The Great Ski-Lift

- So I would be the first tourist to use the cable car?

- Not quite. Let's say that apart from the test pilots, three or four people have gone up. Trustworthy people we...but, - his face took on a worried look, - I can't say anything else!

Oskar thought back to his friend who as far as he understood, had not reached the plateau starting from here; now it seemed more likely he had used the cable car just to descend. Maybe he came across the plateau by chance and gone up from a more known lift station. Therefore, moving from one station to the next, he then descended to Valle Chiara. It would have been a stroke of luck: a Singular Event. He could then imagine a completely different impression of the valley compared to the previous day when the forecourt lay before him in the dying light of a rainy afternoon. Arrivals are emotionally different from departures, even when two spectacular events like sunrise and sunset are concerned.

- I would like to ask you a question: you referred to a select group who used the station to climb, but I understood other people had used it also for descents.

From the next room emerged a man bearing a jug of coffee and two cups on a tray.

- That's right, - Said the manager with a serious look: - You see, Mr Zerbi, the cable car has just been completed. The lift station is made up of cabins that can carry two passengers without skis on their feet. He paused a moment, in an effort to explain more logically: - It's okay Mr Zerbi, it’s a fairly unpleasant situation. It´s possible that once the cable car is running, it may be misused to traffic people rather than help tourism.

Oskar was astonished: - What do you mean? Are you talking about my friend by any chance?

- No, of course not! I expect your friend made proper use of the lift after hiking at altitude. Maybe he was in a spot of bother. You see, I'm referring to another kind of person. I'm talking about clandestinos who sneak into our territory.

He sipped on the coffee, then continued in a low weary voice: -Mr Zerbi, I became aware that during the tests the station was running at night, always in secret... and so refugees began heading into the valleys. Once dismounted they vanish promptly into the woods. I think they corrupted the operators in some way; the word in town was that Asian faces had been seen wandering in the valley.

Now the manager's expression had turned irritated and after a moment's hesitation, he continued his version of events: - So, during the nights following this revelation we waited by the station and ambushed a couple of illegales. There were two Asians, perhaps Mongolians, who didn't speak one word in our language, so it was impossible to find out more about this trafficking in Valle Chiara.

-What did you do?

-Nothing. I let them go. Besides, what should I have done? Call the police? - He stood up, visibly embarrassed: - Mr Zerbi ... did you speak to Ignazio the hotelier about this particular initiative?

- Yes. He mentioned a promoter who came from California.

- That's right, a Californian. I reckon the man is a genius who not only wanted to honour his native village, but also designed an elaborate experiment to help develop the local area.

- An experiment?

- That's it! In my opinion, he studied the network problem in minute detail. Are you familiar with advanced sciences that analytically study reticulated systems?

- Yes, a little. Actually, I should know more, seeing I graduated in engineering. Much of what we study at university is later forgotten.

- An engineer, my congratulations. I’m just a lowly technician, but I’ve been curious about networks for a while. Interested but without any opportunity to take it further. Well, I think the ex-major behind this initiative was following a scientific project. Actually, I’m sure he can control it externally. As they probably mentioned to you, once the so-called connection was inaugurated, he resigned as Mayor and left Valle Chiara forever.

The manager remained thoughtful for a moment, before adding: - I remember the inauguration day vividly, the Mayor was in a great hurry to leave as if he had other things to do. Maybe the work had overrun the scheduled deadline.

The two remained in silence, whilst the man approached the window, which the melancholic winter light struggled to penetrate. Outside it was drizzling.

- I feel we’re dancing around the main issue. I was telling you about the clandestinos to be reported. You will have understood by now that this ski station is not fully legit. The project has a vague name; it was officially approved as a ‘cable utility for transporting goods’

- I don't get it; we're talking about Valle Chiara council project aimed at boosting tourism! Why all these mysteries?

- I feel that’s the key to the whole affair. My dear engineer, listen to me carefully. The valley is too low down, skirting the large mountain ranges in altitude. Strictly speaking, a ski resort is not feasible here. -

-Finally! We're getting to the heart of the matter. -

-The Great Ski Lift circuit is too far from this Vallechiara. On the Sierra, there are thousands of villages, which have built their own lovely ski station to accommodate winter tourism. Over time, the villages started linking up and formed the valley circuits. In turn, the valley networks joined and created the Sierra consortia. There are already people muttering about –clutter. - Are you aware of these initiatives, engineer Zerbi?

- I read something in a newspaper advert. Something about some places offering long traverses from one valley to the next if you had a kind of super-membership card.

- Exactly! They are mountain ranges run by consortia that have connected the ski lifts. The professor hired me as manager of the Valle Chiara plants soon after becoming Mayor. He spoke about this Great Network and its future development. According to him, the Sierra consortia had continued expanding to the point of crossing national boundaries and linking other mountain chains in all directions. It seems that now no one really knows the full extent of the network, which has become an immense network overlaying peripheral sub-nets, a web of disused lines, tracks, dead ends and so on.

- I don’t understand, but why was this Mayor or professor, so keen on connecting the village to this great circuit?

- I'll explain the official version that made the whole initiative possible, along with local consent. The Great Ski Lift connection would be a source of wealth for this isolated valley. The idea was to run a cable car right up to the plateau...but the plateaus are still far from the Great Ski Lift. This didn't bother the Mayor, who felt it was not important to the company's success. Based on his calculations, traffic would start flowing spontaneously from the terminal and to the Grand Circuit. A kind of attractor.

Oskar was rather puzzled by this description: - A clandestine connection to the Great Ski Lift... In a nutshell, was this the plan?

- More or less. To be honest our station runs as far as the first plateau, which is several miles from the main glacier. This still leaves two plateau to traverse. Trust me, it's no walk in the park. On the other hand, you realize how valuable an access point to the Great Ski Lift can be. Have you ever been?

- No, never.

- Thousands of miles of slopes, snow-covered valleys and an infinite number of hotels and serious party venues. Everything is potentially available to visitors who know how to look.

- This Circuit must have some kind of security for checking-in? asked a bewildered Oskar, - The security staff must carry out constant checks meaning you need a pass?

- 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.

He would return to the City tomorrow, spending Christmas in this desolate valley was not a good choice. He had friends in town, on Christmas Eve he could feast on stuffed turkey at Giuseppe's house. Chores to get busy with, spend a few days sorting himself out before returning to work. Take Elise to the theatre, it had been ages since the last time.

A local started creatively insulting his fellow card-player, but after some hurried explanations, returned to playing cards scowling. The bartender was talking to a customer. A young woman with a tray full of clean glasses entered through a side door. Her face was flushed despite the light clothing. She put away the glasses on the shelves and then hurried, almost running back to the side door. A few minutes later, she returned embracing wooden logs destined for the stove.

Oskar admired her absorption in the work, the body confident and focused in its movements, and oblivious to the surrounding environment. The woman's rapt look sparked a feeling of envy mixed with admiration: he suddenly imagined being the one carrying out the simple chores.

From the window, wet snow briefly glistened before melting with the muddy road.

- I knew I'd find you here! - was Clara's greeting.

Oskar was surprised to see anyone he knew in this strange village. In a spontaneous burst of affection, he stood up and hugged the young woman. - So glad to see you! I was starting to get a bit maudlin sitting here alone.

- Sorry to hear that.

- I'm feeling confused due to maybe having different expectations. This story behind the Great Ski Lift has made me a bit uncertain.

- I see! - exclaimed a bemused Clara. On remembering that morning's arrangement, she ventured: - What did the manager say? Can you reach the plateau using the new station?

- That's exactly the point. The manager assured me that everything is working. The station was built to develop tourism, although legally it's still a grey area. Yet, according to him, that's not an issue for users.

- Don't worry, that's not so important. You can spend the holidays with us anyway. There's not a lot to do right now, the seasonal hunters only arrive when winter is ending. We can go on some nice hikes and have a great Christmas even without gracing the ski slopes.

He was pleased to hear these words and the focus of Clara's tender gaze. He liked this woman.

When they headed back to the tavern for lunch, she helped him place the luggage in her grandparent’s room, where Oskar had slept the night before. Clara lit the wood in a fireplace that had seemed unused for many years. The room filled with smoke, and they both attempted to clean the hood aided by a broom handle.

In the kitchen, the owners had already finished eating.

- Morning, Mr Zerbi! said the innkeeper smiling – My wife and like to breakfast early so we can get on with our daily chores. Don't worry though, our daughter can keep you company.

- So, what do you think about staying in Valle Chiara for Christmas? Clara hinted after eating, taking the plates to the sink.

- Why not. Not taken a decision yet about the cable car to the plateau...to be honest, I did not expect things to be so complicated. I think I'll stay here with you for a few more days.

Clara seemed pleased with his decision. Yet he was in two minds. The original Christmas idea was compromised, but neither did he feel moved to make other plans. He was essentially discouraged, only seeing a jumbled mess that curtailed any attempt at freedom.

He went tiredly to bed, a pin prickling sensation on his brain. He lay on the bed, staring in the semi-darkness at the hanging and arranged objects on the walls. Some serious antiques or kitsch bargains the hoteliers probably bagged at village jumble sales. Souvenirs that should be meaningless to him, but conditioned by his memories they took on a familiar form, an experience similar to the one in the hotel's kitchen. It was the -archaic- part of his Being.

Everything begins in our defenceless childhood, when by definition there's agency to choose favourable situations. Oskar considered the collection of memories during -life- as a bizarre quirk of existence. This meant that the Being is forever enclosed in a kind of aquarium. A banality he had never really thought about. Sometimes he meditated on the possibility of prenatal life or reincarnation, although feeling these were fanciful notions that did not go beyond explanations for deja vu.

He fell asleep dreaming of sliding over a long, perfectly smooth wave without the slightest ripple. Must be an important dream he wanted to linger in. Perhaps an Archetype represented by pure symbolic forms, such as an undulating motion.

When his eyes opened it was pitch black outside. The room was still lit by the fireplace's dancing flames. He felt exhausted. He regretted leaving the city, even knowing he was living badly there – drowning hopelessly in the uselessness that tarnished his soul. Besides, he had been sick for too long to keep hoping for a resurrection. His survival had hinged on using emotions to such a point they had become permanently deformed. He decided to go back to the City the following day. The alternative was staying in the hotel begging the owner's daughter for company, who had maybe set the whole thing up deliberately. Clara was pretty, from what he had glimpsed so far. She seemed to live a rather compact life, one in which thoughts existed in a solid state.

By now the idea of the Great Ski Lift seemed an impossible undertaking. Oskar was in no state to face the cable car alone, much less swing aloft in some remote cove. He would never survive the ordeal, annihilated by an immensity he could not absorb.

Despite his fragility, there were moments the discomfort dropped away and he dreamed of wandering the world alone, aimlessly, following in the footsteps of any guru claiming to know the infinite nuances of freedom.

He was completely awake now, his tiredness suddenly gone. His eyes roved around the room, now attuned to the half-light, and the space radiated a sense of well-being. Lying flat on a surface as notions of safety and continuity slipped by: a lunar place, the Sea of Tranquillity.

Clara opened the door and slowly approached the bed, checking if Oskar was sleeping. She smiled on seeing his wide-open eyes, and placed a hand on his forehead.

- I came to call you for a trip to the springs, and watch the sunset. You were moaning in your sleep, maybe a nightmare.

- Really?

- Your forehead was boiling – she said in a low voice.

- What time is it?

- Almost midnight.

Oskar was surprised, he must have been exhausted to sleep for so many hours. He felt much better though.

An old oil lamp was turned on for company as they sat down beside the fireplace. They stayed silent next to each other before the fire. Oskar broke the silence: - What did you do when you were living in the city?

- I was studying at the Academy of Arts and enjoying myself. I had lots of friends and my musical passion was growing, I even used to play in a bar.

- Sounds fun! Well done, you made a good choice. What happened afterwards?

Clara became serious, and arranged herself more comfortably on the armchair: - The problems began when I started working. Working in the City is something almost incomprehensible. I think only a few people are able to understand the real dynamics.

- I think you're right, work is pretty mysterious ... So you came back to Valle Chiara?

- Of course. It made no sense to stay in a City where my life was almost flat lining.

It was true, thought Oskar. In some ways Clara's impressions were not so different from his.

- You're an engineer, is that right? Where do you work?

-I work with H.M.C. as a materials expert.

- Must be an interesting job.

- Just about. But I've been working too hard as of late, that's why I am on holiday.

There was a square in town I knew well, and I made an appointment with someone who didn't suggest a holiday but...rather suggested joining the Great Ski Lift, as if it were a job.

Clara turned to him and gently ran her hand along his forehead, almost caressing.