Our Fragile Environment
An exploration into both “cli-fi” and personal encounters with nature.
This article looks at two pieces of different styles based on the central theme of “Our Fragile Environment.”
Downfall
Jess tramped down the alloyed metal ramp. Her chipped shoes locked onto the patterns implanted on the floor. It was getting harder to catch her breath and her eyes were tinged with red. Vision started to fade. Yet movement was constant. Adrenaline, it was adrenaline that kept 22-year-old Jess moving. Enough for her to reach the edge of the skyscraper and leap off. Turning around on her last step, limbs flailing, Jess caught a glimpse of who was chasing her. Of what was chasing her.
400 meters to the ground,
126 stories to go.
But before she could fathom what had happened, gravity introduced itself. A sinking feeling could be felt in her stomach and the wind soon began to brush against her skin. Jess’ long jet-black hair thrashed against her face, stinging her in the cold atmosphere. The sky was tinted with a dark navy-blue hue, yet the darker grey clouds were visible to someone as close to them as Jess was. It was an ever-expanding blanket of darkness. As she perforated into puffs of water vapor, her skin chilled and she felt her arm hairs stand up. Goosebumps wrapped around her forearms. For some reason, it excited her. Driving back into a metropolis. Falling, dodging, and weaving in between severely high monorail trails and glass bridges connecting one building to another.
100 meters to the ground
The blur of vehicular taillights below merged into a jagged stream of pinkish-red light. Roads crossed and intersected each other in neat and uneven arrays. With each second, the line turned into more distinct dots, and the orchestrated symphony of thrumming electrical engines and socializing voices increased in volume. Eventually, the scent of late-night takeaway restaurants fused with the smoke originating from the chimneys of gourmet restaurants wafted through the 26-year-old’s nose. Just before the lines in the pavement etched themselves into her vision, Jess clicked a button on her phone and two whirlwinds of air blasted from her Jordans. Her body recoiled at the sudden alteration of direction, but hey — it was better than landing directly on cement.
Touchdown
The city she had once visited a bit under 2 decades ago back in 2062, had changed drastically. Steel structures patterned with aqua-stained glass were now obstructed by neon lights and billboards showing newly modified equipment for biological human modification. That’s right, technology such as her air-boosted shoes could now be inserted into one’s body. If the mechanical portion of one’s body had been updated to the latest software. But Jess wasn’t about that life. She preferred the stories of old. What her grandfather had mentioned about how nature used to be real and independent of human care, humans themselves were fully biological and cars, oh man the cars, whilst they used non-renewable resources. Boy were they a sight for sore eyes. Compared to the plane white Teslas that roamed the roads today, those old cars seemed like the stuff of myths.
Walking through the streets was something she had forgotten all about. Small droplets of rain began spitting down. They provided a sense of texture to Jess’ glasses. As the globules of water sparked on the ground, she looked up at the numerous numbers of cell towers. It was these heaven-scraping structures that boasted high-pressure, large proximity sprinklers in which they would activate to emulate sometimes call liquid precipitation. A pathetic attempt, Jess thought. Whilst, rain did indeed exist, it was toxic. Acid rain. If the people of the city wanted rain, let them see what the repercussions are. Allow the public to realize just how damaged Earth has become — a planet one cannot even identify as living anymore. It’s just a synthetic situation in a synthetic habitat.
She turned around the corner and entered the small café that her father had taken her to once before.
“This place has the best cheesecake you’ll ever taste!” his exclamation rang in her ears and flashed in her memories of 16 years ago.
He sat down at one of the leather couches that rested adjacent to the window. The glass looked out towards a set of convenience stores and hotel check-in rooms. If you tried to look up, the stripped letters that made up the name café blocked your vision: “Porta Vitae.” Latin for the gate of life. Jess had always wondered why it was Latin. One of the earliest languages to be spoken and to die out.
As the twenty-two-year-old continued to ponder on pointless thoughts, a waitress came over and asked what she would like.
“I’ll take a strawberry cheesecake, and may I use the restroom?” asked Jess.
“I’m sorry but it is currently closed for renovations” the pink-haired, bubbly servitor replied with a smile strapped to her face. Sarcastic and patronizing, she thought.
“*Ahem* Inexplicablis cogiato, inevitabillis finis [latin: an inexplicable thought, an inevitable end]”
There was no change in her physical expression. But her eyes said it all. From shimmering with hospitality to seriousness.
“Right this way Ms. CEO,” she welcomed.
Botanical Bouts
Rain sprinkled down on us from the heavenly canvas splotched with grey blobs. White shirts turned ever so darker as the water soaked through seams of fabric. Each droplet that tapped my shoulder could be explicitly heard. With our bags lying on the wet emerald grass, venturing further into the gardens was the obvious option. But did we do it? Of course not. Right there and then, Ishaan and Ravindu decided to have a go at each other and see who would be able to drop each other in a fight. However, as the rain grew lighter, they decided to settle their battle later and somewhat focus on the task at hand. So, off we trampled off the tarmac into the jungle of flora known as the Botanical Garden.
The first site we visited was Guifoyle’s Volcano. Whilst it was, to my disappointment, not a proper volcano, the nature that it engulfed within its crater was a marvel to witness. Plants of ranging pigments, from pink to splashes of blue, protruded from the swampy fluid reaching for the sky. Other flora were comfortably peeping their buds out of the water. Just as wondrous were the plants that inhabited the soil around the sides of the. Bulbs of cacti pierced the air in clusters. Trees that once loomed over the pathway, didn’t seem as big from up on the volcano. Curtains of fog covered much of the horizon and the light rain that caressed the flesh of our faces and dampened our bags was not helping. From the top of the volcano, not even the largest buildings of the city could be perceived. But as we chatted, productively planning on what to do next (definitely) we strolled down the shallow incline of the volcano, back to the land of normal altitude. The volcano had set us up for great expectations. So, we prepared to venture onwards into the domain of the botanical garden.
It felt so open yet so compact. With each step, I knew I was gaining distance, yet the peculiar tree that stood fifty meters dominated my view and looked like a stranger from afar. Droplets from dewy-, no drenched, blades of grass began to intrude into the soles of my leathered school shoes. My socks were now disturbingly damp. It was an uncomfortable feeling, however the relaxing aura that mother nature emitted contrasted against the wet sensation. I found the whole journey to be an enthralling one, filled to the brim with contrast. Where beautiful trees were rooted strongly, the dull background of gloomy weather reduced their visual impact. It was this notion that allowed me to focus on more of the minute world within the tan.
And that is exactly when I noticed it. I stunningly pale pink plant with a bold green stem. Curving at about two feet high it stretched over the grass. Now, due to its insignificant size; no sign had a label for it. This intrigued me as it was one of the few pink colours that were embedded amongst the rest of the emerald botanical foliage. But, thanks to a random plant app I downloaded on my phone. I was able to identify its name: orpine.
***Quick Intermission — Fun Fact: I once saw a person use orpine (at least I hope it was an orpine) to make inflamed skin less, well for lack of a better word, inflamed. ***
Even though it was small, the rarity of its colour and shape made me feel insignificant to it. A way in which such a tiny element of flora, could stand out so much. To add to this flora, stood an even more microscopic aspect of fauna. A tiny bee, inspecting the brightened leaves to look for, just guessing here, some pollen to harvest.
It just goes to show, that no matter the conditions, even with Ishaan, and Ravindu going at each other, how nature has a way of intertwining different features of itself with one another.
