Short Story Sunday: The Red Line.
The Red Line.
The weirdest hotel I've ever stayed in was in Moscow, Russia. The entrance was sealed off and there were some weird looking Mafya guys hanging around with hi-visibility vests on to make sure people didn't come close. I noticed they were well away from the actual building and I noticed someone had painted a thick bright red line around the perimeter of the building and they were carefully avoiding being anywhere near it. I went in through what I think was once the workers entrance to find myself in a converted waiting room with what looked like a broken clock on one wall and a working clock on the other. Across the centre of the room separating us was another big red line.
Everyone here knew what the red line meant. You walked over it and you died. No-one was looking at it while we waited that quiet afternoon. The last shift was about to finish and we were going in. €100 cash and I would spend the next eight hours in there and come out an hour from now, refreshed and rested. Ready to start the day. I just had to wait for the bell and then we'd have a minute to walk across the room, past the line and inside.
I was assured there was a bed inside waiting for me and that nothing I owned would be stolen. The person assuring me of that was the same mafiya who took my money and seemed to have an overly familiar relationship with my boss back at work. I was convinced that this was a scam of some kind, but I needed to see for myself, and I needed to sleep. No matter what happened I needed to sleep.
I'd been awake at this stage for three straight days, working to get the latest product lines out to the market while trying to get my bosses to send me back home to Australia or east to Siberia, I was a manager in a mining export subsidiary in a previous life and had moved to Russia on the promise that I'd be running part of the logistics network for the company working out of Siberia. Instead I was in this crappy looking building, staring at a red line in the ground, hoping I wasn't about to get robbed by one of the dozen or so men in the room.
Occasionally this weird looking man would throw a ball across the red line and watched bemused as it come back before it hit the wall behind, misshapen and twisted he returned the throw I'm certain that he was determined to make it back into a sphere by aiming it just right.
I yearned for another cup of coffee and some caffeine pills but my body couldn't take any more uppers. I needed sleep and this was the only place I could get it.
This big beard with a man stuck behind it was sitting next to me and occasionally looked at me with the type of curiosity that I typically reserved for pet stores. Except I was the cat this time, not the idiot banging on the glass.
"First time no?" His voice was quieter than I thought it would be, not a whisper, but somehow direct and silent like a stab wound.
"You speak English?"
"Yes. I speak English, French, Deutsch, Spanish and Finnish, not Swedish. Working on Swedish."
It seemed a bit odd that he'd single out Sweden as his one area of ignorance but I wasn't even conversational in Russian yet at this stage in my career so I was suitably impressed by his talents. "I only have English and a little Russian. I've just moved here a few weeks ago."
"You come to Russia? Why?" He'd shifted in his seat a little to turn to face me, I began to notice his eyes darting around the room a lot.
"I work for a mining company. They wanted the rights to some areas out East, Siberia mostly and some of the Taiga areas, the East Siberian economic region just north of Mongolia."
"Ah, yes. I'd assume they wanted to set up in Krasnoyarsk? Lovely city if you ever get chance to visit."
"I was there about a week ago. The problem with the contract was that the land rights for the area belong to us but the mining rights belonged, god knows why, to this small electronics firm."
He gave me a conspiratorial smile. "Did this firm belong to local member of government?"
"No, it was his brothers firm. And we bought it off him last week for a lot of money."
"Welcome to Russia my friend. Everyone gets a bite of the sandwich."
A small hunched over man suddenly ran backwards past us to get to the toilet, never taking his eyes off the other end of the room, keeping a strong eye on the clock on this side of the line and the slowly spinning broken clock on the other.
"Should I go as well? He seems like he's nervous."
"I wouldn't, plumbing inside is good. Septic tank underground deals with most of it, fresh water tank on the roof can go through the line okay, refills every couple of days. No worries. Some people don't trust it."
"Why?"
"Once, it was blocked. Imagine eight hours stuck in a house like that. Someone flushed something they shouldn't have. Problem fixed now."
"How?"
"Person who flushed? No longer has ear. Lesson learn."
"Jesus."
"So don't flush anything you shouldn't. Rules are on the walls, in English, Russian and Chinese."
I was only just beginning to realise how much danger I could be in when the five minute warning light started to flash. Despite wanting to sleep I managed to stay focused for the moment on the conversation at hand. I noticed my new friend had a few bags with him, I had a satchel with some sheets in it in case the beds inside were more like a Russian Youth Hostel than a German Youth Hostel.
"Nearly there. My name is Tibor by the way. I've done this a lot of times. You'll be find. I make sure of it."
"Thanks Tibor, my name is Jack, I'm currently managing an electronics firm out in the Cheryomushki District."
"Ya, you were saying. But you are in mining?"
"Yes. The mining licenses are in the firms name and can't be transferred for two years and if the firm goes bankrupt or ceases production the licenses go back to the state. And Gazprom or someone else will likely gobble them up before we can even put a bid on them. So I was told to go to Moscow and make sure the firm stays running for the next two years until we can shut it all down or sell it to someone."
"Sounds like difficult job."
"Its horrible. The place was a wreck when I showed up, they've basically stripped the assets off just before we bought it and I've got about thirty staff and a huge order of BluRay players and some other stuff coming in which we need to sell to distributors. We don't even have trucks right now, I've had to rent them all out from people around the city until we can get our own."
"I see why you come here then."
"Yeah, we're only a little distance away from here and I was told by a contact about this place. Where I could get some sleep and maybe catch up on some work without having to worry about the time. I've got six days to do about a months amount of work right now. So I figured I'd give it a shot. The worst that can happen is I lose eight hours of my life sleeping and am out €100. And then my bosses boss burns me alive for losing the licenses."
"How much have they spent."
I remembered my lessons on corporate espionage at this point, wondering if he was some kind of spy. A Russian energy or mining company trying to get intel from us? Nothing I knew wasn't public knowledge anyway and I was sleep deprived so I swept it aside for the time. "A lot of money. A LOT of money. And if this firm fails then it has all been wasted. We're practically giving the damn merchandise away right now to stay afloat. It would be cheaper to just have the staff form a football team and pay their wages to tour the country in a bus losing to local teams. But my bosses think this could be a profitable subsidiary one day, so after we're done with fixing it up they're going to try and actually run it as a business."
"They, not you?"
"I'm just a warm body in a suit they can blame it all on if it fails. And I'm working through three interpreters most of the day to just get the most basic things done. And I don't have time for anything else."
"No-one has time for anything in Moscow my friend. It is why this place exists."
I looked at the red line again, starting to get impatient for the countdown.
My new friend Tibor pulled out a bottle of coke to drink while we waited, I'd eaten already down the road, some Kebab and chips. I had some instant noodles in my satchel to use with the hot water I was assured would be available and a small folder with some documents I had to go over either inside or on the train back. I could start to see blurs on the other side of the line. It was likely half an hour before they'd be able to cross over to us. My understanding was that there was a five minute window. They would exit first, then we'd enter as quickly as possible leaving about minute for anything important to go through.
"If time wasn't so valuable the freak in the building would be a poor man. Instead he is richer than all of us."
"The freak?"
"The one who does this thing? Makes the building like it is. He lives inside, doesn't leave, just sits there all day and night reading his books and counting his money."
"Its a person? I thought it was a machine or something?"
"If it were a machine it wouldn't be stuck in Russia, it would be everywhere. No, it is person. Just one man who can do this."
"Have you ever met him?"
"I have, you might, he talk to the regulars a lot. There are people in the building who never leave. Criminals, mathematicians, students, computer programmers, a doctor was inside for a while. Surgery was finished in record time and healed up in a days not weeks. Too expensive, too many questions asked. He had to leave. No hurt feelings. Hospital people come here a lot now, sleep between shifts. Work twenty days straight with only two hours break between days. No mistakes."
"So the freak is just some random guy?"
"Ya. He found out one day that he could slow down time. Talk about useless gift. He can't rob a bank by making it slower. Believe me, people have thought about how to do this. Can't be done. He turns it on and off. We go in, we get eight hours for every hour outside. We go out, rested, studied or whatever. Once a man brings a prostitute in. Paid for one hour and got eight. That... that never allowed again."
A darkness crossed his face at the memory of whatever happened that day. "So why are you going in?"
"You never ask that my friend. People here have reason. That is enough to know." The man from before came back from the toilets looking slightly wide-eyed. "See him? He is a drug user, he hides it from family by coming in here. Gets high before and rides it out in his lunch break." He pointed to a young looking guy with a ponytail. "Him, he's a musician, he is only allowed to play music in basement, away from dormitories, he writing an album inside the red line with that guy." A blond looking kid with facial tattoos who was, I only just noticed, glaring at me. "He's a poet and has three jobs and no time to sleep between them. He makes enough at one job to pay for this every day. Six hours of sleep and two of writing songs."
For someone who said you don't ask why people go in he certainly knew why most people were going in. I didn't want to point out he hypocrisy at this stage as my eyes were growing heavier and the words he was saying were starting to slip. "I'm only going inside because I need to sleep and I don't have the time. I can't go on like this every day, the company is more or less paying me to do this."
"You've the money and no time. Is common problem in world today. Most people here take a desk and work for their time, go home, be with families. Save some memories with children and wife."
"Why can't we just cross over whenever we want to?"
"What?"
"Why can't we just walk over the line. I was told about five times to never ever cross the line unless I was told it was okay."
"Your body would collapse. The front half would be going eight times faster than the back half. Everyone who tries. Dead. Mafya clean up bodies, charge extra to family. They painted Red line to warn people. Used to be just a doorway into the foyer, closed until time was up. You see idiot with the ball before? The ball came back different shape everytime. Imagine if that were your heart. He comes here every day, tries to get ball back to sphere. I see him do it once. Just once. His sister run through doorway early, came out otherside a puddle. He... broken after that."
"Jesus. You've been doing this a long time haven't you?"
"Ya. I go in a lot. I go in with books, I come out with languages. Translate for tourists, small money, good money."
"So you just study inside?"
"Ya. I sleep sometimes. But mostly just read and learn languages. People from around world come to Moscow, hear about building, cross the Red Line and want to talk to someone. I talk to them, show them around inside, books and people."
The clock on the other side of the red line suddenly stopped moving so fast and I realised that what I thought was a very slow second hand was actually a very fast minute hand. Blurs who were people were suddenly waling across the Red Line towards the green Выход sign which I learnt on my first day was exit.
"We go now. Don't leave anything behind. You can't come back for it if you do. They clean this room after we leave. Some people steal things. Not from Tibor, but from you, they might."
"I only bought the money, my passport a train card and some sheets."
"You think bed might be bad? Smart person. Beds are cleaned in last hour of shift and first hour of shift if they don't finish. Cleaned and dried in basement with musician. He keep eye on things, pays less for staying."
"Are a lot of people like that? Working inside?"
"Cleaners, musician, electrician and plumber."
"Electrician? Why would you need an electrician?"
"Electricity comes into building at certain speed, suddenly gets sucked up by light switches and heaters at faster speed that is designed for. Mostly fixed now. Had to invent some scary things to get power to work, had to break a few laws of science and god. But we can use lights now. No more candles."
"What about computers and laptops?"
The minute for the exiters was up and Tibor looked at me. "Nyet. They work, but too much power. Bring paper, write, bring batteries and use but no plugs for computers. The doctor had his own generator. WALK NOW."
I was shaking as I crossed the red line and didn't look back.
A lady with a large trolley full of rubbish pushed it over the red line behind us, never crossing it herself. Someone on the other side would grab it after the shift changed over.
"When does it start again Tibor?"
"It already has my friend. Look back."
I could see the weird kid with the ball sitting there watching us, stock still, the ball suspended in midair, just above the red line. Slowly, slowly edging towards the wall next to us. The room seemed a lot brighter on this side than in the waiting room. "What would happen if I caught the ball and didn't throw it back?"
"He'd likely leave and then set fire to building." Tibor slapped me on the back and hustled me towards the door. Leaving the Red line behind us. "See how dim it is over there? That is the light of the room, one eighth of it comes through here because of something scientific, speed of light stays constant but the quantity diminishes. Don't ask how, it would break your head."
I walked into the foyer of the former hotel. This place looked a lot better than the waiting room I'd been stuck in for the last ten minutes. There was only stairs to go up to level three where the dormitories were. I had a bed with my name on it.
"Level three is sleeping. Kitchen area is there too. Eat and study on Level two, study and sleep on level one and basement is music man."
"You really know this stuff don't you?"
"Of course. I come here most over everyone."
"Really? How can you afford it?"
"Family discount."
"Family?"
"The freak, makes this place like it is?"
"Yeah? You mentioned him earlier.
"He is my cousin. I bring him books and newspapers. Let him know how the world is doing. Me and my sister, we visit every day, let him know he can leave."
"And he doesn't?"
"Nyet. He's happy here with his books and his friends. Go upstairs, get some sleep my friend. I might introduce you two later, he's a strange one, but he likes new people. We've a long hour ahead of us. Longer than most."
That was the first time I crossed the red line in Moscow and stayed in the weirdest hotel of my life. My boss was right, the beds were comfortable and I slept all afternoon. I came back a few times during my stay in the city. I did meet Tibors cousin once before going home a few months later. But that, that was a really weird story.
The End.
My Day.
I had to drive out to Logan to play soccer this morning, the fields were way down near the huge Ikea, so I needed to leave earlier than I usually would. I actually ended up leaving a bit later than I thought I was going to because I ended up needing to get my clothes together for the game as well as some clothes for the birthday party afterwards. I managed to get all my stuff together before driving off.
I was worried I'd be late but I ended up being about ten minutes early somehow. I found out as I was driving through Coronation drive that the City To South was on today, which I had actually forgotten about. Some people I know did it and seemed to enjoy it today, I've never run a fun run myself, I've helped to organise them a few times but never bothered to run them.
I got to the field and we had a full team which is usually a good thing, unfortunately, despite an early goal we got trounced 7-2. Our keeper in the first half has a broken toe right now so he went off and the second half keeper wasn't quite used to the position. It really makes me appreciate our old keeper who was crazy good at it. The worst part of the game was when one of their guys fell down and actually held onto the ball while on the ground and the ref couldn't see it because it was on the other side of his body to him. That and the goal they scored while offside.
I was put in Defensive Midfield, which everyone seemed to think I was good in, but I'm pretty sure I was horrible at it. I've been a left-back/winger for the last three years going up into midfield only when we absolutely needed it, I don't have the puff to run the field like a midfielder does right now. I'm working on getting it better but I'm currently not there yet.
I did get a few good hits in today, I got a great header in front of the goal, marred slightly by the other guy going for it and headbutting my checkbone, which is still hurting 14 hours later.
After the game was over I got changed in the carpark into my nice party clothes and then checked the time, finding that I had an hour to kill before the party started I drove to Ikea and had some lunch there(Swedish Meatballs with a side salad) which was nice. I also took the opportunity to buy a stuffed toy dog for Ava the birthday girl. Just on a side note: When did they stop giving you Cranberry sauce with the meatballs? I liked that sauce.
I left Ikea, after having to march through the hellscape that is their exit(walking through everything just to get to the checkouts was painful and annoying and its the reason I always tell myself I'm never going back there to eat again). And got on the freeway trying to remember the directions I looked at last night, I found myself at the park about ten minutes late but overall doing pretty well. I went and found my cousins and their daughter and my aunt, uncle and other family members. We had a great time just hanging out and chatting about stuff. Catching up the usual party stuff.
I sometimes forget how much into Sci-fi shows my cousins are, I think its because they weren't into them when they were younger so I tend to forget that they're all grown ups now and have actually interesting interests. We had a good conversation about the current state of Science fiction Television and I recommended that if they liked the setup of Revolution but didn't like the execution then they should look into reading Y The Last Man, which was and is a fantastic read for anyone interested in post-apocalyptic stories AND feminism at the extremes.
As I drove away I got a phone call from the guy who's property the horses are kept on, apparently one of them had got loose and got two or three properties away before it came to a rest. My dad wasn't answering his phone and mine was the only other number the guy had. I called home and my mum told me my dad was already on the way down there. Both of them asked me as soon as they saw me that afternoon how we went in soccer. Neither of them were too happy with the soccer result. We're going to do some drills in training on Thursday to try and build up our keepers.
After I got home I was planning on going to go to university but I needed to get some sleep first. So I went to sleep for an hour and woke up two hours later, discovering that I'd left my window open so it was freezing in my room. I got some dinner from my mum, leftover stew served on toast, which really hit the spot and then sat down to write tonight's short story.
The idea for this story came to me a long while ago when I was trying to think of ways to get more work done in a day, I thought some technology that would speed up time inside a specific space would allow people in a supermarket to fill their shelves faster so they'd be closed for less time(this obviously would ruin everything related to expiry dates) and then thought about people who have labour intensive jobs that don't require outside material, they could do an eight hour shift in four hours easily, doubling production etc. I moved the story to Russia because I was in the car one day and trying to picture the conversation between the two characters and Tibor just had a huge Russian accent for some reason. I didn't come up with the cousin thing until I actually wrote out the story, but it made some sense. In the original story idea he was an enforcer for the Russian Mafya, checking that the narrator wasn't someone up to no good. The reason that Russia works is that in a lot of areas Organised crime is actually organised in a serious enough way that they could potentially run a secret timeshifting hotel where exhausted time-poor people would go to drain some hours for themselves. I was originally going to go into greater detail on the economics of it all(€100 with about forty guys in the place at any one time would add up to about €4000 an hour, about €60,000 a day(assuming there would be less demand in some hours and some expenses) which is a good amount (€14,600,000 a year) for a very low risk venture.
I'm not sure where I was going with the mining story, I just wanted a reason for someone to be strung out and exhausted. I probably need to rewrite it to put more emphasis on how sleepy he is.
And thats me for the day done. Going to sleep now.
Tomorrow I'm going to try and fix up my desk properly.
Weekly Topics.
Monday: Library Camp QLD reflection.
Tuesday: My Pile of Shame. Books I have started but haven't finished.
Wednesday: Online Monitoring report on John Oxley Library Blog.
Thursday: My LinkIn Profile.
Friday: My future as a Librarian.
Saturday: Reflections on my Work Experience.
Sunday: Short Story Sunday: "He's an unpopular Group of People".
YouTube Clip of the day.
I like it when teachers try to be cool for the kids.
The weirdest hotel I've ever stayed in was in Moscow, Russia. The entrance was sealed off and there were some weird looking Mafya guys hanging around with hi-visibility vests on to make sure people didn't come close. I noticed they were well away from the actual building and I noticed someone had painted a thick bright red line around the perimeter of the building and they were carefully avoiding being anywhere near it. I went in through what I think was once the workers entrance to find myself in a converted waiting room with what looked like a broken clock on one wall and a working clock on the other. Across the centre of the room separating us was another big red line.
Everyone here knew what the red line meant. You walked over it and you died. No-one was looking at it while we waited that quiet afternoon. The last shift was about to finish and we were going in. €100 cash and I would spend the next eight hours in there and come out an hour from now, refreshed and rested. Ready to start the day. I just had to wait for the bell and then we'd have a minute to walk across the room, past the line and inside.
I was assured there was a bed inside waiting for me and that nothing I owned would be stolen. The person assuring me of that was the same mafiya who took my money and seemed to have an overly familiar relationship with my boss back at work. I was convinced that this was a scam of some kind, but I needed to see for myself, and I needed to sleep. No matter what happened I needed to sleep.
I'd been awake at this stage for three straight days, working to get the latest product lines out to the market while trying to get my bosses to send me back home to Australia or east to Siberia, I was a manager in a mining export subsidiary in a previous life and had moved to Russia on the promise that I'd be running part of the logistics network for the company working out of Siberia. Instead I was in this crappy looking building, staring at a red line in the ground, hoping I wasn't about to get robbed by one of the dozen or so men in the room.
Occasionally this weird looking man would throw a ball across the red line and watched bemused as it come back before it hit the wall behind, misshapen and twisted he returned the throw I'm certain that he was determined to make it back into a sphere by aiming it just right.
I yearned for another cup of coffee and some caffeine pills but my body couldn't take any more uppers. I needed sleep and this was the only place I could get it.
This big beard with a man stuck behind it was sitting next to me and occasionally looked at me with the type of curiosity that I typically reserved for pet stores. Except I was the cat this time, not the idiot banging on the glass.
"First time no?" His voice was quieter than I thought it would be, not a whisper, but somehow direct and silent like a stab wound.
"You speak English?"
"Yes. I speak English, French, Deutsch, Spanish and Finnish, not Swedish. Working on Swedish."
It seemed a bit odd that he'd single out Sweden as his one area of ignorance but I wasn't even conversational in Russian yet at this stage in my career so I was suitably impressed by his talents. "I only have English and a little Russian. I've just moved here a few weeks ago."
"You come to Russia? Why?" He'd shifted in his seat a little to turn to face me, I began to notice his eyes darting around the room a lot.
"I work for a mining company. They wanted the rights to some areas out East, Siberia mostly and some of the Taiga areas, the East Siberian economic region just north of Mongolia."
"Ah, yes. I'd assume they wanted to set up in Krasnoyarsk? Lovely city if you ever get chance to visit."
"I was there about a week ago. The problem with the contract was that the land rights for the area belong to us but the mining rights belonged, god knows why, to this small electronics firm."
He gave me a conspiratorial smile. "Did this firm belong to local member of government?"
"No, it was his brothers firm. And we bought it off him last week for a lot of money."
"Welcome to Russia my friend. Everyone gets a bite of the sandwich."
A small hunched over man suddenly ran backwards past us to get to the toilet, never taking his eyes off the other end of the room, keeping a strong eye on the clock on this side of the line and the slowly spinning broken clock on the other.
"Should I go as well? He seems like he's nervous."
"I wouldn't, plumbing inside is good. Septic tank underground deals with most of it, fresh water tank on the roof can go through the line okay, refills every couple of days. No worries. Some people don't trust it."
"Why?"
"Once, it was blocked. Imagine eight hours stuck in a house like that. Someone flushed something they shouldn't have. Problem fixed now."
"How?"
"Person who flushed? No longer has ear. Lesson learn."
"Jesus."
"So don't flush anything you shouldn't. Rules are on the walls, in English, Russian and Chinese."
I was only just beginning to realise how much danger I could be in when the five minute warning light started to flash. Despite wanting to sleep I managed to stay focused for the moment on the conversation at hand. I noticed my new friend had a few bags with him, I had a satchel with some sheets in it in case the beds inside were more like a Russian Youth Hostel than a German Youth Hostel.
"Nearly there. My name is Tibor by the way. I've done this a lot of times. You'll be find. I make sure of it."
"Thanks Tibor, my name is Jack, I'm currently managing an electronics firm out in the Cheryomushki District."
"Ya, you were saying. But you are in mining?"
"Yes. The mining licenses are in the firms name and can't be transferred for two years and if the firm goes bankrupt or ceases production the licenses go back to the state. And Gazprom or someone else will likely gobble them up before we can even put a bid on them. So I was told to go to Moscow and make sure the firm stays running for the next two years until we can shut it all down or sell it to someone."
"Sounds like difficult job."
"Its horrible. The place was a wreck when I showed up, they've basically stripped the assets off just before we bought it and I've got about thirty staff and a huge order of BluRay players and some other stuff coming in which we need to sell to distributors. We don't even have trucks right now, I've had to rent them all out from people around the city until we can get our own."
"I see why you come here then."
"Yeah, we're only a little distance away from here and I was told by a contact about this place. Where I could get some sleep and maybe catch up on some work without having to worry about the time. I've got six days to do about a months amount of work right now. So I figured I'd give it a shot. The worst that can happen is I lose eight hours of my life sleeping and am out €100. And then my bosses boss burns me alive for losing the licenses."
"How much have they spent."
I remembered my lessons on corporate espionage at this point, wondering if he was some kind of spy. A Russian energy or mining company trying to get intel from us? Nothing I knew wasn't public knowledge anyway and I was sleep deprived so I swept it aside for the time. "A lot of money. A LOT of money. And if this firm fails then it has all been wasted. We're practically giving the damn merchandise away right now to stay afloat. It would be cheaper to just have the staff form a football team and pay their wages to tour the country in a bus losing to local teams. But my bosses think this could be a profitable subsidiary one day, so after we're done with fixing it up they're going to try and actually run it as a business."
"They, not you?"
"I'm just a warm body in a suit they can blame it all on if it fails. And I'm working through three interpreters most of the day to just get the most basic things done. And I don't have time for anything else."
"No-one has time for anything in Moscow my friend. It is why this place exists."
I looked at the red line again, starting to get impatient for the countdown.
My new friend Tibor pulled out a bottle of coke to drink while we waited, I'd eaten already down the road, some Kebab and chips. I had some instant noodles in my satchel to use with the hot water I was assured would be available and a small folder with some documents I had to go over either inside or on the train back. I could start to see blurs on the other side of the line. It was likely half an hour before they'd be able to cross over to us. My understanding was that there was a five minute window. They would exit first, then we'd enter as quickly as possible leaving about minute for anything important to go through.
"If time wasn't so valuable the freak in the building would be a poor man. Instead he is richer than all of us."
"The freak?"
"The one who does this thing? Makes the building like it is. He lives inside, doesn't leave, just sits there all day and night reading his books and counting his money."
"Its a person? I thought it was a machine or something?"
"If it were a machine it wouldn't be stuck in Russia, it would be everywhere. No, it is person. Just one man who can do this."
"Have you ever met him?"
"I have, you might, he talk to the regulars a lot. There are people in the building who never leave. Criminals, mathematicians, students, computer programmers, a doctor was inside for a while. Surgery was finished in record time and healed up in a days not weeks. Too expensive, too many questions asked. He had to leave. No hurt feelings. Hospital people come here a lot now, sleep between shifts. Work twenty days straight with only two hours break between days. No mistakes."
"So the freak is just some random guy?"
"Ya. He found out one day that he could slow down time. Talk about useless gift. He can't rob a bank by making it slower. Believe me, people have thought about how to do this. Can't be done. He turns it on and off. We go in, we get eight hours for every hour outside. We go out, rested, studied or whatever. Once a man brings a prostitute in. Paid for one hour and got eight. That... that never allowed again."
A darkness crossed his face at the memory of whatever happened that day. "So why are you going in?"
"You never ask that my friend. People here have reason. That is enough to know." The man from before came back from the toilets looking slightly wide-eyed. "See him? He is a drug user, he hides it from family by coming in here. Gets high before and rides it out in his lunch break." He pointed to a young looking guy with a ponytail. "Him, he's a musician, he is only allowed to play music in basement, away from dormitories, he writing an album inside the red line with that guy." A blond looking kid with facial tattoos who was, I only just noticed, glaring at me. "He's a poet and has three jobs and no time to sleep between them. He makes enough at one job to pay for this every day. Six hours of sleep and two of writing songs."
For someone who said you don't ask why people go in he certainly knew why most people were going in. I didn't want to point out he hypocrisy at this stage as my eyes were growing heavier and the words he was saying were starting to slip. "I'm only going inside because I need to sleep and I don't have the time. I can't go on like this every day, the company is more or less paying me to do this."
"You've the money and no time. Is common problem in world today. Most people here take a desk and work for their time, go home, be with families. Save some memories with children and wife."
"Why can't we just cross over whenever we want to?"
"What?"
"Why can't we just walk over the line. I was told about five times to never ever cross the line unless I was told it was okay."
"Your body would collapse. The front half would be going eight times faster than the back half. Everyone who tries. Dead. Mafya clean up bodies, charge extra to family. They painted Red line to warn people. Used to be just a doorway into the foyer, closed until time was up. You see idiot with the ball before? The ball came back different shape everytime. Imagine if that were your heart. He comes here every day, tries to get ball back to sphere. I see him do it once. Just once. His sister run through doorway early, came out otherside a puddle. He... broken after that."
"Jesus. You've been doing this a long time haven't you?"
"Ya. I go in a lot. I go in with books, I come out with languages. Translate for tourists, small money, good money."
"So you just study inside?"
"Ya. I sleep sometimes. But mostly just read and learn languages. People from around world come to Moscow, hear about building, cross the Red Line and want to talk to someone. I talk to them, show them around inside, books and people."
The clock on the other side of the red line suddenly stopped moving so fast and I realised that what I thought was a very slow second hand was actually a very fast minute hand. Blurs who were people were suddenly waling across the Red Line towards the green Выход sign which I learnt on my first day was exit.
"We go now. Don't leave anything behind. You can't come back for it if you do. They clean this room after we leave. Some people steal things. Not from Tibor, but from you, they might."
"I only bought the money, my passport a train card and some sheets."
"You think bed might be bad? Smart person. Beds are cleaned in last hour of shift and first hour of shift if they don't finish. Cleaned and dried in basement with musician. He keep eye on things, pays less for staying."
"Are a lot of people like that? Working inside?"
"Cleaners, musician, electrician and plumber."
"Electrician? Why would you need an electrician?"
"Electricity comes into building at certain speed, suddenly gets sucked up by light switches and heaters at faster speed that is designed for. Mostly fixed now. Had to invent some scary things to get power to work, had to break a few laws of science and god. But we can use lights now. No more candles."
"What about computers and laptops?"
The minute for the exiters was up and Tibor looked at me. "Nyet. They work, but too much power. Bring paper, write, bring batteries and use but no plugs for computers. The doctor had his own generator. WALK NOW."
I was shaking as I crossed the red line and didn't look back.
A lady with a large trolley full of rubbish pushed it over the red line behind us, never crossing it herself. Someone on the other side would grab it after the shift changed over.
"When does it start again Tibor?"
"It already has my friend. Look back."
I could see the weird kid with the ball sitting there watching us, stock still, the ball suspended in midair, just above the red line. Slowly, slowly edging towards the wall next to us. The room seemed a lot brighter on this side than in the waiting room. "What would happen if I caught the ball and didn't throw it back?"
"He'd likely leave and then set fire to building." Tibor slapped me on the back and hustled me towards the door. Leaving the Red line behind us. "See how dim it is over there? That is the light of the room, one eighth of it comes through here because of something scientific, speed of light stays constant but the quantity diminishes. Don't ask how, it would break your head."
I walked into the foyer of the former hotel. This place looked a lot better than the waiting room I'd been stuck in for the last ten minutes. There was only stairs to go up to level three where the dormitories were. I had a bed with my name on it.
"Level three is sleeping. Kitchen area is there too. Eat and study on Level two, study and sleep on level one and basement is music man."
"You really know this stuff don't you?"
"Of course. I come here most over everyone."
"Really? How can you afford it?"
"Family discount."
"Family?"
"The freak, makes this place like it is?"
"Yeah? You mentioned him earlier.
"He is my cousin. I bring him books and newspapers. Let him know how the world is doing. Me and my sister, we visit every day, let him know he can leave."
"And he doesn't?"
"Nyet. He's happy here with his books and his friends. Go upstairs, get some sleep my friend. I might introduce you two later, he's a strange one, but he likes new people. We've a long hour ahead of us. Longer than most."
That was the first time I crossed the red line in Moscow and stayed in the weirdest hotel of my life. My boss was right, the beds were comfortable and I slept all afternoon. I came back a few times during my stay in the city. I did meet Tibors cousin once before going home a few months later. But that, that was a really weird story.
The End.
My Day.
I had to drive out to Logan to play soccer this morning, the fields were way down near the huge Ikea, so I needed to leave earlier than I usually would. I actually ended up leaving a bit later than I thought I was going to because I ended up needing to get my clothes together for the game as well as some clothes for the birthday party afterwards. I managed to get all my stuff together before driving off.
I was worried I'd be late but I ended up being about ten minutes early somehow. I found out as I was driving through Coronation drive that the City To South was on today, which I had actually forgotten about. Some people I know did it and seemed to enjoy it today, I've never run a fun run myself, I've helped to organise them a few times but never bothered to run them.
I got to the field and we had a full team which is usually a good thing, unfortunately, despite an early goal we got trounced 7-2. Our keeper in the first half has a broken toe right now so he went off and the second half keeper wasn't quite used to the position. It really makes me appreciate our old keeper who was crazy good at it. The worst part of the game was when one of their guys fell down and actually held onto the ball while on the ground and the ref couldn't see it because it was on the other side of his body to him. That and the goal they scored while offside.
I was put in Defensive Midfield, which everyone seemed to think I was good in, but I'm pretty sure I was horrible at it. I've been a left-back/winger for the last three years going up into midfield only when we absolutely needed it, I don't have the puff to run the field like a midfielder does right now. I'm working on getting it better but I'm currently not there yet.
I did get a few good hits in today, I got a great header in front of the goal, marred slightly by the other guy going for it and headbutting my checkbone, which is still hurting 14 hours later.
After the game was over I got changed in the carpark into my nice party clothes and then checked the time, finding that I had an hour to kill before the party started I drove to Ikea and had some lunch there(Swedish Meatballs with a side salad) which was nice. I also took the opportunity to buy a stuffed toy dog for Ava the birthday girl. Just on a side note: When did they stop giving you Cranberry sauce with the meatballs? I liked that sauce.
I left Ikea, after having to march through the hellscape that is their exit(walking through everything just to get to the checkouts was painful and annoying and its the reason I always tell myself I'm never going back there to eat again). And got on the freeway trying to remember the directions I looked at last night, I found myself at the park about ten minutes late but overall doing pretty well. I went and found my cousins and their daughter and my aunt, uncle and other family members. We had a great time just hanging out and chatting about stuff. Catching up the usual party stuff.
I sometimes forget how much into Sci-fi shows my cousins are, I think its because they weren't into them when they were younger so I tend to forget that they're all grown ups now and have actually interesting interests. We had a good conversation about the current state of Science fiction Television and I recommended that if they liked the setup of Revolution but didn't like the execution then they should look into reading Y The Last Man, which was and is a fantastic read for anyone interested in post-apocalyptic stories AND feminism at the extremes.
As I drove away I got a phone call from the guy who's property the horses are kept on, apparently one of them had got loose and got two or three properties away before it came to a rest. My dad wasn't answering his phone and mine was the only other number the guy had. I called home and my mum told me my dad was already on the way down there. Both of them asked me as soon as they saw me that afternoon how we went in soccer. Neither of them were too happy with the soccer result. We're going to do some drills in training on Thursday to try and build up our keepers.
After I got home I was planning on going to go to university but I needed to get some sleep first. So I went to sleep for an hour and woke up two hours later, discovering that I'd left my window open so it was freezing in my room. I got some dinner from my mum, leftover stew served on toast, which really hit the spot and then sat down to write tonight's short story.
The idea for this story came to me a long while ago when I was trying to think of ways to get more work done in a day, I thought some technology that would speed up time inside a specific space would allow people in a supermarket to fill their shelves faster so they'd be closed for less time(this obviously would ruin everything related to expiry dates) and then thought about people who have labour intensive jobs that don't require outside material, they could do an eight hour shift in four hours easily, doubling production etc. I moved the story to Russia because I was in the car one day and trying to picture the conversation between the two characters and Tibor just had a huge Russian accent for some reason. I didn't come up with the cousin thing until I actually wrote out the story, but it made some sense. In the original story idea he was an enforcer for the Russian Mafya, checking that the narrator wasn't someone up to no good. The reason that Russia works is that in a lot of areas Organised crime is actually organised in a serious enough way that they could potentially run a secret timeshifting hotel where exhausted time-poor people would go to drain some hours for themselves. I was originally going to go into greater detail on the economics of it all(€100 with about forty guys in the place at any one time would add up to about €4000 an hour, about €60,000 a day(assuming there would be less demand in some hours and some expenses) which is a good amount (€14,600,000 a year) for a very low risk venture.
I'm not sure where I was going with the mining story, I just wanted a reason for someone to be strung out and exhausted. I probably need to rewrite it to put more emphasis on how sleepy he is.
And thats me for the day done. Going to sleep now.
Tomorrow I'm going to try and fix up my desk properly.
Weekly Topics.
Monday: Library Camp QLD reflection.
Tuesday: My Pile of Shame. Books I have started but haven't finished.
Wednesday: Online Monitoring report on John Oxley Library Blog.
Thursday: My LinkIn Profile.
Friday: My future as a Librarian.
Saturday: Reflections on my Work Experience.
Sunday: Short Story Sunday: "He's an unpopular Group of People".
YouTube Clip of the day.
I like it when teachers try to be cool for the kids.
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