Rising Up

2. Will Verus

2

Will Verus

Will Verus, another citizen of Tranquility, was celebrating.

Just yesterday, he was a Level Six. Today, a Level Twelve. Rising up so many levels was an unprecedented accomplishment. The story hit the Tranquility newsfeed immediately.

Four blocks south of Grand Avenue, Will stood on a deserted street corner headed to work. He ran his fingers through his bleach-blond hair and watched in disbelief as his very own face flashed up on a ten-foot mega screen elevated high above the boulevard. His picture then became reduced to a smaller window in the upper corner. An official-looking commentator loomed large on the main screen and began to recount yesterday’s events:

“Fate entered Will Verus’s life with his rescue of a young teen, age twelve, who climbed the Bird’s Eye Pass Bridge immediately before the 2:15 p.m. Maglev Monorail’s passing. As the Maglev sped toward the boy, Will Verus risked his own life by climbing the bridge pylons and was able to pull the boy to safety. The boy, Jesse Educari, lives in Orange Glen, and Will’s heroics allowed Jesse to return home with no injury. For this amazing rescue, Will Verus is now a recognized Tranquility VIP. He will be taking his place as a Plauditor this very day.”

Wow, he thought. High profile. A five-second wave of anxiety struck him—in, then out.

The broadcaster continued. “Remember, fine citizens. Every point on your Alt is important. You alone can rise up! You need only to concentrate on being happy. Improvements in your neighborhood, your food, your clothing, your job … it is all within you. Make it your goal to score more points today than yesterday.”

The reporter finished his broadcast for the morning by praising Tranquility’s low crime rate and encouraging listeners to have a “happy, positive day.” He adjusted his shiny silver tie and smoothed the lapels on his high-class sterling plaid jacket. He gave the common salute and signed off. The giant screen faded out and returned with images of fireworks and positive quotes and affirmations.

Other city dwellers were now, one by one, emerging out of early morning wispy fog, finally beginning to join him on the corner. He smiled at the rainbow of color they made. Their clothes heralded every Status hue. The founders of Tranquility were so creative!

He smiled at the easy way that the people of lower Status walked respectfully behind those of the higher classes. It was so orderly. No one forced their way ahead on the street. Kind of like built-in manners, he thought. A system was in place to insure proper behavior. He watched as a girl in brown fell back behind a man in orange. Level Five defers to Level Thirteen.

A few people did a double take after recognizing him from the broadcast, giving him the Tranquility salute in greeting, smiling broadly at him, or warmly praising him. He modestly waved them off. He didn’t like being an instant celebrity.

It wasn’t that Will didn’t appreciate the points, but what made him feel on top of the world was the opportunity to help another person in distress. He felt amazing in spite of the harrowing experience he had climbing the bridge and grabbing the boy.

Will noticed the streetlight signal change. The word “proceed” blinked in green to the rhythm of a conga beat. Time to be moving on.

Heads swiveled in Will’s direction as he strode around the corner to Bliss Avenue. Not only was he freshly famous, his Plauditor’s uniform made him worthy of respect and admiration.

Yet, even without the uniform, he was already used to attention. Like a reflection of his inner self, Will dazzled. His sun-kissed hair, light tan, ultra-white smile, and physically fit body would have been enough to set him apart; however, his eyes were the scene-stealer. They were like emeralds; the brilliant green color leapt from his face and sparkled.

Running footsteps broke Will’s concentration. “Will!” The unmistakable voice brought a smile to his face.

Will turned to see his best friend, Weeford, closing the gap behind him. Weeford's brilliant white grin sharply contrasted with his deep brown skin.

“Hey, buddy—what’s goin’ on?” Will called out. “You’re never out this way.”

Will had his share of friends. He had always been popular. But he preferred to spend his time with Weeford, whom he’d known since they both were Level Ones, two five-year-old kids just starting out.

In those early childhood days, they both wore white, but today Weeford wore a pink long-sleeved t-shirt, tight jean-styled denim pants, and the required matching shoes, a basic slip-on with a rubber sole. Will didn’t like the color. Unless it was his favorite ice cream, Pink Lemonade.

Wee closed the gap between them, throwing his arm over Will’s shoulders, practically knocking him over. “Just hopin’ to catch you. Gotta congratulate you in person. You the MAN!” He patted Will on the shoulder heavily.

“No big deal, c’mon.”

Wee laughed, the noise booming out, turning heads around them. Wee never had any volume control and had a voice to match his vast size. “Yeah, it is! And look at that uniform. Wooo Hoooo! Man, oh man! It’s gonna take me a while to get used to seein’ you in that thing. You look good, even for you,” he joked, “but I just never imagined you as a Plauditor.”

Will’s uniform was an enviable piece of fashion. A smooth black suede, the jacket fit him perfectly. Across the back it boasted real silver rivets, setting off a striking yellow stripe, marking his newly acquired Status. Stripe-matching suede also dressed up the narrow collar. The front simply zipped up, but its heavy, inch-wide sterling zipper had a “no nonsense” visual effect. On each wrist were cuffs, accented by single silver rivets on each arm. His pants were a solid black knit—the better to allow comfort and movement—but were trimmed with stripes of yellow suede over each front pocket. Inside the jacket, a smooth yellow knit shirt fit like a second skin. This suit stood out among Tranquility’s showy multi-colored clothing as a bold statement of authority.

Will smiled and nudged his friend on the shoulder. “Black’s ugly, but I’m gonna try to make it look good.”

“Yeah, right. The yellow stripe on that hat looks like a halo. And you’re no angel. I know the real truth about you.”

Will laughed and gave Wee a shove. “Just don’t tell anyone,” he said in his most dramatic voice. Taking off his hat, he twirled it with his fingers and then tossed it up to catch it a few times before dropping it at his feet.

“Well, I won’t be competing with you in scoring points. Your Alt’s gotta be on fire! How many points did you rack up, anyway?” Wee said.

Will picked up his hat and put it back on his head, its brim to the back. “Because of yesterday? I figure 16,000 points maybe. To rise up, it’s a 4,000-point increase, right? I’m still in shock.” Will opened his eyes wide and put his hands on both sides of his face, clowning around.

Then he got serious. He glanced down at the Alt on his wrist. Its leather band was embossed with every one of Tranquility’s Status colors in a mosaic design. The Alt’s face—a two-inch digital screen—was square and flat. The numbers on the black background changed constantly depending on the function being displayed. It not only told time; it was his communication device. But its most important function was its purpose—to track the way he felt every minute of his life. It measured every single emotion. This minute he was happy, but he always felt the pressure to keep his mood light.

Weeford whistled. "Won’t be long you’ll be moving out of Turquoise Towers and into Yellow Sunrise. Ya won’t want to walk to my place."

Will said in disbelief, “Can you believe it? All my dreams are coming true. I just wish…”

Weeford shook his head up and down. “I get it. I know your family’s story. Your family still lives in White Sands. And why would anyone want to live his or her life on Level One? I don’t understand why your parents can’t seem to rise up.”

Will looked around, suddenly conscious of the people around them easily hearing the conversation about his parents. It was okay that Weeford knew everything about his family. But he didn’t want it broadcast all over the street corner.

Will felt his face flush. Whether from embarrassment about his parents or guilt about feeling that way, it was an emotion to avoid. Time to put a positive spin on it. “Me? I don’t want to wear white every day. Be a Level One. No living in a two-bunk, one-bath, solo-bedroom apartment.”

Weeford said, “You turned eighteen anyway. You’re on your own. You do what you need to do. Your parents have a whole different idea of life.”

“My parents say they want to live ‘simple lives,’” Will said, “but I don’t believe it. It’s like they’re stuck or afraid to move up—I don’t know. Their lives are limited. They can’t afford to buy anything they want or eat great food. It upsets me.”

Weeford’s face showed concern, his eyebrows looking like caterpillars going uphill. “You can’t let it upset you. Their situation isn’t about you. Don’t let your points drop over it. Remember, they—”

“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself–you know that. But, yeah. I know I’ve told you what my parents believe. And you’ve kept it a secret. Thanks. But now I’m a Level Twelve, I’m gonna get them out of White Sands.”

“Will, how’re you gonna do that? It’s not like you’re Elite.”

“Someday, Wee.”

Will gazed out across the intersection, now a hive of colors and activity, but he didn’t really see any of it. His mind was in a faraway place. He badly wanted to be important, and that meant rising up. But he never wanted to do it at someone else’s expense. In his heart, he knew he had a purpose, and it was far bigger than himself.

“Only four more levels to go, and you’ll be a candidate for the Elite. Then I can say ‘I knew you when,’” Wee said.

Will’s face brightened. “As Elite, I could help make decisions to help people like my parents. I would honor my grandfather. He taught me so much about supporting our government and making Tranquility a better place.”

Wee nodded. “It wouldn’t surprise me if you also got an Augur Prize for what you’ve done. I can see that happening, too.”

“You give me too much credit, Wee. If it weren’t for Jesse’s rescue, I’d just be an ordinary guy.”

“But your Alt points don’t drop—ever. Don’t know how you do it. Nothing bothers you or upsets you. For the rest of us, growing our Alt points is a challenge,” Wee said.

Will knew it was true. He had an incredible mindset. Although he still had to check and recheck his Alt like everyone else, he made his point increases an unparalleled personal quest. Like a young athlete diligently preparing for the Olympics, he practiced the art of self-control until he thought his soul would bleed.

Will looked at his friend. “I try really hard. To be honest, though, I have fears—fears I’ll never be able to help my parents. Letting my grandfather down. Keeping myself apart from emotional risks, like girls. Failing at my new job … it all scares me, Wee. I’m not stone, even though I want to be.”

The surrounding fog was lifting, evaporating in the mystical way Tranquility controlled its precipitation. The monthly vapor acted as a cleaning process for the city, purifying their enclosed city from within. Rays of sun shone through translucent holes in the mist, making the space look other worldly. Will gazed up, his focus on the sparkle that hung in the air.

Weeford punched Will’s arm. “Yeah. And now that you’re a Level Twelve, you can’t even date anyone with a lower Status. That’s gonna be a real challenge. Who you gonna find your age who’s a Level Twelve?”

“Nobody.” Will hung his head. “I’m not ready to think about that, though. I just want to do what’s best for Tranquility and be happy.”

As if his fears literally came to life, he watched as two men dressed in bright red robes with hoods come out from Seventh Heaven, a popular restauran across the street. Sciolists! They carried a young, protesting female with purple hair toward a crimson CommuteCar parked at the curb. The teenage girl—a lowly Level One—flailed against her unwelcome detainers with her arms and legs. “Let go of me! Let go!” she screamed. The fight she put up clearly marked her as a resistor. No one acted like that, even in a Removal. It just wasn’t proper.

He and Wee both turned to watch, their mouths agape, along with others standing along the sidewalk. One by one, people looked away or cast their eyes downward, embarrassed, and moved on. The girl, still screaming, and the silent Sciolists carrying her disappeared into the car. The CommuteCar took off, moving down the street as if it were a common occurrence.

“Poor girl,” Will finally said. “Did you see her face? So red. She was crying.” His face crumpled in sympathy, and his Alt vibrated with a surge in points. For compassion and kindness, the Alt was generous. “I’d like to help people like that.”

“I’ve never seen a Removal in progress before, have you?” Wee said.

“No. Must be a pretty severe violation of emotion, though. She was hysterical. Not good.”

“Just so long as it’s never one of us,” Wee said.

“I hope she gets the help she needs.”

“Maybe she’s going directly to The Outside,” Wee said, in an uncharacteristic whisper, his eyes wide.

“Hope not. The climate out there’s enough to drive people insane. I’ve heard things. It’s either blistering hot or ungodly cold. Always gray. That—and other things. Can’t believe anyone could actually survive out there.”

Wee said, “I’ll take my blue skies and 75 degrees in Tranquility, please. Climate control rocks.”

Will’s Alt buzzed a warning. The GPS tracker connected to his Alt showed he wasn’t close enough to his destination to be there at eight A.M.

“I’d better get going. I don’t wanna be late.” Will began walking backward as he talked. “Wish me luck for my first day … I’m headed to the Plauditorium now.”

“You don’t need luck, Will—you might as well have ‘Too Talented’ written in the sky over your head.” Weeford wrote with his finger in the air. “You’ve got it all now, buddy! Catch ya later.”

Will, intent on making up time, strode forward, but stopped, turning back to his friend.

“Wee! Hang out later?” he yelled.

“Can’t today. Gotta work late,” he called back.

Weeford waved again and then darted across the adjacent crosswalk into Prosperity Park and blended in with the Pink Level Fours like himself, waiting in line to go over the bridge.

Will watched him until he disappeared. From his vantage point, it looked like a rainbow of colors fanned out, starting with the Level Eighteens dressed in gold at the front of the line. A peaceful process for a perfect city.

The last block to the Plauditorium was down a charming street with little shops, all with friendly facades and inviting scents. The Candy Tree was first on his left. Its picture window featured precisely carved chocolate creations, hung with red licorice and flowers made from frosting. It cost very few of his Alt points to acquire candy from the store, and it was always busy, filled with people, even this morning as he sauntered by. He grinned as he watched the children buying candy for breakfast, their faces full of smiles and their bodies jumping up and down in anticipation. Lucky kids. He looked past the sign that barred anyone below a Level Three from entering the store. The memory of his own disappointment as a child when he was excluded from the shop surfaced momentarily, but he quickly dismissed it. He no longer had those restrictions. His new Status would allow him to purchase so many excellent things—from tailored clothes to gourmet food.

Next door, The Wild Hair, one of Tranquility’s salons, boasted its popularity with luminescent pink, green, and yellow curly cues on its facade. He sidestepped a thin, smiling woman who emerged from the door. Her bright pink hair stood straight out around her head like a lion’s mane. Of course, it matched her outfit, a Level Four, through and through.

A seventy-inch monitor on his left invited prospective patrons to witness inspiring makeovers. Anyone in Tranquility, man or woman, could get a luxurious spa treatment—featuring an effervescent green solution called Lustrum—and emerge looking years younger and refreshed. No one had to worry much about appearing old unless they didn’t have enough Status or Alt points to get an appointment. Some day. Someday I might need that.

The Detoxification Station, the third store on the street, was a bold, kelly green, the color used to represent nurturing and new beginnings. He gave a nod and a smile to the lovely models outside the door who were giving out samples of freshly minted water and cleansing minerals. Each sample not only tasted refreshing but gave each person who samples it a burst of energy to face their day. A virtual reality advertisement in the window announced the shop’s special for the day. They were offering a half-off special only for Level Twelves to honor Energy, that Status Level’s unique trait. Will politely passed on the offer as he thought, I have more energy than I need.

Staring into The Salt Mine’s window next, Will pressed the app on his Alt to remind him to stop there later. He remembered he was out of Jarnish—the best tiny cracker in town. Sprinkled with sea salt, cinnamon, and coated in peanut oil, it was a sticky, addictive treat. He continued on down the crowded street with new anticipation, knowing he would be able to snack on Jarnish on his way home.