The Last Traveller #1 - Home

The last traveler. Stamped in big letters across her port pass. Diana had seen those letters so many times.  They were the rarest words on the planet, yet she gave them so little attention these days. “One could get used to anything,” she thought to herself. Coming back here was hard. The port opened for her automatically. The body scan, mapping her DNA, had already taken place before she stepped out of the transporter. Her port pass was an archaic and official document the confederacy didn’t want to let go of. She was required to have it on her at all times in her travels.  She made a mental note to talk to Etta about this next time they had a serious talk about travel protocol.

There was so much to talk to Etta about. She had a present for her too. She had found it on her travels. It had given her a sense of pride in finding the lamp. Etta would love it, she knew. Bringing back things Etta would like was something she knew how to do. However, the lamp from Xelor would be a constant reminder of that dreadful night, the night she was born. But it didn’t matter. Somethings couldn’t be forgotten; like when and where you were born. Into what state and Tribe. She had wanted nothing more than to sink into the molten rock of Trellidor and end herself. But she couldn’t. The elders wouldn’t allow it. How had they known what she was thinking? This thought flashed into mind as the light of the star gun flashed in the sky. Her eyes traced the white light across it as her mind wandered through the galaxy of her memories.

She shivered at the thought of her birth. Etta had betrayed her. She hated her for it at the time. No need to rehash old wounds. The Last Traveler was born, not chosen. That she knew. How many times had that been said to her – a thousand, a hundred thousand? She had stopped counting. She had not wanted to be born the Last Traveler. There is a desperation and a type of depression in not having any control or say in the matter of one’s birth, she thought. It was the ultimate helplessness and she hated to feel helpless.  She had not chosen this life and role. It had been a chance happening. A random fertilized egg that had brought her to this moment. Why couldn’t she choose another life and not to be the Last Traveler? Why couldn’t she choose not to live?

Nothing would change in the travel protocol. She doubted it would. They liked to hold onto tradition. Especially for the last traveler.  She was their, what had Tesla called her, living relic.

The public awaited as she exited the port. They were always there. Asking for information about the bad lands or pictures from the sweet lands. So curious, the public. Wanting to know where she had been and what she had seen. It was a secret. She wanted to share the beauty her eyes had captured, but it would mean the last traveler would never again travel. Getting through the masses was her homecoming. People trapped in the now that would always be here, this very place and province they were born to. She shivered at the thought of how random it all was.

She touched elbows with many as she walked from the port to the station. Physical contact was a class thing. Even if she wanted to shake hands, it was forbidden. The guards would not punish her for shaking hands, but they would punish those who had shaken her hand. It was unfair, but that was how the system worked. People shouted out their questions to her, knowing there would be no answer. In fact, her return answered their most pressing question. There was still something out there to visit.  

The transport car was empty, as it always was. She punched in the code and the doors closed. She took a deep breath. God it was good to be home. The smell of the tanned leather of the train, the bottle of champagne cold in the cooler and her favourite snack of mixed jelly fish made her almost want to cry. She was home. Travelling takes its toll.

 The city was dark. The electricity was out again. Poor souls who had no way of charging up life cells would be dead by morning. The last traveler has special privileges. She would survive no matter what. She would have to speak to Tesla about this. Power for everyone. She remembered the soft light her mother used in the kitchen while cooking. The beautiful light. Her mother would tell her that the way the light fell from the lamp was important and not just any light bulb or lamp was good enough. That lamp in the kitchen was the soul of the dwelling and her mother’s favourite possession. In those days there had always been plenty of power and light. It was even normal to read after supper and watch the archaic system called TV. That same lamp was now her prized possession and brought her delight and comfort after her travels.

The air was warm, summer on its way. The train docked at her dwelling. She took the bottle of champagne with her. The lights came on immediately and the voice from her AI welcomed her home. “Good evening, Queen Eleanor, how was your trip?”

“Call me Diana, you moron!”

“I cannot compute, try again.”

“Shut up.”

“As you wish Queen Elanor.”  She didn’t answer but went into the kitchen to sit down under her mother’s light. ‘God, how I miss you.’ She thought as the light softly touched her skin, like her mother had until she would never again. Her mother would have had a meal ready and sit and listen to her latest adventure. Diana would be able to laugh and tell her almost everything.  

She passed her AI on her way to the bedroom, ‘Light and power, but no soul.’, she thought. The AI saw everything but nothing as she shed her clothes on the bedroom floor. Almost before they touched the floor the AI was coming towards them, “Stop!” she exclaimed, tearing up. She wanted it to be chaotic and disorderly and fucked up. She wanted her mother to come in and shout at her for dumping her clothes on the floor. She stood naked before the AI. It saw but did not register. She knew how the programming worked; she had seen it being made at the confederacy. It saw her nakedness but did not register it as part of its privacy rules. She would have to scream rape to get any response from her AI. It would trigger the emergency call to the control center and just like that, her life would be invaded. So, she stood there in front of it naked and unashamed.  It didn’t flinch. Neither did she. It was a stand-off. A game. Like when she was a child and they would compete to see who would blink first.  She missed the human touch. The welcome hug or a back rub that came to her from her youth. All forbidden now for the last traveler.

She turned and walked to the bathroom. The AI followed. She had named this particular model Bob. She didn’t know why. Its technical name was Xcilliem 3000. The name of the company that made the AI and the model number or year. She didn’t know and didn’t care.

Bob ran the bath for her. Bob was a slave; she had read about eunuchs in her Last Traveler training. She thought a lot about that. Men without balls. Men who saw everything. Men without testosterone and ego. Testosterone was ego, wasn’t it? How would a world look with men ruling it and making the decisions? She shivered.  She could not imagine such a world. She had read the stories, but her head couldn’t wrap itself around it.

The bath was hot, the stones touched her back as she sank into the water. They started vibrating, calibrating her physical being. She took a deep breath in, held on to it for as long as possible and then blew it all out. It felt good. She let the customised massage tendrils release the stress from her body. It was the only time her body was touched. That wasn’t quite true, but she had to hold onto illusions. This was the only physical relief she was allowed.

The last traveler was untouchable. She had begged to be hugged, but the elders wouldn’t allow it. Her title made her untouchable, ostracized and isolated. Everyone wanted to be her. She wanted to be everybody. Nobody wanted to be themselves. She could just as well have been a diseased creature who people would and could not touch. Tears fell from her face and melted into the water, becoming the collective pain of the last travelers before her.

She was the Last Traveler. Untouchable. It said so in her port pass.