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Sci-fi Novel - The Dream Artist - Part 12


last yearBusy5 min read


Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11

Part 12

The weather was dark in the daytime, and the rain began to snack in large drops. Air and ground traffic was unusually calm. We decided to use our capsule bikes with the anxiety of not finding a proper space where our air vehicles could land. We stopped an old cab to take us to the garage where our capsule bikes were located. ” I can take you to where you want to go without your motorcycles for a discount," said the self-controlled taxi.

“In recent years, it has become difficult to distinguish who is who and who is natural,” said Peri.

I said, ”the one with the soul is natural."

“Do you believe in spirits?” she asked me.

”I want to believe that human consciousness and experience cannot be imitated."

We sent a message to our capsule bikes and told them to wait for us at the parking lot in front of the garage. These bikes, which have been popular over the last decade, were able to maintain their balance on two wheels. Thus, it was possible to offer an utterly closed interior to the users, as the requirement to place the feet on the landing and boarding had been eliminated. Conventional motorcyclists did not accept these vehicles as motorcycles but as two-wheel cars. However, these criticisms did not prevent the spread of capsule bikes, which combine the stiffness, fuel economy and easy parking with the comfort and safety of a car. When we rode our bikes, the showers were hard, and although our headlights were on, we barely saw the road.

From the motorcycle's walkie-talkie, I said to Peri, “I love the weather so much, I don't want to waste it by seeing an eccentric painter.”

The asphalt, which had absorbed the sun's heat before, sprayed steam under the influence of rain. In the twilight, even the roofs of the apartments and skyscrapers were steaming.

“At the expense of extending our way, we can climb to the spiral tower in Taksim and watch Istanbul in the rain and fog,” said Peri.

“Good idea,” I said.

“We're going to the spiral tower, you take control,” I said to my capsule motorbike. The road was secluded, and my capsule bike was as fast as I felt in my gut. The huge raindrops that hit the glass surrounding the motorcycle were pouring back in lines. Behind these lines of drops, a dark and hazy Istanbul was flowing out of my sight.

I was enjoying a panoramic view of Istanbul from the spiral tower, which was set up to allow people to view the city in their vehicles. I suddenly thought of my mother saying, “You like to watch the city from the hills like you like to look at people from the top, instead of watching like an ox, you have to go into life and live.” I humbled, “it's not for me to go into life and live.”

“Did you say something,” said Peri on the motorcycle's radio.

I said, “I'm so hungry, we'd better eat something.”

We parked our bikes side by side with their noses facing out, as we first preferred to watch the historical peninsula direction in the tower. A mini waiter quadcopter flew in and approached for service.

I said,” I want a toast with ketchup and mayonnaise to me and the bike next to me." I've been sympathetic to these flying devices, like a large tray with a propeller all over them. On the radio, I asked Peri about her drink. “And we want two cups of tea,” I added. The torrential rain was a little lighter, and the dark clouds ranged where the sky converged with the horizon. The fog created by the vapors from the roofs, and the sun rays floating in small bundles from the dark clouds were presenting a surreal image on the historical peninsula. The minarets of Hagia Sophia and Sultanahmet mosque and the towers of Topkapı Palace seemed to be the remnants of an ancient civilization that had already been left behind in the twilight. On the historical peninsula there was no Zeppelin used for the tourists; due to their painful history of accidents, a temporary flight ban was introduced as a precaution against the danger of lightning. When I heard the buzz out of the mini quadrant propellers beside me, I lowered the side window of the motorcycle. I bought my toast and drink, paid for it, told the quadcopter waitress to take the rest to the next motorbike. In the meantime, the tower made a slight turn in the direction of the clock, now entered the area of the Golden Horn. Now the sky was illuminated by lightning, and shaken with thunder. I said,” I think the real fun is starting now."

"Painter C. sent a message, the sooner we get there, the better it will be, " said Peri.

"Since our stomachs are filled, let's go and see him."

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