LLZ-2: Roze Island

A small lesson in geography. Think of a flat plane that stretches forever from side to side, with bottomless void, filled by flying islands scattered at different altitude. Two large countries resides on top of the largest island known to man, The Republic and Milium. The island is called Ha, one should realize its short name signify its ancient roots.

There is another country on Ha laymen tends to forget. Located near the east side of Ha, shaped like a small slice of pie, is a country officially titled Federation of Peace and Freedom. Commonly referred as Feds, they are a minor player in wars between The Republic and Milium. She often acts as a middleman, an intermediary, or a puppet controlled by the highest bidder.

Most of the landmass under Fed’s control are located outside Ha. Each islands serves different purposes.Military, medical, research institutions, and even entertainment. An entertainment-centric island exists called Roze, a paradise for those who seek happiness. A popular tourist destination from either The Republic and Milium, especially single men with Koen to spare. Roze features extreme rides of roller coasters, pods that flew into the sky without any attachments, and theaters of magic. But there is an area only accessible to those with a real identity card.

Yes, a real identity card, only obtainable by people aged twenty five years or older. None of those baby cards everyone get at birth. This is the real deal. You can drive high speed cars with it. Work dangerous jobs without parent’s consent. Create your own political groups. Vote in general election.

The story starts by a real cardholder, a man called Lukman. He is flying to Roze a day after he thought of his own mental health. His consciousness was damaged over years of working himself to the bone. Soon after his fateful meeting with Parma at Jackson’s bar, he immediately bought a one way ticket towards Roze Island. His vacation leave was not even approved yet, but he’s not taking any chances.

He chose to travel by loon, paying for the earliest flight possible. A loon is giant-flying-ship with carrying capacity of 400 people, powered by three mana engines that can support a whole ship even if two of them died. It typically fly at 700 meters above ground. The rough sound of its engine are reduced to a quite hum when it reaches the cabin.

Lukman is sleeping, his head rested on the window. His breath creates a streak of condensed air across the plastic panel. A strand of saliva drips from his open mouth, staining his floral patterned shirt. His arm is weighed down by bracelets given by the airport staff, right after he put his suitcase in the luggage area.

Jackson sits beside him, reading a thick infomercial book. On a page, Jackson saw a large spread of buildings with neon lights. In front of it, women from different parts of Roze are captured dancing seducingly over a dim light. Out of the window, one can see a large landmass appearing behind the clouds. A tall 600 meters tower sticking up above everything. It’s casting a long shadow on top of nearby buildings, swinging around as time went on, like a nature-born clock hand.

“God damn why is it so bright and hot in this place?!” Jackson said it with his hand covering a part of his eyes. This season is warmer than usual, and humid too. But it seems the locals does not care about it. The sky acts differently on different altitude. Above a 500 meters, it became a giant lamp which confuses early sky adventurers. It’s as if they were shone with a bright object, from everywhere. It is merciless, even the loon must put a protective film on top of their already dark windows. Especially on passenger sides.

Looking at the other tourists, they seem to not be bothered by the heat. They are still able to enjoy air conditioner located in front of their faces. They came from many facets of life even if it’s not even holiday season yet. There are newly weds, graduating students, and even groups of elderly people.

Roze finally grew closer as the loon descents to around 200 meters above ground. A few communication tower can be seen in the distance. Jackson’s ear popped from difference in altitude, swallowing should fix it. A yellow sign started to blinked frequently, any passengers still not in their seat returned at once. Ten stewardess walked silently between each chairs, checking for any soul without a seat belt.

The loon is piloted by a seasoned veteran, he landed it smoothly on top of predetermined target. He had gone through war with less navigational apparatus, putting down a stable ship on top of a well lit ground easy in comparison. The hum of the engine slows down similar to air conditioner, it dies of one by one. The loon’s exit is now crowded with people bumping into each other. They are naturally impatient, it has been a long flight.

Jackson hasn’t tried to wake Lukman up. He is waiting for the jam at the exit to subside. He finished reading the infomercial book over five times already, his brain is now full of recommended locations, bars, hotels, and even hospitals if need be. He felt becoming a tour guide, it also helped he came here twice before. “Came”, as in he visited places here, not the other meaning.

“Oi, get up. We’ve arrived.” Said Jackson with deliberate annoying tone.

Jackson pushed Lukman’s shoulder repeatedly. His sleeping face frowned, he spoke out a high pitched moan of tantrum. He rubbed his eye, sky shining from nearby windows woke him to half consciousness. His eyes attracted to a staff outside of his cabin. The staff carried a large bag on his truck to transport the passengers’ luggage away. The ground outside is plain, gray, it’s a sea of asphalt.

A minibus waits for passengers to board it. Red carpets made from durable nylon was laid out as a guide and a sign of hospitality. They were taken away ten minutes after the loon had landed. After ten minutes of walking inside the airport, Lukman’s suitcase is finally on sight. It’s moving on top of a conveyor belt. They rolled down their suitcases towards the entrance, before a woman in her thirties called out to them. Her hand is waving in excitement. She is showing her teeth, which are small and cute. In her left hand, she is grabbing a small whiteboard, Jackson’s name is written on top of it with neon ink.

“Jackson, right here! It’s me, Hana!” She screamed it, Jackson took notice and made a slight smile from the corner of his lips.

They closed their distance and hugged each other while Lukman watched from the sideline. His hair is all over the place and his eyes aren’t opening fully. Hana looked at him with a big smile, Lukman replied hastily with a nod.

“It’s nice to see you again Hana, how have you been?” Jackson asked her with a slow yet gentle tone, as if they’ve known each other since forever.

“Well you definitely made my day, just by coming here! But before that, how about you start by introducing that gentleman over there?” Said Hana gleefully.

Jackson took Lukman’s arm in a swift motion, then made him closer. He slumped forward, his hand wiggles to find balance, then stopped midway. He’s trying not to embarrass himself in front of strangers.

“Hana, please meet my dear friend from the pub, Lukman. Say hi, Lukman.”

“Hello.”

“That’s not a “hi”. Anyway Hana, he came here for pleasure. Do you think you can set him up with something good?“ Jackson winked at her. She popped a mischievous grin in reply.

“Let’s talk business later, I think I get the gist of it. I have a p-tram outside, I can take you around the island. Or did you already bought a transport?” Hana dangles a key to her p-tram.

“Nope, no transport. Just you, me, and this sleepy guy.” Said Jackson.

The p-tram is parked outside, waiting while an air conditioner kept the inside cold. A popular mode of transportation, p-tram is a semi-automatic car with an ambiguous front and backside. It’s powered by a Katachi X4 engine with a top speed of 90 kilometers an hour. It uses mana as fuel and can read the road as if it has its own brain. Anyone can “drive” p-tram, it’s a pretty simple vehicle. Just like a traditional electric tram, the user only need to punch in their destination to an analogue keys located near the dashboard. It’s the perfect vehicle for traveling, because no one need to care about the road and can turn chair facing each other. Essentially, a waiting room where destination is a click away.

Jackson put their luggage in the trunk to make space inside. Big enough for Lukman to stretch his feet outwards, nearly touching the other side of the p-tram. Their eyes are staring outside the window, looking at buildings, parks, and people that passes by. They are near the airport, it’s natural to see businesses and marketplace bustling with life, especially at this hour. Everyone is wearing colorful clothes, and their faces are white and glittery covered in skyprotek, an ointment to prevent skin burns and irritation from the skylight. A mother catches one of her children before they can cross the busy street. The kid is millimeters away from crashing their p-tram.

They fell silent, enjoying the scenery and bliss of their first day in Roze. This is the first time Lukman has ever visited such an entertainment focused island. He rarely see an indigenous house anywhere near the main road. It’s as if The Federation had swallowed up everyone except their own citizens.

“Have you been here before, Lukman?” Hana started the conversation.

“N-No, I haven’t. This is my first time. I heard good things about it.”

“Oh, then you should know the local’s digest then? You know, the entertainment options.” Hana pulled a string, Lukman could sense where this conversation is going.

“It’s impossible not to, the fediverse were all talking about it. Those feds are very liberal when it comes to money and entertainment.” Lukman gave his thought based on what he sees on fediverse, a kind of social media network.

“Do you have anything you want in mind? Maybe a place that you’ve dreamt before? I know Roze like the back of my hand, ask me anything. Seriously, anything.”

Jackson pull any words he had in mind back to his mouth. He is enjoying the conversation, and he might learn something if he shuts up. Lukman is interested by this, he closed his eyes and think of a good questions.

“Alright, I will ask several things. Let’s start with the easy one. How did this island came about, and why is there so many tourist spots here.” Asked Lukman.

“My ten year old nephew knew the answer. This island was taken forcefully in a war. A war which my grand-pappy survived when he’s still young. They tear up our infrastructure, economy, government, and even our education systems. After they ruined our livelihood, those feds pushed us out of the city center with flimsy excuse. To evacuate civilians from a war zone, the one they started by themselves. Obviously, my people lost and the feds won their right to transform the island into anything they desired. From then on, it’s called Roze.”

Lukman already knew the answer, better than she did. His hobby and job is to stake out for any morsel of information from his enemies. Searching for how Roze was created is an easy feat. But now, he started to go for the point. The gentleman’s club.

“Ah, so you want my recommendation. I think I could give you pointers, what are you searching for?”

“What are you looking at me for?” Lukman feel offended, but the room know he is the star of the hour.

Being a harlot happens to be the oldest profession within our history, predating the historic era. Profits taken from lonely men was used to create hospitals, roads, streetlights, and even schools. Without exaggeration, they were the backbone of society, primarily being the one who made the cash flow, flowing. It’s not uncommon to see a town becoming cities because several beautiful women worked hard investing in their futures.

Even before The Feds stepped foot, the indigenous people of Roze saw it as just another job. There were no prejudice, unlike the other large nations. Successful establishments were treated as an industry, pumping out talented and gifted women into the workforce. These companies influences even The Feds, exempting them from regular taxations, creating their own code and laws to benefits their industry.

Franchises, knock offs, and spiritual successors popped up, populating the once empty lot into a hub of lust seekers. Although each store will cater to their own niche, there is a template for their business. Not out of regulation, but from a simple economical practicalities.

The practice is called “twin-job” system. A system so old, it became an unwritten rule rather than a proper business plan. It started from business owner noticing the lack of customers when they were working their jobs. The cash flows always decreases on days when businesses opens up, because no one had the time to entertain themselves while working. To increase revenue, the store owners made the genius move to create a working system for their vacant employees. They decided to open up a restaurant, coffee shops, bakeries, and employed their already beautiful girls to work.

It became a popular mode of working, where the workers do night and day shifts interchangeably. This resulted in a demystification of sex-workers for tourists simply by making them interactable within a “safe for work” environment in the morning, and giving their proper services in the night. The business owners became happy, and the workers can develop their skill outside of their physical abilities.

One of the business owners in the island is a former worker herself, Hana. She started at the age of 20 and is now an entrepreneur by the age of 40, which no one would expect by how young and smooth her skin looks. She worked at a respectable establishments in the red district, “The Mirrors Palace”. It happens to be their next destination, Jackson had already planned ahead.

Lukman is currently drinking his cup of tea, right outside a cafe. The evening sky is orange and the clouds is thinly distributed throughout. People passing by, minding their own business. Chirps of birds called out to their mate, even when the street is busy with activities. He is enjoying a book to pass the time, a romantic novel titled, “A Bench Outside”. A story of a photographer who likes to take pictures of couples on a bench in the park. The story ends beautifully to some, and horribly cliched to the others. Either way, this is the tenth time Lukman read the book.

He had offloaded his suitcase at the hotel, and they decided to split off and rendezvous at Mirrors Palace later at night. Although Jackson did say he is going around the city with Hana, for old time sake. Lukman guesses that they had a history together, he thinks they’re a cute couple. A passage of conversation is being replayed in Lukman’s head. It happened when he was exchanging the hotel keys in the hotel’s lobby, behind him is Jackson and Hana making a conversation.

“Although I’m the owner of this place, it’s actually a franchise. I took a deal with some guy called Glasses Man, pretty mysterious but he’s well known around here. We have talked a little—” Hana whispers, as if Lukman was not meant to hear it.

Lukman raised a part of his eyebrow upon hearing that name. Glasses Man, an elusive figure he had heard in passing. The grapevine does not know much of him, but The Agency speculated his connections with Milium’s officials. Lukman has a duty to report this upstairs, but there’s a part of him that wants to enjoy the vacation. He turned his brain around while quoting The Republic’s BEP—Business, Employment, and Practice—code number B25 paragraph 1:

Employer shall not directly or indirectly, with or without reprimand, in any condition, order their employee outside work hours, without an agreed upon compensation, verbal, and written agreement at minimum a day before the order. Failing to comply is the equivalent of violating a third degree misdemeanor, with fine up to twenty years of the employee’s yearly total compensation package including benefits such as health insurance.

This made Lukman to consider the easier approach. He rather spent the day not doing anything than to work on his vacation. This Glasses Man will not go anywhere, he thought. If he’s able to operate for years without issues, Lukman is sure to be safe if he came to the establishment as a customer. The work can wait.

In a blink of an eye, the novel he purposefully read slowly eventually came to an end. The book lasted him into the night, just as the sky darkens into its lowest brightness. No shadow is being cast, yet the streets and buildings shines up with luminescent strips of sticks and glowing projectors. Unlike a traditional light-to-wall projectors which became obsolete as technology improves, these storefronts instead uses LTA projections. It still uses a digital encoders to emit pictures from a device, but mana powered magic circuits enhances it by aligning the molecules in the air to create a 3D plane to create 3D holograms. The one being used are mostly monochromes, but it’s enough to entertain and advertise the business.

Pedestrian, especially tourist, are mostly shy and unsure of how safe it is. Employees are told not to be too persuasive, often just gently smile while drinking a tea, like waiting for a date. Lukman observed a couple of men, probably just friends, watching a lady in plain white clothing outside of a store. They are bickering with each other, whispering, and pushing towards the store. The lady smiles in return, her flicked left, inviting them to sit together outside. They started to converse, professionally, a server and a client.

After the courtesies are over, they talk straight to business. They started with the boundaries, the dos, or donts. No surprises, everything is agreed beforehand, and no force could be used without verbal and direct consent. After that, both men talked about their preferences, what they are searching for, what kinds of experience they are expecting. The lady sitting across them nods confidently, she is noting down their request with the experience of a veteran in the industry. As soon as they stopped talking, she already had an accurate picture in mind. She gave them a piece of paper with scribbles on it, like a code of sort. She gestured to walk towards a door behind her, as if they are finally welcomed. They giddily walk towards the entrance, the grin on their faces are creepy and annoying.

Lukman saw and heard everything. He guessed Hana as an equivalent to the girl waiting outside. An interviewer of sort, like asking the waiter for a recommendation and best sellers. He felt a light tap on his shoulder, its Jackson wearing a pitch-black shirt.

“Let’s go, it’s time to move.” He tilted his head towards the road.

“How the hell did you find me?” Lukman wonders.

“Your eyes was captivated by this place as soon as we landed. I’m quite perceptive, you know.” Jackson replied in confidence.