Road to Arcadia: the Path East

Chapter One: Today (Once Known as Tomorrow)

Kai Gilling was breathless.

It could have been the sights around him. Just from where he was standing, he was surrounded by buildings as tall as he could see before getting dizzy. The sunlight bounced off the borderless windows, reflecting the image of a blue sky.

It could have been the greenery, the bountiful flora that occupied every available space, from the pitch where he stood to the trees swallowing up blocks in open-air sections of skyscrapers or rooftop gardens spilling over from the line dividing the city and the sky.

Perhaps it was the sounds of a population, murmurings and chatterings so closely condensed they were an imperceptible choir.

Or it may have been the insurmountable fact that they were all living atop a living city, a condensed metropolis that was as equally flourishing as it was breathing, strapped on the back of the world's most inorganic creature—a series of moving metal tendrils that carried them high off the ground in a perpetual journey for safety, the mythos of the turtle with the world on its back ripped from the mouths of countless ancient cultures and forged into a reality of the modern day.

But it wasn't any of those things.

Kai Gilling was just really out of shape.

He huffed loudly, eyes squeezed shut and sweat dripping from his brow. He tried to remember how he ended up in this situation.

Surely, he should have been in better shape. After all, he had spent a total of eight months out on his own, traversing the countryside. He'd slept under bridges and sat under the sun of an unforgiving desert. He'd sustained himself on old army rations from desert outposts and escaped crazy cults.

So what if most of those things had been from the driver's seat of a car?

His car.

His now lost to the spirit of the plains, black doorless, roofless car. His beautiful, abandoned Selene.

He was still working through it.

Despite the sacrifice of a vehicle who will henceforth remain unnamed for sake of mental acuity, here he was in the moving city with the chattering life and the overflowing greenery.

Arcadia. That was its name, the moniker of the city once only thought to be urban legend turned out to be the only fairy tale that had directions hidden between the pages. All its inhabitants were once victims, now given the opportunity to thrive in a way none had ever thought possible.

And Kai wanted to leave.

That was, perhaps, an over exaggeration. Kai didn't want to leave the promise of a bright tomorrow in favor of the desolation of the desert. He just had other priorities.

The Recon and Rescue division of Arcadia's internal organization--known to all as the R&R--was made up of people who had the same idea as Kai, deliberately or coincidentally. The white suit gang was Arcadia's primary source of recruitment, a force of goodwill that was tasked with searching out disasters and rescuing those who were in need of what Arcadia had to offer. Not all they encountered came willingly, but those who did had the guarantee of a new home.

The Recon and Rescue teams sacrificed a day-to-day life of verdant stability to help others, traversing across the very landscape that had chewed them up and spit them out. And out of everything Arcadia had to offer, theirs was the voice that spoke the loudest to him.

So he signed up, went through the application process and sat through multiple interviews. It wasn't difficult, but he had the feeling there was someone in the upper echelons who knew his story and vouched on his behalf. They accepted him into the program regardless.

He thought it would be smooth sailing from there.

But it wasn't.

Kai was an experienced traveler. He'd picked up a lot while on the road, and even prior to his journey he'd done scores of research on the topic. He didn't expect to learn much more during training than he'd already experienced.

That knowledge did little to help him in the physical fitness part.

And the road, while formative for his mind, was shit for the body.

They were running drills today. The R&R had reserved a block of space at Heather Park, one of the limited, flat-grounded open spaced areas in Arcadia. He wasn't thrilled about the spectators passing by, but not having to run flights of steps today was a fair compromise. The twenty pounds of weight on his back was not quite as fair.

Kai understood the concept. Sure, they'd have to be carrying supplies at breakneck speeds amongst natural disasters and help move those who couldn't on their own, but couldn't they just rely on the superhuman protection strength that only comes out during dire situations and not consistently break down their muscles with only the hope they build back stronger?

"Gilling! Are you daydreaming again? You still need to make the return trip!"

Kai opened his eyes and looked across the field. Most of the training group had already made their way back to the instructor, or at the very least were on their way. He took a deep breath, picked up the box of fake supplies at the marker, and started his return.

His eyes locked on the instructor's soured expression as he ran. Instead of retiring to a life of peace and quiet after years of being the head of the R&R, Rawda Bakker decided she knew what new recruits needed best. She opted out of the opportunity to water her garden in favor of yelling at a bunch of greenhorns. In her defense, she wasn't that old. She was more in line with his mother's age than a grandmother. Still, her dark hair had greyed to a midnight blue and her face had enough crows feet for her eyes to say murder.

Kai crossed the finish line, nearly bumping into the instructor in the process. "How'd I do?" he asked, letting the weighted box flop to the ground.

"You were the last person to arrive."

He nodded. "Alright, keeping a strong caboose. I'm glad I could do the honor of bringing up the rear. Who wants to volunteer to do the next one?"

Rawda didn't laugh. She never laughed. "You wouldn't have been so far behind if you didn't lose your momentum."

"I'm sorry, is breathing not a required part of the exercise?"

Without breaking eye contact, the instructor lifted her whistle to her lips. Like many things in Arcadia, it was old and recycled. So while it didn't pierce the eardrums of the bystanders in the park, the breathy squeal was sure as hell enough to hurt his eardrums.

"We're running the drill one more time before lunch. No stopping for breaks this time, got it? I don't care if you're being outpaced by a tortoise. If you're moving, you're moving."

The rest of the group groaned out their understanding. Someone murmured to another, asking what a tortoise was.

"Gilling?"

He nodded with confidence, but his voice didn't do a great job of reflecting it. "Got it."