Anton Soliman - The Great Ski-Lift

- You’re quite right, but according to the professor's research, over time the Great Ski Lift system has become overly complex. Let me explain: it seems the passes in circulation are now thousands, one for every village part of the Great Ski Lift, with hundreds of new ones made every year. On the other hand, there is barely any security around due to spiralling management costs.

Oskar tried remembering what controllers asked for when he used to go skiing years back. It had been far too long since last hitting the slopes. Maybe it had been this to draw him to Valle Chiara. A need to rekindle the parts of his being tied to skiing, which had been dormant a long time.

The manager opened a drawer and pulled out a card: - Down here in the valley, we've printed passes too.

- Is that legal?

- Not really, according to the Mayor's consultants. This document has been drafted so as to not violate the law. It's just a pass bearing the name of the village.

Oskar examined the coloured pass: - I can remember the magnetic strips are scanned automatically when you access the ski facilities.

- Apparently no longer the case, the upkeep on the machines is expensive. As a result, the Great Ski Lift is fairly light on inspections. There would be too many controllers and a multitude of devices scattered across most of the Northern Hemisphere.

The manager explained how Valle Chiara had only issued multi-year passes. In practice, a permanent transit document: the equivalent of first class for using the Great Ski Lift.

Oskar got up. The project's logic was flawed and the whole thing too sketchy. Yet he felt comforted by the revelations: the ski station itself was -experimental-.

He made a further observation: - In a nutshell, the former Mayor wanted to build an illegal cable car on the Great Ski Lift's remotest line with the aim of drawing peripheral traffic to valley. A borderline connection that over time would eventually embed itself into the Great Network. This is the project in broad strokes, am I right? Since this experiment is just beginning, we don't know yet if the Mayor's gamble will pay off. Based on what you've already said, initially there may a sporadic increase in visits to the valley. Presumably people who got lost or those fleeing like the Asians, who would vanish into the woods after reaching the station's forecourt. What still doesn't make sense is that the whole thing only works if the whole set-up remains underground. Is that not contradictory? A tourist area by its very definition cannot remain secret.

- Your logic is flawless, engineer Zerbi, but the Mayor felt it was the only solution. In fact, the illegal migrants at the start would eventually be part of the very appeal, based on his calculations.

Looking straight into Oskar's eyes, he ventured: - Do you have any idea how many people gravitate around the Great Ski-Lift?

- I don't have the foggiest.

- Well, millions of people, and not just tourists. The Circuit has now become a giant network without any known boundaries. Rumours abound about alien groups unknown to the shareholders forming. Transnational consortia are being founded, which some are calling -Super-Clusters-. Something immense, where actual Alpine skiing is fast becoming an irrelevant detail, perhaps a pure facade. According to the Mayor's project, you just need to encroach on the Circuit as much as possible to generate flows and wealth downstream.

The manager paused a moment, then mused: - Even if at first, the potential clients were just lost travellers in the mountains!

- Thanks for the info but I'd like to reflect a moment first...and see if it's worth climbing the plateau.

I understand you being unsure, it would be a demanding experience, and at least that's what the Mayor thought before becoming the first ever user to try launching himself into the Great-Ski Lift.

- So the Mayor left using this very link? - asked Oskar in a serious tone.

- Quite so, he went up with a pass slung around his neck and was never seen again. Although, he admitted never wanting to return to Valle Chiara.

Oskar shook the manager's hand as he got up to leave. It had stopped raining and a light wind blowing from the woods. He looked up and saw an opaque sun shaped disc move from one cloud to the next.

The conversation with the manager had completely bowled him over. The story that led him here was starting to gain credibility: by chance his friend came across Valle Chiara's cable car after descending from a mountain station. He must have followed the Grand Circuit at first, before drifting away from the slopes, and skiing from one shelter to another, ended up in the experimental Valla Chiara plant.

Time for Oskar to make a decision. He was here for the Christmas holidays, not some wild adventure. He needed to have fun and use his body, good reasons for finding a real winter sports complex. No point staying in Valle Chiara, the place was nothing but a backwater spot in the Sierra landscape, a dead zone. The strange story behind the ski station, created by a visionary or crazy Mayor, was none of his concern. What did he care if the station was not legally connected to the Great Ski Lift? Or that Valle Chiara was a backwater village trying to puts it name on the tourist map?

From what he understood, the manager would activate the cable car taking him to the plateaus using the experimental line, at his own risk and danger.

He'd felt his enthusiasm ebbing away ever since arriving. Yet he'd arrived buzzing with energy, and for a moment seemed to have even entered a new life, far from the grey City.

It was cold, more clouds filled with rain loomed on the horizon. His best bet was to seek shelter in the piazza's bar, the one suggested by the innkeeper's daughter Clara.

He entered the venue with some difficulty, the small glass door scraping against the wooden floor. Inside, some of the locals sat around three tables: two groups playing cards while the third listened to an old man speaking in dialect. Everyone was wearing a hat despite the huge terracotta stove in a corner almost concealed by smoke.

The smiling bartender pointed out a free table. While sipping on a glass of warm wine, Oskar thought the experimental connection could hardly be a viable alternative for the Christmas holidays. It now seemed obvious his friend had spun a simplified, albeit not false, picture of the situation. There were possible problems along the road, which he'd not even considered. This was far from an all-inclusive holiday as organized by tourist agencies. This particular outing was completely free form and required a determined mind-set.

Yet, his own ravaged being was in complete turmoil: a consequence of living inconsistently for years.

His position at Valle Chiara had become paradoxical. The initial friendly information provided was inconsistent, at least insofar as advice on a winter holiday can be. Besides, he could not pretend photographic knowledge for places not even visited yet. His expectations had grown to the point of being cumbersome. What did he expect from this holiday? What had generated his initial enthusiasm? He couldn't expect to arrive in a trendy tourist village, much less to find a place with all modern conveniences. He had probably imagined something similar to Valle Chiara, but once here, it all became a blur. The -State of Things- was already starting to fade......

When in the Present, life's original colours appear in those paused beats, the intermediate zones between one event and the next.

Yesterday, when faced with the cable car, he felt a twinge of fear and an overwhelming, seemingly insolvable loneliness. In some ways, he had only considered the background, a kind of blank canvas on which to draw Christmas images. Without taking heed of his hunger for being Recognized and Welcomed by his peers. After the rituals he could then divest his own Structure, like a heavy backpack, and let himself be absorbed by the scenery. The mountain area expecting him would erupt in a dance to welcome his arrival.