#solarpunkstory

[punkhammer]

Chapter 4 of my solarpunk story

Tiny Chapter 4

The boat untetherd and cruising on auto pilot in the direction of the coast Togel and K-9 are sat at the front of the boat dangling there bare legs over the edge, letting water lap up and splash onto their feet and soaking up the early spring time sun while dolphins leap over and around them from every direction while a flock of birdss follow them from up high in a nearly cloudless sky. Togel is used to this by now, after all she has been living at sea for about 15 years and knows how truly alive the oceans are. But the look on K-9’s face —now that is a truly beautiful sight to her. His eyes almost falling out of his head as he tries desperately to see everything there is to see, his mouth seemingly in a permanent state of mid-yawn, open in amazment. Skin glowing in the sun shine she knows this moment is much bigger for him than it is her and that made it special.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” She asks. He replies with a sadness like he wishes he is “

“No.” Not taking his eyes off the dolphins for a second.

“So you from the Technostates?”

“Yeah did my robot hand give me away?” Holding up his left hand as if confesing a shameful secret.

“Well yes, that and the fact you were screaming in 1’s and 0’s last night.”

“Oh yeah sorry abot that.”

“No no reson to be sorry kid, just people don’t normally talk in those sorts of languages around here. So you never been here but where have you been? Where has your traveling life taken you so far?” K-9 finaly takes his eyes off the dolphins and lowers his head, staring at his feet in some sort of preperation to confes a crime.

“Um nowhere actually, I aint realy seen nowhere at all, that is except the village I lived in my whole life, but that’s just a metal slab. A place to launch off from or land on, nothing to see there.”

“What do you mean nowhere? You’re Ratkin aren’t you? One of the dirty kids ride or die traveling punx, no?”

“Um well no, actually I’m not” his head sank deeper below his sholders, almost in line with his knees. He wishes he could submerge his entire head under the water and dissapear under the ocean of shame, but he thinks to himself he owes the nice lady an explanation. After all she had saved his life, not to mention she could make the best damed hot cocoa he’d ever tasted, so he proceeds without lifting his head. “I live, I mean lived, in that village I mentioned. Yeah that slab of metal, well I was the only kid there you see, just me my mom and dad and a hand full of old fishermen and their tired wives. There really was nothing to do except from time to time the Ratkin would show up looking for boats to give them lifts to all sorts of places and sometimes they would get stuck in my village for days. I liked it when they got stuck, it felt like the village would turn into a city for those days. There would be fires on the beach and music and stuff. Anyway I would always go and introduce myself to them. Some were mean but most were nice.”

He lifts his head with excitment and pride, “one of them gave me this jacket its not fake or anything its a real life Ratkin denim jacket. I wanted a tattoo but he wouldn’t give me one, but to stop me nagging he gave me his jacket. It’s cool isnt it?”

“Yeah mate you got some nice patches on there, do you know the bands?”

“Of course! Im not a poser,” he says like he’d never been so insulted in his life “I downloaded them on this thing didn’t I.” Waving his robotic hand with a cheeky smile .

“Okay we’re almost there now so go pack your bag I think your stuff should be dry by now.” Looking up at a range of clothes waving in the wind, K-9 jumps up and gets busy pulling the clothes off the line one by one and cramming them into his bag, whilst Togel prepares the boat for docking. Land is approaching and K-9 looks up to see a golden beach with a background of dark thick forest glistening in the sunlight. A far cry from what he knows beaches to be back home. He likes this new view much more and wishes he could show mom and dad. He thinks to himself, they would like it more too.

[punkhammer]

1st chapter of my ongoing solar punk story

Tiny Chapter 1

A large ocean and a small boat upon it. Not far from the coast, just far enough for the sounds of animalistic calling and the sound of dry leaves upon the trees to be completely replaced by the endless lapping of waves. The sail boat is not alone for long, as it slowly approaches a vast and open forest of floating wind turbines all painted in elaborate and bright colors. Some are covered with politacal slogans and others with poetry, all swaying from side to side gently rocking the boats that had been atached to them at their base. Like any forest of any kind the illusion of stillness and quiet becomes more and more transparent the colser you are to it, and as the ship pulls up close to its own wind turbine the illusion is shattered by a flock of gulls swooping overhead as the boat is slung into the side of the turbine by an overzealous wave.

Togel with one hand upon the boat and another swinging a large rope above her head, squinting her eyes to sheild them from the rain, hurls the heavy rope with such force and momentum that it hits the turbine, wrapping itself around its tall stem and looping back towrds the boat, landing at togels feet with a perfection that lets slip the secret she has done this hundreds if not thousands of times. She lifts the rope, pulls it taut and ties a simple but effective knot, then proceeds to place a series of bamboo V shaped stuctures between the boat and the turbine to prevent the waves from any future plans of propelling her small vesel into the side of her much larger wind turbine.

It’s midafter noon by this point, giving her plenty of time to unload the stack of used up batteries before the sun went down. So hoping the rain will pass, she closes the cabin door, entering inside while simultaneously taking off her wet colthes, which is all of them by this point, and grabbing a thick blancket which she wraps around herself, wearing it as if it is a large cloak. Cold, hungry, and tired she feels it’s far too much energy to cook and far too cold to not consume anything hot. So she does what she normally does after a hard days work. She puts a small pot of water on the conduction hob for tea and heaves in the fridge bag which hangs deep below the boat, within the cool depths of the ocean. Rifeling through it for something or maybe anything to eat within 5 minutes, she is soon deep inside the fortress of blankets and pillows that is her bed with a piping hot cup of nettle tea and an undeniably rushed but unbelievably delicious meal of raw tofu sprinkeld with crushed chillie, salt and pepper with a selection of sides including but not limeted to bean yogurt, garlic chutney, sour kraut, sun dried tomatos, olives, and the last of yesterday’s daal. This may or may not sound perfectly delicious to you, the reader, but to Togel this is truly fine dining beyond the grips of the most critically acclaimed chefs on any of the 3 continents, because this food tastes like home.

After finishing the food and drink there are still a good couple of hours of sun light left, so she sits back looking at the passing clouds through one of the small glass sun roofs in the ceiling. And as she does, a sound travels over the crisp air and straght into Togel’s ears. It’s the sound of Blue Grass. Togel loves Blue Grass and someone out there, on a boat most likely bound to a wind turbine not to dissimilar to hers, has a banjo and is playing all her favorite songs. She closes her eyes to let in the sound with no distractions.