"If the three of you ignore my advice and make the dangerous journey here, I will do my best to welcome and support you. Regardless, I implore you and your father to stay away, stay away, and forget California, at least for the next few years. I love you and I wish I got to know you better Lucy, you and your brother, I pray your father is able to deliver this letter to you safely. I pray I never see you again."
"Love, Uncle Fred"
Kevin placed the letter down and stared at the ceiling, processing what he read. The words painted a vivid image of what the world was like as everything came crashing down, disquieting Kevin's heart. He thought to his parents, who must have been alive when the collapse happened. Had they died natural deaths like he'd been telling himself all this time, or did they meet a more violent, twisted fate? Kevin's eyes teared up as he pictured his parents starving or being slaughtered and eaten by the desperate mobs.
He sighed. He was 900 years too late to do anything about it. All he could do was take solace in the fact he didn't witness it and could only make futile guesses. Aside from the more disturbing parts, the letter itself was interesting. While it almost certainly wasn't from the Silicon Age, no one in their right mind back then would send a letter when they could text, call, or email, there were aspects of the writing such as the text acronyms and the keyboard smile which suggested that the author had some experience with Silicon age technology.
With that said, Kevin had no clue what the "Age of Judges" was, so he couldn't really comment on the letter outside of these minor details, but it piqued his curiosity. He wanted to read more like it, if only to get an insight into how his world ended.
He yawned again and turned in for the night.
The next morning, after breakfast and Yankish lessons, he met Professor Dyson in the library.
Dyson, with his usual smile, greeted, "Good morning, how are you?"
Kevin replied, "Fine, here's your letter back."
Kevin handed Dyson the papers.
The professor scanned the pages and said, "Thank you, now onto business. Did you have any insights regarding this document?"
"Not really. I don't know enough about history to really say anything about it, but the acronyms and symbols looked like they were important."
"Acr.. oo..nymss?"
Kevin's eyes widened. "You don't know what acronyms are?"
"This Silicon English word is unfamiliar to me. Could you explain the concept?"
Kevin pondered for a minute before explaining, "It's what you put down when you don't want to write a long set of words and want to save time when communicating-"
"Oh, a Shortem! Where do you see those? I've never heard of any being identified in this text. Can you show me?"
Dyson handed over the letter, allowing Kevin to show him where he found "lol."
"This means laugh out loud. Normally, people would use it while texting on their phones or some type of electric device, so seeing it written down felt odd. None of the content feels like something that a person from my time would've made, but I think the author probably had a phone at some point in his life."
Dyson took the letter back and flipped through its pages.
"You said something about symbols."
"Yeah, the smile he drew is the kind people would usually make using computer keyboards."
Dyson nodded and said, "This is incredible information. I'll make note of it right away! Thank you for your help. I look forward to working with you again in the future."
As Dyson turned to leave, Kevin asked, "Am I going to be meeting with someone today? It's been a while since I've talked to anyone for you."
During his first few days at the University of Myami, Kevin would constantly speak with academics and researchers at Dyson's request, but now they grew rarer by the day.
Dyson replied, "No, most of the people interested in seeing you as soon as possible have. People who live a significant distance away would have to make travel arrangements to get to Myami, which won't happen for a while, as the news of your existence hasn't been spread to most academic institutions."
Before exiting, he added, "In a week, I have a physical examination lined up for you, but aside from that, you'll mostly be free… Also, make sure you're careful when you leave the campus, we wouldn't want you to get hurt. Would we?"
He knows!
In hindsight, it wasn't surprising at all that Dyson knew about his regular trips away from the University after all, he never made any real attempt to conceal his activities. After studying Yankish for three hours, Kevin left the library looking out onto the wide palm tree lined campus. He briefly considered trying to check Carlos's place again, but the rumbling of thunder forced him to drop the idea. He walked back to his dorm, planning to keep studying Yankish after a nap.
***
Crash!
The gloomy sky made threats of rain, failing to prevent the denizens of Little Havana from going about their business. Although the street battles and mass arrests from the previous nights were still fresh in people's memories, the slow release of those found guilty of illegal religious practice had calmed people's nerves along with the constant patrols of soldiers looking for hostile judges and maintaining order. Oddly, the occasional Ayisyen passerby could be seen, singled out by their distinctive dark skin color, which was unusual amongst their Myamian counterparts.
Normally, they didn't dare enter the community due to the animosity Myamians had for them. In the entire city, Ayisyen could only be seen in substantial numbers in Lemo Siti, otherwise known as Little Haiti, the docks, where many found employment as laborers, and the downtown.
Deep inside Little Havana, a group of soldiers surrounding men and women wearing white jumpsuits with brown stripes watched as a recently deceased man was hung from a noose set up a day ago. The corpse was stiff, its skin waxy and pale. It was still dressed in long red robes which marked it as a former priest of Bendici y Paz. The corpse's hands were nailed and tied onto a long wood sign and positioned so that it appeared as if it were being held up. It read "I sacrifice to illegal deities. Join me!" in Yankish and Cubano so that the Myamian community would understand the meaning.
About 300 feet down the street on another noose, another corpse hung holding a sign that said "I disobeyed the judge suppression act of 2775. Look at me!"
All along the streets, similar fruits of victory were displayed so that all could witness the successes of the federal crackdown on judges and occultists.
The echoing of gunfire continued throughout the next night, regardless.