Read The Last Place to Stand Online

Authors: Aaron K. Redshaw

The Last Place to Stand (2 page)

From the moment X213 walked into her apartment to now, about 12 minutes had gone by, and 10 of that was just the sim. The rest of the night was very similar, different people, different events. Messages, feeds, news, entertainment. She barely had time to eat with it all. Into the night she bounced from one feed to another until she couldn’t focus anymore.

As she headed for bed, she put on the subliminal programming feed which assured her that her life would be more fulfilled if she would live in the new, better world of technological advances and savor all of the progress being made. After all, technology is the highest achievement of man.

Chapter 5

Morning light began to fill up the valley. There were no trees and no grass. The landscape was filled with recycling and refuse dumps in profusion, mostly piled high with electronics that had either gone bad or been outdated. Everything was a mixture of dull gray and shiny gray with some reflective surfaces. The skyline had a brilliant red hue coming from the waste gasses escaping old products. Red reflected in buildings and machines busy at work, and there were many busy machines. For one tenant this society held fast to was that if a task can be done by a machine, it ought to be. So robotic units outnumbered humans.

On the outskirts of one of the garbage heaps, some dark shapes began to move. One coughed, “Where are we?”

“At Refuse station 216,” said a voice that had just awoken as well. It was a man with dark skin, wearing what looked like a scarf wrapped around his head and face. He also wore loose fitting clothes, dark gray or brown. It was hard to tell in the early morning.

“What happened back there?” asked the first man. “I feel like I was beat up pretty badly.”

“You were stunned. They planned to have you refitted. That means they would have put a chip in your head that would limit your possible responses. You would have essentially lost free will.”

“I didn't know they could do that yet.”

“It's experimental at this point, but that wouldn't stop them from making you part of their new program. You're sore because of the stunning and also because we had to carry you for quite some time while trying to avoid them. I don't think we were always gentle with you or your family. We were trying to save you back there.” The man looked a little embarrassed for a second, “You did want saving, didn't you? I mean, they wouldn't have killed you, but—”

“Yes, absolutely,” he said. “We have been living in fear of discovery for a long time. We have not always held to the tenets laid down by the leaders of the city.” He coughed again, “What are you called?”

“Samuel,” he said.

“You use a name, like in the old days, rather than an ID signature?”

“As do you,” said Samuel.

“How did you know that?”

Samuel stood up and scanned the valley. “You may have been hiding from the authorities, who keep a general eye on things, but we have been seeking specifically for people like you for some time. We're pretty good at reading the signs, and we've been watching you ever since we were suspicious.”

“My name then, is Odysseus,” he said, still laying down on one side. “It's from an old story.”

“Yes,” Samuel said. “The master mariner and hero of the Trojan war. A good choice.”

“And your name,” said Odysseus, “comes from the Bible, doesn't it?”

“That's right,” Samuel said. “That would make us both readers, rather than only consumers of information. And that makes us prime targets for realignment. Or as I said, perfect candidates for their new refitting program.” Samuel squatted down beside Odysseus and his gaze fell near his right ear. “So what did you do to your chip? It looks like you still have it.”

“Ah, yes. If I had taken it out completely I’m sure I would have been captured. The whole city is slated for the new equipment by the end of the year. With the new system, they would be able to monitor us directly through the new feed technology. We wouldn't be able to hide anything. So I just filed down the connectors so they would not even get an 'urgent update' signal from my chip.”

“Good idea,” said Samuel. “Why did you do it though?”

Odysseus scratched his chin, “It wasn't that it was a bad thing having access to the database. I mean, it made some things more convenient, but it was what it did to my mind that bothered me.”

“Yes,” said Samuel. “As you can see, I've removed mine entirely. Did you get effects of having the chip, like memory dulling?”

“That's right. I remember once trying to recall my times tables so that I could figure the area of my floor and realizing that unless I got it from the chip, I couldn't do it. I had relied on the chip to the point that my own memory grew almost useless.”

Another voice from one of the sleepers said, “Are you kidding? I couldn't even add single digit numbers the other day.” Other people were beginning to shift their places and raise their heads.

“Samuel,” said Odysseus, “this is my son, Hamlet.”

“The Dane, excellent choice in names,” said Samuel. “I do hope you don't meet his tragic end. And beware of poisoned blades.”

“Odysseus, what you figured out,” said Samuel, “is that when we rely on technology too much, it causes our minds to grow dull. Me and my men wanted a different life, apart from all that.”

“Does that exist?”

“Come see,” said Samuel.

 

There was a groan, and a woman, probably in her early forties, with long dark brown hair sat up. Seeing Odysseus, she stood up, carefully walking over to him. “I feel like I hit my head on something,” she said. She bent down and put her arm behind Odysseus, “How do you feel, dear?”

“Fine,” Odysseus said, “Samuel, I want you to meet my wife, Jane.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Samuel. He extended his rough hand.

Odysseus, stood up with her and they held each other, Jane just a little shorter than Odysseus. For a moment, Samuel and the other men seemed a bit embarrassed.

“I'm sorry,” said Odysseus. “I know that such a show of affection is not common anymore.”

“Well, maybe not here, but where you're going I think you'll fit right in,” said Samuel.

They soon woke up their son Sam, who evidently was a sound sleeper. “Sam definitely likes his sleep,” said Jane as she called him out from his dream.

Once their other two children, Sam and Lucy, were awake, they began rummaging through the machine parts. They were the youngest. “This stuff is cool!” whispered Lucy.

“I think we'd better get moving,” Samuel said. “We will be easier to see by day, even for machines.”

That was when they heard the sound of something shifting in the garbage heap.

 

Chapter 6

The feed woke her up. It was like a stimulant the way a rush of news brought the mind to life. She had slept for three and a half hours--
not bad
, she thought to herself. She wondered how people ever slept for such long periods in the past. Technology had made it easier to require less and less sleep, even during her lifetime the time had shortened.

She cleaned herself, and got ready for work. Today there were some promising prospects to consider. She might be able to approve one almost immediately. She was actually looking forward to getting back to work.

Looking in the mirror she noticed the pallor of her skin looked washed out with a tinge of gray. She was glad that the old ideas of beauty had changed in recent years. People were no longer going with the old values. Now, in the modern era, utility and innovation far out-trumped the ideals of beauty and relationship. After all, work gives you purpose, and without purpose you are a waste of resources.

X213, even with her excitement about work, felt a sinking feeling that seemed to be dragging her down. It was the same one she felt every morning.
Nothing my morning pills won't solve
, she thought to herself. She took her allotment of pills with some coffee. She had one for the sinking feeling, one to make sure her body didn't reject the chip. Another one was a way of tricking the body into needing less sleep. Another one increased work performance. Every occupation had at least one prescribed drug that would increase performance for you for that job. It was just amazing what a simple pill could do. Without her pills, she would be a mess and probably wouldn't even be able to keep her job.
Well, got to take 'em
, she thought as she swallowed the last one.

When she was dropped off at work, she walked through the wide white doors with the inscription above: “Technology is the highest achievement of man.” The national motto. No wonder they were ahead of every other country in innovation.

She had always had a kind of a childlike faith in what an authority figure told her. When a doctor said she needed another pill, she had no response other than acceptance and obedience. When society seemed to espouse that less sleep and more work, even when at home, made her more valuable, she believed it as any good citizen would.

Sitting down at her desk, she began receiving multiple streams and approved and rejected proposals as quickly as her mind would run. They said that when she did this she was really in an altered state. It was as though she was dreaming so that time went by much slower than it felt to her. A work day might feel like weeks and weeks, but only be fourteen hours long.

One of the proposals caught her attention. As the packet came, she realized it was a protected and encrypted file. One that she was not given access to open. It had the seal of not just her boss, but the vice president of operations. It was to bypass her completely, pre-approved. She had never seen one of these before. But if the VP approved it, it must be good. It would be interesting to see what kind of project this could be. It certainly must be exciting and innovative.

The next one she opened was for a kind of device that improved hearing tenfold. This would be both due to digital audio refinement software as well as physical modifications made to the inner ear with the use of special plastics and chip integration. The proposal was well put together, but not as practical as brain interfaces, and not as quick to implement. Having a set of super ears, however, would be useful for certain professions. She designated this for the occupational enhancement division and sent it their way.

After that she had another come in which was a brain chip that modified the triage system in the brain, making it easier to prioritize according to company protocol. That could be useful, even for her. She sent that to her supervisor.

Next there were a couple of dozen which were advances either already implemented through different means or where similar concepts were already in development. One modification suggestion had already been made on the newer beta chip currently being tested.

In her mind, she saw documents, read them, looked at graphs and data and mentally sent them to other individuals. Hundreds might be processed in a few minutes. When she read them, it was really a more direct input than actual reading, but since she was in an altered state, kind of like a dream, she imagined she was actually reading.

To the outside observer, she was sitting in a chair staring at the inside of her cubicle. She had to take special eye drops before starting work in order to keep her eyes from drying out. She sat there almost in a trance, her eyes rapidly moving back and forth. The only thing that could call her out of this state was either a high priority feed arriving through the airwaves to her chip, and thus, into her awareness, or if someone physically shook her. Otherwise, she saw nothing, she heard nothing.

She would do this for another thirteen and a-half hours, then go home.

 

Chapter 7

The man awakes. His first thought is that he knows he is one of the unmentionables. The Burned Out. His second thought is a question:
Why can't I see?
He feels instinctively for his chip and it is gone. He can't believe this could have happened to him. Then comes a third realization. He is covered in something. It smells like burned out silicon, feels like plastic and has some sharp parts to it. He tries to uncover himself.

He hears someone coming toward him; sounds like several someones. They are trying to uncover him. One man says, “Are you okay?”

The man who is laying down can't really feel anything. “I'm not sure,” he says in a raspy voice, “I think so. Where am I?”

The rescuer says, “It's the city dump. Can you stand?”

“Let me try,” says the man. The rescuer helps him up, but his legs won't cooperate. He can't make them move, and after his rescuer lets him go, he falls back down. “I guess I can't,” he says. “They left me. Left me to rot. I'm Burned Out.”

“I understand,” says the rescuer. “We have come for people like you. Here, we can carry you.” Two guys take him by the arms, two by the legs and another holds up his midsection and they lift him into the air. It feels like he is flying, but he is also afraid of falling because he cannot see where he is going. He can still feel the blood around his eyes.

After they place him on a pad of cement, a rescuer says, “What is your ID?”

“I am X4287,” he says. “I used to have one of the newest chips. I could receive a dozen streams simultaneously, and my database was double the average user. I had one of the fastest seek times for information ever recorded. I worked for the government and I was a model of productivity and utility.” He felt his eyes. “Then I started having problems. It started with the shaking.”

“Yes, that's pretty common,” says another man’s voice. “I used to get those.”

“But then,” he continues, “my sleep dropped in half. Rather than the usual three, or four if you are an older model, I would be getting one and one-half. Sometimes I could not tell the difference between a feed and a dream. It was getting harder to tell the difference between being awake and asleep.”

“That's when I knew there was a problem. Things got worse. One day I was sitting down, receiving feeds while working on a project at work and checking my messages. The project I was working on required some powerful parallel computing. Anyway, I can't say more than that. When I needed to get up to use the restroom, I couldn't. My legs wouldn't work. I don't mean they were asleep, I mean I could no longer operate my legs. I panicked and yelled for help. A robotic assistant picked me up and took me to the doctor on site. After the AI examined me, he never gave me my results. He just summoned the carrier to pick me up and dump me off.”

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