A Place To Stay

James knew exactly what to do. It wasn't hard. The current administration guaranteed that everyone could have a place to stay, a home however small to call theirs. So all he had to do was register at city hall and then go to his assigned lodgings.

Really it wasn't some kind of enlightened society. Ever since the awakening two hundred years ago, housing hadn't been a problem. The was too much space. Not the normal kind of space of course, the earth was still the earth, it hadn't become any larger. No, it was the extra dimensional space that had opened up a lot of possibilities.

Space pockets were what they were called by normal people and these irregularities in the space time continuum had begun to pop up all over the place. While solving earth's overcrowding problems it came with so many other extremely terrifying concerns.

When a space pocket can open up anywhere and anytime life can get really interesting really fast. Most space pockets were nothing more than a few cubic inches of alternate imaginary space. Of course the space was just as real as the real world, it was just called imaginary to distinguish it from the real world. Most people spent a good chunk of the time in imaginary dimensions. Which just meant inside a dungeon. There was absolutely nothing special about imaginary space, most of the time.

Some space pockets snapped into real space fully grown and capable of supporting life. These larger space pockets were distinguished from the garden variety space pockets and were called dungeons.

Statistically a pocket capable of supporting life was one in a billion and one opening with hostile inhabitants was even more remote, one in a hundred billion. However, when pockets were opening by the trillion each day it wasn't so rare to see a hostile dungeon. Wich meant that on average a hundred dungeons had to be challenged every day across the entire surface of the earth. Only it wasn't so bad, because some of those self destructed immediately at least their entrances did. Some of them opened up in the oceans, seas, or death zones which were deemed unmanageable. 

Then there were the space pockets that grew. Believe it or not space has tides very slow tides, but if a big enough pocket had a big enough tide there could be significant effects. And that didn't take into account what happened when two pockets collided. In a collision event a pocket could double or more in size and depending on the properties of the tide in each pocket side effects span subsequent effects.

Most of the collisions happened when a tiny space pocket collided with another. The big pockets were fine. The normal run of the mill tiny space pocket didn't phase a large dungeon even a little bit. Most of the collisions were between tiny pockets and the result was just a fizzle, maybe some sparks. Medium sized pockets started to become a little dangerous. Landscapes could change, new species could invade, poisonous gas could pollute the air, anything could happen.

That was why the Space Predicting and Mediation (SPAM) group had been formed. That's right, the pockets interjected not just in our three dimensional would, but also in four dimensions because of imaginary space. So a pocket in Japan can 'collide' with a pocket in China. Most of the time there was no problem, but what do upstanding citizens do when their family's pocket dimension suddenly opened up into China? Since the size of a pocket determines how many entrances it can have they usually only have one door. Especially for a pocket that a family could control. So the question must be mediated, who looses their home or who has to pick up and move everything?

SPAM wasn't perfect, but they mediated quite well and in most cases they were able to avert a lot of unfortunate circumstances through predicting spatial events.

Right now James was on his way to city hall to register with the local officials. Really it was a glorified way to become a client of SPAM. People could do whatever they wanted as long as it was legal, but if they didn't get SPAM on their side they were crazy. No one wanted to have a space pocket open in their home leading to a hostile alien world. Horror stories of a space collision opening a door into the neighbors bedroom were rampant. Both could happen and depending on the outcome both could be terrifying in different ways.

So James had to do things the right way.

At city hall there was a line, but it was not that long and before he knew it he was standing in front of a middle aged man.

"Hi, I'm Xia Shun, what can I do for you today?"

"Hello, I need to register and find an apartment."

James requested.

"Sure, let's see, what forms do you need to fill out… How old are you?"

The man asked looking down his nose at James.

"Seventeen."

"Okay, as a minor you will have to claim emancipation from your parents. Can you get their signatures?"

The middle aged man bluntly stated what had to happen.

"They will sign."

"Alternatively you could become a ward of the state. A minor would normally be housed in an orphanage, but you wouldn't have to. Any child above fifteen can move out on their own as long as the state can do quarterly checks. Usually a SPAM rep will be assigned responsibility to check. They do their monthly space pocket check, anyways."

The man looked like he was reading off a screen, for every word except that last sentence.

"Sure, I understand."

James kept it short.

"Okay, here take this packet, it explains all the details, then sign this saying I explained everything and that you received the documents."

James signed where the uncle was asking him to sign.

"Now, this is the emancipation document, you can fill that out on your own. It must be returned in ten business days."

"Okay."

The form was a single page, but it was heavy in his hands.

"This is the last one. Fill it out now, over there and then scan it right at the end of this row of cashiers. It is just a way of confirming your identity. Once you have done that your new lodgings will be texted to your phone within a few minutes. Do you have a charge on your device?"

"Okay, will do and yes my phone is charged. Thank you."

James said.

"Good luck, kid."

The uncle encouraged him and then motioned for the next person in line.

The last form was mostly a way to double check his identity and notify him of his new relationship with SPAM. After scanning the document his phone immediately buzzed.

His new home was going to be on the other side of the city from his family in what was quaintly called the ghetto.

The ghetto was where everyone lived who didn't have anywhere else to go. With so much room and space, normal and alternate, you would think that there would be very few people without a home. Yet, the opposite was true. The ghetto was alive and hopping. A melting pot where pretty much anything went. Fantastic entities, sentient species, and more besides. Very little crime. Crime happened inside the pockets.

It was disrespectful to commit crime outside of the pockets. When most wanted to live in peace and have a safe place to raise a family the very crime syndicates who terrorized the dungeons also made sure that the normal world was safe. Of course the police made a show of force in 'real' space. But everyone knew that the mob bosses would come for in your sleep if you crossed them.

In this way for the first time in the history of the world there was general peace. It was false in every sense of the word. There was more crime then ever. But for all that you could leave things on a park bench and come back hours later to find everything. Daughters could run and play by themselves if they wanted to. It was idyllic.