Chronicles From The Future: The amazing story of Paul Amadeus Dienach

by Unknown

  I asked him how the lack of any form of enforcement, as he says, is compatible with the work of the Ilectors and the Lorffes.

  “Their role is more of a regulatory one,” he replied. “It’s more a duty than political power. Some of these wise men will decide, for example, if the application of a new technical or technological development would prove beneficial to the production of consumer goods, like food and other things; others will take up the job of regulating traffic; others will decide the pace of the coming of a new generation and so on. They haven’t invaded, however, personal lives and haven’t dealt with individual cases for centuries; there hasn’t been a need to. Sometimes, in the past, they had to intervene and that’s when they had true power. On the rare occasion, let’s say, of someone being ‘too fertile’, they would forgive any violation of the order of priority or the number of children they were allowed.”

  I couldn’t help myself and told him, “You speak of individual freedom, Stefan, but you seem to be forgetting your unnatural demographic limitations…”

  “Because, as I told you, these are general rules and not interventions in individual cases. According to this regulation, those who desperately want to have a child will get their turn in good time. And don’t worry; everyone is entitled to have children! The purpose is to meet the current demographic ‘rate of replacement‘, so that the next generation doesn’t end up being more populous than the current one throughout the whole earth. Essentially, this restriction is not as terrible as you think. It is a matter of order and understanding for the sake of humanity.”

  “In my era, which you call barbaric, we were much closer to nature and to individual freedom.”

  “The need wasn’t so urgent back then. Also, the division of the earth into rivalling political and economic powers engendered, in turn, a corresponding rivalry in terms of population. The danger of overpopulation had increased dramatically in the old days. After that, the world was in desperate need of regulation and now, as a result of that regulation, we’re at the point where it’s not about the quantity of people anymore, but about quality. In your era, the world population balance was effortlessly restored by your wars and epidemics; people died and people were born every day. But in our world these two ‘solutions’ have long become obsolete. So what choice did we have? If we stopped keeping track of the demographic indicators, all the flourishing science and technical applications could only maintain these high living standards of the international community for a short period of time, and, in the end, they would not be able to prevent its fall.”

  That’s when, from what I remember, Hilda walked into the room holding a bunch of flowers. Stefan abruptly stopped talking and, shortly after, we changed the subject.

  ROMANCING WITH SILVIA

  8-IX

  I stayed in all afternoon today. Since earlier in the day I haven’t been feeling so well, but Hilda took care of me and brought me a hot beverage. Now I feel much better. The books Stefan had ordered a while ago arrived with yesterday’s “distribution”. I sat with him and went through them to pass the time.

  9-IX

  I don’t know what’s wrong with me again today, but, once more, I feel the anticipation of great joy. Something tells me I might see her today… Throughout the night I felt wonderful. I left very early, with that fresh breeze of the dawn, and took a walk in the gardens and the forest. I don’t know why, but I often feel the urge to go out and walk by myself in uninhabited places like these.

  Stefan was wondering where I was and, when I returned, he asked me. I didn’t mention anything other than how well I was feeling. What’s the matter with me? One second I’m happy and the next tears are filling my eyes. Now, for example, I feel like crying. And to think that this morning I was filled with inexplicable joy. Even the sight of a single sun ray made me smile.

  What does destiny hold for me tonight? Am I going to see her? Is she going to join the group? I’m counting the minutes again… Counting the minutes…

  (At night)

  Nothing… Nothing… Once again nothing! I don’t understand… She knows exactly where we get together every evening… All these days…

  10-IX

  I last saw her a couple of days ago, crossing the park with a big group of people I didn’t know. They were chatting with each other as equals, with an apparent comfort and composure. I thought that if I were one of them, I would hardly be able to keep talking so tirelessly for so long. I felt a bit jealous of them…

  They were approaching the edge of the park, where I was sitting, and I didn’t know if I had time to pull myself together a bit. I was bedraggled and I was quite sure my complexion was ashen. Among other things, I was afraid she might think that I was sitting there with the sole purpose of seeing her. While passing, she turned and looked at me, as if she had just seen me. She barely greeted me, as if I had done something to her, and she didn’t look very thrilled to see me but, when our eyes met, just for a single second, I felt the happiest person alive for absolutely no reason. And then I knew right away that her behaviour had nothing to do with me. She was just moody or angry at herself. I could tell from that hint of agitation in her eyes.

  Angry at herself… There are times when I think that maybe I’m the only happy member of the group. Should I stop being so aloof? Could it be that it’s my fault? All this timidity, lack of courage and unjustifiable attitude…

  11-IX

  I’ll ask Stefan to postpone the trip to Norfor that he mentioned last night. And to think that, a little while ago, only the sound of this glorious location would have made me jump for joy!

  16-IX

  Stefan knows everybody here. He managed to find some old acquaintances of his who are interested in science books and so we traded a big part of Northam’s book collection with some history books of great significance, which would have taken ages to arrive with the “distribution”. Among them, a basic history book for children, ideal for beginners like me, a Dupont edition, a true miniature of three thousand glow-in-the-dark, green pages, with stereoscopic illustrations, tiny print that successively became enlarged only at the part that you’re reading and full-page panoramas.

  I returned to the villa late at night. With the heavy bag tucked under my arm, excited about my new possessions, I locked myself in my room and emptied my treasure on the table. At the sight of it, a multitude of cheerful and magical memories of my childhood came to life, like a colourful parade before my eyes!

  17-IX

  Today, it was meant to be… Today, destiny had a beautiful surprise in store for me: I unexpectedly ran into her on my way back home. We spent a whole hour together. At first she cried. Then I told her I loved her. She then placed her hand on my heart. I kissed her and, finally, we stared deep into each other’s eyes… No one will ever know what happened between us! Thank you, God, for this moment! And I had a feeling since this morning that it would be a big day today!

  She told me that she had been suffering and crying herself to sleep for days, due to the doubts that tortured her. She didn’t know what to do. She was reserved due to her earlier behaviour towards me. But my unwavering love, plus the fact that, after the accident, I looked purer and gentler and with a more romantic attitude—something that excites women—had struck her. I’m happy! She told me she wants to go everywhere with me. All the places she has visited, she wants to see again with me. Only then, she says, can a mere visit be transformed into true experience; otherwise only the eyes are satisfied and not the soul…

  18-IX

  I’ve been sitting here for hours, thinking about what happened yesterday. I can’t even read. I look like I’m daydreaming. There is no way that Stefan hasn’t figured it out. Yesterday was an outburst of emotions; reason and judgment had no place in it. Today, after so much stress, I feel so weak and exhausted that I can hardly write. I have so much to think about. I just remembered something that Stefan said, that as human beings, that is, forms of life with limited capacities, we are unable to define t
he borders of the “real” and the “unreal” or assess the actual scope of the Great Reality. It is impossible, he says, to know what lies beneath appearances and even less through the prism of our “child-like” temperament that frequently blows simple, human psychological reactions out of proportion. As he explained to me, they now believe that the old interpretation of the "idealisation of human instincts" merely seems to be so, and that the dimension of depth escapes us humans. The current global community wouldn’t hesitate to view an insignificant person who has made no apparent contribution to life as a harbinger of great things and erect a statue in their honour in the Valley of the Roses, their sacred city.

  4-X

  The most exciting thing for me is riding their flying vehicles, the linsens. Today we went to Orta, an experimental nursery spanning a thousand acres, surrounded by elms, at the centre of which were six ancient marble seats. There we sat, in "our own living room" as Sylvia jokingly called it. She now regrets having refused Andreas’ love and affection in the past. She felt that, because of her, they had wasted too much time and missed too many precious moments. And on the other hand, look at the position I am in: she’s opening her heart to me and I can tell her nothing. So I just sit there, answering mechanically and using the few things I know about Northam from Stefan to answer her. And, in the end, in order to escape her constant questions, I keep saying, “Sylvia, believe me. I don’t remember anything else.”

  I’m ashamed of myself. But Stefan told me a few days ago, “There is no other way for now. Remember, it was you who asked for it to stay a secret. But, apart from that, Rosernes Dal—the Valley of the Roses—has not yet reached any conclusion regarding your case.”

  TRIP TO THE WEST COAST OF ITALY: AN ENDLESS, GLOBAL HOLIDAY RESORT

  Salerno, 6-X

  We’ve only been here in the South since last night. We delayed it a little on purpose to avoid the huge crowds flocking here for the “summer celebrations”. We’re staying on the third floor of one the huge hotels of New Youthsmile. We booked the whole floor because six more friends are coming. Among them is Diseny, one of the most famous young physicians, and the painter Syld, Aria’s friend, a nice, quiet and modest blond man in his thirties dressed in dark clothes that contrasted with his blue, day-dreaming eyes.

  From what I understood from the others’ behaviour towards them, they must consider the physician and the artist as the “stars” of the group, but the latter seem to have no clue about it. They always talk in a simple, down-to-earth way about various things, but never about their work.

  Seeing the west coast of Italy from above, I noticed that it is now, from one coast to the other, built with huge hotels that make it seem like an endless resort. The place names change every so often and in many areas they’ve kept the ancient names that now sound rather strange next to the newer and more poetic ones: Scarlet Rivershore, Seaside of Joy, Small Blomsterfor, Blue Lily, Diamondstones of Midnight, Resenfarvet. Yet, neither the form nor the consistency of this vast state changes anywhere; it stretches eternally into the horizon. There were thousands of gigantic palaces for travellers, but not a trace of residential homes or churches or institutions or schools and industrial and scientific facilities—only these huge hotels and youth centres (larinters and civesheims they’re called), built between quays and parks, vast sandy beaches and harbours. Each of these palaces of the Cives—the citizens—was a separate rectangular building adorned perimetrically with a type of bright crystals that reflected the rays of the sun, gathered throughout the day. And they were so bright you could see them from the night sky.

  The architectural styles varied, but the whole was perfectly harmonious. Yes, here I do feel like I’m in one of their largest urban centres. Even when I’m alone in my room, in complete silence, I can almost hear the hustle and bustle of millions of travellers visiting this vast, seaside resort every day.

  7-X

  And whilst here you feel the pure joy of life to an incredible extent—compared to our time—the things they do and the way they do them do not differ that much from ours. At sunrise, I saw thousands of people standing outside their gigantic hotels holding crystal mugs filled with water and fruit and gazing at the incredible view. Below us, in the courts and fields, you could see young people playing sports and ball games. Close by, at the parks and beaches, people were strolling, swimming and having picnics, exactly like us.

  Silvia and I took quite a long walk. Stefan and Hilda were further ahead. She told me that for the first time, these days, she has come to know herself in all its depth. She discovered a kind of peacefulness inside of her that she never thought she had. I didn’t know how to reply to that so I just clasped her hand and kept walking.

  “I can finally appreciate songs! I can finally identify with their meaning!” she added. Even the changes of the seasons bring me an inner sense of joy. I remember I felt this only up until the age of fifteen. Then it disappeared. Until now.”

  I still haven’t touched her, nor do I think about her naked body. We’re both still in that first stage of deep and true love, where feelings manifest themselves purely in the heart and not in the flesh.

  THE ESSENCE OF SAMITH AND “DIRECT KNOWLEDGE”

  7-X Again

  (After midnight)

  In the evening, the whole group left the linsens behind and, walking through the pines, headed inland. There were fourteen of us in total. Around midnight and after the walk was over, the women of the group suggested that we go to one of the large terraces to watch the big dance performance from above. Silvia had told me that it would be impossible to find time for just the two of us tonight.

  We joined the rest of the crowd that wasn’t taking part in the happening and sat above the enormous dance floor, watching the spectacular and slow moves of the big, communal dance.

  I whispered to Stefan that all this reminded me of a very unique ballet troupe, but he shook his head no. Shortly after, he explained to me the meaning of the symbolic dance and the communal silent prayer that followed it. He said that, if we were in the possession of the appropriate clothing, we could all could take part. I believe that such a spectacle, such harmonious coordination and magnificence would be the utmost dream of even our top choreographers. Only in our time, this dream could never become reality.

  The male dancers were dressed in black and the female ones had wreaths of flowers on their heads and wore the official silk, draped, monochromatic, floor-length kjole. They passed before us, each one with their choreographed moves, like a perfectly synchronised whole, offering me newfound, indescribable emotions.

  They even engendered a feeling of pride and euphoria in me for being present at this unique, ceremonial environment that had, however, nothing to do with any official religion or religious coercion. The music itself spoke to you, the sounds, the dance moves too… You’d think they too were capable of feelings and nostalgia, just like the human heart. They spoke of true love, the kind of love that can make you sacrifice yourself... They also spoke about another kind of love, a love that can conquer time and make you live forever, for you wouldn’t care about death or about yourself, just about the other person. They spoke of love in a thousand different ways, in countless tender movements and turns as if they had the gift of human speech!

  On the other side of the terrace, which looked like an expansive square, a large crowd, dressed in the typical costumes of the unge —who always escorted important people— had surrounded an elderly man whose name, as I was told, was Nichefelt, and who was one of the most prominent painters of the time. “He has just come back from the Valley of the Roses,” I heard people saying. Syld, the painter of our group, who used to be Nichefelt’s student, said that the Lorffe had changed dramatically since the last time he had seen him.

  It was time to go. “We’ll come back tomorrow,” I told Silvia before we separated. “It’s worth seeing all of this again, just the two of us, isn’t it?”

  She smiled at me and nodded in agreement. Oh God, how
many years this nod took me back! It reminded me of Anna; every time she nodded, a gentle breeze rippled through her hair. I confess with remorse, but this coincidental, instantaneous similarity made me think of Anna again. This name used to mean so much to me…

  8-X

  Stefan made me smile today by giving too much weight to a simple observation of mine on modern morals. I was quite upset that Silvia had gone off on her own despite having told me that we would spend the whole day together. Instead, she chose to sunbathe on a different terrace with the rest of the girls. So, the only thing I said was that in older times, people used to be closer to nature and enjoy the gentle caress of the sun, the air and the water all together—men and women.

  Stefan said nothing at that moment. Lying on his back, with his eyes half shut and his muscles relaxed, he was enjoying the morning breeze as if he had never heard what I said. Doctor Diseny, who was also present, waited for a while to see if Stefan would say anything and then decided to speak.