Chapter 4: Letters to a New Home
The next 2 weeks saw the bands/helpers letters travel great distances thanks to the networks of newsboys and girls they had well established. They all arrived without fail, as did their replies. I was allowed to read and quote the letters shortly after I met the band at the tavern and based what was going on with the extra helpers on interviews I conducted. From now on, the letters and stories pertaining to the extra helpers will be done in alphabetical order in the interest of organization.
Catherine Girouard - Mount Royal, East Ontario
Dearest Gregg and Jen,
Of course I will come to the French Republic for you guys. I think it's amazing that you want to play for your country in the Olympics. Frankly, business is slow ever since sketchers have been fleeing from the more rural, English-speaking part of East Ontario and have been underbidding me for sketches. I can take what I have left in the bank, purchase tickets to fly to London and then to Rome. Either you guys can come pick me up or I can rent a bike to go to Montegran. I may have to stay with Jonathan until I sketch enough people to afford my own place, will that be ok? Anyway, I will be there as soon as I can. My lease has already been settled and my friends and family have mostly emigrated to Ontario proper, so I'll be on my way shortly after this letter reaches you. I'll be so happy to see all of you in person at long last and be able to practice my Esperanto.
All my love,
Catherine
A few weeks later, Catherine was as happy to leave East Ontario as she professed in the letter. She changed into a royal blue corset and a skirt made from deer skin. She sat down in front of her mirror to brush her hair, "It was hard enough for me to sketch without depth perception."
She was referring to her left eye; she lost it to an infection while still a student at McGill art school. The eyepatch covered the damage quite well, but 1 eye had to do the work of 2. This was currently being done to read a map of Mount Royal, as she forgot where the airport was.
"Ok, no need to spend East Ontario pounds on a Gearus. I can walk to the corner of St. Dennis Street, clean out my bank account, head North to Foster Avenue, turn right and east to the Airport. Shouldn't be more than a half hour's walk. And I can stay at the airport until there is a seat available. I can think of worse things than being asleep while they wind the plane up 11,000 times. At least the flight from London to Rome won't take as long. Unless they give me a hard time switching from the BritIrish commonwealth to the French Republic."
Satisfied with her plan, she left her home with as many belongings as she could fit into her 1 piece of luggage (clothes, food, paper and pencils mostly). She began her adventure with a smile that could light up the Mount Royal she was leaving behind, and the hearts of its' 191, 211 residents.
Elizabeth Bowman - New Madrid, New Spain
Hello my dearest brother Jonathan,
Your letter was so welcome to my day, so welcome. I am not sure what a lady more than a decade the senior of the oldest band member can provide, but I will come. I am nearing retirement at my job as a winder of gearbikes and gearuses, and with my children grown up; I need a new challenge in life. Especially when I'm in better shape than most people half of my age because of the winding I do. I still get discounts to fly, so I will be winding my gearbike to West Barcelona, flying to New Amsterdam, then to Rome. Ooh, Maybe I'll run into Jessica, that would be splendid. Wait a minute, you once told me that there's no mandatory retirement age in the French Republic. I could still be a winder when I get there, thank Da Vinci for that. I don't wish to be useless, now or at any age. I know Montegran doesn't have an airport, but I can still wind a bike or a gearus. I'm still an all-body, and even if I were a gearbody, I just want to remain a valid member of a society, any society.
Anyways, I will take a few days to get my New Spain affairs in order, and then I will head to you. I might reach you before this letter does. New Amsterdam has a new plane for mail, but I don't know how reliable it is. I think I'll use my retirement certificate as a reference when I get to the French Republic.
Your Friend,
Elizabeth
After reading this letter, a flood of empathy came over me. I come from a world where Elizabeth had about another quarter century left, in this world she is already on borrowed time. But back to Elizabeth...
...Elizabeth was happy for a new adventure in her winter years, she didn't care that it was on the other side of the planet. New Spain was in a state of flux with a group of government agents questioning civilians of their relationships with people outside of New Spain. Elizabeth called it the New Spanish Inquisition. She never disclosed her ties to Phoenix Crysalys, the French Republic or anyone else. She believed in the liberty and the privacy of the individual citizen. Especially since people with international friends and family were rumored to be imprisoned. She was happy to be leaving a land of paranoia, happy to turn the dirt over, as she put it. She wrote letters to her daughter and friends explaining her departure, which I will not even try to get. Suffice to say, her family agreed with the New Spain paranoia and that she should get out before they stopped leaving old ladies alone. 34,962 people in a town I presume would be Knoxville; they would get to Elizabeth eventually.
Holly Rapp - West Berlin, New Germany
Hello my dearest friend and fellow church of Da Vinci preacher, Megan. Thank you so much for writing to me and putting my name in the mix to help Phoenix Crysalys play at the Olympics. I will join you guys in your crusade, just as soon as I am released from my contract at the church, which will be a few days after I send this letter.
I'll be happy to finish my term here; most of New Germany does not believe in the Maestro, I'm lucky if my sermons are viewed by 10 people. Apparently after my contract runs out, they'll sell the property to make a gearist's office. At least they're a vital service, and 1 I'll use if ever come back here.
But to be honest, I hope to never come back. From what you told me of the French Republic, it would be a dream to live in Day Vinci's homeland. We even have a flightport next door now, I'll fly to New Amsterdam, then to Rome, hopefully I can still ride a bike the rest of the way. I'll think of something if I can't.
Da Vinci Bless you,
Holly
Holly finished that letter with intense pain and discomfort. Sitting down for more than 30 minutes was a luxury she could no longer afford. She took a drink of Noresigohol, hoping it would take the edge off of her artificial right hip...
...and dull the Nightmare that continued while she was awake. She lost it defending a few citizens being robbed at the West Berlin fruit market. Holly managed to disarm 3 of the blade-wielding thugs with little more than her self-defense training from the church. The 4th one hit her from behind with a blunt object that the local constable described as a heavy cliano leg. She was lucky that they ran after they rendered her unconscious. To my knowledge, they recognized her uniform and decided against raping her. Oh they were caught, but the church of Da Vinci has a type of justice that most police are afraid to object to. And less paperwork for the local constable.
Holly stood up and headed downstairs for her last sermon. She gave her letter to the church's newsgirl and took the podium. "Please bow your bodies for the Maestro's prayer."
The crowd of 4 people bent over as ordered:
"Our maestro who art amongst nature, hallowed be your name, inventions, principles, sketches and paintings. Your museum come, your will be done, on earth as in earth. Give us today our daily ink. Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us, whether they are of gears or not. Save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil. [For art and science which are as one, the power, and the glory are yours now and forever.] Amen."
"Amen."
"Bonvolu sidi" (Please be seated)
All 4 sat down as asked. It wasn't even a family of 4, just 4 individual homeless gearbodies who probably don't even follow the teachings of Leonardo Da Vinci; they just don't have the equivalent of homeless shelters or workhouses. So it was either church or prison.
"Today is my last sermon ever. The topic is: Gender inversion theory in art. This theory began when a group of art history students in Zurich, French Republic theorized that the Mona Lisa is nothing more than Leonardo Da Vinci painting himself as a woman."
Holly fetched 2 large colour sketches out from under her podium/megaphone. 1 was a copy of the Mona Lisa (that she held in her right hand with the image facing her audience), the other being a copy of a self-portrait that the Maestro did about 5 years later. Holly actually inverted the self-portrait so that both images had the subject looking to Holly's right. Then she put each image together. Minus Leonardo's facial hair, it was a spot-on match. The 4 in the audience were stunned.
Holly continued with other examples over approximately half an hour, then an assistant wheeled out a large pot of vegetarian stew with a loaf of bread. This was standard for the Da Vinci church, as the Maestro believed that consuming animals was wrong. Everyone re-arranged the benches to accommodate a simple long dining table, 10 chairs and crude utensils. They sat down, ate and discussed the lesson. When they finished they restored the church to its' original vision (which was oddly enough, more similar to the church Phoenix Crysalys used than a church of Da Vinci). Satisfied, Holly dismissed the audience, knowing that her last duty probably lead to at least 1 new convert. She went to her private quarters, where her soon to be ex-assistants were waiting for her, clapping. Holly was so moved that she almost cried.
"Dankon ĉiuj por 5 mirinda jaroj." (Thank you everyone for 5 amazing years)
"Vi estas granda estro, kaj ni miss you" (You are a great boss, we will miss you)
"Mi miss you tro. Kiam mi ricevas establis Mi promesas skribi." (I will miss you too. When I get settled, I promise to write)
"Nu, ni scias, kie vi iras do ni ĉiuj splitita en kaj atingis vin vian bileton al Nov-Amsterdamo." (Well, we know where you're going. So we all chipped in and bought your ticket to New Amsterdam)
Holly was stunned, as this was a month's pay for 1 of them. They must have been scrimping and saving for weeks to do this for her. Holly couldn't keep her emotions in check, she allowed herself to cry. Her staff joined her in a group hug.
"Ni nur volas ni povus akiri vin la tutan vojon al la Franca Respubliko" (We just wish we could get you all the way to the French Republic)
"Mi amas vin ĉiujn tiom. Da Vinci benu vin ĉiujn." (I love you all so much. Da Vinci bless you all)
They left Holly to pack, Holly was so happy that she now has a few extra New Deutsch Marks for her adventure.
Jessica Felix - East Brunswick, New England
Jessica had just retired to her private suite, a perk of keeping an Inn in New England. Her grandfather would tell her of how there were more social and economic freedoms in New England after they gained independence from the BritIrish commonwealth. But some societal ignorance still remained. She walked to the small bedroom and looked down at her daughter, Ryleigh:
"I dream of a world where I can walk down Broadway in New Amsterdam and not be ridiculed...for being a gear-body single mother to an allbody child."
There was no story of physical trauma for Jess, no one knows why she was born missing her septum. But she needs constant new noses, and they're not cheap. Neither are the pencil and paper she was about to use.
Dearest Heather,
I just gave my 2 weeks' notice to the owner of the inn. He accepted after I told him that my contract was ending even earlier than that and that I could literally walk away in 4 days. I'm going to do my packing a little at a time, but not before I purchase a second case to pack my daughter's things. Kind of sad that I can literally fit both of our lives into 2 boxes but there you have it.
I still remember the route to ride to New Amsterdam on my gearbike, Ryleigh loves seeing the New English countryside. I just hope there's an Inn in Montegran that will take me. I know the strife of the gearbody is worse here than it is over there, but I don't expect everything to be completely tolerable outside of you guys.
Thank you for smoothing everything over regarding Ryleigh coming with me. There is literally no one in this colony that I trust with a baby and let's just leave it at that.
From what you told me, I can expect to see another helper or 2 on my journey? Whether or not I do, It'll be nice to be amongst people I know since Dennis left me for the Noresigohol. I hate the additives that they put into that stuff, thank Da Vinci that I go through so many new septums from routine illnesses that the gearist declared the Noresigohol unnecessary. Anyway, I'm about to run out of paper so I better cut this short.
See you soon,
Jessica
"Oooh, I suppose I should also buy the tickets now too. I should also get as much of my New English Pounds changed to Republic Francs as possible. Come on, Ryleigh."
She took Ryleigh into her arms and headed out into the Inn. She took a measure of pleasure in that she was off the clock and could ignore the customers however she saw fit. What were they going to do, fire her?
Julie Bourke - Sydney, Upper Zealand
"This is a town of 231,367 people. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at people staring at me now. I just never thought I would have to make my own funny bone."
Julie extended and retracted her left arm a few times while taking her morning Noresigohol. Her husband Scott looked at her just the same as he did on their wedding day.
"Sweetie, you're the best blacksmith in Upper Zealand. You were able to remain conscious while making a new elbow. But Upper Zealand is a lawless land, you know that it was a rival blacksmith who assaulted you because he was about to go bankrupt."
Julie nodded and asked, "You know going to the French Republic via the flightport in Beijing is the best for me."
Scott nodded, "Write the letter. I'll work my magic with the city so you can leave in a fortnight. I'll be 6 weeks behind you taking care of our affairs. I have about 3,500 Republic Francs under a floor board in our closet that I got from...the Kiwis attempts to loot us."
That was the Bourke family's main motivation to escape. Zealand was able to blindside what was formerly Australia with a series of attacks on government buildings shortly before Julie was born, culminating in the Australian surrender 22 years ago. Julie grabbed the first sheet of paper and pencil she could find and began writing:
Dearest Karl,
I'll be on my way by the time that you read this, so there's your answer. Anything to get out of Upper Zealand. My new elbow is working fine and I can return to my normal duties in the Mechanic's shop. So I hope Laura has some space in her shop somewhere. Otherwise, I'll have to get my own facility. Scott will be coming too shortly after I arrive but unfortunately it'll be long after the band proposal in Rome. Still, he'll contribute as much as he can. I should go now, see you soon.
-Julie
"Ok Scott, all done."
"Good. Let's get you ready...us ready."
Julie nodded, and they departed for a building of unknown status. From what Fabio told me, the closest word I could use is...embassy. But only in the sense that people seeking asylum to another country could go here...but Julie never struck me as the type who needed asylum.
Leila Bronnikova - Kursk, Eurussian Commonwealth
It took considerably longer for Leila to not only arrange her departure but to even respond to her writer (Chiara), but it was worth it. Leila was a high-ranking linguist in the Eurussian Commonwealth who merely applied for a transfer from the Czar's personal service to a detached leave in an attempt to get a Eurussian embassy built in the French Republic. She was also a globally renowned diplomat, and diplomacy would serve a band quite well. She had some leftover paper and ink so she used it on a rare half hour off:
Dearest Chiara,
I am so happy and honoured that you would want me to work for you. They just approved my request for a transfer so once I am finished training my replacement I will be on my way.
See you soon,
Leila the Lioness
She finished writing and set out to eat her lunch outside.
Solveig Langhelle - Bergen, Danish Commonwealth
"Mi bedaŭras ĉiuj, sed kiu estis nia lasta flugo. Oslo estas ŝteli nian aferon. Mi devas meti vin ĉiujn, sed mi jam aranĝis Severance salajron por ĉiu el vi" (I'm sorry everyone, but that was our last flight. Oslo has been stealing our business. I have to lay you all off, but I have arranged severance pay for each of you)
Solveig knew that was coming, for the number of flights that she had to wind had been decreasing for the last 2 years. Still, she had to hide her relief as she was handed an envelope that contained 10,000 Danish Kroner in mixed coins. Hell she hid it until she got home, it was lunchtime but she couldn't resist making pancakes one last time. I should point out that in Danish culture, pancakes are a dessert and not a breakfast. So eating them for lunch is odd no matter which country or universe. She had already written her letter to Laura a week earlier, anticipating her layoff:
Dearest Laura,
Of course I'll come, soon there will be nothing left for me here. I'll explain when I arrive.
-Solveig
Paper was a luxury in the Danish Republic, but that was not in Solveig's mind as she packed up and headed downstairs.
"Gearbike to Oslo, then fly to Rome to start a new life."
She smiled as she saw her soon to be ex-landlady. She took out 500 kroner and handed it to her while saying "Jen la lasta de mia luo plus iom da mono por purigi. Ĉiuj miaj aĵoj estas ekstere." (Here's the last of my rent plus some money to clean. All my stuff is out.) The landlady simply nodded, but by then Solveig was already at her gearbike. "Poor woman, a gearbody running a section of lofts by herself."
Speaking of which...
Tamara Costa - Sasayakana, New Japan
"100, 000, 000...I'm out."
What she was referring to was the New Japanese yen in her bank account. Commission she earned from her tennants in both rent and cuts from the prostitution she allowed in her rooms. What people did to
earn their rent was their business, but these were not courtesans, they were full-on prostitutes. So Tamara kept them safe from police and Yakuza mafia raids, which frightened me personally as I can only imagine how much power the Yakuza had in this world if they were the only organized crime on the planet.
But I digress, Tamara put away her counting machine and headed for the bathtub. It was one of those bathtubs in the middle of the room. In fact the best way to describe it was a converted steel barrel that could heat the water via a small fire. Essentially you had to boil the water and then wait for it to cool. Tamara had done this in advance, because she had to take care of 1 other thing...not getting her artificial spine wet.
She broke her back in a freak accident involving helping a tenant get her client out of the building. Tamara carried him out but she fell down some stairs. Her spine was nearly in 3 pieces but a Gearist offered her an experimental grafting of an artificial spine to ensure she would even walk again. It worked so well that the new spine even established connections with the rest of her body. Her organs worked better in her 40's than they did in her 20's, and the Gearist was heralded as a genius...in exchange for free hookers for life...barter makes the world go around, I guess.
The 100, 000, 000 New Japanese Yen she was referring to was a goal that she had set for herself. Once she reached it she would turn the building over to the hookers and they could be their own bosses and keep all of their own money. At 99, 000, 000 she wrote a letter to Fabio:
Fabio,
I'm almost at my goal. Once I reach it I'm out of New Japan and headed your way. I wish I could tell you my route but the Yakuza may be reading this. Anglo-Female business owners in New Japan are threatening to them.
That was 3 weeks ago, and her bath was at the right temperature. As it was described to me she basically would have had to make a self-sponge bath. I say would've because she never got around to it. I had to have Tamara tell me in private that she was visited by a Yakuza assassin.
"We are going to be taking this building...now."
Tamara giggled, "They should've sent more than just you."
"Oh, I think I can handle a gearwhore a decade past her prime who just happens to run a house of other whores."
"Don't you think my magic back doesn't afford me...other benefits?"
"I was hoping the legends were true. It's so hard to find a challenge in my line of work. Are you familiar with the Martial Arts of my motherland?"
Tamara nodded. The assassin cracked his neck and said, "I'll allow you to re-dress before we start."
Tamara put on whatever clothes were nearest her. They exchanged nods and began circling each other. Tamara noticed a weakness first, she needed to observe erections in her line of work, and she noticed his had some kind of piercing. All it took was the assassin making his heart punch attack obvious and Tamara capitalized by striking the back of his knee with a well-placed kick and she ripped the piercing out. Through his crotch, and through his pants. How he remained conscious puzzles Tamara and I to this day, but she dragged him out to the hall where a crowd of her hookers (male, female, all-body and gearbody alike) had gathered.
"Put him out of his misery. I need to step out."
The hookers nodded as Tamara headed out. First to her bank, then to buy her tickets out of here. She doesn't know how she got the money out, nor the exact terms of the beating the hookers gave the assassin (though the weapons varied from spare limbs to shoes). Tamara returned later that evening to find the hookers burying him in a garden behind their residence. No one paid much mind, a lot of problems with the Yakuza are solved in gardens. They finished burying him and Tamara handed each 1 a document. "Ladies and gentlemen, gearbodies and allbodies, these are your ownership papers, you own your homes free and clear. I'm off to start a new life, do NOT come looking for me."
They nodded, She departed on a gearbike for San Tokyo, then flights to New Amsterdam and Paris.
Tina Doyle - Fort Kingston, Ontario, BritIrish Dominion of Canada
Tina had just come home from her own retirement party where she was recognized as the first gearus driver in Fort Kingston history. Her gifts included the gearus she drove (the township were supposed to be getting new ones), and keys to the township that she was leaving behind...that no one knew.
On 1 of her last active weeks on the job, she stopped in West Dublin (Ottawa if my interpretation of the information she gave me is accurate) to pick up paper and pencils to write:
Dear Phoenix,
Once I retire here, I'm yours. My kids are in reform school in the York Township and are nearing their own lives. I do not know yet if I will head to York or to Mount Royal to fly across the ocean, but I will decide in due time.
Your Sister in spirit,
Tina
Now she stared at a 1 BritIrish pence coin, torn as to which town's flightport to go to as Fort Kingston didn't have 1. "Heads I go to York, Tails I go to Mount Royal." Tina flipped her coin, it landed on tails. "Just as well" she thought, as Mount Royal was going forward. She left her life behind just as the others did. All of them united by 1 goal, to get their favourite band to play a show that will cement them a legacy across this world. All that stood in their way was an audition.