Chronicles of Han: Preserving Creata: Part 1: Learning Curve
Chapter Three

I was glad to be able to drive my battered, dark-green, four-door Commoner again. There was nothing wrong with its systems and the vehicle was an efficient drive. I also found that the state it was in made it safe from most criminals and gained me the appearance of a not too successful gambler. I preferred it that way. It made my life much easier.

Heading out of the campus gates, we all turned west, back to New Haven. Stacey passed me by on her two-wheeler, shouting something at me. I could not hear, but received the distinct image of a tortoise.

Sometimes I picked up on people’s thoughts spontaneously. I was sure I could do it consciously, if I concentrated.

Jack drove past in his yellow, roofless Rogue. Flashing a smile at me, his black skin created the illusion of white teeth.

I smiled back. They all had families to hurry to. An empty apartment awaited me.

It was an enjoyable experience to drive in the countryside. Not that there was much undisturbed countryside left between the sea and the mountains with New Haven stuck in between, getting more crowded each year with more people moving in from other cities.

Everyone was looking for sustainable jobs. New Haven’s natural, deep harbour and fishing industry provided exactly that.

At least it was a comfortable drive.

All too soon I reached the intersection and joined the EW1 (East-West) highway that came in from the Eastern Coastal Cities. The EW1 lay below the Airport on the sea side. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The WE2 (allowing for traffic flow in the opposite direction from the EW1) was above the Airport on the mountain side.

Hill Street ran South-North from the pier to the top of the mountain, crossing underneath the highways, but also serving as the main access-roads to them. The New Haven Airport’s entrance effectively divided Hill into Upper and Lower Hill.

The same went for Mountain Drive that ran on the West side of the Airport. Mountain Drive wound through the slums into the foothills and eventually found its way to the inland side of the mountains.

These important main routes were the arteries that kept the heart of New Haven going.

Fisheries from around Creata had their canneries and fresh stock packing plants here. Our cold coastal waters teemed with life and Creata was glad for its bounty. The Airport was the fastest way to get the fresh fish to markets around the globe.

Leaving the EW1 highway at the Snout off-ramp, took me straight past the business district into the residential area of Market Square.

Market Square used to be the original business sector, but as newer, more modern places were built, the old buildings were revamped for residential service.

I stopped two blocks from my building at Luke’s Grocer. Luke’s was the only decent place in the area for supplies.

The schools were out and I had to fight my way through the throngs of children, making sure my wallet was secure. You never knew with these little thieves in the vicinity.

I should know. I was once one of them.

Upon reaching my home at the Heights Building, I parked my vehicle in the basement. The light at the stairwell was broken and, as usual, the lift did not work. I had to climb the basement stairs and the three flights to the top.

The janitor was not to be blamed. He really tried his best. It was an old building in a rough neighbourhood.

Maybe the presence of an officer would make it a bit safer for the residents.

Home.

Unlocking the door to 308, I went inside, slamming the door closed with my foot. It had an automatic locking mechanism that could only be unlocked by the key or manually from the inside.

It was so wonderful that I was going to have the whole weekend to myself!

Dumping my travel bag in the first room to my left, I took my supplies straight past the extra ablution facility that separated my bedroom from the guest room, into the open plan kitchen. It was not a big place, but it served my needs.

It was early afternoon and I was glad for an extra half-day off before starting work. The tests we had to take at the academy really made my head swim with all the legal stuff and response codes.

I found it boring and dreadfully tiring to remember all of it. I knew I would remember everything if I had to, it was simply too much to ask to write the answers.

After preparing a light lunch of sandwiches and spreads for myself, I settled on the small patio to watch life go by.

The patio offered a great view of the airport. I’ve never flown in an aircraft and wondered what the difference would be in flying in physical form, but had a notion that I would not have to wait too long before finding out.

I suddenly wondered where this notion came from. It was similar to the pre-sight experiences I had. I merely knew things before they happened.

Since I can remember, I’ve always been this way. Sometimes I would just know things. At other times, I would actually see things happening in the future.

It was confusing, and sometimes scary.

I knew I could help people with this gift and had this feeling since . . . when? . . . forever.

It really scared me and I squashed it down, trying desperately to ignore this feeling of pending destiny.

My efforts were not successful and my communication device, thankfully, intruded on my thoughts.

It was Jack.

“Hi. The guys are going to celebrate at The Pikes. I’ll pick you up at 17h00 for an early dinner and then we’ll join them. It’s on me. See you later.”

He did not give me time to respond, knowing I would chicken out if I had the chance. I was not fond of public places, except when I needed funds of course. The noise gave me headaches. Tonight I would definitely not mind.

There were a few hours to kill so I looked around my place. The old windows did not seal and it was a constant battle to keep the place clean. It was covered in soot from the black organic fuels used by the factories.

I wished the Government would ban it. It polluted the whole area, and with the winds blowing from the sea the whole time, the city was constantly sweeping up soot.

Preferring my privacy, I had to do everything myself. It was a major effort to get down to housekeeping, but I placed all my concentration on my tasks, effectively blocking out any invading thoughts that wanted to surface.

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