Fortress Farm - The Pullback
Page 33
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Rowan placed his forehead against the window of his meditation chamber. He estimated about two weeks passed since GRAPEVINE shut down the world as he knew it. The world as I created it. That realization came to his mind a few days ago. The real world really wasn’t a bunch of wires and silicon. GRAPEVINE existed as a mask over the real world, trying to keep humans from facing the realities existing for thousands of generations. Had it been for the good of mankind that he attempted to shelter the world from those realities? He thought so at one time. I think my intentions were good, but now I’m not so sure.
He munched on a protein bar he took from the plastic cooler sitting in the back corner of his chamber. That mysteriously appeared the morning he awoke trapped in this room. Rowan hadn’t noticed it for two days; he was too busy beating on walls and crying on the floor, begging for help. Someone left him enough water and food, if you can call it that, to take the edge off whenever he was hungry or thirsty. The mystery benefactor also left him what appeared to be a type of modern chamber pot. The seal on the lid kept the stink from his waste to a minimum in the small room. But without any constant air exchange, the odor still lingered after the lid was opened.
During all his time trapped here, he witnessed only one person wandering around the grounds below. Hard telling where everyone went, Rowan thought; even he didn’t actually live in The Spaceship itself. He owned a multi–million dollar condo a few miles from here, though he hadn’t set foot inside for almost a month before the power went out. Assuming that most people stayed at home the day after the Old World died, he began to run through the scenarios that probably happened.
Funny, he never considered what might happen in his employees' lives before now. He didn’t know who might have families near or far. Even ages or backgrounds were a mystery to him. He knew their religious affiliations, but mostly because they were followers of the Continuity Path. At least, that’s what they professed. For sure it’s what they all practiced; Rowan and the other business leaders in the Valley made sure of that. There was no written policy excluding other faiths, of course. No need to mess with some lawsuit from an old religion type. Everyone just knew the key to getting hired and staying employed meant completing the Progressions and building an elite Profile.
The Progressions began as simple meditation techniques and classes on self–improvement. A class here and there on how to stay focused on your task then led to goal-setting. Goal-setting classes was followed by setting priorities. And setting priorities inevitably led to the realization that your priority better be your assigned function at work. To soften the work aspect of the Progressions, Rowan insisted that classes on inclusion be made part of the curriculum. Under the guise of openness, Gatekeepers of Continuity proved any religion built on a set of hard and fast rules was outdated, out of touch, and out of time in modern life. Continuity by its very nature was exclusive towards those with other beliefs or those whose sole focus wasn’t work, but Rowan’s psychology team was the same as his marketing team. The classes were created to flow together perfectly. By the time the hook was set, people were so excluded from their extended families or their own traditions that failure at Continuity felt like failure at life.
Had Continuity itself been a failure? How could the Profiles live without electricity? Would the main hubs of the Network still be functioning, even now? He thought about the small nuclear reactor sitting ten miles away from here, hooked directly into this building. Who was maintaining that? Would it melt down?
Rowan wasn’t concerned about the safety of the reactor itself. It was almost a mile down, encased in concrete, and The Spaceship sat outside of what nuclear engineers insisted was the estimated blast zone. But what about the constant source of power that was promised? Five hundred years without refueling, and near-perfect environmental impact. The space-age system seemed like a dream come true when first proposed and functioned so well everyone forgot how much electricity the Network used. They tried solar for a while, but the conversion rate just couldn’t keep up the gigawatts needed to keep modern life functioning.
Rowan’s wandering mind was interrupted by sudden movement on one of the paths below. People! One, two, ten, now twenty figures emerged from the brush and trees surrounding the Spaceship campus. I might be rescued!
Wait, what if these were the looters I warned Angela about? He told her they would be coming…did they look friendly? Intentions were difficult for him to determine from ten stories up in the air. But he could tell they were carrying something. Behind the group, a tractor slowly crawled up towards the front entrance. Rowan lost sight of the group as they made their way around the building.
Why would they bypass the main entrance? The only other place to enter the building was the loading dock area hidden at the back of the building. The hardware, food and office equipment needed to run modern corporations, or small cities as they had become, were received in the back. Even companies that dealt in the virtual required some physical items.
Interesting, so this group intended to enter the building, but probably learned from previous experience that back doors were easier to breach than the reinforced front door. That’s quite intelligent, he thought, must be quick adapters.
A more sinister and disturbing thought crept like a shadow into his mind…if groups were so brazen as to drive a tractor right up to the headquarters of the most powerful corporation on the planet there must be zero law enforcement in the area. Panic pumped adrenaline into his veins, filling Rowan’s mind with terror. Similar to his experience the night GRAPEVINE died, but this time more primal. And much more immediate.
What happens if they find me? What will they do with me…will I be offered the chance to join the group? He certainly doubted it. Rowan never once experienced manual labor in his entire life. He only knew how to work on software; the idea of hardware to him was a bank of servers in the basement. What good would a skill like that be to the group? Maybe they’ll at least kill me quick, I couldn’t take torture. His thoughts raced – now he wasn’t worrying about escaping from his prison room, he was worried about how he could keep others out.
Rowan looked around the room again for anything he could use as a weapon. Nothing. He tried to remember any fighting moves he had seen on movies. What good would that do? These beasts breaking in probably have guns. What could I do against that? What could I do against anything? He was worthless as a man, simply a control interface plugged into the Network. With the Network gone, he was obsolete. The panic in his mind melted away. At least it’s settled. No more worrying about how to get out of the situation. He was caught in the trap, and the predators were on their way. Without some way to fight and to survive, and with no tribe of his own to help him, he was at the mercy of the monsters on the way.
He moved over to his meditation chair, staring at the beautiful blue sky facing back at him. Not a bad place to meet my end, actually. Had to happen sometime. Perhaps I can meditate deep enough to escape most of the pain. Rowan worked his way through meditation techniques taught to him as a child by his transcendental guru parents. In his mind’s eye, he sat as a child at the foot of the master. New visions of the Progressions formulated in his mind.
He now understood. I have to be torn down to be rebuilt, he thought. How can one experience ecstasy without knowing agony? Why am I smiling? Certain death is heading my way, yet I’ve never known peace like this. The sun’s rays penetrated his body.
The sun lights my Path, Rowan thought. We must follow the sun’s energy to where our Profiles will live on.
His only regret was that he wouldn’t be able to help others see the True Path now. Perhaps Angela had understood this truth on that night, a night that now seemed a lifetime ago. If I set the true believers on the right course originally, even if I strayed myself, some good has come of my life. His Profile wouldn’t live on through the Network, but at least their
s would. That’s more than something, that’s everything, Rowan thought as the deepest sleep he ever felt washed over him.