by Chris Ramos
TIME TO EXPIRE
Chris Ramos
Orange Hat Publishing
www.orangehatpublishing.com - Waukesha, WI
Published by Orange Hat Publishing 2014
Ebook Version ISBN 978-1-943331-00-0
Printed Version ISBN 978-1-937165-81-9
Copyrighted © 2014 by Chris Ramos
All Rights Reserved
Cover design by Therese Joanis
This publication and all contents within may not be reproduced or transmitted in any part or in its entirety without the written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. The characters, places and incidents portrayed and the names used herein are fictitious or used in a fictitious manner and any resemblance to the names, character, or history of any person, living or dead, is coincidental and unintentional. Product names used herein are not endorsement of this work by the product name owners.
www.orangehatpublishing.com
This book is dedicated to my Dad, Tony.
Taken before your time, you taught me the meaning of family.
And to my Mom, Donna.
You showed me how to make every moment count.
PROLOGUE
PART ONE: THE MOTHER
NIMBUS
GATEWAY
SCI
LINEAGE
BIRTH
THE DAWN
PLATEAU
DEVELOP
THE GATE
HOMESTEAD
HAMEL
CYAN CLOUD
PART TWO: THE FATHER
THE NIGHT
VISITOR
THE ASSOCIATE
PRAETOR
SUBMERGED
GUEST
THE FALLEN
NEW EDUCATION
OFFENSE
THE CAPTAIN
REPROGRAMMING
ESCORT
THE REMOVAL
THE BEACON
RETRIBUTION
EXIT
EPSILON
DUO SCI
SHUTDOWN
THE GARDENS
DUEL
REBOOT
EPILOGUE
PROLOGUE
The red-orange rays of the setting sun climbed over the steep plasteel roof and were diffused through the auto-tinting plastique window. Walsh walked past the window, his movement causing a breeze that fluttered the curtains. The rays had a fleeting moment of freedom, dancing around the room briefly, until the silk settled back against the window. Walsh stopped his pacing as his attention was drawn to a glint of metal showing from under the couch. He leaned down and retrieved a long-lost lapel pin, one of his favorites. He stood up, laughed at the poor timing of his discovery and tossed the pin back under the couch. It was too late for that now, too late for such trivial material discoveries. He reached in his pocket and retrieved his pocket watch, depressed the side button, popped the cover and checked the inside timing. He smirked to himself for checking the watch so often; it really hadn’t changed much in the last minute. Or the minute before that. It was still counting down. Walsh closed the lid. Instead of dropping it back into his pocket, he set it down on the low table and walked away to resume his pacing. The glowing LifeSpan logo on the watch cover slowly dimmed.
Walsh was waiting. His expiration was eminent, and he paced his small home with a deep sense of apprehension. Of course, he had known about this date, this hour, even the second he would expire the very day he was born. Everyone knew when their own expirations were. That was one of the many luxuries living under the splendor of the global corporation, LifeSpan.
Walsh smiled and reminisced. He was rather impressed with the efficient LifeSpan administration, especially after his most popular publication: LifeSpan by the Numbers: From Neanderthals to Nimbus. It was a history of humanity, detailing the long road to their current prosperous status. LifeSpan effectively conquered illnesses of every kind, improved industrial production and forged a global economy. These accomplishments alone had easily catapulted LifeSpan into the most powerful and influential company the world had ever seen. Of course, you couldn’t admire LifeSpan without paying homage to the single most influential LifeSpan innovation: lifting the veil on the unpredictable time of death. Consequently, everyone was assigned an individual expiration date, calculated at birth and accurate to the millisecond.
Walsh paused and admired his many awards hanging in the front entry. His most prized digital plaque was from the LifeSpan Digipost World Library. This was in recognition for his recently completed Your Expiration Date: A Lifetime Management Manual. Also hanging next to this reminder of his accomplishment was a digiframe cycling through numerous digital reviews, boasting the manual as the top digiloaded publication three months in a row. Ever since LifeSpan abolished paper resources, everything from the daily news to publications of any kind were digiloaded. With thousands of publications loaded hourly, it was truly an accomplishment to be the most read in any category.
Reminiscing during his great success with Expiration Date reminded Walsh of his timepiece still sitting on the front coffee table. His moment was almost here. Finally, it was his time to expire. His life’s work was complete, for that was a benefit of knowing your expiration date: everything was carefully plotted and planned for. There was no project left unfinished. Humanity across the globe had become incredibly efficient.
He continued to the table and scooped up the silver timepiece. The LifeSpan logo emblazoned on the cover glowed a pale blue again when it was in his hand, recognizing him as its one true owner. This was another innovation of LifeSpan, for coursing through each person’s bloodstream at that very moment were millions of tiny nanobots, giving each individual a unique nano signature. His assigned pocket watch was only attuned to his identity, keeping the watch locked at all times, unlocking only when it recognized his touch.
Walsh pressed the small, recessed button on the side of the watch, releasing the cover latch. The lid rose to reveal a series of dials and clock faces inside.
There were five clock faces in total: the largest was used for counting down the years, the next smallest counted down by days in the months, and three small dials counting down hours, minutes and seconds. Each dial moved counterclockwise, a flurry of larger pointers and smaller, lapping dials, spinning in harmony for one purpose: a constant reminder of the countdown to your expiration. Usually the dials were all moving in concert. Only two of the five dials were moving now: the minutes and seconds. The year, day, and hour dials were already at their zero mark. He was close to his expiration now, but he was not afraid. With LifeSpan, there was no fear of death; it was as expected as the sun rising.
The minute hand was finishing its final lap, and rested precisely at zero, never to start another lap. This left only the second hand to finish a sixty-tick countdown. Walsh stood with the watch open in his palm, less than sixty seconds of life remaining. He adjusted his tie with his free hand and glanced around the empty room, waiting.
“So long, and thanks for the memories,” Walsh whispered to nobody.
The second hand closed the gap. 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . 0.
Walsh collapsed. His timepiece fell from his limp hand.
The Collectors arrived.
PART ONE: THE MOTHER
Today began as many have before, planned and perfect. I awoke, looked outside and watched our solar panels slowly change direction and catch the sun’s light. Ate a quick breakfast with momma and ran off, down the block to school. Everyone lined up outside the walls, waiting for the doors to open. As we passed into the halls, we were handed our daily program. Same familiar schedule—school lunch menu, assembly after school, daily student expirations. A boy named Johnnie was expiring today; he is in my science class. I should say, Johnnie was in my science c
lass. He was pretty neat, but I’ll find another. I always find another friend. We stood in class reciting our daily LifeSpan oath. It changes every day, with Tuesday being ‘The future was dark. LifeSpan is the light.’ When we were done, everyone sat back down and pulled in their chairs. Today, I remained standing. “Why do we repeat that? Who says we have to keep doing that?” I don’t think teacher liked my question. So, here I am, typing and being watched by an unhappy LifeSpan counselor. Another day in detention. Like I said, today began as many have before.
NIMBUS
Moving swiftly over the open countryside, the dark clouds rolled above the mountains, churning and building into a blue and gray mass, ready to explode. Finally, they began to empty their soaking payload onto the sprawling town below. Nimbus watched this powerful show from atop his high tower located inside the LifeSpan grounds. As the highest populated structure in the country, he always thought about the rain touching him first, and then moving on to the ground below. He imagined each raindrop asking him for permission to continue. Nature itself was seeking his consent to carry on. As it should be.
Nimbus was tall and very lean, with well-defined muscles showing through his formfitting silk robes. His hair was jet black with speckles of gray on the sides. His face was chiseled with a pointed chin and a sharp nose to match; his silhouette was more like a rough-cut piece of wood than of flesh and blood. These were not his most distinguishing characteristics; those that had come face to face with him were immediately struck by his eyes, the hue of which seemed to change with the lighting of the room. His pupils were surrounded by a haze of colors, constantly shifting like mother of pearl. Not many had the opportunity to be caught in his gaze, for he was above them, above everyone. Nimbus answered to nobody because he was LifeSpan.
His attention once again was pulled to the roiling clouds above. Right on schedule, he mused. The cloud formations were actually responding to the large atmosphere collection towers strategically placed across the mountainous geography. These tall, thin spires reached to the skies above and pulsed with atmospheric pressure, encouraging a storm. His gaze traveled slowly from one collection tower to the next, as far as the eye could see. These were the property of LifeSpan. As chief commander of the globally spanning company, he had unrivaled power in his hands. These towers had helped propel LifeSpan’s climb to power.
Many years ago, early in the company’s timeline, the sky was clogged with pollution. The oceans were losing valuable organisms, crops were failing, and nature itself had seemed to turn on the planet. Humanity had finally pushed the healing ability to no return, finally pushing the Earth too far. LifeSpan atmosphere tower technology turned around the unstable ecosystems threatening to destroy the Earth. LifeSpan brought order. Today, carefully structured rain schedules were maintained. Currently, the rain was a slow drizzle. Nimbus knew it would pick up later in the day, just what the schedule called for. Everything was on a schedule, and Nimbus knew there was no other way. LifeSpan was responsible for not only the weather, but all of humanity.
Yes, he thought, they must never forget how much we have saved them.
Humanity had been on the brink of disaster, the dark days of the twenty-second century, and LifeSpan had been there to show them the light.
Nimbus reached forward and held his hand over the balcony edge, letting the rain collect in his cupped palm. Everything runs together; LifeSpan is intertwined. He internally recited one of the most popular LifeSpan slogans. Everything runs together; LifeSpan is intertwined. Nimbus looked down at the fast-building pool of water. “Everything gathers here in my hand first, and I choose to let them have it.” Nimbus turned his hand over, and the water emptied and fell far below. Still holding his damp hand out, he turned and a servant ran forward with a towel to gently pat his hand dry.
His many servants were buzzing with activity, he knew, many still cleaning his room and preparing his outfits for the day. Just as the weather was on a schedule, so was Nimbus.
This afternoon in science class, we all said goodbye to Johnnie. His time had come at 2:52, and he expired in front of us all. Of course, the Collectors came and took him away just like they did for my uncle last week. After Johnnie left, I found a red marble in my desk he had let me borrow. Now that he’s gone, it’s mine now. I used to tell my teacher everything that I thought of during school. Why do the Collectors smell weird? He just sends me to the LifeSpan counselor, like everyone else. So, I sit in detention and type nonsense and give them what they want. I hate to type. My Momma has a real book at home, which she has kept for a long time. So I can write now. I can write my real thoughts, not what they want to hear. Momma says it’s good for me. Momma says don’t tell anyone. As long as it doesn’t interfere with my chores. Oops, almost forgot, I should go wind her fireplace clock. Goodbye diary, I’ll write you soon.
GATEWAY
The rain was not very heavy today, just enough to glaze the sidewalks and have a person second-guessing the absence of an umbrella. Jon reached into his back seat, looking for something to cover his head just as the storm passed, relinquishing control of the heavens to the sun and blue sky. Jon shrugged, exited the fleetliner and walked around to the passenger side. Looking into the flip-down mirror, his wife begged him to go ahead of her; she would eventually catch up. Regardless, Jon continued to wait, holding the car door open as he stared at the woman he loved and patiently waited for her final makeup touches.
Ever since he first met her, years ago, he knew she was the one for him. The following courtship was a whirlwind of work and play as they planned their lives together. Finally, their relationship profiles were approved by LifeSpan, and he proposed. Jon had never been happier.
Today’s appointment was prescheduled with their marriage paperwork. It was the fifth of November. Their one-year wedding anniversary. That special day still felt like it was yesterday.
Bringing his jacket collar closer to his cold neck, Jon’s mind drifted back to that blessed day, surrounded by family and friends in the Great Chapel.
The chapel was filled edge to edge, with barely a vacant seat. Those seated composed a symphony of various sounds: some were weeping, some were laughing, and continual whispering was broken only by the occasional cough. Suddenly, floating through the air like a cloud, a soft melody quieted the crowd. All eyes turn to the rear, waiting for a glimpse of the bride . . .
His palms were clammy, her eyes were glistening, and their hearts were full of hope.
“Do you promise to have and to hold . . . ,” the chapel director’s ceremonial voice boomed through the audience. The subtle sounds of sobbing and creaks from those who couldn’t sit still for too long replaced the earlier talking.
“I do,” Jon whispered.
“I do,” Mary whispered in return, smiling.
The director looked up from his digiscreen. “Do you plan on including children in your life spans?”
“We do,” the newlyweds replied in unison.
“And have you filed the proper digifiles with the LifeSpan parental offices?”
“Jon! Were you daydreaming again?” Mary asked. “Sometimes I feel like you’re a hundred miles away when I need you right next to me. Now, for the third time, how do I look?”
“I was just thinking about the day I gave up my real name,” Jon laughed.
“Yes, yes, officially a Jenkins. Are you still complaining newborns are no longer named after their father? Don’t worry, we are a welcoming family. Now, don’t change the subject! You still haven’t answered me.”
“You look like a beautiful woman, about to fulfill your greatest wish. Now, let’s get moving, Buttercup,” Jon replied with his nickname for her as he extended his hand. She smiled, checked her lipstick one last time, took his hand and finally emerged from the car. Mary was barely able to reach Jon’s shoulder, despite her heeled shoes giving an extra boost. Her hair was dark brown, flowing to her shoulders and curling back slightly. Mary had always been impeccably dressed, paying careful attention to fab
ric colors, feel and fit. Next to Jon’s disheveled appearance, she could easily turn heads wherever they went.
They turned together, their gazes climbing upward to the massive structure before them. Wide, gleaming stairs rose higher than any surrounding building, cresting to a blazing-white arched gate. Amidst the rather ordinary, bland buildings to the left and right, this lone structure seemed incredibly out of place. At first glance, the stairs and gate appeared to be smoothed stone, but further examination showed not a single seam or structural post apparent. This gave the entire structure a smooth plastic shell.
This was a great day for the couple, and this place was the gateway to the LifeSpan grounds. Jon and Mary were eager to begin climbing the stairs, one step at a time, hand in hand. They passed under the gate, going into the main courtyard of LifeSpan, known as the Core. People were everywhere, walking in groups, talking about their day or what they were planning this evening. Mary noticed that everyone had a smile, some even laughing aloud as they shared stories with friends.
