The False Mountain

 

He started walking and soon realized that he was never alone. Every street, every house, every store and every park was filled with people. Having learned the plastic smile and the friendly wave, he greeted more people than he could even count. But the death and emptiness that filled his chest always remained, a constant reminder, a constant ache that filled his every waking moment. Distractions only worked for a time, until the distraction played itself out and he again sat in his silence trying to ignore the hollowness.

He walked to the edge of the city and looked out across the plain. It was literally flat and empty. There were no mountains, there were no trees, but only emptiness and barrenness. A small group of guards walked past him as he mused on the bizarre contradiction of empty loneliness while being trapped in a crowd.

“Is everything alright, sir?” one of them asked.

“Yes, yes, it’s all fine,” he lied. “Just getting away from the city for a few moments.”

“Well, don’t be out here too long,” he said. “There is safety in the city and there’s wild animals out here.”

Watching the guards walk away, he couldn’t help but feel that he had a small connection, a real one, with real people. With a sense of sadness, he turned away and walked back into the city. Avoiding eye contact with all those that passed, he stopped in the center of the main town square and looked up at the numerous flashing billboards. So many lights, so many words, and so much noise, he began to wonder if he was going insane. He looked at one billboard and tried to listen to the message the man was speaking. Dr. Odin MacLafee was giving an explanation of why his school of thought and linguistic was vastly superior to anything else being promoted by others.

Turning to the opposite square, he focused on the billboard there and though he could hear the words, the staccato delivery and the huge number of technical terms rendered the man’s message basically incoherent. Shaking his head and looking down at his shoes, he continued on his way and only felt worse than he did upon leaving the city’s edge.

Buying a newspaper at the small kiosk in front of his apartment building, he turned through seven pages before he found an article he could read. In a moment of frustration, he dropped the paper in the lap of a nearby homeless person and then jogged up the stairs to his second floor apartment. Stopping at his door, he paused, knowing what lay in wait for him behind his door. “A whole lot of nothing,” he thought. Taking the elevator to the forty-eighth floor, he stepped out onto the roof and walked to the edge.

High above the city he stood, looking down on nearly every other building, save one. At the far east end of the city stood the mountain, at least that is what everyone called it. It certainly was nothing like any mountain he had ever seen. More like the pyramid in Giza but smaller at the base with much taller steps to each level. The massive, odd building stood out from everything in the city, an eyesore, in his opinion, that never should have been started. But the tech party of the current government system insisted on building the thing.

He never understood the obsession with reaching the stars. The whole prospect seemed ridiculous, for the stars were clearly far beyond the reach of any building. He had heard whispers of ulterior motives for the building, but they were only rumors and hearsay. Though none of the rumors could be substantiated, he knew that a great number of highly influential men claimed to be in contact with transdimensional beings. These beings, it was said, offered immortality and limitless wisdom. All that needed to be achieved was the construction of this building to reach the stars.

Sitting on the edge of the small ledge around the top of the building, he looked out across at all of the busyness, all of the chaos and all of the noise. The sick feeling in his chest only got worse as he looked. Sure, the air was cleaner and fresher this high up, but that which oppressed him was something far different than mere physical ills. Returning to the elevator, his head hanging low and his hands shoved into his pockets, he could only return to his apartment and distract himself with something that didn’t burden his heart.

Waking up the next morning, he realized that he had no recollection of what happened once he returned to his apartment the night before. There was an odd smell in his living room and a horrible taste in his mouth and he was only wearing his socks. Sitting on the edge of his couch, he struggled to make sense of these seemingly disconnected details but was at a complete loss.

Taking a shower and eating breakfast, he was on his way out the door within thirty minutes. Walking into the main lobby, he could see people running past the main entrance. At first he assumed it was just a few people jogging but as the stream of runners continued, he began to believe that something was wrong. Behind him, the elevator chimed and Mrs. Novum stepped out.

“Good morning, ma’am,” he said, with a friendly smile, at least he hoped it was friendly.

The old woman merely looked at him and responded with a string of sounds that he assumed were words but were words that made absolutely no sense. With a small laugh and a wave, he stepped out of the main entrance onto the sidewalk. Though the city was typically chaotic on any given day, this particular day was particularly bad. Within the first block, he witnessed three fist fights and four arguments.

The volume and the words were so extreme, he began to wonder if he had hit his head or taken some medicine that was generating this overwhelming sense of confusion on his part. Catching sight of Paulo, his co-worker, he waved to get his attention. “Hey Paulo, hey, over here,” he shouted.

Paulo waved back and jogged over. “Man, am I glad to see you,” he said. “Can you believe what is going on today? This is crazy.”

“Uh, no… I mean… yes, what is going on?” he asked. “It seems like everyone is angry with everyone else. Did something happen?”

“Oh man, you must’ve just gotten up,” he said. “Did you not turn on the news this morning?”

“No, no news,” he answered. “I woke up late and was feeling odd so I hurried out after shower and a breakfast. What did I miss?”

“I hate to admit it,” he answered. “But all of that stuff that you’ve been saying for all these years about the way people talk and the weird shift in focus upon the stars, not to mention all of this stuff about transdimensional beings. I think you were right. It’s almost like all of the political parties have finally lost any ability to communicate with one another. If you just stand here for a few minutes and listen to the conversations going on, people are, literally, talking different languages.”

Sitting down on a nearby bench, he focused his attention on the small groups of people scattered around the sidewalks and storefronts. After a few minutes, he shook his head, bought a coffee from a street vendor and began walking toward his office. “I think you’re right,” he said. “None of this makes any sense. I guess I did see it coming but I never actually expected it to come to this. This is crazy.”

As the clock flipped to noon, he and Paulo met in the cafeteria and sat together, eating their lunch. A loud whistle pierced the random chatter throughout the room. The CEO of the company had stepped up on a table near the front of the room. “Attention everyone,” he shouted after whistling. “The President has an announcement to make. It will be on display up front here. I’ve been told that this is a very important message that will change everything we are doing here as a unified people. Listen up.”

“If you can understand what I’m saying,” the talking head on the screen said, “then you need to report to the west end of the city for further instruction.” As he finished, a second man replaced him on the screen and began speaking, but his words made no sense to him or Paulo. And finally a third man replaced the second and his words were as unintelligible as the second. This sequence repeated itself four more times and the gravity of the situation became clear to him.

“What the heck is going on here?” he said. “How did it get this bad? I guess we’re going to the west end of the city. I feel bad for those people with little kids and stuff. I wonder what this is all about.”

As he approached the train station, he bought a ticket for the west end and arrived with a mass of others. He did notice that everyone there was speaking intelligibly and calmly, which made perfect sense as they would be only those who understood the President’s message. The number of military personnel made him quite nervous as he watched them loading everyone onto transports. Watching one vehicle after another ascend to flight height and depart to the west, he tried to understand what was actually taking place.

Finally stepping into a transport himself, he looked back across the city as they ascended to begin their own flight away. As he looked as he saw scores of other vehicles on all sides of the city flying off in different directions. “Hey Paulo, are you seeing this?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah, pretty weird, huh?” he answered. “I was just talking to one of the guards and it seems that the President and the council have made the executive decision to split up and abandon the city. I guess no one can communicate any longer and they figure that dividing up is the only answer.”

“But there’s nothing out there, anywhere,” he answered. “What are we supposed to do? I have no idea how to survive in the wilderness. This is messed up.”

“I seem to think that a bunch of small villages that can communicate are better than a single massive city where we are only fighting,” Paulo said. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.”