Sound No Trumpet Before You.

The wanderer awoke to a loud, squeaky noise. He opened his eyes and found his cell door wide open. He got up in a hurry, rubbed his eyes violently to make sure he was actually awake - and yes, the wind was blowing through the entire makeshift jailhouse, suggesting open doors and windows all through the building. He pulled down his hood to hide his face and to get closer and investigate the premises. And see, someone had left all doors open and unguarded.

He snuck out and crouched down as he, silent as he could, went out of the detainment centre, only to find empty, dusty streets. Not one soul to be heard or seen. The sunlight was frying both his back and neck, and it seemed to do the same to all the outer walls of all the houses he could see. They were bleak and tired, in need of a couple of strokes of paint. The asphalt road had been cracking and drying out for what must have been a long time - he found one crack he could fit close to his whole foot inside, as he walked towards what had to be the downtown area.

He could see one gigantic, domelike building in the middle of the cluster of what was probably stores and other service spots, and began walking along the road while picking his brain for a reason why this town had turned into an empty one, a ghost town - in the middle of a scorching hot day. He heard a dog barking and feet clattering - and he curled down a bit and made himself smaller, hiding from potential malicious, ambushing attacks.

"Mister! Mister! You're back!", a young voice screamed out from behind him. He turned around lightning fast, and there was a kid of nine or ten, running at him. Short-haired, it was impossible to say if the kid was a boy or a girl. It held a small, snow-white sort of terrier on a leash, eyes and snout barely visible in the fur in its face.

He straightened up and stood there, confused, while frantically searching for anyone watching them from any of the surrounding houses, but he let the kid come up to him, a few feet between them. The dog had stopped barking and tried dragging itself free from it's "chain", seemingly eager to smell the hooded one.

"Listen, kid. I think you are mistaking me for someone else. Now, go home - I have business to attend to", he said, waving her back to where she came from, and he turned away and started walking again.

"Wait up, mister", she squeaked and caught up to him. "I know your name, mister - it's Pe...", she blurted out, only held back by the hooded one now covering her mouth to shut her up with one hand, and clenching her arm with the other. He got down on his knees to the girl's eye level and whispered to her.

"I don't know exactly which name you were going to say", he said, in a hushed tone. "But in a freak case - if, and just if you were going to say my actual name... Do not say it. Someone could be listening", he warned her. He scouted their immediate surroundings, all the while talking. The girl nodded eagerly, and the hooded one gently removed his hand. "Now... What do you want?", he asked.

"I was just happy to see you, mister", she said, naively, as only a young child could.

He was all the more confused and stood back up on his feet. "I'm not the one you think I am, miss", he firmly assured. "By the way, where are your parents?", he asked, unfolding all his curiosity and general confusion.

"Well, they are at the Complex, dummy", she laughed. "They go there when it gets too hot to be outside", she said and pointed at the behemoth of a building that was situated in the middle of the town, some kilometres away. It was as if it was the ruler of all the "regular" buildings, as on a throne high above them.

He shielded his eyes from the sun, which now was hanging directly above that Dome-thingy. "Thank you, miss", he said, and did a gentlemanly gesture as to tip his cap, and continued his excursion.

"I am going there now, I just had to get the dog. We can go there together", she raised her voice to say. He stopped walking and turned to her.

"No thank you, miss. I want to see the sights on my own", he said and tried being friendly, while, gently, letting her down. The girl walked back to her house in disappointment.

After some walking in inhumane conditions, temperature-wise - he was finally approaching an area which was not a suburb - no lawns, fences, robot mowers, or stupidly humongous windows. Mostly cafés with drinks and food he could not even pronounce, as well as charging stations for those electric vehicles. No soul to be seen there either, he concluded, dumbfounded.

His clothing was proving to be a great disadvantage, fur sleeves were obviously not great for wiping away perspiration. He decided to seek out the gigantic Dome that was towering over every other building in this city. Half an hour to walk.

He got closer to the Dome and close enough, then he hid behind the corner of some cafe-like spot that made something called "mint liquorice litchi light milkshakes", whatever those were. There were yoga mats inside, and the whole place reeked of sweat and... Well, minty sweat.

The Dome was covered in solar panels, and had thousands of small propellers on the roof, probably to harness the power of the wind. Which there was none of at the particular moment, to his great frustration. There was a huge entrance, with majestic marble pillars on either side, and a velvet carpet rolled all the way out on the curb in front. No windows or other exits that were visible from outside, and no one to greet and welcome guests, or keep out trespassers. Whatever was going on in there, had to be open to anyone who wanted to enter. And enter he did, somewhat restrained.

He got to a long, electric escalator, and he stepped on, trying not to get his shoes or any of his furry attire caught in any moving parts. He pulled his hood down in his face again, and as he got to the bottom of the escalators, an oasis opened up in front of him. There was a circular gathering point in the middle, full of chairs set up in a ring-like form, with some sort of circular stage right in the absolute middle. Some people were sitting on some chairs talking, relaxed.

What had to be sunlight, beamed down from a ceiling that was supposed to be closed off. Chill reggae was playing all through the gathering space, and some were working tirelessly, though cheerfully, with setting up stools and microphones on the stage. Along the outer, cornerless walls, there were palm trees in sand, small convenience stores, places to eat - and friendly faces, eager to provide service for their customers.

He stood there, at the top of the escalators, all of a sudden realizing he was sticking out like a sweaty, smelly, fur-clothed sore thumb. Everyone else was wearing looser, "summer-friendly" outfits. He spotted a small place that looked like it was selling clothes, but he had to sneak behind a stall selling ice cream to get there. He tripped in a wire, rounded a corner, and got into the store.

The store had no other people in it, and he ripped a pair of beige shorts down from a rack. They were made of some fabric similar to sackcloth, and he also got hold of a Hawaiian style shirt that was way too big for him. He slipped into the changing room, changed swiftly, got out, dumped his old outfit in a garbage bin, and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Hey, mister! Are you shopping?", the little girl from before said to him, overjoyed that she found him again. The dog barking, smelling his ankle.

"Shush, little girl", he said, sternly, putting his index finger on his lips, signing for her to be quiet.

"This is my parents' shop! Do you have points to buy those clothes?", she asked him, innocently.

A tall, crooked man entered the shop and locked eyes with his potential customer.

"Good day, mister", he politely uttered. "Are you looking to get something new to wear this fine afternoon?", he asked, lifting a small device to have a puff of some sort of smoke. He blew the smoke away from both his customer and his merchandise.

"Hello, sir. Yes, most certainly", he said, trying to imitate the polite tone that had been set for this interaction. "How much are these?", he asked intently, pointing to both the shirt and the shorts he was wearing.

"Those are 60 points, mister. But I will give you a 'new customer's offer' for 45 points. Now, how about it? Are you interested?", the shopkeeper asked, lovingly and carefully stroking the top of his daughter's head, who was clinging to his leg, while holding the leash with their dog in the other end.

"Listen, sir, I am new here in this town. How do I get these points, exactly?", he wondered, nervously hoping for some friendly advice.

The shopkeeper ran one hand through his beard. "I'll tell you what. Go over to that stand over there", he said, pausing to point to a spot that had a glaring, yellow front sign, reading 'Hotpoint', "and then come back here. Just ask to be registered, and they will give you 100 points for free", he said, adjusting his suspenders a little bit. "Just keep on the clothes you are wearing, but do come straight back here, please", he said, retaining his polite and friendly tone.

Bewildered, he wandered out of the store, walking around the ring of chairs on his way to get some spendable currency. People were walking by him, not taking any particular notice. Then he felt a strong hand authoritatively clutching his shoulder, stopping him right where he was walking.