by Zaslow Crane
At least those are still mine!
“We are troubled given the things we’ve seen in your basic… well…deficiencies.”
Oh, I am so screwed!
“We believe that the only way to preserve Order within our society is to nip these problems in the bud!”
One level down? No!
She paused girding herself for the final blow.
My breath sped up. I’d sensed my doom.
“There is little doubt that you will be a drag on society if you’re not directed in a better way. “A Smarter Path,” as they say in the Public Service ads.”
She drew out the verdict as if she was enjoying it. She wanted me to squirm.
I did. Repeatedly.
“And so, we have, after careful consideration decided…”
Get on with it! If you’re going to screw me, just do it! Don’t drag it out!
“…that it is important to the State that you get a position.” A chit fell out of the drawer. It was purple.
“You will provide work and service for your food chits. This chance will keep you busy and out of trouble.”
I looked at the purple chit as if I’d just taken a big hit of Duster.
I wasn’t certain that it was really there.
I touched it and felt a bit better.
It is real!
I put it in my pocket and followed the instructions accompanying it.
lll After a month in DeepSleep, I was trained and ready for my assignment. No one warned me that I’d not be back until after training.
I hope that my cat is okay.
I rode an elevator that wasn’t all used up and scarred. It wasn’t new, but at least it worked. In a few more minutes, I had reported to my new job. I was given my assignment, and shown into my work area.
I was cementing my next three years of food chits, and all I had to do was be able to stand this job for four weeks. All I had to do was follow procedures and help people.
After a few minutes, someone entered and spoke in the receptacle into my plexicurtain. And then, as I was trained, I said: “Thank you for being more or less on time. Your government appreciates it. Put your hand in the socket, please.”
All For A Breath Of Fresh Air
BY ZASLOW CRANE
I
could easily see a small, but livid grouping of pimples getting ready to ransack the skin of the young attendant at the renta- car place. The screen was very high rez and, she was of course, virtual. I viewed her image in the holo-interface thoughtfully provided by the renta- agency. She couldn’t hide her disbelief and was obviously a bit aghast that I’d bother to actually go to a place personally to borrow a vehicle.
I’m probably the only customer she’s ever seen “in realsies.” “I lost a bet,” I lied. The truth might take hours of explaining to an uncomprehending virtual listener, certainly one so youthful, who’d grown up knowing nothing else.
She tried to help.
Well, can’t you buy your way out of it? I mean, the expense and time…just for one way, you’ll be outside for almost six hours! One way! Where will you sleep? What will you do…out there?”
This clearly was beyond the imagination for this young woman, cozy in bed, or comfy and safe at home with her virtual connection somewhere…remote.
“A bet is a bet. I said I’d go. A person has to honor his commitments. Your boss can depend on you being here, right? That’s a commitment, too.”
I paused and spread my hands in a ‘ta da!’ gesture. “Here you are,” I’d gestured to a sexless robot. Her image on the screen where a face would have been if I’d been speaking with a real person was one of deep and profound incomprehension. The vid screen was placed at head height to simulate a person-to-person encounter. I didn’t think, that in this case, it was “working.”
“I suppose…”
See? I knew that if I tried to really explain, I’d get that blank look. “Though…,” she continued sing-song’ey. “If I was like, sick or busy, or something, there’s always someone else,” she added as an afterthought. I imagined that I could see her shiver in a bit of fear or apprehension for me.
I mean, I could have had the renta- car delivered, but for some reason, I wanted this experience, too. I wanted to experience all of this trip. Besides my tiny terrace, I can’t remember when I was outside last.
When I was very young, I remember my parents taking me on trips. Orchestrated by my father, we would “go see the countryside” every month or so in a renta- vehicle. In retrospect, my folks were “throwbacks” even then. I think I need to break out of this cocoon that I’ve wrapped m’self in.
Just like this young lady “before me,” I “went into work” two or three days a week. I fulfilled my obligations. Working a six-hour shift now and then. I’d “inhabit” a robot, and suddenly it’d be a “he,” because I was in it…virtually, of course. When I left and it might be taken over next shift by one of my female co-workers, the ‘bot would then become a “she.” And so on. Business marches on, albeit with more mechanized workers these days than before, but the gods of commerce must not be denied. Buy we must; work we must.
Despite the demand for us to work, we rarely went to work. Most of us never leave our homes. We simply log into our computer terms and access work, play, and recreation opportunities…Whatever we desire.
As for socializing, well, 99% of that is done virtually as well. Before setting out on this journey from Altadena to Yosemite, I hadn’t seen any of my good, close friends in person for years. Entertainment, new clothing, dinners, random foodie items… all were delivered by drones, which dot the sky 24/7/365. Occasionally an unhappy looking driver will bring something.
“Unhappy” is the important word in that sentence. He…or she was unhappy b’cause they were “out & about” when they could (and should, presumably) be safely snuggified at home.
This is what I felt I needed t’change. I needed to go out and see things in the “realisies.”
Here’s an interesting example for you to consider: There’s an orchestra in Pasadena, near where I live. It’s quite famous. Every instrument is played remotely by a robot controlled from home, or from wherever else the musician chooses. By the way, they still sound fabulous. And, I say every instrument. That’s not entirely true. The percussionist still goes in. He stands there among the robots of various shapes, functions and sizes, looking just a tad out of place; uncomfortable.
He plays with all of his fellow musicians. But he’s the only one who actually shows up in person for rehearsal and performances. There’s an old musical saying: “There’s nothing dumber than a drummer.” In this case, in light of what I’m looking at now, I wonder rather if that old saying is not onto something.
So, looking at Yosemite “in the flesh” as it were, I wondered yet again: Why do this? I’d awakened one morning to question almost everything in my life. With so much free time, I “read” a lot. I’d been on another of my “reading binges.”
Of course, when I say reading and books that’s simply a way to describe an idea. There are no books at all any longer, of course. Books are all acted out in vid plays and very good CGI. I’d stumbled across a book on the exploration of the Antarctic. This was explored ages ago. I could go there if I chose in five minutes now of course. But why would I? Besides, it’s all melted now anyway.
Anyway, I was struck at the bravery and tenacity of these intrepid adventurers. I was struck by the hardships these fellows endured just to explore. Where has this impulse gone? It seems to have evaporated, as does spilled water on my terrace on a sunny day.
And I say fellows because now, anyone can go anywhere… virtually, but in this earlier age, all of the exploration was done exclusively by men. I suppose women were thought too fragile or undependable to traverse these unexplored wastelands.
What crap. This has not been my experience with women. One daring account, then another, and another…I began to devour these vid/books. It became the only thing I was interested
in. The nice folks at the Amazon/library/function checked in on me (under the aegis of one their mental health care functions, I assume) to make certain that I had not developed an unhealthy fixation.
“Oh, I go through these phases. Check my rentals… Sometimes I like detective stories; sometimes spy stories….”
This seemed to send them away knowing that they’d done their job and if anything were to happen; if any societal aberration were to occur, they couldn’t be blamed for not at least inquiring.
Besides I’d not lied. But this…exploration…This was something different; more…urgent.
Anyway, once I had the idea, it lodged in my brain and wouldn’t let go. It took a full fifteen minutes to locate a renta- dealership via my terminal. I guess there were still a few folks who actually went outside and drove to places physically…the eccentric…the very wealthy. I certainly didn’t fit the second description though, and as for eccentric? I’d never thought of myself in that way before.
I smiled, feeling very daring.
Things change.
It took even longer to find a selftaxi to take me to the renta- agency. When I made the vidcall, I was told I’d have to wait a while, because the car was busy.
The car was busy. The car? There’s only one of them for all of Pasadena? Incredible! Well, there would be more than one if there was the demand for it.
lll I took in a deep breath of the clean, pure air. It was delicious! The birds were singing, and I resolved to go hiking so long as I was here.
I stood overlooking Half Dome from the Yosemite parking area. It was stunning…a clear day…beautiful sky…no crowds. In fact, I was surprised to find myself here all alone. People used to make the pilgrimage to the most beautiful scene on earth; they’d arrive from simply everywhere, drawn by the pictures, the beauty. Now, it’s empty…And it’s pretty surreal ‘cause o’ that.
I’ve never married. I like my own company, but this sort of alone was a bit shocking. To be in a spot like this completely unaccompanied…I mean, my renta- car is the only car in the parking lot. And the parking lot is overgrown with weeds.
This speaks to a dearth of visitors for a long time…. A robotic version of a forest ranger instructed me that the paths were no longer maintained as so few people actually walked them.
“Since virtual tours of nearly anywhere, all of Yosemite included, could be accessed either without leaving home or by use of a proxy, why bother?” He, the ranger inhabiting this ‘bot was as uncomprehending as the renta- woman behind the renta- car counter.
“Drones can take you anywhere without the inconvenience of climbing and working hard…. It’s virtually the same experience.”
He paused. I imagined “him” accessing another argument against going down the paths.
“Why bother?” He finished as if this argument would convince any rational person.
Moreover, I already knew that if one was to send a surrogate, to see Yosemite for instance, they are, of course, equipped with extraordinary telescopic vision, thermal scans and much more. The entire experience…except that it wasn’t…entire. It was… synthesized. It was canned, and sterile.
And that is enough for most people…I mused. “That’s fine for them.”
Thanks to scientific advancements, the “need” to actually physically go there or to go anywhere, was pretty close to nil.
“I think that I need to do this….”
I know people who live at the bottom of the ocean… virtually. They study plants and animals, currents and seismic activity, all from the safety of their homes or research centers. A once somewhat hostile environment has been “tamed” by intrepid souls who are completely safe; but still virtually “there.”
And if you’d care to talk about a hostile environment: People “man” the Mars probes that now have “pilots” who work in full-day shifts for the now routine 228 days’ flight. It’s entirely virtual. The way things are going, it’s unlikely that Man will ever physically set foot on the Moon again, much less Mars. There’s serious talk of them using the Mars base to leapfrog to Jupiter. This, I’m told is, exponentially more dangerous, and so Man is further discouraged from going there as well.
One more reason to stay home.
“One small step for Man; one giant leap for Mankind,” is now a concept from the distant past; both in reality and intellectually.Virtually forgotten, though I’ve read about those explorers as well.
I’ve not forgotten.
I inhaled deeply.
Heaven.
I scanned the trees, feeling…well…Exhilarated.
Are people so scared, so lazy, so busy that I’m alone here today? Is that it? Well not me. I’m out…here! And it’s wonderful!
I looked around, spreading my arms to feel the breeze and warmth of the sun as fully as possible.
The canned tours can’t do this! Where to begin? This place is vast!
Of course, there were numerous interim stages on the way to this development. When I was a kid, people still went places. For a time, there still was travel…then it was slowly whittled away by the rising fuel costs and availability of travel diaries…. People started keeping virtual travel diaries, which were then sold to services and accessed by the thousands…by people who would like to see these things but don’t choose to leave the comforts of the home. I like to imagine that those young people who those original travelers interacted with in the vids are now grandparents; some of them quite wealthy from royalties, I’m told.
As for mementoes, always a standard part of every trip, all one needs to do again is access a given file. I have a friend who has “visited” every state in the Union. As a souvenir, he bought knives and other items from every tribe of Indians in the state he’d just visited. He just buys access to a file and has it sent to his 3-D printer. There you have it; from the printer to the display case. Between the virtual travel and the souvenirs, it has been, for years, difficult to dissuade him that his sort of travel wasn’t vastly superior.
…And, by implication: that he isn’t vastly superior as well… We’ll see about that now, won’t we? I thought smugly.
Now, as I stand here at the railing of Yosemite gazing out on the valley that has captivated so many people, for so many years, I finally know the answer, however difficult it might be to explain it to him when I see him next.
I see the birds. Real birds, not the ones that were captured on vidfiles years ago. I feel the sun; the heat radiating out from the old wooden railings. I feel the railing under my hands; I feel the pavement under my slippers; I see the fabled Half Dome mountain and it calls to me. I think about Burton, Stanley, Hillary, Shackleton, Byrd…the list goes on forever. Just for a moment, I imagined that I was one of their number, and just for fun, pretended that I alone had discovered this place; and I alone would be the first to go see it’s beauties for m’self.
“Going down the paths is no longer recommended…,” the young man in the robot stammered.
“Thanks. I’ll be careful.”
How bad could it be? Thousands, no hundreds of thousands of individuals have walked where I am walking.
“Well, if you must go, please stay on the trails and take this.”
The synthflesh hand proffered a small device.
I picked it up.
“What is it?”
“It’s a tracker…Just in case.”
“I don’t need…”
“Park rules. And, please bring it back. I only have the one….”
I looked at it again. A small green light blinked slowly, reassuringly.
“Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt.” I put it in my pocket.
“Thank you, sir. Also, the park closes an hour before dark. Please keep an eye on the sun and meet me here before then.”
“Okay.”
“Have a good walk.” I could see the consternation and worry for me on the face of the young man in the vidscreen.
Yeah, I don’t exactly know why myself. I only know that I need to really
go somewhere and do something.
Besides, I’ll have bragging rights for years with my friends.
I laughed a bit t’myself.
Maybe not. They’ll think I was crazy! No, they won’t.
I took a deep breath.
They’ll think that I was crazy brave!
I started down the path; the sound of fine gravel crunching beneath my feet mixing with a blue jay scolding me off to my left and rapidly dopplering away. The sound! I’ve never heard it quite this way on my system’s speakers!
“That’s amazing! Fantastic!” I murmured afraid to disturb the preternatural quietude of the place
I walked for a bit kicking up dust and occasional moist clods of earth.
Wow, this is really dirty. My slippers are getting destroyed. This isn’t how I remember things when my Dad took us out “camping.”
At this point, I noticed moisture pooling in my armpits. It was quite unpleasant.
There’s no atmospheric controls here. The books don’t talk about this at all. Our ancestors struggled for thousands of years to create “Inside”…Yet here I am outside. Is this my perverse nature? I’m outside. Outside is bad; it’s retrograde. And, I need to pee. How do I do that? Where do I do that? There is no…facility for urination.
What was I thinking?
My slippers now feel heavy and my progress is slow. This isn’t how I imagined it would be. Nothing like reading the books on the subject. And, when I was young, my Dad took care of all of the details; now…now? well…there’s dirt on my slippers… am I doing this wrong?
I considered turning back, but tossed the idea because I’d really only just left the parking lot.
I’ll be brave and stick it out.
The path wound its way down at around a ten-degree angle I’d guess. Steep but not unpleasantly so. I smelled a distinct aroma.
Is this real pine scent? It is certainly not a simulation? Wow!
Since humans have stayed away, the place is alive with little critters, curious at this new thing in their midst. They grab a quick glimpse and then disappear into burrows or brush.
