The Last Place to Stand (4 page)

“That will take a little longer to heal,” she said. “The first issue is more physical. You were used to the feeds. They were a sort of stimulant. Now you miss that.”

It sounded like she was cleaning up in the room. “The second issue takes more time, because it is emotional and requires a different kind of healing. One you cannot do alone.”

“Will it hurt?” he asked.

“Some, yes,” she said. “And it will be slow.”

“What will I need to do?” he asked.

“You will need to trust others and accept warmth and acceptance from them. You will need to find new purpose in who you were made to be, and not what you can do. You will have to believe what others say when they say they care about you.” When she said this last bit it sounded like there was a sob behind the words.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “I guess I'm not really done with the process either.”

“You mean you were one of us?”

“Yes,” she said. “The wounds take time. And they take love. My family loves me, and so do others.” Tears. It sounded like she was crying. “I must go now. I have more work to do,” she said as she neared the door. Then she stopped. He could hear her slowly say to herself aloud, “But the work is not who I am.” She shuffled out of the room.

X4287 thought about this conversation for a long time and then slowly eased back into comfortable sleep.

She was surprised to see a group of three men and one woman walk into her office. They were dressed in suits rather than lab coats. That was unusual. And they were headed for the door that would lead them to an elevator going directly to the operations manager. That was unusual as well. They must have been scanned and searched by the bots before getting this far. They also must have had an appointment or else they would not have been allowed.

One was carrying a briefcase and all walked in quietly, without speech. They were probably receiving feeds, but had a look of purpose and did not seem distracted by them.

The one in front with the briefcase had a white face and stared straight ahead. His hold on the briefcase was tight, as if he did not wish it to get away.

X213 was not sure what it was all about, but then she thought about the packet she could not open earlier that morning. Maybe this was part of the same thing.

As the feeds began to pile up, getting logged and recorded, she knew she had better hurry up or she would get behind. And that would affect her performance rating, which would in turn affect her salary. She dove back into her work--only six hours to go.

Six men and two women met in a white office around a large conference table. There were built-in screens in the table so that computer access was available to them all. That allowed them access to databases and other documents that were too sensitive for the feeds.

“Units of distinction,” the man at the head of the table said. “We have before us a proposition that is of such a nature, that I felt I must call you in to discuss it.” Around the room each face looked focused, without feeling.

Continuing, he said, “We have been developing a new chip in collaboration with some of the best contributors from abroad.” One of the men stood up and walked over to a device on the other end of the table. It was a small gray box, fastened to the table itself. “You will all receive a secure feed that cannot be received outside this room. The walls are a secure barrier, and the range is very short. Please turn off all other feeds at this moment.” They did so.

What they received in return was the presentation of a new product. One that was unlike anything they had ever seen before. There were projections as to its abilities, its value to society and its overall cost. The presentation was thorough and lengthy, not wanting to overlook any important fact; but it had in fact only taken a few seconds to view. Wasting time was wasting money and utility, after all. Feeds were faster than words.

After the presentation feed was finished, the Operations Manager said, “I brought you here because of your input on its effects on society and business. The scientific evaluations have already been done, but your expertise lies in societal and sociological influence projections. So now I open up the discussion.”

One of the men, almost robotically said, “I see it as a boon to capital. Production in all areas of industry could only increase.”

“Yes, H2816,” said the Operations Manager.

A woman then said with a little more inflection in her voice, “People will be scared at first and must be taught the benefits before they will adopt unilaterally. That is, if the product works according to projections.”

“A very good observation. It will be noted and acted upon,” said the Operations Manager.

“Do you have a test subject willing at this time?” said another, older woman.

The Operations Manager nodded. “We are narrowing down the choices right now. We believe many will desire to volunteer. The advantages in productivity could be great.”

“Have there been simulated tests already?” said a man with a dark complexion.

“There have,” said the Operations Manager, “and they all tested with a positive outcome. But we cannot tell, even with these test results, how it would interact with live flesh. Flesh is so. . .” he made a face of disgust, “undependable.”

“Yes,” they all agreed.

“But then again,” said the Operations Manager, “that is why we are here, and that is why the company exists.”

“Yes,” they agreed again.

“Technology is the highest achievement of man,” he began, and they all said together with utmost conviction, “and it will lead us to the brightest possible future.”

Samuel got up early the next morning. There were too many thoughts and feelings pressing in on him and sleep had already been difficult that night. Today, he had a new assignment that might prove to be the most dangerous he had ever taken. Though, truth be told, he was his own boss.

Staring at the sunrise, he thought about why he did all of this. Why risk his life, again? He could have a good life here. The Waldenese led a much better life than anything he had known with the Technos. No place was perfect, but at least here there was peace. He could rest from old wounds. This was a place where he could begin again to rebuild the dreams of his youth. Because the dreams he had made while he was young with the Technos were lies and smoke. Here, he could build a future. Maybe he could even settle down, get married again.

But there was always this thing compelling him to move forward. Ever since he left the Technos, he felt that it was his duty to serve as a gate for others. There were other people trapped in the Techno lifestyle, not knowing a better life was available to them. They needed someone they could turn to show them the way out.

He could see the “progress” the Technophiles were making in their advances. He had rejected the upgraded chip that received feeds, but he knew they were making advances all the time. He felt humans were never made for the kinds of demands that the new technology would put on them. At some point, people would rebel against the technology or else their bodies would reject it. He had seen enough examples to know that this rejection occurred in many forms, but it was always devastating and, as in the case of X4287, these people would be discarded, ignored, or in even worse cases, used for more extreme experiments when they thought there was nothing to lose.

Yes, he had to go back, these Technos may be smart, but wisdom was far from them. They did not know the true value and purpose of a life.

Samuel heard his men stirring. As they awoke, he gave instructions for them to pack up and get ready to leave. They did so quietly, so as not to wake the family or others who had taken refuge there. The mud dwelling was dark, but there was enough light to get ready.

Poke woke up on her own, and coming to where Samuel was standing outside the house, she asked, “Would you and your men like a good breakfast? I know you do not get much when you go out there.”

Almost with an ache, Samuel said, “I would love that more than just about anything, but not this morning. I have a new mission this morning, and I need to be somewhere with my men before the sun gets too far up. Coffee might be helpful though. I didn't sleep well.”

“Certainly,” she said, and was off to make it.

Samuel stared at the fire for a couple of minutes. Soon a burly man with a wide neck who was dressed in black came and sat beside him quietly. Then he said, “Samuel, are you going out again?”

“Yes,” he said with a sigh.

“Well,” said the other man, “I just wanted to say you are an inspiration to a lot of us. Be safe.” He put a hand on Samuel’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” said Samuel. He looked up to identify the man, but he had already stood up and was walking away.
Who was that?
thought Samuel.
Do I know him?

He continued to sit by the fire and think. Since the Waldenese had rejected most technology, they had no electric appliances, no stoves. Poke added some wood to the fire from last night, just outside of the house, and took a metal pot, adding the coffee grounds directly into the pot with the water. Later, she strained the grounds out as she poured it for the men.

After Poke had given the men some coffee, Samuel said to her, “You know, each time I go out it is dangerous, sometimes very dangerous. I do not know what they would do to me if they caught me. Probably kill me as an impediment to progress. I suppose the one fear I have each time I leave is not that I will die, but that I might die away from this place and your family. You and Sydney and even the kids have become family to me. And as a man who has not had a real family in a long time, that has great worth. More than anything the Technos might value, family has worth. If I die, I would want to die here, not out there without family.”

“I understand,” she said. “Family is worth more than everything else, and you are a part of our family. You remember that. No matter where you are, we are still your family.”

“Thanks,” he said.

After that, Samuel and his men put on their gear, which included weapons (stunners mostly and some batons for hand combat), whatever loose clothing they could wear in layers, some technology that would help them in the Techno's environment, and one book to read on the road. That latter meant more to them than might be expected. They had all come from the Techno's world, and books were not read to them, being barely even accessible. The Technos wanted all new information to be accessed through the use of technology, believing that eventually unlimited information would be available faster this way. Now, these men having escaped that world, savored what had been denied them: The relaxing experience of reading a book that they loved at their own leisure. Most of the men would read the book they chose over and over, savoring it, chewing it slowly, digesting every part and then quoting their favorite passages when they came to mind. Then, after a month or a few months they might have a chance to get a new book. So they chose carefully, if there was a choice, wearing each book out until it would begin to lose pages and then binding it together with string.

They were ready, each of them ready to give their lives for the mission, though they did not always know the objective until they got there. They trusted Samuel's leading, knowing he was always thinking about them, calculating safety into everything, but still having a goal worth dying for. If the goal was not worth that, then there was no reason to leave this place. People were worth dying for, not machines. That was one value they all kept dear. They had seen what machines did to people, now that their understanding of the world had changed, and they wanted to offer people what had been offered once to them.

“Let's go,” Samuel said.

“Class, today I want to talk to you about utility.” The students were quietly, paying attention. “Utility is the idea that everyone has something worth giving. Each one of you can give worth to yourselves by being of worth to society. Let me give you an example.”

The teacher walked around the room. “E5528?”

“Yes?” she said.

“What are you good at?”

The child thought for a moment. “I like to draw.”

“Drawing,” the teacher said, “has no utility. People who draw are among the Castaways, those who do not want to be productive. The Castaways are not interested in making society better, they only care for themselves. They are selfish. Do you want to be a Castaway?”

The student got embarrassed. “No,” she said quietly as she looked at the ground.

“As I was saying,” the teacher went on, “utility is what give us value. Now, in the case of E5528, she may be good at drawing, but that is not a usable utility. Later, when she is older, she may be good at using her imagination to help engineers design innovative products. She might even help design new and useful chips.”

A hand shot up in the front row, “Yes?” the teacher said.

“When will we get our chips?” He was a new student. Still quite young.

“When you go on to Phase 2 of your schooling. For you that will be five more years.”

The same student, “But if the chips make us know things, why do we have to learn here?”

“Because,” said the teacher, a little frustrated, “if you do not know how to be useful, you will not know what to do with a chip when you have it. You have to know what is important and what your place is in society.”

Another student put up a hand.

“Yes.”

“I heard that the Castaways called themselves something different.”

“That's right,” said the teacher. “They call themselves the Waldenese, which they think is a good thing. Walden was a story about a lazy man who wanted to leave society in order not to contribute to it any longer. Then he could do whatever he wanted, not thinking about the needs of anyone else. He could have even died out there and it would have made no difference to society, for he had done nothing to improve it.”

“But we are all one people and we work toward the common good,” one of the older and brightest students said.