“They will be mankind’s last fortresses. Our castles, if you’d like. Though I caution you; even a castle may yet fall, should the guards be less than vigilant.” - final paragraph of Proposal#13421, commonly known as Arcology Accommodation, published in 2023

The Vänern Arcology was smaller than Martin Soleri thought. The sudden twilight he and his Deputy had entered held the shape of an elongated square, but even so, rumors had blown the size of mankind’s last redoubts out of proportion. He looked back, spotting the edge where the sunlight stopped and shadow began.

“And the arrows will blot out the sky,” he mused, but not too loud. It wouldn’t do to upset the Deputy sent to guide him.

His eyes roamed over the surroundings instead; moving over the re-forested slopes and the edge of blue on the horizon. A century ago these shores had been populated by rich Norwegian tourists and the well-do inhabitants of a city whose name had been forgotten. Or so he had read. Then, those books had described another world.

In this world, right in the now, Lake Vänern was host to one of Sweden’s five arcologies. Three, which had once been four, Martin recounted. Still, it was better to find safety in numbers than continue trying to eke out an existence at Camp Sala.

Perhaps sensing his worries, a rough voice spoke up. “Be there in five. You got your pass?”

Martin brought up the laminated card, one he carried in a crudely sewn pocket on the inside of what once had been a jacket. The light caught the plastic and his Deputy nodded, short black hair rustling in the wind.

“Words of advice. Don’t show that card outside the Arcology,” she warned.

Martin had seen the brown-clad woman take down five thugs on the outskirts of Sala, so he didn’t quite scoff. “Will do,” he answered, almost managing to keep his voice contrite.

This wasn’t his first walk in the wild. He knew better than to flash cred where any camper might see. And he had visited the Stockholm Arcology. That being said, this Arcology was the second in size in Sweden. Nothing like the ones in Europe proper, or the few left in Southeast Asia.

He wondered- the Deputy froze.

He scanned the nearby area, the forest and the brushes, the water lapping at the nearby beaches. The shadow cast by the walls of the Vänern Arcology had previously seemed assuring, but now it seemed ominous. You could hide beneath the sand here, under the rocks and nobody would notice.

“Sharp.”

The world seemed to ripple and fracture before Martin’s eyes and before they could adjust, a man stood before them. He wore the same brown skinsuit as Martin’s Deputy and his head was bald. The lack of hair on his head seemed to be made up by the hair on his chin, setting up a smiling face. The speed of his teleport was nothing to sneer at either.

The woman relaxed, and taking that as his cue, so did Martin.

“What are you doing here Andreas?”

The man sighed. “I can’t join my little sister as she gathers the wayward lambs?”

Martin winced. He had been inside the Stockholm Arcology enough times to learn of the contempt they held for outsiders. Lamb was a more polite word for a barbarian.

The woman made a motion and they resumed the last steps of their journey. Even as Martin wondered who this Andreas was, a bigger wonder sat before him. An arcology. A wonder of science.

The ground beneath his feet leveled out, made so by no force known to God and whatever forest or bush that once trespassed onto Lake Vänern had too been reduced, scoured to nothing. The walls stretched out beyond the horizon, covering what had come before.

This, Martin thought, this a new beginning.