like learning another language. And Spanish, being almost as prevalent as English in worldwide usage, was difficult enough to learn. I am not fluent in it and might never have to be unless I plan to live in a predominantly Spanish speaking country in the future.

And almost as if by some plan of the universe, the sound of someone speaking Spanish reaches my ears from outside the hut.