The Descent by Chipka
Close
Hover over top left image to zoom.
Click anywhere to exit.
Members remain the original copyright holder in all their materials here at Renderosity. Use of any of their material inconsistent with the terms and conditions set forth is prohibited and is considered an infringement of the copyrights of the respective holders unless specially stated otherwise.
Description
It had been six years since the evacuation: three since the return. And still, the city felt empty.
_____ had been alive then: a child in today’s reckoning. He remembered the reports, the talking heads on television advising caution and calm. He remembered the National Guard and strange armies of operatives, though no one could name their organization. Everyone simply called them Spooks, and during the Empty years, they occupied the city.
Now, after the return, there were no spooks, but _____ felt them on occasion. Everyone said that they didn’t leave—the spooks—and that they were a new function of the city: some meta-real immune-structure infused into the fabric of the city so that another evacuation would not be necessary. Others said that the spooks were the cause of the evacuation and that they had…done things. No one ever said what, but you could hear that Italic-font-emphasis whenever they spoke. You could see it in their eyes.
They did things.
And so the operatives were now a part of the city’s mythologized past. _____ thought of them as he descended the gritty, iron-impregnated concrete steps to the Zero-Line. He could hear the whisper of air forced through the underground tunnels as sleek bullet-nosed trains rode cushions of magnetic levitation. The maglevs were the first signs that the return was a successful one…the first signs that people felt safe. But _____ remembered the fear, the screams, the arsonist-looter’s fires, and he heard them on more occasions than he dared consider.
He heard them now: somewhere beneath the soft thump of his footsteps. (Or was it his heart pounding in his ears?) They were strange noises, almost human. And behind the sound: a whisper. (It was always the same lisping susurrus. An insect noise.) It never came in words, but he always felt that there were words involved. He never knew what they were…and now, as he made the descent to the maglev platform he listened to them, carefully, as if such concentration might reveal whatever they have to say.
The whispers, he believed, were one of the things the operatives did. He heard them daily, and in strange ways he couldn’t articulate, they were a chilling comfort, a reminder that, yes, the operatives did things, and whatever those things were, the city was safe.
For now.
****
I have no idea where this text actually came from. I suspect it has to do with my thoughts on the novel Dhalgren. At one time, that was my favorite novel (that was before Perdido Street Station and The Scar.
Dhalgren by Samuel R. Delany concerns itself with a number of topics all couched in some vaguely defined apocalypse that overcame the fictional city of Bellona. It is a "city novel" in much the same way that China Miéville's novels (Perdido Street Station and The Scar are also city novels...though I dare you to find a city as inventive as the one in The Scar.) And as I live in Chicago--an oddly protean city--now, I occasionally wonder what strange apocalypse has occurred. Chicago has gone through something, and it manifests itself in a kind of fetid, cloying level of blithering stupidity (and gun violence, and overt 'race politics') and it all brings me back to the novel Dhalgren and how strangely prophetic it turned out to be. Something happened here, and insanity is its only marker. This doesn't upset me, however, Chicago goes through these periods quite regularly (as does any big city that thinks too much of itself.) But it does make me wonder what interesting apocalypse has occurred.
***
As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting...and hopefully soon, I'll catch up with comments I've been wanting to make since...way back when.
Comments (23)
Roxam
your illustration is an incredible image--your post-work on this image is stunning... and, of course, your prose... another "superbly crafted-flow" ... thank you!
alessimarco
Such a familiar scene...so well captured...and so brilliantly worked into your story!
auntietk
I love the idea of the spooks doing things just out of conscious range. Being able to hear them, but that the sound fades to background noise. Something most people probably don't hear after a while. Well written, and the image is perfect for the story.
beachzz
Now I know what those sounds are. Those damn spooks. Truly awesome (yeah, THAT word) foto and your words simply bring it to life.
Liam.
Hi, Friend. Lovely image
durleybeachbum
Another double-sided gem! I just love the POV of your photo, low over the metal at the bottom. Once again you remind me of huge gaps in my reading..
MrsRatbag
Yes, eerie and post-apocalyptic too. It must be time once again to reread Dhalgren again, I do love that book...
flavia49
fantastic story and image!!
helanker
I will have to read this later as I was away most of the day. But i just Love the shot. Gorgeous golden colors. Look fantastic, Chip.
kgb224
Outstanding capture and story line my friend.
sandra46
AWESOME IMAGE!! GREAT TEXT!!! WELL DONE!!
jac204
Great treatment to the image. Great text.
Foto-Arte
Fantastic work as always and a great read!
watapki66
Very wonderfully done!
blondeblurr
You enhanced this story/observation with this coppery glow and it gives it real warmth...I absolutely love this kind of manipulation. 'The Empty years' ? that sounds really sad , jail-like and speaks of darkness, maybe even frustration, having to wait for better times... BB
EricSBauer
Outstanding POV and composition! A very cool shot all around!
Alex_Antonov
Very nice!
myrrhluz
I love all the mystery in your story. Rumours, fears and a remembered horror, not understood. The idea of going through your life with a reality, felt almost heard, but always just beyond the senses. I like the hints, the possibilities and the uncertainty that lead him to find both numbing fear and an odd comfort in the presence of the spooks. Love the image! Excellent perspective and atmosphere. He stands out from his surroundings and seems very exposed and vulnerable. Wonderful image and words, that left me wanting to know more!
zulaan
Beautiful gold tones ! Great composition !
KatesFriend
Great story as always. Apt that the 'Operatives' were often described as phantoms. In your telling, they are just as ephemeral and their purpose just as cloudy. Are they evil? Are they good? Maybe they are outside of such notions. Maybe there are factions of these people all working at cross purposes but still detached from the rest of humanity. As for Chicago, she is the largest city near to the frontier between to great continental watersheds - the Mississippi and the St. Lawrence. One realm bound to the warm, bright, tropical waters of the Gulf of Mexico, the other to the dark, cold of the North Atlantic. And there is even an old canal that links the two which flows through the city itself - if I remember correctly. As with all realms so different, where they come together and mix are places of great turbulence. Like with weather, warm and cold fronts collide to make thunder storms. Chicago, might be seen as stradling this storm front. 'Windy City' is rather apt when you look at it that way.
bmac62
Chip, As Chicago plays in the back of your consciousness while reading and writing, New York plays in mine. I think of the Con-Edison workers in hard-hats setting up folding metal barriers in the middle of downtown streets, pulling up the extra heavy manhole covers and descending into that other world that lies just below the streets of Manhattan. We residents or visitors rarely get to see down there. Maybe that is where the spooks of Manhattan live?! The best glimpse of the edge of that world comes when you stand on a subway platform peering into a darkened tunnel at either end of that very same platform. Your texts like this always get me thinking of strange environs. I suppose even my home town for the last 30 years...of Leavenworth, Kansas...has a potential for intrique and strange goings on in the out of the way places and unknown spaces built here beginning in the 1840s and 1850s. First class bit of writing my friend.
faroutsider
I've just noticed the spook at the top of the stairs... This is wonderful story telling. I'd love to see you compile a number of your vignettes into a mosaic, a novel of many different voices and points of view...
Asmoday
The colors in here are just outstanding, excellent POV