Gears

This next short story is one I did based on an idea by a friend of mine. He had an idea and I thought it had potential so I made a short story based on it. This friend is SPrice, down below in the list of blogs I follow.

“The Gears are turning”

These words haunted his dreams every night, yet his life was relatively normal. He got up, went to school, spent time with his friends, spent time with his family. The years went by, until he got up, went to work, spent time with his work friends, and came home to his empty house. Not much had changed. But the words still haunted his sleep.

“The Gears”

He knew about Gears; everyone did. They were one of the most important standing stones of society. Without a good gear no device would work. You had to have a quality gear to keep the rest of the cogs turning. He had a standard gear in his television, in his heater, his oven, in pretty much any and every piece of technology he owned. Nothing too fancy; just a standard, slightly overpriced long-lasting gear.

His job paid well. He worked for a blacksmithing and mining firm, and they always paid well. Metal was needed for gears, for most anything, so those who owned the metal could make a lot of money. The only job that could rival the pay of a miner or a blacksmith was someone who worked for an oil company. Oil was needed as fuel for technology. It was needed to keep the gears turning.

That night, after a few drinks down the local pub with his friends, Jack had a dream about a long ago time that he’d almost forgotten about. The time where he’d heard those words… “The Gears are turning” shouted so enthusiastically.

A man had wondered into their village, shouting and sputtering nonsense. He’d had some sort of weapon that had scared everyone. Jack had seen him from his window, and heard him shouting about “The Gears!”. Finally it had been Jack’s own dad who had confronted the man, disarmed him, and removed the gear from the man’s weapon. The local authorities had taken the crazy man in for questioning but found no answers. They finally got an official from the capital city Tartiprocia to come and collect the man to take him to their prison.

                Jack unconsciously grabbed the gear that hung around his neck; the same gear that his father had once disarmed from that crazy man. Perhaps it was that fitful sleep that stopped him being woken by the rumbling and shaking that assaulted his house during the night; as if an earthquake had struck. Also the amount he’d drank the night before at the local pub likely helped.

                He awoke to the headache he was accustomed to. He got dressed in his long coat and heavy boots, thinking to take a walk around before his work shift started at midday. He couldn’t shake a certain sense of foreboding, however... and when he opened his front door, he realised why.

                The village had vanished. Or he had vanished. Whichever was the case, what greeted his eyes wasn’t the usual sight of his familiar road, but a roaringly busy cityscape. Rubble littered the ground, and as he looked up and down the street he saw that several buildings had collapsed. He closed the door.

                Alright... calm down...calm down...

“Where the hell am I?” he said out loud, shaking his head in confusion. He took a few minutes pacing around, trying to make sense of things, but it didn’t lead him anywhere. Then came a knock at the door. He stopped, looking at the door in accusation as if it had purposefully interrupted his thoughts. He slowly and cautiously opened the door. Standing there were three officers.

                “Good evening sir” the one said politely; a big one, Jack noted. He was very tall, as well as very wide. He posed an intimidating sight, yet he looked to be rather friendly, while the other two looked significantly less patient. “As you’ve no doubt noticed, your house appears to have landed in our city. Do you mind if we come in and ask a few questions?”

                Thank the gods. Perhaps they can help explain things. “Certainly, come right in” Jack responded in a friendly tone, leading them into his living room, unable to shake a feeling of unease.

                “So, as you are no doubt aware, your house has… moved. Do you know anything about this?” the lead officer asked.

                “Unfortunately not. I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on things. When I woke up this morning here I was”

                The officers, unsurprisingly, exchanged a glance with each other before proceeding with their questions. “Tell me, Mister......?” came the cliché asking of Jack’s name. He wasn’t quite sure what was going through his head at the time, but Jack didn’t trust these men.

                “You can just call me John” he answered. Sorry John he silently apologised to his friend.

                “Tell me John, do you know anything about... gears?”

                “Of course. They’re how we’ve advanced so far technologically. Everything is made with gears. But what would that have to do with this?” as he said this he hand instinctively went up to touch the necklace he wore.

                “Do you have something under your coat there?” asked the female official, who had remained silent so far.

                Jack’s eyes went wide as he realised they may have thought he had a gun. He slowly unzipped his coat. “No no, it’s nothing dangerous. Just a lucky necklace” he said, pulling the gear out from under his shirt to show them.

                They all exchanged a look that worried Jack.

                “Do you mind if we take a closer look at that?” she asked, moving forwards. When Jack looked around he realised that the big man no longer looked friendly. Jack took a step back.

                “I’d rather not. It’s very personal to me”. It was the last memento of his father, after all. The large man stepped forward.

                “I’d rather do this the easy way” the man said.

                Jack bolted for the kitchen, slamming his way through the door, hurting his shoulder in the process. He heard them scramble after him. He rushed for the window, but a vague sense of caution stopped him from jumping through the glass; not wanting to break it. Then a gunshot made his heart skip a beat. They have guns!? Another shot sounded through the air, going through the door to hit the window. The glass cracked completely. Oh no. He knew he only had one option left as the door was pushed open with so much force the sound echoed throughout the entire house as loud as the gunshot had. As the big man stepped through Jack shook his head, and with a swallow intended to push down his nerves that only ended up getting stuck in his dry throat, he put a foot up on the windowsill and jumped through the window, shielding his face as he crashed through to land on the hard ground outside.

                As he looked around to find somewhere to run he realised he was surrounded by further debris; wherever his house had landed had seemed to have a previous occupant. Some walls still stood; barely. Using this opportunity he ran as fast as he could, zigzagging through the maze of broken homes until he emerged in the street behind. There were people going up and down the streets but they appeared to be investigating similar sights of interest. Jack heard the sounds of the officials following him and ran on, finding some alleys to run down.

                Dread rose within him as he heard shouts and loud slamming sounds coming from above him. As he looked up he saw the silhouette of a man jumping from roof to roof. The silhouette then jumped down, grabbing onto one wall and bouncing off onto the opposite one to slow his downfall. He continued this until he landed gracefully onto the ground. It was the large man from earlier.

                “How?” was all Jack could ask, amazed at the man’s athleticism.

                The man looked at him quizzically. “You fool” he said amusedly. “You can’t outrun a Spinner. Surely everyone knows that?” As he said this a strange buzzing sound filled the air, and his shirt seemed to contort weirdly. Before Jack’s eyes the man’s shirt was suddenly shredded to pieces. Beneath it, covering the man’s chest, were spinning gears, gleaming menacingly in the morning light.

                What the hell is he? Jack wondered, shaking his head in hopelessness, slowly backing away. The man walked towards him. Then, suddenly, he was right in front of him. Jack jumped back in fear, tripping and falling to the ground. He grabbed the gear from around his neck, ripping it from the string it hung on, and thrust it forward. “Is this what you want? Why? What’s so special about this!?” he shouted in panic, angry that fate had chosen him to go through this. He’d been happy in his normal life, why was this gear that his father gave him so important? It was very likely that he would now die.

                The man looked down at him and reached for the gear. He stopped short, however, and looked at Jack with confusion. Actually, ‘towards’ would be a more accurate word. Jack realised that the man wasn’t looking at him, just at the general area where he was, as if he couldn’t see him. Jack slowly stood up. The man looked around in confusion.

                A warm sensation brought his attention to his hand; to the gear within it. It was emitting heat. Jack looked closely at it. He was taken aback completely when he realised there were movements across the surface of the gear. As he looked closer he realised what he was seeing were incredibly small gears that covered the surface of the larger gear he held in his hand. They had started turning; otherwise Jack probably would never have noticed them. Whatever had happened, it seemed the big man could no longer see him. Has this gear... caused me to become invisible? Impossible.... Yet the evidence was there before him. He decided to flee while he could and ran from the back alley, glancing back to see the so-called ‘Spinner’ looking around blindly, unable to find his victim.

                He ran as far as he could, but eventually he had to stop and rest; his lungs burning in agony from the exertion, and his throat dry with thirst. He was even starting to feel hungry.

                “What the hell is going on?” He asked out loud amidst gasps of breath. There were people walking the streets, going about their normal lives, but it seemed they could neither see nor hear Jack. Probably for the best he figured, considering people were after him. All for this... He looked once again at the Gear, looking at it in wonder. He needed answers. But who would have them? And how would he find them?

                He walked around the streets to gather information; picking up some food and drink from a local shop while he was at it. He couldn’t seem to turn the Gear off, so he left some money on the counter and took what he needed, feeling slightly bad about it, but at least he’d paid for it. From the signs about and from picking up little bits of conversation from the civilians walking the streets he found out that he was in the city of Tartiprocia, the capital city near his home village. The topic of houses having suddenly appeared in the city was hot gossip, it seemed. Jack felt the urge to go investigate the others, to see if anyone else from his village had also become stranded in this city, but he decided against it. He needed answers, and he had an inkling of where to get them.

                The Asylum.

The Gear had come from the madman who had come to Jack’s village a long time ago. The men who were after Jack were after the Gear, so it seemed like a good idea to find the man who had held it before him. That man had been taken to the Tartiprocia Mental Asylum.

                It took him more than a few hours to find the place without being able to ask around for help. He had to stop for a while to rest his legs on a local bench, then swiftly jump out the way as someone tried to sit on him. Finally, however, he found his way there.

                The building before him looked like any average hospital; except for the barred fencing surrounding the place, giving the impression of a prison.

                He walked past the guards at the entrance; so afraid that the Gear would suddenly stop working that when the one guard turned he jolted forwards, sure that the man had heard his heartbeat hammering against his chest. He hadn’t though, he had just moved to exchange words with the other guard; some witty remark about how dull their job was. Jack calmed down and moved on.

                Once he was inside the building he easily followed some staff around until he found their main office. He even bumped into one lady, and almost had a heart attack thinking he’d been found out. Instead, however, she looked around and, seeing no one, walked off at a fast pace in fear, probably thinking she’d bumped into a ghost of some sort. Jack almost laughed, until he remembered where he was. He read various documents littered around the tables until he found the set of drawers that he knew must contain the patient documents. He had to wait until the office was empty, however, because he could pull open the drawers and look through them.

                He had to stop and start several times as people came in and out of the room. Eventually, however, he found what he was looking for. He was glad that these pages had pictures on them; he could never forget that crazy, wild-eyed face.

                No name... That was strange. There was no information about him other than recorded observations and interviews since he’d arrived. They hadn’t found out anything about him. But Jack now had a room number; that was all he wanted.

                As he made his way around the facility to the right room he was pleased to see that the locks were on the outside of the doors. There also weren’t too many people wondering the halls. Finally he found himself at room number 47. He looked through the window first, to see what sight would greet him, but he found that he couldn’t see anyone in there. He could see a bed and a table with empty plates and cups upon them; but nothing else. He carefully and quietly opened the door and stepped in, closing it behind him. He looked around but there was no one in the room except him.

                Perhaps they’ve taken him somewhere for an interview, or something medical he reasoned. He sat down on the bed and waited.

                Some time later he heard noises from under the bed, and panicked as a man came crawling out from under it. Jack quickly jumped off the bed and retreated to the corner of the room. As the man stood up Jack knew it was him. He looked the same crazy man; except his hair had become more grey, longer, and his facial hair had grown out. If anything he looked more crazy.

               

                Jack was about to approach him when he heard a sound at the door and stopped in his tracks. The door opened and a man wearing a doctor’s clothes walked in with food and drink; which he placed upon the table. He gave the crazy old man a look, but otherwise said nothing. He took the empty plates and left.

                Jack breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the old man.

“Do you remember me?” he asked.

The man made no reply. Of course. No one can hear me. He looked down at the Gear in his hand. How do I turn this off? Then the man suddenly moved back to his bed, crawling under it again. Jack frowned in confusion, then followed. As he lifted up the sheets covering the underside of the bed he could find nothing. The man was no longer there. What the hell is going on? He crawled under the bed to find out. Then, suddenly, as he put his hand down on the floor to pull himself forwards, the floor wasn’t there, and he was falling down some hole. He exclaimed rudely out loud as he fell roughly on his face into this tunnel that must’ve been dug by the crazy old man. He recollected himself and felt about. The tunnel turned downwards steeply, and the man wasn’t about. He decided to go down the tunnel to find him.

As he went further down the tunnel his eyes became used to the dark and he could see about himself. That was when he realised the Gear was emitting a glow. Was it always glowing? He wondered.

                Finally he heard a scratching sound coming from ahead of him, and as he neared he saw the old man scratching at the ground beneath him with a spoon, trying to dig his way... down? How long has he been doing this? He wondered, amazed. The man looked up.

                “Who’s there?” he shouted, turning around in panic and looking at Jack. “You’re not a guard are you?” he asked, scratching at the walls around him in terror.

                “You can see me?” Jack asked. The man didn’t get a chance to respond, however, as Jack’s Gear suddenly glowed brighter, and started vibrating faster, so much that it hurt Jack’s hand. He dropped it, and it rolled down until it hit the spot where the old man had been scratching away at the ground.

                Both Jack and the old man shouted out in surprise then as the ground seemed to.... come apart around them. It just seemed to retract into the walls as the Gear touched it. Before they knew it they were both falling down.

                Jack had no idea how far they fell. He felt as if they should have fell out the other side of the earth by the time they came to a stop. Something seemed to catch them and gently place them on the floor.

                As he got to his feet he immediately looked up. The ceiling was melding back together, blocking off the way they came. As he peered up at the strange sight he noticed that it looked like.... gears turning and twisting back into place. That was when he looked down to survey his surroundings; and the sight astounded him.

                The area was illuminated as far as he could see in all directions. The light seemed to be coming from below them. They were standing on a metallic platform, and light seemed to shine upwards around the edges. That wasn’t the strangest part, however. As far as the eye could see something rose up from the depths, attached to each other and the ceiling above them: Gears.

                “What the hell is going on?” he asked, turning in circles, getting more confused by the second. In his confusion he had dropped the Gear, and the old man was touching it and whispering to it was if he was reunited with his lost child.

                “You wish to know what’s going on?” came a voice. Jack whirled towards the source, but found no one there.

                “Who’s there?” he asked, looking around desperately.

                Then, suddenly, someone just appeared there, as if she’d been standing there all along. She had an amused smile on her face, coupled with a strange look that made Jack feel as if she was looking down on him.

                “You must be from the surface” she said. “How did you get here?”

                As Jack looked at her he noticed she carried many different sorts of small guns around her waist, as well as various shaped daggers. Her hair was cut short, and her clothes looked like they were made out of a type of thick leather. She looked like someone ready for battle; someone Jack didn’t particularly want to mess with.

               

                “I have no idea” he said, sighing in hopelessness.

                She also sighed, but impatiently. “Just tell me what you know” she said, a hint of anger creeping into her voice.

                Jack looked around warily, but couldn’t see anything other than her to be cautious of. Then, turning back to her, he told her his story. When he was done she was nodding in understanding, as if it all made sense. “Well, that makes sense” she even said, with a happy shrug.

                “How? How the hell does it make sense?” Jack asked in bewilderment.

                The lady sighed.

                “Well, you’re already deep into this I guess” she said, walking closer towards them. She crouched down next to the old man to look at the gear, tearing it from his grasp for a closer inspection; despite his cries of protest. After she’d inspected it she gave it back, likely just to shut the crazy fool up.

                “So I’ll start with the most important fact; one that, from the expression on your face, you obviously didn’t know. Gears make the world. They are what makes the world turn, change, and altogether work.”

                Jack wore an expression of horror, confusion, and disbelief all rolled into one. The woman gave a dark chuckle and carried on with her explanation.

                “That’s where your little Gear here comes in. This Gear is one of the many Gears that make up the world. It belongs down here; a part of the system of cogs. It’s not a man-made Gear. It’s not intended for our human devices. And that’s why you may have found it has unusual powers.”

                “This is way too much… I just work for a mining company…” Jack said, more to himself than anyone, shaking his head sadly.

                “Yes, well, these things happen” she said dismissively. “Anyway, those people who were after you? They were most likely part of the Konaeix Organisation.” Noticing Jack’s blank look, she explained further. “Have you ever heard of Kona?”

                “Of course. They’re a massive technological company. They create and distribute… well… everything”

                “Their full name is Konaeix. They have ties in the government, and they can pretty much do what they like. Their aim is to get their hands on the Gears that make up the world, so that they can control it and do whatever they like. If they had control of the world they could do anything; even moving mountains and rivers. They could completely rebuild the world, destroying cities and villages in the process”

                Suddenly Jack remembered his own village, that had somehow appeared in Tartiprocia. Was this the work of these ‘Konaeix’ people?

                “What am I meant to do now?” he asked helplessly.

                “Guess there’s only one thing for it” she replied nonchalantly. “You’re going to have to come with me and meet the rest of our resistance. We’re here to stop them from achieving their twisted dreams.”

                Jack’s mind was still whirling. He didn’t feel like he had a choice, however. He couldn’t get back up to the surface, as far as he knew. He went over to the old man and raised him to his feet (he still had the Gear in his hands, staring at it and not paying attention to anything else).

                “Lead the way” he said sadly.

                She looked at him curiously, then gave a shrub and walked off, towards the edge of the platform. Jack followed her, then gasped in amazement as a platform rose up from the depths as the woman  approached it, forming a path for her. As he peered over the edge he saw that it was held up by Gears; like everything else, it seemed.

Jack had no idea where she was leading him to, nor what really was going on, despite her explanation. It seemed like he had just walked into some strange new world.