On Boat 15

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[[size 1.25em]]The 15th boat in line, loosely tucked under the superstructure of a city, was little more than an enclosed dinghy. One that never moved from its spot, it used to be that every once in a while someone would make sure that there wasn't a corpse on board, but by now most people knew that it was simply a part of the environment.

"I've been to land a couple of times. Solid earth, dirt, felt wrong under my feet. I'd grown so used to concrete and metal that the very concept of ground was foreign."

"So it is an option?"

"I guess so, but at some point, the water had risen enough that most coastal cities had fallen under the waves in some way or another. Oh, and the heat made the rest pretty insufferable."
They pause for a moment to let the scribble of a pen on notepad subside.

"London and Singapore couldn't keep up, joining Miami and Amsterdam. The land submerged in the murky salty soup of the ocean. The US coastline was ravaged; in fact, the country was reduced back to 47 states, with the remnants of Florida being absorbed by Georgia, and Hawaii being considered lost in its entirety, the residents forced to take refuge in and along the active volcano."

"Pretty bold of you to assume there's any of those places where I'm from."

"It's a pretty fair assumption, but then again, feel free to stop me if I need to elaborate."

The one on the right, who had personally visited 3 of those places in their life, shrugged before returning to their writing.

"No, please continue. I guess to you it's like an elegy, but we can still learn from this."

A look of annoyance briefly flashes across the one on the left's face, but they assume the best and simply correct. "I'd prefer an ode to our faults." They shift slightly as if knocking information loose in their head. "Some places fared better. New York saw the water in the streets and embraced it. They've become a modern day Venice, their skyscrapers flooded up to fourth floors, lobbies replacing office space. China only lost Hong Kong and Macau. Of course, the people who made it out before it all went to shit say it was intentional."

A suspicious eye rises above halted notes. "Was it?"

"Maybe" returns the one to the left. "China put as much as possible into fortifying against the East China Sea. Constructing massive sea walls capable of withstanding the rising waters. Chances are, they just picked one battle over another."

The scribble resumes but for a second before ceasing, and an interruption, even if previously invited, occurs.

"Hold on, 47?"

"Rhode Island."

The man on the right laughs at this. Shifting slightly in the wooden chair nailed to its point. The person on the left, who talks with their hands, was frozen in the middle of pantomiming a great wall before resuming their monologue.

"The process nearly doomed Tokyo and left most of Korea uninhabitable. The Chinese did take in the Korean refugees to fill the ever growing need for labor at that same wall."

"Is the old Great Wall still standing?" The man on the right muses, wondering how history repeats itself across dimensions. If all of time is happening at once, or if instead it's staggered. one of the places he had visited recently claimed it was 2500, but then again, maybe Jesus was never born there.

"That is the old Great Wall?" he gets in return. Perhaps raising more questions than anything, but in their short time together, it's of little consequence.

------

"So," the man on the right, who had been contemplating the historical impact of the Great Wall of China, returns from his brief daydream to continue a more apt line of questioning. "The boat, or sorry, I guess this whole island."

"City." The person on the right, who has put their head on a hand, states plainly as if floating cities were the norm everywhere. "The land and what's left of those cities stopped being desirable. Oil rigs, ships, and platforms began to fill that hole. You don't have to worry about sinking when you can float."

"Seems like a lot to figure out, how to put a city on the ocean?"

The person on the left seems to find this amusing but is not as quick to laugh as the man on the right.

"It's been around long enough that it just made sense. Airline execs figured out the," they put up air quotes mockingly "'floating city' originally, or at least one larger than the old style of oil rig. It was a strange development at the time; their rationale was that if they could put an air hub out in the Atlantic, cross Atlantic flights would be easier and cheaper. Plus an added bonus of tourism to see a "city on the ocean" ensured that people used the connection instead of just flying straight to their destination." They hold the wide, dramatic gesture they had composed for a second to emphasize "city on the ocean." This was the origin of their home after all.

"Nothing like it is today, I take it."

"Something like that. The new fad wore off, and people went back to flying straight across the ocean when planes kept getting faster and faster. The idea stuck, maybe because the water started rising at around that same time, we had to make concessions, of course. The luxury of the original, floating airports and hotels is long gone now. All that's left is imitation, a necessary corruption."

The person on the left, who probably could've continued for several hours, develops a look upon their face not unlike a deer in headlights. Not out of shock, but just as a matter of losing their train of thought. They're looking through a porthole that had been illuminating the room throughout their conversation.

The man on the right, who had been looking down at their notes, finally notices the lapse in speech and looks first up before he turns in his seat to look towards that same window.

"Well. Mr…" The person on the left proposes, looking for that last piece of the puzzle to remember the man on the right.

"Dr." Is returned without turning back, he's watching a ship as it comes to pass. He appears almost enamored, perhaps by its size and intricacy compared to boat 15.

"Mr. Dr." follows rapidly. Breaking Mr. Dr.'s spell, turning him back towards the now smiling person on the left.

"What?"

"I guess there was something to gain. We get to sit here until the drift lifts you away, and you walk home with this place's warning. Some sort of consolation prize, I guess."

"I would ask why you haven't decided to sit on this side of the room then."

"But you know the answer, don't you? This is my place, just as that is yours. I watch the waves each day; someone else will watch the land."

"It's the same answer every time."

"To you."

The 15th boat in line, loosely tucked under the superstructure of a city, bucks and rises as a large craft passes outside. It's wake lifting the dinghy in such a way that the light filtering through the porthole lands upon the man on the right, and he disappears.[[/size]]
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On Boat 15

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