The air was repugnant here in Glasgow. The black smog which had been pestering the lowlands of Scotland for the past several decades appeared to thicken the further Kevin delved into the city. The long street with its monotonous grey stone houses with front gardens just as devoid of life to either side epitomized the world he lived in. As Kevin walked, his mind began to escape again and he found himself reminiscing upon one of his few benign memories – his holiday to Greenland all those years ago. He remembered how enchanted he and his younger sister Morgan were to witness the starry night sky for the first time. They had stayed in a warm resort village on the coast, with an Astronomical Centre just a short drive from their hotel. He, Morgan, his father, and his late mother had traveled there every day, mesmerized by its grand displays. It had become a famous tourist attraction to those who lived in the member nations of the Grand Market.
He had loved peering through the various telescopes and being fascinated as he wandered through a massive and fantastical reconstruction of the solar system. The planets, their moons and even the asteroids all span and circled the room while its visitors walked beneath the colossal replicas, while the dome far above depicted stars and galaxies. Kevin also remembered how Morgan had accidentally caused one of the smaller asteroids to smash and how she had wailed in guilt – even though the staff comforted her and gave her a lollipop in the image of Neptune. He also recalled sitting in a grand, dark auditorium as he and his family whooshed through the Milky Way and beyond – their seats darting side to side as the path twisted and turned throughout the planets and the lights of space. It felt like being on a roller coaster. His sister had cried until Kevin got her to laugh and scream with him. It all seemed like magic at the time, but as an adult, he realized it was only technology, tainting this once-perfect memory.
He often found himself reminiscing over other such childhood memories. Ones with his mother and sister, and ones where he left the Grand Market were the sweetest. There would be none of that now. His mother was dead, his sister moved to Greenland, and his father's dwindling funds could never accommodate a holiday. Gaming and movies quelled the boredom somewhat, but going on walks through the dark, dismal streets of Glasgow was the only option to feel physically free. He'd never visit Greenland again. That realization stung, the sinking feeling prompted him to remove his earphones. Even the nostalgic music was tainted. I should never dwell, just ignore.
As he reached the end of the street, Kevin saw a tall iron gate across the three-way junction. He walked across the pavement and onto the street. In the corner of his eye, he caught two beaming lights shining through the smog to his right and realizing that a car was inbound, he quickly stepped back and allowed the rusty car to pass. Struggling to breathe properly, he took a deep breath from his inhaler, re-fastened his face mask to protect himself against the smog, looked both ways and ventured across the road to meet the gateway. Its hinges screamed in agony as he opened them. He ventured into the unfamiliar land beyond.
He soon found himself walking down a forlorn stone path, with sparse shrubbery and grass surrounding it. A plaque by the entrance revealed that the area was a privately owned park owned by some corporation named MEPHRA. Across the surface of the plaque, a map was laid out. Suddenly, a smaller slab rose from the top and a red circular light gleamed, its luminous tendrils scanned Kevin's face, then sank into the main surface. Another slab emerged and illuminated the area with bright light. On the screen was a snapshot of his face, which zoomed into his eyes and began to identify him with text above the picture. So ugly, he thought in disappointment. The text read his name, his age, his personal identification code, his Market-Allegiance and Social Approval ratings, and all the other boring legal details throughout the United Kingdom and the Grand Market which Kevin never bothered to understand or care for.
And then an animated face of a female android appeared on the screen, replacing his credentials.
"Hello, and welcome to... This... Destination. In order to proceed without being flagged, you must pay the aforementioned sum of... Ten... Credits... Fifty.", it spoke with a robotic, automated London accent.
Kevin grudgingly reached into his black leather jacket and took out his wallet, searching around for ten credits and fifty motivators. Music concerts are probably cheaper than this.
"Shall we continue with this transaction?". The woman seemed to somehow be growing impatient.
"If you can wait". It was almost too dark to make out the contents of his wallet.
The robot in the hologram stared at him. After finding the cash, he then inserted them into the slot machine and the numbers on the screen slowly started to decrease.
"Thank you for this transaction. We here at MEPHRA prize ourselves in accumulating land throughout its local territories. We aim to fight injustice throughout our natural world here in Scotland and protect the homeless and infirm. We- ".
The voice continued with its corporate jargon for at least 10 more seconds, before an advertisement for some cleaning product interrupted, and then it resumed. "We hope you are safe and happy- ".
"Who is these days?", Kevin muttered to himself as he walked away. The voice cut off and the avatar's expression changed to that of anger.
"Non-compliance detected and recorded. You now currently have a Social Approval rating of... minus.. ninety... seven. Your Market-Allegiance rating has decreased and is now.. minus... seven hundred and.. eighty-six. Have a good day.", the android retorted, smiled, and shrunk back into the plaque. Being unemployed since he was 14 had destroyed his Market-Whatever rating. Caring about discounts and other perks he'd never use was futile. As if I care.
The bright picture of himself continued to annoy him. He had always hated how he looked; especially his messy black hair and a large forehead. Even though some claimed he was decent or attractive, he never believed it. His stepmother sometimes remarked that he looks like a rapist whenever she feels especially nasty. She was the reason he kept having to escape into this dystopia every night. He usually ventured off just before she arrived home from work at the council. But he did not want to think of her at all. He came here to forget.
After taking another puff of his inhaler, he gazed upon the dark surroundings and turned his phone's flashlight on. A forest rose to the left while a boring patch of grass stretched to the right, the lit windows from homes stretching on in that direction was distasteful. I want to get lost in the forest. I don't care who's in it. He soldiered on and entered the forest.
The further he delved, the more litter he encountered, a pet peeve of his. Most of the empty crisp packets and alcohol cans had the token stars of Starlord brand upon them. He did admire the retrofuturistic aesthetic of the cans, however. Starlord packaging was often black with stars all around, with three large stars surrounding the gold Starlord metallic banner with the drink's name. Calling them consumable is an overstatement. He remembered wishing upon the stars in Iceland when he was younger. He wished the smog would go away. He wished he could breathe properly again. Children that young shouldn't be thinking those things. He knew he was just being edgy, but he believed his contempt for the world was morally justified.
Kevin considered just leaving the forest when he noticed a small bridge, hidden to his left by some trees. Across the small stream was a run-down shack. Kevin promised himself he'd leave after investigating this shack. He didn't know what he expected, the shack was grey, flat, and boring, with broken windows while the outer walls were covered in graffiti. Peeking his head inside, he caught a pile of used condoms and other similar things and immediately retreated, quickly closing the door in disgust.
Barely even processing what he had witnessed inside, he jolted his head around the side of the shack when he heard something. Was that a person? His paranoia quelled when he heard an all too familiar sound, a sound which had haunted him for as long as he can remember.
'Hooot... Hooot'
And then he caught a glimpse of the large owl, as it descended from the trees and perched on the shack's roof, staring at him. It seemed oddly familiar to him though as if he had met it before. All animals look the same, he judged. It hooted several more times and a feeling swept over Kevin, a peculiar feeling, one which he hadn't felt for a very long time. There wasn't even a name for the feeling which he could conjure, it was just... a lack of loneliness. Occasionally, he would feel just a slight of this sensation. Anti-loneliness, he used to call it. "Hello again, mate", he called to the owl, knowing it doesn't speak English. The owl continued to stare, then twisted its head to gaze upon the graffiti, illuminated by Kevin's flashlight. It then flew around Kevin in wide circles then disappeared back into the treeline. He had always suspected that there were hidden messages in things, from music to car plates. This was no exception. Deep down he knew it was silly, but he was a curious 20-year-old. The graffiti mostly portrayed swear words and gang signs, while a few were sentences expressing political ideas. The sentence 'Down with the Market' was most frequent. Another stated 'Off with their heads!', across a flag of the Grand Market.
Kevin walked back across the bridge onto the main path. He looked at his phones lock screen which read the time as 20:27 and decided he would have a further gander about in the forest. As he walked deeper into the forest, he remembered the types of things he encountered before in these types of areas. Broken cars, bags of teeth, vicious cats. He even chanced upon a dead body once, but as soon as he saw that he legged it back out of there and never thought twice about it. I was a coward back then. Not anymore, he told himself.
The prevalence of murders never bothered him. The world was becoming more immoral by the day. The Merchants and their corporations wielded most of the power in the union, held together by the Council of Grand Merchants. As long as people worked grueling hours and engaged in excessive consumerism, the bureaucrats didn't care. Morality and order were a thing of the past, murder and slavery were the norms of today's world -- a world with a humanity that had turned cold and dark
Kevin ascended a twisting path on the side of a hill, when he reached the top, a group of owls descended and flew low below the path's street lamps, heading deeper into the park. More owls began flying slowly and silently behind him. Kevin didn't know whether to be disturbed or intrigued, but the curiosity won in the end. Treading on, he eventually made it to a lamppost with vines and weeds entangled around it. He leaned onto it and realized how much he was actually sweating and in need of another use of his inhaler.
As he removed his mask, he found that he could breathe properly in this area. The trees were dense here and the smog was thinner, nature seemed to thrive here. More importantly, there was no litter or vandalism present in the area but for large hollow logs and branches which nestled into the moss below. The area appeared to be a small clearing, which stretched on for a short distance before the trees picked up again on all sides as if to form a circular wall, with bushes decorating the treeline. There were small flowers, mushrooms, and weeds dotted around the meadow in families. It felt oddly satisfying to walk across the soft, mossy ground as Kevin explored the area. A fox darted past from a bush to Kevin's left and stopped midway to stare back at him, before running on into a bush. The only sounds here were the trees swaying in the wind, the sound of water flowing and crickets chirping. The occasional hooting of the owls deeper echoed something sinister, but that was overshadowed by the serenity which washed Kevin over. I was meant to find this place. I could spend hours here.
A few more owls darted past him, making their way through an opening in the wall of trees. What's their story? The thick cedar trees and their branches which formed the hole, were crooked and bent, forming an almost perfect archway as if they were prevented from growing by some invisible cylinder. Suddenly, an owl took him by surprise and flew down the hole and out of sight, he ducked to let it pass. Where are they going?, Kevin thought as he ducked to enter the tunnel. Ahead, the owls were making a racket. The possibility of more owls behind him forced Kevin to go faster. He had to keep shielding his face and hands from branches that got in his way. An opening came up, and Kevin exited the tunnel.
He didn't know what he expected. Outside of the tunnel was a smaller grassy area with tree stumps and hollow fallen logs. There were a lot of mushrooms and tall, twisted brown stones which stood throughout the area. But it wasn't the overabundance of owls sitting across the patch which he was intrigued in, nor the waterfall flowing down a cliff and into the greenery below. It was what the owls were looking at.
The view was both vile yet still breath-taking. He could see much of Glasgow spread across this view despite the black fog which encapsulated the cityscape. The moonlight and artificial lighting improved the view. The smog obscured the interiors of the streets, only allowing the tops of apartments and corporate buildings in the city center to be visible. Amidst the foreboding skyscrapers, were giant neon-lit advertisements and their giant animated holograms portraying advertisements. Slums and shantytowns, blimps and aeroplanes, and rapidly moving vehicles on motorways further animate the view. But then he started making out even more depressing details. As well as the fires and fire trucks, the worst of all was the piercing screeches and flashing lights of the far-off police sirens and helicopters. Technology ruins everything. The helicopters shone lights down onto the various streets below in the distance, using their Caelumfans to dissipate the smog. The owls began hooting wildly now, their heads tilting and jerking about as they became more excited, some began flying around for a more suitable seating. Something was coming.
A large blimp descended from the thick clouds to the left and came close to the cliff the group was sitting on. The owls watched it with fervor, yet Kevin watched it with dread. 'MACHINA DEI RUBRUM' was spread across the blimp in a bright red light, half-blinding Kevin as it fell upon the treeline. Kevin had no idea what it meant. Many corporations took on Latin phrasing, and Latin was taught at the schools here until recently. Latin was used in the Roman Territories after the Roman Empire was reformed but dwindled once the Grand Market was created in 1941 and English became encouraged. Kevin didn't care beyond that.
When the light from the words fell upon the owls and the windows became apparent, he stepped backwards and hid behind a log, staring at the log's shadow as the forest illuminated in red. He closed his eyes and covered his ears. What if they can see me?
Before he knew it, the light had faded. When Kevin rose, he saw that the blimp was flying towards the city. A few other blimps had risen from the smog and into the sky. The owls watched as it moved on, but they still did not move. Then one of the owls turned around and stared at Kevin. And then another turned and stared, and then another. One by one they turned and one by one they watched. The birds of prey did not move or make noise. They just watched him. Perhaps they were sending a message. Perhaps they were preparing to attack. Regardless, he had finally caught their attention. And he didn't know what to make of it.
He took a few steps backwards and cautiously entered the tunnel. When he realised that the owls were remaining stationary and nothing else, he rushed quickly through the tunnel, apathetic to the scratches, cuts, and bumps he was receiving. The only sounds now were from the river and the bugs. He sat for another breather, processing what he had witnessed. That was fucked. Those are not ordinary owls and that was no ordinary blimp. "What's the appeal of fucking blimps?", he asked the swaying trees.
He sat there for several more moments in a daze as a chill hit him, and the rain soon after. He had no hood or umbrella and despite his sympathy towards the cold, it was unpleasant being here with no shelter. And so, he ran through the clearing and down the path, holding up his hoodless leather so his head didn't get wet. His breathing became colder, and he realized he had to stop. Whilst he leaned against a tree which provided a slight degree of shelter from the rain, he tried searching up owls and their strange behavior on his phone. When this investigation proved fruitless, he tried the local park which he found himself in. The only thing he learned was that the park was bought recently by an organization called MEPHRA, as he knew, for who knows what. If a corporation buys land, they can do almost whatever to any trespassers, he recalled. The fact that they took his information terrified him. What if they come for me? Kevin decided to shrug off his terror and run once more. Eventually, he traversed down the hilly path again, past the bridge with the shack and returned towards the entryway with the plaque. One of the cameras he never noticed before turned to watch him exit the park. Kevin stepped out of the park with his head down and began to walk home.