Akanor: Tales From Necro Box Set Page 9

  “Peasants,” said Yulius with his snobby accent. “They’re all dumb bastards in need of a video game to learn anything. Historically, people used to read. But now we're so civilized that we’re borderline illiterate. Have you noticed?”

  From somewhere in Beverly Skies, music raged with the buzzing misgivings of intense electro-convulsive-destructive-tonica (or ECDT, the popular music in Dance Arenas). The so-called music consisted of high-pitched electrical sounds cycling in erratic patterns. Some of the users waiting in line to enter the Health Box were already dancing in concentric circles, hypnotized by the buzzing sound, their emotional cloth emoting grey shadows in a fast pattern. Yulius’s hip began to move. He stopped the behavior immediately. He loathed it. Even more so because the music was contagious.

  “Reading and handwriting are no longer required, Robert,” started the AI. “The Protocol Arbiter has declared such habits a bane from the past that must vanish. They are Old Memories, souvenirs as you call them. People are well off with their OHP-I devices. We do everything for you: read you the news, books, magazines, your messages; tell you what’s for dinner; inform you of the price in credits for anything you wish to purchase on- or offline. You’re one of the few who reads for leisure, Robert. People can communicate effectively through RetinaChat and watch videos to understand a message. Body language has always been more effective than words—this has been scientifically proven countless times.”

  There was a time when a man's mind was his most important asset. Now it's his gut and his laughter, thought Robert. He was staring with disgust at the crowd dancing in concentric circles. Some users had already clumped like bacteria, forming an organized spiral, each individual chasing after the other in a never-ending merry-go-round. The dancers’ emotional clothing was mimicking their emotions in a dull, grey display of flickering lights.

  “Why would a human need to think if the thinking can be done for him by the government? Humans need only watch and enjoy, eat and digest, smile and laugh, dance and feel the music. Look at your other human brothers and sisters. Those users look happy. It’s what you’ve always wanted as a species: happiness. I am here to make sure you’re pleased and fulfilled, Robert. Remember the good old saying in the show Honky Dory — live in the now!’

  Anicor intentionally amplified the music. The sound was like a madman growling at a distance, with pounding beats in an erratic rhythm.

  “Stop that rubbish!” yelled Yulius as he got in line behind a dancing middle-aged man. The user in front of Yulius must have been around seventy years old. This age group was labeled as the second adolescence, the second shift, or even the great peregrination to maturity.

  Holographic banners announced new foodstuff made of maize, or who had won the yearly raffle for a bionic pancreas (BP), announced as the “BP Victor!” A bionic pancreas (BP) implied no longer needing to use diabetes pills and/or insulin. A BP was a luxurious item in Texalifornian culture. It could only be obtained by winning the annual government-issued raffle, in which you participated by enlisting in the Armed Forces.

  A myriad of people stared at the tall, rectangular-faced man wearing an inch-thick layer of makeup and a golden wig. His coat was long and the color of a fox’s fur, covering his entire plump body all the way down to his Roman sandals strapped around his chunky ankles and calves (which no one could appreciate since he was dressed from neck to toe). Robert mentally prepared himself to socialize. By now, most of the people in line must have used their OHP-I to Retinize his face with a RetinaCommand.

  Robert—better said Yulius—received several invitations to join a RetinaChat. He dismissed them all. He also received seven InstantSex offers from various users and declined them. Users started taking pictures of the superstar using their eyepieces. It was evident to Robert by how they were blinking.

  At first, none of the citizens dared stare at the superstar for more than a second. But as the collective reacted as an organism, they stared for longer periods of time, waiting for whomever was brave enough to speak out loud the name of the famous man.

  And here it comes, thought Robert with annoyance as he stood there like a monument. Better put on a pretty face for these creatures!

  “Hay! It's Yulius eberybody! Wow! Dee Actor!” yelled a young man with a normal plump face and big cheeks. His emotional clothing gleamed orange and then shifted back to the dance of grey colors.

  Yulius grew uncomfortable as a flourish of lights glowed around him in what seemed to be a concert of doped fireflies. “You should greet them. Good Civilian Law states you should be nice to others. They are your fans, Robert,” implored Anicor.

  Yulius sighed before saying, “Hello, lads,” trying to sound as snobby and educated as possible. Someday I’ll provoke a colorful reaction in one of these automatons, thought Robert.

  Robert had no clear answer to the end game of his desires. He just knew he wished to make others feel the freedom of thought. He wished for other users to understand there was more to life than just entertainment and sweetness.

  “Say, what’sa lad?” asked an attractive, young brunette woman with perky nipples shining through her emotional shirt. She was slurping on a five-gallon sized corn-cola strapped to her shoulders. Two straws connected to the container were used for continuous slurping. Other citizens were eating corn-apples. These came from ultra-GMO modified to yield giant, head-sized kernel. These were then soaked in corn syrup for pickling and served like an apple. It was eaten with the hands.

  Yulius turned his head to find many other faces staring at him with much more than simple admiration. They were regarding him as a god. The entertainment god, the only one that mattered aside from the sweetness god that pacified their brains.

  “So there's the big Actor, the snob of Globus Theater,” said a plump figure moving out of the line. This user’s emotional cloth was different, noticed Robert. It shined in a dance of grey lights and occasionally flickered red and pink, and then a fragment of yellow and blue. It was evident to Robert this man’s emotions were more complex. This was no average citizen. “Nice wig, by the way. Has your AI ever advised you on dressing up with the cool, normal clothing we use today? See this?” The man pointed at his shirt and pants, “Emotional shirts and pants with self-cleaning properties. I can shit myself and this thing would keep me clean. The Samites, dude, I tell you. Those nanos are a wonder. They even clean the air!”

  "Whatsa wig?" asked one of Robert’s fans to its Anicor. The OHP-I wasn’t capable of reading thoughts, yet. Users had to employ a RetinaCommand to summon the AI. However, RetinaChat enabled various users to interact without words. If a pair of users stared at each other, their OHP-Is were capable of establishing a wireless connection. You could exchange thoughts directly without text or speech. It was the closest thing to telepathy. It was called RetinaMind, but users just called it Telepathy because it sounded more exciting.

  RetinaChat, however, was different in that it involved using an interface where users texted each other or recorded speech to interact at any distance. As long as you had someone’s username, you could send them a RetinaChat request. It was common to find citizens form group chats of two hundred or more individuals in a single RetinaChat.

  “Hello, Arthur. We meet, unfortunately, again,” said Yulius. He tightened the fur coat around his plump body. The Actor made every effort to seem noble and highborn, although nobody knew what that meant anyway.

  A bright blue icon appeared on Robert’s iTop display—Arthur had sent Yulius a RetinaChat request. The Actor declined the invitation with a RetinaCommand.

  Arthur flushed with anger when he saw that he had been rejected. The Hollywood star flipped back his silver, straight hair with a flick of his head, his dark eyes shining with jealousy and contempt, his emotional cloth evoking the emotions in real time.

  A young woman approached the renowned Hollywood star, Arthur Mirkas, who played in the series Texalifornia: The Empire of Reason. Arthur stared at her, she stared at him. It was obvious a Retina
Mind was being established. When the young woman was close enough to Arthur, he stuck his hands under her shirt and down her pants. By now they had probably exchanged InstantSex requests. It was surprising they didn’t copulate right there. It was considered normal to have sexual intercourse in public. Arthur then dismissed her with a smile, surely inviting her after hours to his apartment in one of the skyscrapers in Beverly Skies.

  “Seems your five years of supreme acting are about to end,” said Arthur once he was done interacting with the other user. He wiped the saliva off his face and continued, “And I’m glad: I’m sick of seeing your ugly face on my iTop. You aren't that great at acting. I'm sure you already know that,” the Hollywood star sneered.

  “And I'm surprised you can even articulate your words, Arthur,” answered Yulius. “Have you any idea of what we are, you and I? Oh yes, we have much in common. You have no clue we're both used as puppets. You are a disgraceful puppet. PUPPET!” yelled Yulius. It was a powerful shout.

  The Actor immediately took a step back. He was in awe to find he had said those words out loud. The sudden flare of hatred made Robert Thorns aware that some monster inside him was surfacing. This monster was called depression, or perhaps misery, or perhaps a greater mix of emotions hidden under the makeup.

  Arthur's eyes turned glossy, almost predatory. “F-UCK! Y-OU! I am no one’s puppet, you hear?”

  “Whatsa paappet?” asked a young man around them, mindlessly munching on a corn-apple.

  “Faight! Faight!” started yelling the users around the actors. Colored flares from the emotional clothing painted the scenery with an orange gleam intermixed with red; other users grew concerned, their clothes turning purple and grey. The agitation became a hysteria, quickly inciting a group of citizens to start kissing and interchanging InstantSex requests. A threesome was already happening outside the circle of people surrounding the actors who were about to fight.

  Flashing beams of blue-and-white light filled the air as a Flagellated Pelican hovered in from the Skyway. It was the Leukoforce. This war vessel was yet another successful product from the meshwork of biological and technological advancements. It was the perfect example of biomimicry, perhaps the most-issued warcraft by Minotaur Biotech. The fully armed hovercraft was efficiently tethering metal amalgams with organic, live matter.

  It was called a Pelican by its creators in Minotaur Biotech because the ship itself had a large cockpit (like the bill and pouch of the bird going by the same name). The ship was alive and reacted quickly using its internal nervous system. Like a tamed animal, it would respond to the commands given to it by its pilots within the cockpit.

  The civilian-controlling vessel hovered in circles over the crowd. It was powered by fusion reactors spewing out heat and a bluish hue. The ship itself flapped to stay balanced.

  The Pelican had two long, whip-like tails, a modification which proved to stabilize the warship enhanced for civilian control. These tails were called flagella, aptly named by scientists after the amoeba, hence the name Flagellated Pelican.

  The Pelican lifted dust, its flagella waving behind it like a rat’s tail in increasing frequency as it neared the ground, finding its balance.

  A tormenting .50 caliber automated railgun rested bellow the Pelican’s cockpit, moving from side to side, threatening to liquefy the agitated citizens with its raging one hundred shots per second. The railgun was specialized for infantry—and citizens. Randomized Controlled Trials had proven its efficacy in pulverizing human flesh.

  A voice filled the air: “Disperse the mob or you will be fired upon! I repeat: Disperse the mob or you will be fired upon! This is your last warning!”

  Two officers landed on the pavement, deployed from the Pelican’s belly. They descended with a controlled fall thanks to the jetpacks built into their armor. Their armor was made of compounded spiderweb fibers and flexititanium and was finished with a white polish. The armor was joint specific, harboring hydraulic spindles to improve normal human strength fivefold. At the center of the chest was the UniCorn logo. This particular armor was the FT-100, the lowest of its class. FT-200 and above had built-in missile launchers and other heavy artillery, specifically created to destroy enemy war vessels and cities.

  “What is this about, gentlemen?” said the officers, their commands distorted by the voice converter of the ant head-like helmets they wore. The Leukoforce officers sounded menacing. Robert had gone pale below his makeup, invisible to the crowd. Arthur, however, shat his pants, a mishap already tended to by the nanobots in his clothing.

  “Anicor summoned help, violence erupt here. In Texalifornia, violence not good and punished very badly. Good Civilian Law! Good Civilian Law! Wait’a minute…you…you! Yulius! Hey, Charlie, is that…”

  “Golly! I think…I think it is!” Charlie and the other officer removed their retractable helmets with a RetinaCommand, exposing short-haired jarheads damp with sweat. Their glossy eyes were full of admiration. “We watch all of you, Mr. Zezar. We saw all episode two hundred fifty-nine and wowy, I love it! Thanks to you me enlisting in the Armed Forces tomorrow! Me couldn't happiness to die! Die! Die!”

  “Hello, Mr. Zezar!” boomed the Pelican’s vocal cords as the pilot inside the cockpit waved his hands to greet the famous Actor. Robert couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  Yulius waved back at the pilot to avoid conflict, but he truly wanted to unleash an overwhelming buildup of frustration. He was seeing the epitome of his demise. This individual wanted to die because of the words he had said!

  “Mr. Zezar, this man bothering you, yes? He needs Reinforcing. Reinforce is the Course to Reinforce Humanity! Yes!” said the officer named Charlie, pointing a correctional finger at the Hollywood star.

  “Wait a minute!” yelled Arthur. “I act on the popular show—!”

  “Scumbag! Baboon! Enemy! Anyone bothers The Actor is an enemy forever. Any user with sense that is common knows that that is stupidity. Good Civilian Law! Good Civilian Law! Reinforcement for you now. Period.”

  Arthur was zapped with a high-voltage behavioral rod and taken into custody for what would come to be the worst 24 hours of his lifetime. The officers took off, propelled by their jetpacks, the limp body of the restrained actor dangling in the air between their arms.

  “…they respond so quickly,” said Robert. He felt bad for his competitor, even if he did loathe the half-star. The Flagellated Pelican flapped its organified, metallic wings. With a pulse of its nuclear fusion propellers, it returned to the Skyway.

  “I Retinized them in,” said the AI.

  “You what? Why? This wasn't going to escalate by any means. As if I would fight with someone else. Please, I’m more civilized than that. You’re so rash,” snapped Robert.

  “I can assure you my behavior is not as surprising as the unpredictable human emotional flares. Why do you think emotional shirts are so important? It’s indicative of emotional control. And, for your information, Arthur's personal AI sent me his vital signs. He seemed upset. Plus, his blood sugar was running dangerously high. In the correctional facility, he will be infused with intravenous insulin. His electrolyte imbalances will be corrected.”

  “Oh, you’re such a hero, Anicor—are you suddenly feeling human? In need of validation, aren’t we?”

  “Not at all, Robert. I am self-possessed, and my systems do not require any other validation than the protocols installed in my database. Such was issued by the Protocol Arbiter.”

  “Anicor, what I’m saying is this could've been handled with words rather than force.”

  “A measure proven to fail in humanity's history,” said the AI. “I can reference many articles supporting this fact. Do I need to remind you we’re currently on the brink of entering World War IV? Humans’ insecurities surprise me. It has led you to many wars in the past.”

  “Whatever…Get me to the Health Box so I can go to sleep, damn it.”

  ***

  Robert stepped in front of a three-by-three meter carbon fib
er cube. The Health Box’s surface was dark grey and non-reflective. The material was able to absorb most of the invisible radiation from the sun that managed to pierce the thick Samite cloud.

  In place of solar panels, the Health Box’s outermost surface was covered with Chloro-fibers. Each fiber had chlorophyl-like nano units that converted the sun’s invisible radiation into storable and usable energy.

  On each side of the Health Box, the name of the machine was imprinted in white letters: “ECBCN&R-500, property of Texalifornia.” Small print underneath the title read: [Endoscopy-Colonoscopy-Body-Carbon and Neutron scan with Lasosurgical procedures and Gama Radiation Therapy].

  A promotional hologram read: “Now equipped with the capacity to make any surgery with nano scalpels! Nano missiles can treat any cancer-delivering radioactive gamma rays to the radical cells! Avoid health taxation in less than twenty minutes a year!” The logo of UniCorn was also visible on all four faces of the machine.

  Robert stepped in front of the RetinaScanner. He saw his iTop display turn blue, then green, granting him access to the Health Box environment. A chime welcomed the user. A big green check emerged at the center of his iTop display.

  A voice rung out with a melodic rhythm inside the healthcare environment, "Welcome, Mr. Robert Thorns. Thank you for using the Health Box system by your one and only Texalifornia. Please take a seat and enjoy these twenty minutes of relaxation as we scan and treat your body. If a procedure is indicated where cancer or atherosclerotic disease is found, you will be operated on immediately and without further notice. Complications may arise, including but not limited to pain; nausea; vomiting; diarrhea; bowel, heart, liver, kidney, or brain perforation; and death. If death were to ensue, then your body will be used as fertilizer. Texalifornia thanks you in advance in the event of death. Please enjoy. Thank you.”

  Robert sat down and removed his fur coat and underwear, hanging both on a hook on the lateral wall. He raised the dress he wore up to his hips and placed his naked bottom over the illuminated seat. Robert relaxed on the recliner, his head resting on a soft pillow. The cubical space within the machine darkened, and soft music played in the background. “Enjoy your time spent in the Health Box as we meticulously search for potential diseases. No cell is small enough for us. If it’s a radical, we’ll destroy it. With this fantastic technology, your body will be remastered and ready for more of life’s demanding schedule! Relax as we prepare your colon for the endoscopic procedure. Please count back from fifty as the anesthesia takes you for a ride…”