The Impossible Future: Complete set by Frank Kennedy (mini ebook reader .txt) 📕

Its origin? The island chain known as The Lagos. The early lives of two notable residents of The Lagos are related herein.

     KARA SYUNG

Songs were written about her deeds, but primarily in association with her role during the War of Nine. For during those years, she received her greatest fame – and infamy, some might say. As one would expect, her own people viewed Kara through a different lens than off-worlders. Regardless of ethnic or political divisions, her life beginning in SY 5365 is well-documented. Resource bytes are available in the central stream archives of most worlds – especially those involved in the war. Therefore, I will not rehash these tales.

Rather, I set my interest on her formative years. When we study historical figures of note, we often overlook the factors that shaped them long before the world paid them proper due. My investigation into the pre-War life of Kara Syung took me to a place I knew little of: The island system known on Hokkaido as The Lagos. I unearthed stories of a unique culture struggling to maintain its identity after the fall of the Collectorate. I also found Kara was more complex than I imagined.

The following stories are loosely based upon my research and extensive interviews of survivors.

-         Dr. Orson Baatch, SY 5430

1 The Bullabast Tree

 

 

Standard Year 5357

 

K ARA SYUNG BECAME A GYMNAST when she climbed bullabast trees. She braved their unpredictable twists and knots. She swung upon and flipped over the foot-wide fingers that bent jagged to simulate an elderly hand unable to close a fist. She leaped between trunks and dangled from the narrowest branches. At the end of her exercises, she reached the clusters, where misshapen and spindly green fruit hung. She peeled off the slender shell of a bulla and tore into its pink, sugar-sweet flesh. The juice made a mess as it streamed down her chin.

She wasn’t supposed to be here. Much too dangerous, her parents said. The family estate had more than enough drone harvesters to retrieve the elusive fruit. What they failed to understand was that Kara did not climb the bullabast to capture fruit. She sought out the clusters because the giant leaves above the bullas – each thick as rubber but as soft as leather – formed a treehouse of sorts.

A perfect cubby inside which she could disappear.

The estate’s largest tree – the focal point of the west garden – towered over the gazebo where the Syung-Low clan hosted frequent revelries. They also used it as a convocation for their business partners, many of them Hokkaido’s greatest seamasters. For those gatherings, young ones such as Kara were forbidden. At least, that appeared to be the rule. Kara noticed a disturbing trend: Her slightly older brothers, Lang and Dae, joined with increasing frequency.

She made a point of climbing the tree an hour before the business guests arrived, having dismissed her personal staff on the excuse of visiting her best friend, Chi-Qua Baek, at the neighboring estate. Kara learned how to manipulate the torso-sized leaves to allow her a sneak peek upon the gazebo. The amp bead in her left ear magnified the audio.

Many guests were repeat visitors, often executives from the planet’s leading seamaster corporations – Nantou Global and Hotai Counsel – both based here on the island-city of Pinchon. From time to time, however, trade negotiators and competitors from the continent came bearing gifts and a subservient tone, not unlike what Kara heard from the estate staff. They spoke of environmental and political challenges unlike anything present on Pinchon, alluding to problems that seemed alien. Kara heard stories about the hardships on many other colonies of the Collectorate, but her schooling suggested the two billion residents of Hokkaido lived as grand an existence as any outside the empire’s home world, Earth.

The prices for Kohlna fish were rising too rapidly, the negotiators told her parents. Many of the poorest Hokkis in megacities such as Puratoon, Senjo, and New Seoul struggled to afford enough Kohlna meal to feed their families. Her parents thought these claims to be ridiculous, insisting the supply of Kohlna was infinite, and processors moved at the fastest pace in history.

“Who are we to feed the entire world?” Her father asked. “You can farm twenty percent of the continent. It’s not our fault if your agricultural policies are inefficient and antiquated.”

Every time Kara’s father made this claim, the negotiators responded with the same but.

“But Honorable Syung, you know our problem does not lie with our policies. The land is in decline. You have seen the reports. And the domed hydro-gardens do not produce at a rate to meet population growth.”

Kara’s father, the Honorable Perr Syung, No. 2 Executive at Nantou and political liaison with the continent, spoke with a stern countenance while his wife, Li-Ann, sat in silence at his side with a dutiful half-smile.

“This problem,” Perr Syung said, “has been building for too long, and the solution remains simple. Only the obstinance of clans like yours stand in the way of progress.” He pointed to the sky. “They have the answers. Almost certainly willing to help, if you Freelanders would swallow your pride and ask for assistance.”

Her father’s words cut deep. The man he insulted bowed his head. Was it the reference to the Chancellors? Was it a reminder of the schism between Hokkis that deepened with each generation? Either way, the dialogue might only deteriorate from here. This was not the first time Kara witnessed such a turn.

Perr invoked the Chancellors, who orbited Hokkaido in great city-ships called Ark Carriers. These ships, each of them miles-long, parked themselves above the planet centuries ago, shortly after colonization, and never left. Dozens of generations of Chancellors lived and died aboard the Carriers, but most rarely ventured to the surface. They were the ruling caste – wealthier,