Life in the Floating City

By AR Neal

Life in the Floating City uses the songs of musician/producerThomas Dolby’s 2011 studio album Map of the Floating City as a framework for the story of Anderson Brown, husband, friend, and attorney, who lives on the Floating City, a place that serves as a pit stop on the edge of the Sombrero Galaxy for interstellar explorers, transport ships, and leisure travelers.
Anderson and his wife, Caroline (who is having an affair with Anderson's best friend, Herbert) take an airship trip, during which there is an accident and Caroline is lost. Upon his return to the Floating City, Anderson must face legal proceedings and questions – there are suspicions that he did not do all he could to ensure Caroline’s safety, particularly in light of her sizeable estate. Herbert does what he can to help Anderson move forward, which includes taking him to meet an eccentric pair of scientists who synthesize a hallucinogenic drug from a certain breed of frog. During the trip, Anderson meets Simone, who becomes the love of his life. However, all is not as it seems and before long, Anderson loses everything and learns that those he thought he knew had much darker motives than he could ever imagine.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Black Bed Sheet Books
• Release date: Sep 14, 2016

AR Neal

Andree Robinson-Neal, who writes under the name AR Neal, is a talented entrepreneur, writer, editor, and educator. A New Jersey native, she now lives in Southern California, where she works online, using her doctorate in education and technical certifications to teach master's and doctoral students. She maintains a blog, where she focuses on sharing her writing progress and offering flash fiction (http://starvingactivist.com), and she's an enthusiastic Thomas Dolby fan. Life in the Floating City, from Black Bed Sheet Books, is her second published novel, following her prior acclaimed work, After.

Book preview

Chapter 1

There’s Nothing New Under the Sun

Humankind escaped from the husk of Earth, determined to recreate itself throughout the universe. The worlds the explorers discovered were foreign and there was panic: certain factions wanted to develop a new way of life while others wanted to stick with the familiar. In the end, paperwork shuffles, heated council meetings, and diplomatic deep-freeze resulted in outposts on Ganymede, Sedna, Eris, and beyond that were reminiscent of the places where those first settlers had lived their childhoods. Or at least as they had remembered them to be.

The floating city grew like a germ: at first just a worm of an idea, it began as little more than an installation on the far edge of M104 where transports, armored airships, and leisure vehicles of all sizes stopped for provisions and refueling.

Its location near a yellow dwarf was the impetus to its development from a single large city on the edge of one large empty continent -- a place where weary travelers found rest -- to a collection of hamlets, downtowns, and suburbs spread across the entire 600 square miles. Some called it home and others satiated their various tastes for desert, forest, or plain before turning out to the darkness between the stars.

Over the course of three centuries, the floating city became home to eight million citizens with all the births, deaths, loves, lives, and experiences inherent to the continuation of people throughout the universe. Terraforming provided deserts, mountains, and other Earth-like topography, while the people created the cities, settlements, bars, shopping malls, and more.

Had any of Earth’s original inhabitants been around, they would have recognized many of the names given to those cities, settlements, and shops that survived the test of time: Brooklyn Point, Boston Forest, New Reno, Bay Jing.

No matter where the sun, there’s nothing new under it.

Chapter 2

A Jealous Thing Called Love

Anderson Brown sucked in a harsh breath and looked over the top of his glass at Herbert Collins, his life-long friend and co-conspirator.

I’m sorry, Brown, Herbert said. He speared a dumpling, dipped it in his congee porridge, and waited for Anderson to respond to the news.

How did this happen, Collins? I mean you and me -- we’ve been buddies for years, since grade school I think. How could you do this to me? Anderson sipped the grain alcohol and grimaced. What do you mean, bringing me to our favorite dim sum bar to tell me you’ve been sleeping with my wife?

Herbert held up his hands. Now, wait a sec, Brown. Since law school, the two had taken to calling each other by their last names and even the harshness of the current situation could not break tradition. I first told you about two years ago that her eyes were roving and that you better watch out.

Anderson reached with his bare hands into one of the baskets that sat between them on the table and pulled back one har gow and a shaomai dumpling. Sorry -- I’m trembling too much to use the chopsticks. He opened his mouth to bite the har gow and instead said, Yes, you warned me that I might lose her but you never suggested it would be to you.

Herbert lowered his eyes. Listen. He stopped to swallow a last bite of a steamed meatball before continuing. All those nights you were out wandering, riding the trains to the riverfront, she got lonely. Caroline leaned on me because I’m your best friend, and she figured I would know what in the world was going on with you. What do you do out there anyway?

Anderson shrugged. It’s not like I go all the time. I take a trip out to Brooklyn Point on full moon nights. I ride the train to the water. I walk the pier, watch the fish, and talk to the fishermen. He paused. You and Caroline have gone out there as well, haven’t you?

With a roll of his eyes, Herbert replied, I already told you that we had. Why ask?

I was just remembering -- one time when you called me, I thought I heard the water and a train whistle in the background. There’s a wired phone at one spot along the wharf that has a great view of the sea. Anderson frowned and asked, Does she know that you’re here, telling me all this?

Herbert shook his head.

How could you though? Anderson asked. I would have given her anything in the universe she asked for. He sighed. She was a pretty thing -- what was I thinking, falling for her?

Herbert waved off the questions. Yeah, but you might as well be back on Mars for the little bit of time you spend with her.

He gave Anderson an egg tart, picked up a sweet cream bun, and lightly bumped his hand against Anderson’s in a mock toast. Well, none of it matters now, right? It’s not like you’re a romantic, one of those fellows who falls for that jealous thing called love. He thought back to the years Anderson had spent courting Caroline and recalled it had seemed that his friend had been more enamored by Caroline’s purse than by anything else.

Herbert waggled his eyebrows. You told me that your heart was trembling when you asked her to go with you on that make-up, lover’s cruise and that you were pleased when she agreed. He shoved the whole bun in his mouth and chewed.

Anderson put the tart on his napkin and picked up his drink. Don’t worry Collins. I will continue to raise my glass to you, my friend. All is not lost. He motioned to the food on the table. I’ll look forward to our dinners when Caroline and I get back. Things will go on as they always have, I’m sure. You may still call me while I go for my evening wanderings on the train but just don’t do it if she’s with you.

Herbert shook his head and lifted his own glass. The men each took a sip and grimaced in unison. Enjoy your trip, Brown. And the same to you -- don’t call me while you’re on that ship together.

Chapter 3

The Lifeboats

Anderson blinked at the sun’s reflection that winked off the side of the towering airship called the Britannic. It was a perfect day to leave port.

Are you sure it’s safe to sail, Andy? Caroline was nervous and gripped Anderson’s arm tightly as they walked up the gangplank and onto the luxury airship.

He swallowed, hoping to hide the ugly expression that threatened to come to his face. The way she called him ‘Andy’ made him sick. Anderson patted her hand gently and replied, Of course it’s safe to sail, dear. Look at that sky -- a perfect azure blue! He motioned to the small clouds high above their heads. The slight breeze ruffled his collar and his wife squeezed closer to his side.

He continued, These airships are designed to withstand every harsh condition you can imagine.

Do you think we’ll encounter any storms? Caroline asked with alarm.

He steered her through the ship’s entryway. They were surrounded by families and other couples on holiday. Everyone they saw was wide-eyed, taking in the enormity of the cruiser. They passed a mural that portrayed similar airships flying past Saturn, Neptune, and out into the Kuiper Belt.

He quoted from the pre-boarding newsreel. "Why, the early explorers rode airships very similar to this from the original solar system to other side of the Virgo Supercluster and then all the way out here. Even if we encounter a solar storm or somesuch, we’re sure to withstand it comfortably.

Don’t worry, Caroline. It won’t be very long before we’ve found the dancehall or casino. You’ll be having too much fun to think about anything else.

She inhaled through her nose and pressed her thin lips together tightly. He noticed the crow’s feet at the corner of her left eye and felt a touch of revulsion. What is it, Andy? She asked, having caught his expression. You look like you swallowed a lemon.

Nothing, dear, he replied sweetly. Look there, he said, seeing an opportunity to change the subject. He pointed to a security sign. You see? There’s no need to worry at all. I’d wager there are signs like that all over the ship.

She squinted at the faded paper behind glass. What does it mean?

Anderson suddenly realized how daft she could be. Just like I told Collins, she was such a pretty thing. Now that I think about it, she hasn’t got a bit of sense in that head. But all that lovely money -- if I could get it all to myself, I’d happily let him have her, he thought as he answered. Those are the safety directions. The arrow points us to the closest lifeboats. That way, if something goes wrong, you’ll know which way to go to get to one.

I’d rather not consider it, Andy, she answered. Let’s check in and go to our cabin.

They walked on toward the registration desk and took a spot in the quickly moving queue. When it was their turn, Anderson stepped up to the desk and addressed the clerk. Good afternoon. Registration for Brown, Mister and Missus. We have an outside suite reserved.

He leaned in so Caroline, the woman with the mane of incredibly thick, red hair being helped by a second clerk, and the other guests nearby could not hear. I spoke to the girl again yesterday to find out if there was something available near the bridge and she said I’d need to speak to whoever checked us in. He slid the envelope with their tickets, along with five £100 notes, across the desk.

The clerk picked up the envelope and after seeing the crisp bills, pulled the tickets out and tucked the envelope into his pants pocket. Yes, Mister Brown. Let me get you checked in. He flipped to the B section of a large book. Ah, here you are. He crossed through the line that read inside, lower berth and wrote in outside, bridge level.

He called to the baggage handler who stood panting alongside the carriage that held the Brown’s ample traveling cases. Here, boy! Take these good people to their cabin at once. He gave the handler a key marked with a large gold number 3.

As the boy began to push the carriage, the clerk motioned to Anderson. Mr. Brown, please follow him to your cabin and enjoy your trip!

***

Having secured a first-class cabin made it easy for Anderson to hob-nob with the upper crust of society. His part-time position as a council member in Clarkdale Station afforded him certain connections but he rarely rubbed elbows with the class of people he could encounter in the smoking lounge or the high-roller casino on the bridge level of the Britannic.

After launch, Caroline had taken to her bed, first citing indigestion and then nausea. She insisted the first afternoon that they take tea in their room instead of with the others.

Andy, dear, I do hate to see you cooped up here. Didn’t you say there was a casino on this deck? Caroline asked as she reclined on the settee.

Yes. Anderson replied. He hoped his one-word answers to her attempts at conversation were working.

She turned away from him, reached into her bosom, and removed a small purse. Here, she said as she turned back around and handed him two £50 notes. Go have some fun for the both of us.

He took the cash and smiled. Are you sure, dear?

Caroline nodded and lay back.

Very well. If you don’t feel any better in a little while, go on and get in bed.

Before she could reply, he was out the door. There was no one in the casino as it was still teatime and as he wandered toward the bridge, he found the solarium. The casino forgotten, he was drawn by the nearly 300-degree view of the galaxy and sat by the window to watch the floating city dwindle as they flew further into the darkness.

It was on the second evening of Caroline’s convalescence that Anderson had a chance encounter. He was alone in the solarium and had gotten comfortable on the couch near the window with a full sherry glass, when a voice called to him from the doorway. Say there, excuse me?

Anderson turned and his senses were immediately assaulted by the twinkling of lights reflecting off an array of medals suspended from brightly colored ribbons pinned in neat rows to the left breast of the speaker’s tunic. With a blink he rose from his seat and replied, "Yes, sir. What can