Kevin lay in bed, the sounds of birds chirping outside woke him from a dreamless sleep. His body ached all over and his joints felt stiff. He yawned and stretched out his body as he got up.
He looked around his new room. It was modestly sized and contained an ebony dresser, a small mirror and a window that overlooked the courtyard.
He walked over to the dresser and opened it. Inside were several pairs of clothing, all of them suitable for the local climate. He took a pair of tan linen pants and a white linen shirt and put them on.
Once done, he looked at the mirror and brushed his short hair into place before putting on a pair of laceless leather shoes and exiting his room.
Kevin then walked down the stairs and out into the courtyard.
The sun was bright. The courtyard was filled with flowers and palm trees and the smell of cedar hung heavy in the air as Kevin walked across the grounds.
It had been two weeks since his arrival at the University of Myami and by now his daily routine had mostly fallen into place. Every morning, Kevin awoke at dawn and took a walk around the courtyard before breakfast. Usually breakfast was served at 8am, however, the university officials wanted to separate him from the students and lower faculty as much as possible so he would usually eat an hour early. The university also arranged for lunch and dinner to be directly brought to Kevin so he wouldn't go to the dining hall during the day.
After breakfast, he headed to the library where his tutor Mr. Felds rigorously taught him Yankish. The language was difficult to learn, since although it was similar to English, it had many unique rules and pronunciations that had to be memorized.
A few days ago, when Kevin complained about Yankish being difficult to learn, Mr. Felds had "politely" explained to him that the problem was not Yankish, but how Silicon English was inconsistent and incoherent with its grammar and structure. He then "humbly educated" Kevin on how Yankish was, in fact, superior to Silicon English due to its and coherent and logical structure.
The dialect he was learning was called "Barracks Yankish" which was considered the easiest dialect to learn and understand.
Once finished with language lessons, Kevin ate lunch and then spent the next few hours being studied by various researchers and scholars who, with Dyson's insistence and assistance, interrogated him relentlessly. They wanted to know all about his time and experiences. The questions they asked ranged from simple ones about food and weather to more complex ones about government structure and technology. The contents of each conversation were written down by Dyson, who likely intended to preserve them for the future..
By the time dinner was served, he had grown tired from the interrogations and asked to be excused from more questioning for the day.
After dinner, he walked to the library and studied Yankish on his own for a few more hours. When it became sunset, Kevin ended his day and headed back to his dorm room. As Kevin walked, he reflected on his life over the past 2 weeks. As Dyson promised, Kevin had been given a life of comfort and safety and the staff was most kind and respectful.
He couldn't deny that he appreciated his lifestyle here, however, there were things bothering him.
Kevin couldn't stop thinking about how his fall had stopped. No one he had the ability to speak with would give him an explanation and just expected him to accept that he wouldn't get an answer. Kevin couldn't suppress his curiosity and desperately wanted to know more about what happened, just what had stopped his fall? Magic? Telekenisis? Maybe he was delusional and nothing had happened.
After his 900 year slumber, the world had changed a lot, mostly for the worse in his opinion. Was it possible that people with extraordinary power and abilities now existed?
He thought back to the events of the climb. Immediately after he levitated back up, he saw Dyson's face covered in blood. The words he'd said to Kevin after the fact also made it undeniable that he had something to do with Kevin's levitation incident.
And if Dyson had powers, what about others who participated in the climb like Clay?
While he studied Yankish, he kept his eyes open for more information on this subject.
Aside from that, there were more things that nagged at him.
Kevin's stay at the university was dull. Many of the conveniences of modern life seemed to have vanished during the 900 years he'd been asleep. Every day, Kevin wept internally at the permanent loss of his cell phone and television. When he wasn't bored, Kevin felt isolated, both from other people and the world at large. The university grounds were beautiful, but seeing them every day had ruined their appeal.
It didn't help that the only people Kevin could talk to were aging professors who only wanted to ask him about questions related to the Silicon age.
One thing that helped Kevin feel less alone was the time he spent with Clay, who had by default become his closest friend over the past two weeks. The two would talk and spend time together in the library or the courtyard, but Kevin always felt like Clay was forcing himself to spend time with him, had some kind of hidden agenda, or even worse was being told to keep an eye on him.
Even if he didn't quite know why, Kevin always felt a little uneasy around Clay. Despite that, he was grateful to have someone his age he could talk to in his own language, someone who had been through a lot more and had some idea what was going on in the world.
Kevin reached the door to his dorm and opened it, stepping inside.
As he entered, he saw a young woman sweeping the floor. She had tan skin and wore a simple black dress and apron. She also wore a straw hat, which was secured with a leather strap. The woman looked up and smiled, saying in a thick Myamian accent, "Good morning"
Kevin raised his right brow and said, "Morning?" in Yankish
Morning? It's almost sunset!
The woman continued, "You anything need?"
Kevin stared in silence as he processed what she had said, then replied in Yankish, "No"
The woman nodded and returned to her sweeping. He had intended to ask if she was the dorm maid he was told he'd get, but gave up after not being able to put the sentence together coherently. His Yankish was coming along, but it still needed work.
As he walked up the stairs, he looked back briefly. As far as he could tell, he was the only person who lived in the dorm building. Why would he need a dedicated maid?
It made no sense.
As he reached his room, Kevin walked in and saw his bed was neatly made and his belongings were organized on the dresser.
The window was open, allowing Kevin to see the courtyard below and the city beyond.
The lamps of the city were starting to turn on as the sun set over the city, giving the world below a purple and orange tint.
Kevin yawned and walked over to the window to close it. As he did, he felt a wave of loneliness wash over him.
Tomorrow, he was planning to ask for permission to leave the university premises. He wanted to see and explore Myami and, frankly; he felt like he'd go insane if he stayed cooped up in the university any longer.
Kevin moved to the bathroom attached to his room and brushed his teeth with a small wooden toothbrush that he had been provided and toothpaste which tasted like charcoal and mint.
He looked in the mirror, his body looked good, his meals and daily walks had helped him recover most of the muscle and fat lost during his cryogenic sleep, and now he looked much healthier than he did two weeks ago.
After brushing, he slipped under the covers of the bed and closed his eyes, trying to sleep the best he could.
The sounds of the dorm maid moving around and cleaning the building had become a constant background noise, so much so that it had become soothing. Though it was strange that the sounds were always close by and never seemed to move away, Kevin soon drifted off to sleep.