The Natural Selection - Prologue
So this is the beginning to a story that I actually plan to get published. I'll explain more about it in a journal entry summarising what I'm working on, but for now, know that this story deals with a topic that's quite close to my Human Geographer heart; namely, the way to sustainably build cities for the future whilst minimising damage to the environment. Don't worry, this story does have anthropomprhic animals, and I'm keen for it never to become preachy. This prologue, in particular, addresses something I call "lecture culture", where it's seen as uncool to answer questions in lectures; at least at my University, lectures are mostly seen as places where Students shut off, often leaving it up to me to answer a painfully simple question! It's something that really irks me, I'll say that much xD!
Three years ago
Henry Pronghorn was never one to boast about the qualities people claimed he had, yet even he, though modestly, admitted his uncanny ability to maintain his cool, collected persona even when faced down by a hall of expectant eyes. At this exact moment, however, the staggered, theatre seating stretching in front of him was filled with people who resolutely bucked the trend; readjusting the frame of his squared-off glasses that balanced precariously against his elongated, bronze muzzle, the antelope slowly clasped his hoof-tipped hands around a dark red, grooved takeaway coffee cup with unmistakeable deliberation; the cup's upward movement from the petite, slanted oak table bowing down in front of him precise and smooth as it angled towards his mouth and reluctantly gave up its warm, black liquid within.
"Oh don't mind me," he spoke neutrally as he gently placed the coffee cup back against the table and ruffled the collar of his hand-stitched suit, but a distinct hint of contempt was slowly protruding through his thick, Bronx accent, "I'm just expressin' my lack of interest a little more_transparently_. Seriously, you guys; you're here to learn, but ever since I got here you've all clearly been more occupied with whatever bird that rapper "Mockingjay-zee" has been in bed with on Instagram. You're fine by me to look at that stuff in your own time, but homelessness is not a problem that'll just solve itself overnight, and the least you could all do is put those meddlesome pieces o' junk down, sit up straight and pretend that you're puttin' your parents' money to good use!" A hundred sets of seat hinges creaked and moaned in protest as the weary students upon them shifted their bottoms backwards and half-heartedly sat at a thirty-degree angle to the stage; their sullen, longing eyes silently praying for the wall-mounted clock that ominously loomed over them on the oak-panelled wall to their left to speed up its next fifteen minutes between now, and the tantilising three o'clock break.
"Thank you" Henry smiled with an eerily grateful façade, "if you couldn't already tell by now, this is somethin' I care about more than you could ever know; I do kinda' get it when you've got a lecturer on autopilot who stands there like his legs are frozen and drones on like a broken robot, but if nothin' else, I'm a guest; you'll probably never see my stupid face again after this. I mean, you are all Human Geographers; aren't ya', like, supposed to be interested in this sorta' stuff? The housing shortage, overbreeding and the like? But anyhow," he transitioned smoothly, "I think it's about time I got to the main chunk of this talk; it's all very well yattin' on about the housing problem, but that ain't worth Jack if you don't have a solution, and I sure do. Actually, before I spill the beans, I'll try and pick your brains up off the floor for ya'; what do any o' you guys and gals think is the best way to solve the housing problem we've burdened this earth wit'? Go on, don't be shy." In a flash, a painfully expensive thump reverberated through the lecture hall as the students with their phones and tablets supported by their hands were promptly dropped against the tables as their owners had jerked upright, struggling to come to terms with the fact that a lecturer genuinely expected _participation_from them. Almost thirty painfully awkward seconds passed, but Henry made his stance clear as, with a controlling nod, he folded his arms together and flicked a piercing, sideways glance at the clock.
"You can stare longingly at that thing all ya' want; I'm not letting a single one outta' here for your break until someone answers my question; I know it's kinda' loaded, but surely basic common sense should help- oh wait, I forgot, you're all students; you're often touted as the 'dreamers of tomorrow' or whatever garbage, but in the real world you got about as much common sense as ya' do drinkin' sense, but what do I know? Come on, someone pipe up. Anyone? I promise it doesn't look geeky to answer a question, and you'll be doin' everyone else in this room a _huge_favour." In amongst the dredging, collective mass of dead-on-their-feet students, however, a single, solitary paw gingerly raised itself above the crowd.
"Ah, there we go; that wasn't so hard, was it? Yeah, the cat up there, you got an answer, pal?"
"Erm...uh, build lots of new homes?" The split-second the brave tabby-cat in the second row from the back had finished his response, a subsequent, rather more rapid hand shot up on the other side of the hall.
"That's all very well and good" proclaimed an uptight, authoritative female quip, "but what about the damage that'll do to nature? Deforestation and all that?" Henry's paw slowly arced down from his jowl like a clockwork toy, and on his muzzle sat an incrementally widening, ecstatic grin.
"I am so glad you raised that point. See here, people" he gestured grandly to the two brave souls who had dared pipe up, "it's not difficult, and thanks to these two lovely assistants, I can continue. Now" he paused, purposefully walking in calculated, deliberate steps around the lecture stand, "that question ties in to what I have in mind for tackling this problem. Keep in mind, I'm only Greenson and Co.'s lead architect, not their resident philosopher; I can't see into_the future, but I can see _a future. I see one for you, for me, for everyone." Finally coming to a stop in front of the lecture stand, and taking a deep, concealed breath, he swiped his hand across the trackpad of his silver laptop resting against the small, rectangular ridge running the length of the table, causing the gargantuan projector screen behind him to flick to its next slide. All eyes suddenly shot open, and the quiet, resentful mumbling was suddenly barged out of the way by a single, uniform, resolute gasp that ricocheted through the jaw-hanging audience.
"I thought you'd see it my way" the antelope grinned self-assuredly, "I can tell you all right now, you are looking at the future."