This is the winning entry in the Free Cities Foundation’s 2020 short story competition, which invited writers to imagine everyday life in a Free Private City. It appears in the anthology Road to Liberty. What follows is the story as published.
The French façon de vivre had always attracted Geoffrey to Paris. If only there were no suffocating bureaucracy and no criminals who more and more take control of the city. What had attracted Geoffrey to London had been the pragmatic, yet socially clever way of Londoners. What a shame that the British overcautiousness with their ever-present bans on this and that excluded any scope for action. The relaxed and creative-inspiring atmosphere of the Westerners attracted Geoffrey to San Francisco. If only there wasn’t an air of affluent neglect at this place which rendered it less and less attractive each day – it put the city in chains which threatened to suffocate any trace of creativity. The Easterners’ attitude to ever reach for the stars attracted Geoffrey to New York City. But the scaffolding mania was but one of the symptomatic problems plaguing the city, thought Geoffrey.
Even if he could decide on one city, there is Josephine. Each of these cities is attractive in its own way. But he knows this is not enough. Both of them could never focus exclusively on the one feature that makes the respective city special. None of these features in isolation would satisfy the two of them. Maybe the typed note that he had discovered in one of those old book shops will help them. A shop that survives because the owner can afford it, not the other way around. However that may be. In any case, this was symptomatic for the passion with which the note had been written. “What if I told you that there is a place where you need not choose between the dreams of others but where you can shape your life as you please: not only on a small scale, but overall! Realizing your dreams comes with one condition only: do not put obstacles in the way of others pursuing their dreams when you try to make yours a reality. This may sound easy, but you wouldn’t be the first one to fail. Can you tackle this challenge? Then come, pay us a visit, and experience it first-hand. Just one more thing: we accept your request for an invitation only if it is typed, and the letter franked with five blue stamps. If you now wonder why, I promise: You will understand once we meet in person. Trust me! In pax and libertas, cordially yours, Customer Inquiry Service of Liberpax.” It had been a while since Geoffrey had last read such an extraordinary message – maybe he had never done so. But this place may perhaps be the solution to their problem and completely satisfy them. Was it too good to be true? It was worth a try, for sure!
Grandpa’s old typewriter had gotten dusty. Geoffrey fetched it out of an old chest that stood way back in the storeroom. He puffed strongly. This covered the small chamber in a cloud of dust. He had to cough. Once the cloud of dust had settled, he fetched a small stool and placed the little wooden boat folding table in front of it. He began typing: “Dear Customer Inquiry Service of Liberpax, I have discovered your note in an old book in a bookshop near my place. I do not know how long the note has been lying there and I hope (still) to be able to reach you via this avenue. My wife and I are on the look-out for a place that can combine what we value in Paris, London, New York City, and San Francisco – and can maybe go beyond it – without being plagued by their shady sites, the bureaucratic paralysis, interventionist overregulation, or institutional decay. Your message evokes the impression that not only do you know such a place but that you have contributed to creating it and are contributing daily to make it the place it is. I sincerely hope that the place which you describe still exists – if it has ever existed. My hopes may manifest the exasperation of someone who wants to maintain his dream in midst a world of decay. Perhaps I am writing to you to keep alive my hopes with this dream that you have described. If all this should turn out to be more than sheer daydreaming and both you and this place exist, it would be a huge honor for my wife and me to be allowed to visit you and this place. Longing strongly for this to be more than a mere dream, yours, Geoffrey X.” The table had trembled every time he had pressed the old keys of the typewriter. The tremor died away. The clickering sound of the stop faded. Into the envelope! Stamp. Blue. Five times. Franked. Into the mailbox. Sent. Now, it was time to wait.
Weeks had gone by, and Geoffrey had nearly forgotten the letter he had franked with five blue stamps when a man in black clothes came close to him in the pedestrian area, kept apace with him, and asked, “Five blue stamps? Typewriter-friend?” For a moment, Geoffrey was lost. He first suspected the man was insane. Flabbergasted, he looked at the man. The man hesitated for a moment, then he accelerated and was about to disappear in the crowd. Then the scales fell from Geoffrey’s eyes. “Wait!” he yelled and began to move faster. Without saying a word, the man gave him an envelope and added, “Be on time.”
Geoffrey was at one of the counters at Terminal C. With some despair he approached a stewardess. “Listen... I just cannot find this gate. Can you help me out?”
The stewardess examines the boarding pass for a while and asks back with a start, “You are aware, sir, that you cannot board your private jet here? Shall I call you a taxi that takes you to the private terminal?” Soon after, he is on the plane flying above the clouds. His travel companions are two gentlemen and a lady. They all seem to know each other – at least superficially. Geoffrey looks out of the window. The clouds clear and give way for a view on a paradisiacal headland. The machine was preparing to land.
Exiting the plane, Geoffrey for the first time exchanges some words with one of the gentlemen. “Is this this your first time here? Are you amongst those interested?” asks the gentleman.
“I do not know much about this place,” Geoffrey conceded.
“Nobody does, at the beginning. It is the feeling and the hope that there must exist something better than the ever-occurring compromises elsewhere. And even then you cannot trust, right?” explains the gentleman.
“That may well be true,” adds Geoffrey, who admires the paradisiacal palms and beaches all around them that they see on their ride towards their unknown destination with bus hybrid. “We’ve all been where you now are. But you will see: whatever you are looking for, you will find it here. There are those we call the tech achievers, there are those we call the nostalgic, those we call the nature lovers, those we call the empireists, those we call the players, those we call the intellectuals, and many more. For example, there also are the seekers – they are yet to find their place. But there also are hybrids who value several ways of living and pursue the objectives of different groups. Most groups have bundled together in their respective districts. But some value intermingling with people of other shades in mixed districts: in so-called Hybrid Zones. But also, those who live in a Special Interest Zone (SIZ), seldomly keep to themselves. It is easier to agree on fine-for-all neighbourhood rules with like-minded people. Usually, the result of this is that fewer compromises are necessary. For this reason, many prefer living in an SIZ. Lots of things are dealt with on the neighborhood level. Since everyone is free to choose, the services of the neighborhood administrations most often are of high quality. The service offers on the level of the city administration benefit from the outsourcing to many different service providers who compete with each other. But try to acclimate first. You’ll get to know the rest soon enough. I am sure: there will be the right thing for you. I need to leave now. Enjoy your stay in Possibilia.” So, Possibilia was the name of this place. A fitting name thought Geoffrey. What the gentleman had told sounded exciting. He felt his heart beating. It was racing. They had arrived. The gentleman went his way. They were in Possibilia.
They had arrived at a platform with huge tubes. They all led to different key junctions in the city. Geoffrey bought a ticket “Private Capsule – One Person.” In the capsule there was a couch on one side and a table on the other. In its middle, there was a big display placed on a telescope arm. The capsule offered a 360-degree panorama view. The tube itself was built entirely out of glass. The window front could either be switched to transparent mode on both sides, transparent from the inside, or darkened from both sides. The trip to the center was fast and short. The short glimpses Geoffrey could catch during the journey gave him the impression that he was traveling through the future, the past, and magical worlds simultaneously – in an absolutely positive sense. He was astonished. The vivid impressions etched themselves on his memory.
The center appeared more conventional and more centrally planned than the outskirts which he had just quickly glanced at. Here there was a huge boulevard that was lined on both sides with modern-elegant, organically built glass complexes. At the end of the spacious boulevard there was a big, free-standing glass building in front of which large metal letters spelled the word Possibilia. The space was surrounded by green areas. Yet he was sure that visiting the outskirts would be more interesting. Would he find a little Paris, a little London, a little New York City, or a little San Francisco there? After all the glimpses he caught, he is confident that he will find many districts that are to his liking and on top differ completely from the above-mentioned cities: something completely new, completely unknown, something that would captivate him in its own way. We will see, he thought, and entered another tube – this time one of a different company, as it seemed.
He had to write to Josephine and tell her what he had seen and experienced. He wrote that he believes this is the place where the two of them can find their happiness. He had first visited a district of the nostalgic. The nostalgic love districts with an historical flair. Accordingly, in some districts there are rules which prescribe a specific dress code, and the way facades must look – occasionally more and occasionally less strictly oriented at certain epochs (and sometimes it was rather imaginary fantasies which had informed the code). It was beyond doubt that Geoffrey was overwhelmed by the wealth of ideas and the aesthetical demands the nostalgic demonstrated. Some told him that they only had their second home here which they used to escape from everyday life. Geoffrey was able to relate to that. And it indeed felt like a trip to a magical wonderland that invites every seasoned man to daydream.
After visiting the nostalgic, he went to the tech achievers. The tech achievers are tech nerds who, moved by an entrepreneurial mind, love technology and create their little, futuristic place. Many of these futurists are transhumanists who attempt to employ diverse technological additions to compensate for weaknesses of their bodies and who want to enhance the performance of their body or their mind. Other tech addons offer comfort or entertainment. Not only their apartments, but their complete respective districts are transformed into smart homes and smart districts, respectively. All this while each of the districts lays different emphasis and implements different tech philosophies. Some districts eye comfort, others entertainment, and again others focus performance enhancement, optimization of infrastructure processes, or security.
A visit at the nature lovers gives a completely different picture: instead of busy tech fascination there is a simple, almost rural life. Naturalness, village flair, and slow movement are the maxims which emboss the lives of the people and describe it most accurately.
The empireists are not content with simplicity. They love the pompous. They want to build up business worlds and bequeath them to their offspring and posterity. They prefer business lunches at their golf clubs and forge ambitious plans. Their style is classicist and that of the Victorian British Empire. But having visited several districts of the empireists, Geoffrey constates that none equals the other and that these superficial descriptions do not do justice to the diversity and fascinating ambitions of the empireists.
And there are some who live parallel lives in one of the other districts. Many of the districts remind Geoffrey of London – a London as it must have been in its prime. The districts of the creatives remind Geoffrey of both Paris and San Francisco. The players seem to have reinvented the Broadway and Las Vegas. The seekers share their property between themselves and often live polyamorous lives. “Free love” and “psychonautical travels” are omnipresent keywords here. Intellectuals and scholars find a home between sumptuous libraries and interdisciplinary campus sites that, in their respective ways, transform their districts in unique places of learning and progress.
Here, he and Josephine will find a new home: this Geoffrey knows for sure. He is dying to share all his impressions with Josephine. What can you not find here? What dreams should remain unfulfilled in such a city? Nothing that cannot be dreamed of here; nothing that cannot be created here, he thought to himself. He had not been that much infatuated since he had met Josephine. His new sweetheart’s name was Possibilia. And his sweetheart was a free private city where everyone could live and find happiness according to her façon de vivre.