The Search
I’ll Find You at the End of the World
Liberty is out there somewhere. Really the “End of
the World” for her friends and family of the Pyramid,
living under daily suppression and constant threat.
Hour by hour. Minute by minute. Maybe it’s not real to
you what it means to live under the vicious Gland.
It’s not like you did something wrong and in the
morning the prison guards would wake up and beat you
up. Even in the middle of the night you’re imprisoned,
inside a body connected with invisible cables to a
ruthless machine, a machine that does not let you sway
left or right without punishment. Who’s gonna dare
thinking about the rebel, the one who killed herself
by her own deeds? Why should he suffer for her?
Nevertheless, like many other things, that was NOT
everybody’s line of thought.
Liberty’s sixteenth birthday is coming up. There’s
somebody there who does not think of her as someone
who dies at age 12½. A strong and handsome young man,
his muscles milk-chocolate colored. His black hair
blows in the wind, his smile as lively as it is
charming. He admires Liberty and intends to go out on
her coming birthday and search for her, and bring her
back from the other End of the World. From where he
thinks she is. He’s preparing the ground for her
homecoming. And for that end he kept a low profile,
quietly gathering confidential strategic connections
throughout the Pyramid. Did I say “strategist”?
About a month after her escape he felt that she was
alive and recovering somewhere. The months and the
years passed, and he misses her, like, a lot. Yes you
guessed right, that was White Horizon. He has decided
to search and find his long lost girl, and for this he
invented a bicycle capable of crossing the desert. He
builds it out of old bicycle parts. To the wheels he
adds springs dumped by his friend Joshua Gadgets.
About those springs, from the machines, sometimes they
are replaced by Joshua for being broken or cracked.
Some others he replaces because they are too soft for
his taste (he has no lab equipment so he tests them by
hand). Those, the unbroken, are perfect for the
bicycle that White Horizon is building. Joshua is
willing to give them away at no charge.
But White Horizon considers those to be very valuable
objects. He insists on giving Joshua Gadgets some fair
exchange for the old springs.
“OK,” says Joshua, “What I need is some order in my
messed up warehouse of tools and supplies. I can find
nothing here last couple of years.”
He’s right, because he has an inner corner of the
pyramid, at the bottom level, and access is hard
especially for those things right under the corner.
White Horizon invents and builds for him a system of
sacks-on-rails, each sack marked by color embroidery.
In the sacks he organizes the tools and supplies, per
type and size.
The embroidery, by the way, was done by young Bo-Ris,
Joshua’s 18-year old younger sister, per instructions
by White Horizon. She did an excellent job, was proud
of the results and also enjoyed the work tremendously.
White Horizon encourages her to change her profession…
her clerical job bores her to death.
“No but I’m not built for productive work,” she tells
him.
“How come you’re not built for it if you enjoy
embroidery so much and doing a great job at it – and
on the other hand bored to the roof at the
governmental agency for counting sheep legs? It
doesn’t make sense.”
She looks at him with a baffled frown: “Maybe you’re
right logically but the Psychographic Consultant has
determined beyond doubt that I’m not good for any
manual labor. Her conclusion may be incorrect but it
is very scientific.”
“Do you hear what you’re saying?”
“Leave me be, OK? We’re not allowed to negate
Psychography, even the priests say so.”
End of discussion. Let it be, for now. Only for now.
He made the leather sacks travel along strong cables
that move circularly on several tracks. Each such
track contains a loop of twenty to forty sacks
depending on their size and weight. THE TRACKS in
themselves can be moved sideways, explains White
Horizon to Joshua, to make room for more storage in
that given space.
Thus, Joshua earned valuable storage place, order,
lower expenses (because no parts are lying around
unused) and, of course, better work efficiency. The
customers are very pleased. Joshua does not give
proper credit and presents the revamped warehouse as
his own creation. White Horizon on his part is not
angry at all. Instead, he truly thanks Joshua for what
he DOES give: excellent springs for free, tools and
space “to build your crazy bicycle” – and even
permission to “go ahead and date my sister.”
“No thanks,” so White Horizon, “My heart belongs to
another.”
 “Your crazy bicycle” as Joshua calls it, is designed
only for desert travel. That’s why it has no rubber on
the wheels, because rubber would only tear up on the
rocks and sink in the sand. Instead, White Horizon
installed a series of springs on each wheel’s rim, on
the outside. At the end of each spring he placed a
round washer, about 25% larger than the diameter of
the spring. This arrangement is good for rocky roads
and dirt roads in general. To let the springs move
freely through the body of the bike, he had to make
the front and rear forks longer and a bit wider. When
you want to ride on sand, the disks are not enough to
prevent the springs from sinking into the dune. The
springs sink in – and if you stop for a moment –
you’re stuck. That’s why, before each dune, you must
stop and add a dual-layer leather stripe.
The inner layer has holes to match the washers. The
outer layer is made of thicker hide without holes,
giving you smooth ride on soft dunes. It takes special
skills to ride sideways on the dune slope, but the
energetic youngster trained himself to do that, in
only two days of vigorous training on the nearest
dune.
 In his backpack White Horizon packed survival gear
and supplies for several days. He sneaks one night
through the Moon Gate, out he goes to search for
Liberty, following old clues and his personal
assumptions.
After three days in the desert he covered much land,
at least five times walking distance (totally
theoretic – none of the Pyramid dwellers walks about
for days in the desert) and much further if you
compare it to the usual pace of a shepherd walking his
slow herd.
On the morning of the forth day, at sunrise, he looks
to the south east and his heart jumps: CAVE OPENINGS!
“I think she’s here, like I saw back home some three
years ago!” He jumps on his bike with such excitement
that he almost forgot his backpack under the bush
where he spent the night.
“Hey, I forgot to make a saddle for her! Never mind –
we’ll improvise something.”
He gathers all his speed, not letting go for a minute.
Before him stood a medium sized dune. Should he stop
and put on the leather stripes? Worst case scenario?
He could always stop later and put them on. He rides
up the dune as fast as if it was regular dirt. The
springs bring up a cloud of sand that fills up his
hair and mouth, but he still goes as fast as can be.
When he swooshes down the dune, his breath almost
stops: a beautiful girl, in a long brown gown, stands
as if waiting just for him by the entrance to the
third cave, watching the strange morning scene on the
dune.
He stops by her with squealing brakes and jumps off
the bike. You can only jump off of it, because of the
heightened forks. The girl smiles at him.
“Did she await my arrival?” he wonders. Her hair,
under the hood of her gown, does not match the yellow
hair he so vividly remembers. Maybe she changed with
the years, became similar to her hosts. The girl is
silent, giving him a sign to follow her.
In the shadow of one of the entrances, by a water
fountain, she stops and says in legible language:
“Wash your face, stranger.”
White Horizon looks at her, astonished, then he looks
at his reflection on the water. Indeed, his face is
full of sand. He looks back at the girl and they both
burst out laughing. He washes his face and hair.
“Come, I take you to her.”
“…???”
“I know who you came to see, boy. Come, today she work
in bread.”
The bakery was located behind the dwelling caves, in a
large but not deep cave, seemingly to allow for good
ventilation. It’s also facing north. So the sun
doesn’t heat those working by the stove, thinks White
Horizon. Everything here beautifully calculated,
logical and proper. No “existential riddles” that are
of no use to anyone.
Under one of the hoods he recognizes the yellow hair
instantly. His mouth puts out such a strong sigh of
relief that all bakery workers turn their heads, even
the one by the burning hot oven. The well known blue
eyes watch him from that yellow-haired head. IT IS HER!!! The most
beautiful girl in the world, if you asked him about
beauty, wipes her hands with her apron and runs over
to hug him. They hug at length to the cheering sounds
of everybody else at the bakery. They must have been
expecting him for long. He tries to speak and gives
up, and eventually manages to say: “Hello, I missed
you…”
Shining eyes, looking at each other with excitement.
Not knowing what to say first.
“Did you search me for long? How did you know where to
find me? Oh I have so many questions to ask you… so
good that you arrived, come over… you know what, I
still haven’t finished my morning duty, would you help
baking? …say, did you eat, drink, you need something?
You came a long way…”
“I’m alright, I had a backpack full of stuff. And I’d
be more than happy to help out finish today’s baking.
What do I do?”
 The Cave Tribe people habitually work with joy.
Sometimes they tell jokes and sometimes sing, at times
pass along the objects of work with funny swift moves,
like an aerobic dance or something. Sometimes they
simply chat merrily and smile at each other. But that
morning the expressions of joy reached new heights. It
all flowed with so much fun that White Horizon felt as
if he could stay for good.
When work was done they washed their hands and faces,
and only then the old friends had time for their first
heart to heart conversation in years. They are both
grownups in body and spirit, full of color and health,
they exchanged compliments. He told how he found her,
and how he had never lost hope all these years. She
told about her recovery with the help of the Cave
Tribe folks who had rescued her, and specially Masada
who cared for her for months and encouraged her.
“Masada is the mother of Petra, the girl who brought
you to the bakery. The most wonderful woman and the
most amazing personality in our desert.”
Liberty laughs at the funny bicycle but admires the
creativity and physical strength that brought White
Horizon so fast from the Pyramid to here. “Thanks,” he
says, “I simply traveled by sense so I didn’t have to
waste many days on getting to know the desert.”
White Horizon explains that he actually came to take
her home, says that she’s very much needed at home.
Needed much more than the people can say. The
conditions in the Pyramid are desperate. The
creativity and action drive of old times have been
replaced with a culture of television and drunkenness,
and society is rotting away quickly because nobody
cares what’s gonna happen.
Liberty does not hesitate for a moment. She totally
got the picture even though it was not a pleasant one.
That same day she says goodbye with kisses and warm
hugs and promises to return soon.
“She kissed so many people, what, all these are close
friends of hers?” contemplates White Horizon,
“Amazing!”
They put soft little furs on the bike so Liberty can
sit on the way home. They take dried food and water in
two packs. The journey home would be more complicated
and far more dangerous.
Tense Attraction in the Air
On the way home White Horizon finally finds the
courage to tell Liberty how much he loves her. She
tells him about the dance by the bonfire with that
sexy stranger, the subject of her wild infatuation.
White Horizon is not sure if he should come between
them… he comes close to her… away… close again… almost
kisses her lips, but eventually kisses her cheek
instead.
They sleep together in a deserted cave. When they come
close together to keep each other warm, she’s aroused,
reminded of her stranger hunk and falls into sadness.
She looks at the boy next to her, expects him to make
a pass at her but he dares not. He stays a mere
friend who tries to help. Trying to encourage her he
gets up and dances for Liberty – which makes her laugh
to tears – she has never seen a man of the Pyramid
tribes dance, except for one comedy on Love Festival;
and then, she relaxes and falls asleep with a smile.
White Horizon keeps watching her, wrapping her with a
bubble of deep and sincere love. Liberty feels his
attention, wakes up and looks deeply into his eyes
with astonishment. He looks at her softly, silent for
a long hour until they turn around and lay there back
to back. Liberty knows not what to do. She asks God
for advice and all she gets in response is: “All gonna
be alright sweetheart.”
 
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