The Last Place to Stand (7 page)

The music began to build, pictures of actual components were now presented, “Now for some specifics of the ICCPP. The ICCPP is the first project to be tested by the Confluence Organization. You will have installed in your brain, the most advanced piece of bio-integrated circuitry ever engineered. In the past, processors were added to the brain in order to enhance storage capacity and, more recently, add the ability of the reception of over-the-air feeds. In this leap forward, an actual processor, nearly as complex as the brain itself, will come to co-exist alongside the brain. This is much the way the massive parallel machines of the past would break down a very complex problem and each processor would work out a piece of the answer and then all these pieces would be put together in order to have one complete solution. Many years ago this was found to greatly speed up the processing time needed for complex solutions.”

“The processor that will be added to your brain will take incoming problems and decide what it can do better and what your built-in processor (brain) can better handle. Then it will assign parts of the problem giving you the information needed to have a ready answer far faster than would otherwise be possible. Because the computerized part of you will have capabilities beyond your own, it will not only speed up the process, but it will make it possible to solve problems that your indigenous brain would never have been able to solve with any amount of time.”

With a crescendo, the music exploded, “ICCPP, the technology that will lead us to the future!”

Now the music started to fade into the background, the screen faded and the panel closed. “So, what do you think?” said E2175.

Now the man was excited, ready to do anything asked of him. He had, through subliminal messages, his own pride, and the presentation, been brought into a kind of ecstatic state of hope for the future and a desire to be a big part of it. At first he stuttered a bit due to the tremendous adrenaline rush, “I-I-I th-think it's am-am-amazing.”

“We know you are interested in getting started as soon as possible, so we will need you to sign the usual forms, now available on the screen for your perusal. Once done, we will check you in.”

Even though the candidate was extremely exhausted due to the long testing program he had already been through, he wanted to get started too. He looked blearily at the documents being presented on his screen, but only saw the line at the bottom for signature. If he would have allowed it, the writing on the screen would have been read aloud through his embedded chip since no one read anymore, but he did not give it the time to get started before he had signed each page that presented itself. Within a couple of minutes he had signed six documents in rapid succession, and initialed nine.

Upon the signing of the last document, a gurney barged into the room and he was lifted off his seat by two robotic assistants, placed onto it, and skittered off. He began giggling as he was carted off toward the operating room.

It was break time, and X213 wanted to step outside. She knew the scrubbers made the air better inside than outside, but she just wanted a change of scenery. This was unusual for her, but she wanted to try something new today. She felt suffocated. As she walked a couple of blocks away from work, she passed an old man who was holding a sign. That was even more unusual. No one read, but of course, her chip gave her an interpretation. “The end is near,” it said.

“Why are you holding that?” she said.

“Because it's true. We're not even a five minute walk from where it will probably happen too!” He was dressed in rags. She couldn't imagine how he had been allowed to stay there without being detected by the cameras and dumped somewhere outside the city.

“What do you mean?” she asked. “I work at Techcorp. Why will it be the end?”

“Because, when the singularity comes, do you think it will like us? Do you think it will even let us live? What do you think would happen if a truly logical life began? Would it want to exist with an illogical, drug dependent people like us? It's gonna drive us out or kill us all!” He did not seem sad or mad, but insistent and intense. But who would listen to him?

She wondered how long he had been saying these things. She had heard these sorts of things before, but more as philosophy, not as prophecy. This guy was whacked. She didn't bother responding to him further, but started on her way back. Anyway, her break was almost over and she needed to be on her shift in time or the monitors would record her absence and she would get a pay cut.

She got only half a block away when the trucks came and robotic servicemen picked the man up and put him in the back. He would either cooperate, change his ways, or be dropped off outside of the city—off the edge of the world. Maybe he would join the Outcasts. Maybe he would be happy there. She sure never would.

Another block and her hands started to shake again. As she came within sight of her workplace she felt something wet on her hand. She looked up at a sunny sky. That's when it struck her that it was a tear. She began to feel a panic rise up in her. It was as if her insides were fighting with her logical outside. Control, she needed control. She needed to think. She knew that technology was the path to a better future. She knew that life was better than it had ever been in history. She knew she was right. She knew, she knew...she was crying now even more. She had never done that. Not since. . .

It was 18 years ago. They were in a nice house with bright yellow walls. She was a little girl and her mother was getting tired of her whining. She had a whiny voice back then. At least that was what her mother said. When she was eating she dropped her spoon on the floor and started to cry. Her mother, frustrated for the thousandth time, turned around in a rage and hit her across the face with the palm of her hand. She kept yelling, slapping her once for each word said, “no more crying. Ever. Again.” The last hit with the word “again,” knocked her unconscious. When she came to, she was in the hospital. She was going to be okay, but her mother was not around. She never saw her mother again.

Walking toward her office, realizing what she was dwelling on she caught herself slapping herself in the face as hard as she could, yelling, “stop crying!” What was she doing! She used to do that when she was young. She didn't even remember it until now. She fell down to her knees in the street with everyone ignoring her, receiving feeds, and she began sobbing. Looking up at the bright, hard sky, she cried, “God, help me! If you are out there, help me. I want out!”

She stood up and realized she could not go back to her office. There was no way she could, she knew that now. Within a few moments, something had broken and she kept crying. Tears falling on her shirt, but she couldn't stop, didn't even want to because now she knew that she needed to cry. More than anything else she needed to cry. She didn't even have words for what she was feeling because she had no experience with this feeling. She just felt it and welcomed the feeling like the face of someone whose name she had forgotten.

She got up from the pavement. People still going about their business. They were barely aware enough to walk, let alone notice someone else nearby. She broke into a run. She had no destination but felt the impulse to run and now she had no reason to resist.

It had been a few days since Odysseus and his family were rescued by Samuel and his men. It was not as difficult a physical adjustment for him as it had been for X4287. From the room where Odysseus and his family slept he could hear X4287 mumbling to himself, moaning and crying through much of the night. It was a strange thing to hear, but then again to have the feeds suddenly stop must have been like losing touch with family. It sounded horrible. Since he had never allowed the feed processor to be installed in their chips they never had to go through such an adjustment period.

As the morning sun climbed over the horizon, Odysseus awoke and headed into the room where the old man had been, but he was gone. Seeing Poke clean up where the old man had laid down, he asked, “Where is he?”

“He wanted to go for a walk,” she said.

“I sure hope he'll be alright,” said Odysseus.

“Oh, yes,” she said, “He'll be fine. I have seen this several times over the last couple of years, and since he survived the first night and has begun to talk to others, he will be okay.”

“Well, that's good to know,” he said. Odysseus looked outside the window and felt the sun’s warmth on his face. His wife and kids still lay sleeping. The other day, they went on a hike to see the surrounding countryside. They were surprised to find that they could see the tower of Techcorp from the top of Tumuleiah
, a small mountain, or tall hill they called it since the opinion was split in the community. The landscape was mostly dry, the dirt red, with small patches of grass and weeds interspersed throughout. It was not what Odysseus would have thought of as picturesque, but compared to the city he had been living in, it was a breath of fresh air.

“So where are the children at this time of the morning?” said Odysseus.

“Doing the usual chores,” she said. “They feed and milk the goats, and water the vegetable garden. The garden takes a while since the stream is about four hundred meters away and it takes refilling twice for each of them before they finish the job. After that they have school.”

“And your husband?”

“He’s talking to the Council to see what buildable land might be available for sale,” she said.

A look of surprise came into his gray eyes, “Buildable land?”

“For you,” she said. “You can't live here forever and I'm sure you would like your own place. The counsel determines who can live where and for how much.”

“But Poke,” he said, “I haven't had time to make any money yet. I don't know what you use for purchase, but we only have the clothes on our backs.”

Poke smiled. “The land came free for us, so it is sold only with the promise that certain kinds of development will be done on it. We all want to see improvement rather than disrepair and fallow ground. The specifics though take talking through. Also, some of that land must be available to the community.”

“What do you mean?” said Odysseus.

She picked up a broom and began to sweep. “Since community has no value in the world of the Technos, and since most of us came directly from there, we found that one of the things we were starved for was community. We don't want to talk to someone through the vidscreen or through feeds, as they use now. We want someone we can hug and have coffee with. We want to greet each other with a handshake or a hug or even a scornful look if we want. Something lacking in the feeds.”

“For this reason,” she continued, “we decided early on that we wanted each piece of property to have at least one part that belonged to the community. That way, whether you like it or not, you have friends, perhaps right in your backyard, ready to be with you. There are no loners out here.”

The door creaked open and in walked her husband, Sydney. He had a pack over one shoulder and was wearing a soft brown cloak and a darker brown beat-up hat. In one hand he was holding a well-folded piece of paper. “Well, we're done,” he said. “If you will agree to the terms, it's yours.”

“I would like to see the place and know the terms,” he said. “I also need to have my wife in on the decision.”

“Wise man,” Sydney said with a smile. He had one of those mouths that always looked like a smile was just about to break. “In the meantime, have you eaten?”

“Not yet. Believe it or not, I just woke up. What is the common meal around here? In our city we would take a few pills, maybe a nutri-bar, and hit the road for work or school.”

“Well here,” said Sydney, “we eat these.” He took his bag off of his shoulder and took out a couple of brown eggs. “That is, unless we can get these!” Now he pulled out an egg the size of his head. It was white and looked as hard as a rock.

“What kind of egg is that?” said Odysseus.

“This would be an Ostrich egg. Good eggs, great meat!” he said with a smile.

“I thought you said the kids fed chickens,” he said to Poke.

“Well, yes,” said Poke. “That's for our home. This is from his work.”

“So, what is your business?” said Odysseus.

Sydney said, “Me? Well I raise Ostriches. I have a whole farm of them. I brought them here and I raised them, help them multiply, and harvest the meat and the eggs. I sell most of the eggs, so these are special.” Then, looking at his wife he gave a warm laugh. “Didn't you know? Sydney's not an author or pioneer. It's a place. It's where I'm from.”

They could hear stirring in the other room. The kids were beginning to wake. Hamlet and Sam were the first up. Hamlet rubbing his eyes, said, “Whoa, Sam, look at the size of that egg.”

Sam looked up. “What kind of a bird would lay a thing like that? It must be a dinosaur!”

“Well, not exactly,” said Sydney, “just an ostrich.”

“Cool!” said Hamlet.

Poke took the bag and gave her husband a light kiss. “I'd better get these cooked up. It looks like the hungries will be upon us shortly.”

She went outside to where the fire pit had a bright red set of coals already stoked from a previous user.

Odysseus, seeing his wife stir in the other room, sneaked over to her and whispered into her ear, “Jane. Jane, I have something to ask you.” She muttered something unintelligible. “Jane, how would you like to have your own place out here.”

She was still tired. But in half consciousness she said, “Uh huh,” with an almost childlike girlishness. The kind that made him love her.

Going back to Sydney, he took the paper from his hands, put it on the table and said, “So, what are the terms?”

Samuel and his men knew chances were that they would be safe for most of the time they were in the building, but if they did anything suspicious, the cameras would take note. Cameras were monitored by a computer that would alert the authorities if it noticed anything unusual. This mission was only for information, so Samuel would take them inside, but their best tool for finding what they needed was Wallace.