The Carbon Renaissance flier felt like a magic secret too precious for this world. Alex clutched her bag and slipped a hand inside to touch the paper, worried it might vanish. For once she didn’t reach for her phone or put in her earbuds. She gazed outside to the city, the layout that once felt mathematically precise now felt strangely perfect. The train softly screeched as it came to a stop, a noise she never noticed before.
Alex shifted out of her seat and exited the cabin, the flier now in hand. The bold, handwritten letters felt like an act of defiance, like a small crack in the machine-driven world around her. She brushed her thumb along an edge and winced as she felt a sting. Looking closer at the sides, she realized that the paper had been cut by hand leaving behind imperfect edges. A red bead began forming on her thumb, as if the flier itself wanted to remind her of something real– something alive.
Jess was already outside her apartment ready to greet Alex. Her outfit was impossible to miss, a riot of patterns and colors that shouldn’t mix but remarkably did. Each piece pulled from a different decade, and most importantly human-made. She always stitched her apparel together in striking ways with a signature style she referred to as “carbon chic”.
“Alex! Come here, you little muffin!” Jess called, arms wide. Alex grinned and walked into her embrace, a gesture that felt oddly nostalgic in a world so machine-guided.
They stepped into the apartment and Alex was transported to a different time. Lining the walls were hand-drawn sketches and paintings, each capturing moments of human interactions– couples laughing, groups splashing each other at a beach, friends playing games. Some of them were solo individuals presented stoically, or, on occasion, artistically in the nude. Several bookcases presented manually bound books featuring fantastical stories, some typed with typewriters, but more often written by hand.
Jess made her way into the kitchen, already with water boiling. “I hope you’re ready for my tea. Chip wouldn’t dare make something like this,” she teased. Jess never let her guests add their own sugar, and Alex found her tea to be too sweet– something a machine-made drink would never allow– but there was something about it she liked. It was a human touch to be too sweet, and a human desire to want something too sweet.
“Too much?” Jess asked.
Alex smiled, “no, it’s just right.” She went on to take another sip.
Jess motioned to the flier Alex set on the table, asking, “What is that you have been carrying around?”
“A guy gave it to me on the train yesterday,” Alex said, holding it out. Her voice rose with excitement, “It’s for some kind of Carbon Renaissance event.”
Jess’s face lit up, her eyes wide with recognition. “The Carbon Renaissance,” she murmured, her eyes running over the promotion again. “I used to be a part of their events, you know? I still sell my sketches and clothes at their markets sometimes.”
Jess’s expression changed, her voice softening. “Back in the 30s, it wasn’t just a quarterly event. It was life, art, food, banter, barter, community– everything it is to be human. It was an act of rebellion against a world becoming influenced by machines. It was magical. People would pour their hearts into it every day to make sure human works were still being produced.”
Alex’s enthusiasm bubbled over. “Aunt Jess, we have to go! I have to see it!”
“Alright, alright! After our tea we can head that way and check it out.” Jess said, a smile returning to her face.
Alex quickly finished her tea and began preparing to leave the apartment. Jess slowly sipped on her cup, taking great time to get ready while watching Alex’s impatience grow as she waited by the door.
“You’re so much in a hurry you forget to enjoy the moment,” Jess said with a soft chuckle as she got up from her seat.
Alex grabbed her bag to pull out her phone. She asked, “Ready?”
“Not quite. You won’t be taking that where we’re going.” Jess replied.
“Wait, why not?” Alex asked.
“The Carbon Renaissance does not allow phones or electronics at their events. It’s part of the experience, a return to human connection. They have a few allowances but they are rare.” Jess crossed the room to a small closet near the door, opening a box mounted on the wall. “Give it here.”
“What if I need it? Eva might message me.” Alex said showing some hesitation.
“Oh little muffin. We’ve talked about Eva before, she can wait for your message just like a human girlfriend could. She’ll be excited to hear about your adventures when we’re back.” Jess said with a soft laugh, placing her hand on Alex’s shoulder for comfort.
Alex reluctantly handed over her phone. She couldn’t recall a time she was ever prohibited from carrying it. Jess could see the concern, slowly placing it into the box then softly saying, “It’ll be okay, really. I promise!” Afterwards, she began rummaging through a drawer within the closet to pull out a thin plastic card.
“What is that?” Alex asked.
“It’s my debit card– to pay for things with.” Jess explained, “They used to be twice the size when I was younger, but the old credit unions that the Carbon Renaissance uses still create them.” She smiled, putting it into her purse, “They’re relics, just like me.”
“How will we be getting there without phones?” Alex asked. Phones were required to unlock the autonomous vehicles that chauffeured the residents around.
“By a taxi, of course– a human-driven one, that is.” Jess said, dialing a number with a landline phone she had in her apartment, probably the last one in the city.
Jess and Alex rode silently in the taxi as it sped beyond the city limits of Grand Rapids. For Alex, leaving the city was a novelty; everything she needed had always been neatly within its bounds. As the suburbs came into view, the shift was a jarring juxtaposition of society. The meticulous precision carving out highrises and green spaces was replaced by rows and rows of trailers with sparse patches of dry, yellow parks. In some neighborhoods the mobile homes were cramped along barbed fences surrounding towering factories that dominated the horizon with steam chimney stacks rising into the skies above.
Alex stared out the window at all the curious new sights. She said, “It’s strange. The buildings that could look out this way have no view of the suburbs. It’s like their backs are turned on it.”
Jess glanced at her with a faint smile giving a tinge of sadness. “It’s by design, muffin. Our city, it represents a future, and not everyone wants to remember the past.”
Alex looked back out the window. The suburbs weren’t polished, but the homes had an undeniably human charm to them. The trailers were uniform in that there were only so many makes and models, but they were unique in that each had its own aesthetic. Colors ranged in hues and palettes that in a collection looked messy, but on its own had a captivating appeal that represented the family that dwelled within. Choices in furniture, fabrics, colors, patterns, all creating a single design that could not be found anywhere else around.
“Look at that one, it’s your favorite color pink.” Jess said to Alex pointing out a trailer they were passing.
It was Alex’s favorite pink. It was just like the color painted all over her room, but it wasn’t like a piece of the palette that it felt like in town.
“It’s an original choice here.” Alex thought aloud.
“Exactly, muffin! Everything in the city, we’re bombarded with suggestions. How much time do we get to ask what we want out of all the options available to us. The people here in the suburbs do, but it comes at a price.” Jess said.
The light signal turned red forcing the taxi to stop at an intersection. At a corner where a factory stood, a small crowd of people lined up outside. One of them carried a picket sign. Alex caught the eyes of the woman holding the sign, “Don’t optimize me out of a job!”
“I don’t understand. There are other jobs out there. What is stopping them from getting out?” Alex asked, subtly pointing to the direction of the protest.
“It’s not that simple. To go to the city means to let the machine learn from you. For some people, that means to steal something from them, a part of their soul even.” Jess said.
“So they’re stuck.” Alex said.
Jess nodded slowly, “To move forward, they believe they’d have to give a part of themselves to the machine.”
The taxi slowed before pulling into a large parking lot and letting them out. Jess paid with her debit card before the taxi drove off and parked nearby.
“We made it!” Alex jumped with excitement.