by Carol Thomas
‘You have a great relationship,’ agreed Kara. ‘You discuss a lot more than most families I reckon. She just forgot, Ariel.’
Ariel shook his head, puzzled.
‘No. She knows I lied to her, and she hasn’t carpeted me for it. Why?’
‘She’s hurt,’ offered Kara. ‘She’s hoping you’ll come clean on your own. She’s biding her time.’
Ariel looked keenly at Kara.
‘That could be true,’ he said. ‘Damn. That could be true.’
He started the tri-bike.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ he said sadly.
‘Follow me,’ John said as they moved off. ‘We’ll go the short cut, through Simcard Park.’
One hundred metres above, Ms President raised her near empty glass in a silent toast as she watched the three tri-bikes zoom off.
Behnn Robertson-Tang Smith‘n’Jones confidently took his place in the Monochrome news chair. He had volunteered to announce the cross to Ms President’s office and to write the introduction to her report. He took a swig of water and waited for the director’s signal.
‘Good evening ladies and gentlemen,’ Behnn began smoothly. ‘Tonight there has been a change in the advertised program, due to Operation Red. Tonight’s episode in the How to- series, How to find your way across the city without a GPS, will be slightly delayed due to an important message from Ms President. Normal programming will resume after Ms President’s message. We now cross live to the Presidential office. Thank you.’
John’s boss stuck his head into the office corridor and gave a loud whistle.
‘It’s on,’ he called, as John appeared at the end of the corridor. ‘Come and watch.’
By the time John got to the office, his boss had settled into an executive chair with a bottle of beer. He generously waved John to another chair.
‘Thanks,’ John said. ‘I really wanted to hear this.’
‘Well, it’s important stuff,’ said his boss. ‘An historical moment. A momentous event that we’re in the middle of.’
On the comp-vision, Behnn finished his introduction.
‘We’ve got a couple of those 2ZBs,’ continued his boss. ‘You know, the one that started the whole thing. With a thought.’
‘Have we?’ asked John, feigning indifference.
‘Well, we did. TechYES took them away.’
John nodded, then said: ‘Sssh, she’s on.’
‘Good evening, Cyberians.’
Ms President’s voice carried strongly through the office. John and his boss sat up straighter.
‘May I begin with congratulations to you all,’ Ms President continued warmly. ‘The sky did not fall on our heads today. Indeed, the very heavens opened up for some blessed city dwellers, and radiant beams of enlightenment fell onto parts of CyberCity; parts where critical thinking shone like a beacon in the darkest alleys of techno dependence.’
‘Crikey,’ said John’s boss.
‘It has been a wonderful day in the city,’ continued Ms President. ‘I hope you have all had as productive a day as I have had, filled with creative energy and critical thought and positive outcomes.’
I did, thought Behnn Robertson-Tang Smith‘n’Jones.
‘I did,’ said John.
‘Yeah?’
John grinned.
‘I’d like to share some of the day’s highlights with you all,’ said Ms President, unrolling a sheet of paper and showing it to the camera. ‘Firstly, the First Schools. Our youngest students had no technological props today. They played. They worked on artworks such as this one by a young man named Tran, and they have had an exciting and stimulating day experimenting with colours and communication. The Second Schools also had a good day, and all reports I’m delighted to say are positive. I must make special mention of an outstanding result from Googling-on Second School with the questions sent to schools this morning.’
Ms President paused as she placed the artwork gently to one side.
‘She’s good at that,’ murmured John.
‘At what?’ asked his boss.
Before John could reply, Ms President resumed.
‘Googling-on students have applied critical thought to the main problem sent to them this morning, and they have solved one of this city’s most protracted and wearying legal disputes. I won’t steal their thunder, they deserve to break the news to the city themselves. Googling-on students will file their own news report on their breakthrough, tomorrow at 9am, direct from the school. Be watching.’
John and his boss nodded obediently.
‘Then we have the Third Schools,’ continued Ms President. ‘Another set of wonderful answers to the questions posed by the Think Witted Team. I can’t tell you how pleased I am with our students’ responses today. In particular—and you will have heard this in the news tonight—students at Ananova College have resolved the output problem that has plagued Volt Town’s solar power station since operations began.’
‘Don’t you go there?’ asked John’s boss.
‘Yeah,’ replied John happily.
‘Tomorrow the solar station will be working at full capacity. The meteorologists tell me the sun will be shining brightly to help it along. My personal thanks to the students at both these schools who have today saved CyberCity millions of dollars.’
‘That’s pretty good,’ said John’s boss.
‘Isn’t it?’ agreed John.
‘On the work front,’ said Ms President, ‘the day went off smoothly with few hitches reported. It seems that most workers managed to get through the day, but whether their thought processes were critically extended remains to be seen. The jury is still out on that one. What I have been able to deduce from the first day of Operation Red is this: the schools performed outstandingly. Beyond what was expected. Students can only go forwards from this point and CyberCity’s future looks much improved from today. The workforce performed reasonably well, but I think the city’s workers would benefit from a little help.’
Ms President paused again and took a sip of water.
‘Uh oh,’ murmured John’s boss. ‘I don’t like the sound of this.’
‘To build on the excellent work begun in schools today, and to develop and support the workforce’s critical thinking skills, the government has decided to extend Operation Red next month to take place over one week.’
‘Aaargh!’ cried John’s boss.
‘We will strike while the laser pointer is red hot. Again, I congratulate you all on getting through today. Given today’s results from schools, we can only imagine what a week of critical thinking will mean to CyberCity. Good evening to you all.’
‘Chaos. Unhappiness,’ groaned John’s boss. ‘She’s gone too far.’
John stood up.
‘It could be good,’ he said.
But he could still hear his boss muttering as he walked down the corridor, back to work.
‘It will be good,’ chortled Ariel. ‘That’s a great idea, don’t you think?’
‘I do,’ agreed Kara.
Ariel headed off into the kitchen to make another snack. Kara followed him.
‘Although, it won’t make much difference to us,’ she added. ‘Because Timbo’s decided that every day is going to be like today. He’s going to get the Story Wall removed and the First Chairs adjusted so that they are just comfortable chairs, nothing else.’
‘Good for him,’ said Ariel.
‘Yeah. It was fun today. He and I had great fun, and I know the kids enjoyed themselves cause they went home dirty and tired and smiling.’
‘You get on well with Timbo, don’t you?’
‘He’s terrific,’ said Kara enthusiastically. ‘We get on really well. He’s even giving me free lessons on comp-vision game writing. From the master himself, Ariel.’
‘During school?’
‘No, when the kids go home,’ said Kara, oblivious to Ariel’s tone. ‘The man’s a genius, Ariel. Timbo’s games are CyberCity’s number one seller.’
‘Says who?’
Kara stopped stirring her coffee and stared at Ariel.
‘Well, he does,’ she replied. ‘But they’re very good, as you know. I believe him.’
‘Yeah, sorry,’ said Ariel. ‘His games are superb, you’re right.’
‘So what are you upset about?’
‘Upset? I’m not upset,’ answered Ariel overly cheerful.
He picked up his coffee and walked back into the living room.
‘Well you’re doing a good imitation of upset,’ responded Kara, tagging along. ‘C’mon. It’s not like you to be moody.’
‘Moody!’
‘Okay okay,’ said Kara. She sat on the couch and patted the seat beside her. ‘Come and tell Aunty Kara all about it.’
Ariel looked wryly at Kara, then at the couch, and then they both laughed.
‘I’m just being a dork,’ said Ariel, sitting down. ‘Sorry. We used to spend a whole lot of time together, and now we don’t.’
‘Oh,’ said Kara.
‘You’re at work and I’m at school and when I do see you it’s Timbo this and Timbo that, and yes, I like him too, but…’
‘Too much Timbo.’
‘Yeah.’
‘You are still my bestest friend,’ said Kara.
Ariel chuckled and was about to say something profound when his visi-phone rang.
‘Hi Mum. Nice speech.’
‘Thank you dear; hello Kara,’ Ms President replied. ‘Did you sort dinner or should I pick up something?’
‘We’ve only had snacks,’ said Ariel hopefully. ‘And John’s coming back after work.’
‘I’ll get dinner for four then. How about Tasmanian?’
‘Yum, I love Tasmanian,’ said Kara.
‘Thanks, Mum.’
‘See you soon.’
Ms President clicked the visi-phone off and settled back into the car’s plush seat. The chauffeur drove cautiously through a red light. She smiled and looked out at the almost deserted city streets.
‘Franko?’
‘Yes, Ms President?’
‘We’re stopping at the Devil’s Diner.’
‘Are you going to tell her?’ Kara asked.
‘I’m thinking about it,’ Ariel answered.
‘Ms President,’ said Kara as she tucked into woodchip fired farmed salmon pizza, ‘I think Operation Red is an inspired idea.’
‘Yeah,’ added John and Ariel.
‘I confess,’ said Ms President heartily, ‘Even though it was my idea, I do agree!’
‘My cleaning boss didn’t like it,’ chuckled John.
‘Tough.’
‘How did you convince Cabinet to go for a week?’ asked Ariel.
‘Who asked them?’ said Ms President, pouring more wine. ‘Not me. I made it up on the way to Channel Blank.’
The teenagers stopped eating and stared at Ms President. Kara and John turned to Ariel.
‘Are you allowed to do that?’ he said.
‘Allowed; heavens! Probably not,’ said Ms President, munching through a truffle toastie. ‘Don’t look so worried, chickens. I can talk Cabinet into just about anything. Now that we have impetus, I’m not deviating for democracy. Cabinet will come around.’
‘Yes, but, shouldn’t you have got approval or something first?’ said Ariel. ‘I mean, well, it’s a pretty big thing you’re talking about. A whole week where the entire city—’
‘Is united for humanity and progress. Won’t that be grand?’
‘Yes; but…Mum…’ Ariel stumbled on.
Ms President patted his knee.
‘Now, Ariel,’ she said. ‘A few weeks ago you were in despair at my inaction. You thought Cyberians were becoming soporific; far too dependant on technology. And you were right. You wanted me to fix that, and I’m trying to do it. Have another toastie, John. I know you like them.’
‘Thank you, Ms President,’ said John, taking two.
‘I needed a push,’ explained Ms President. ‘And that thinking computer was perfect. I couldn’t act without an event to respond to; Cabinet and the city would have been lukewarm without an event to respond to. But once I had that threatening situation, that unusual event, I was off. Varroom! I’m using powers that were set up for just this kind of situation. It’s all legal, don’t worry. Your Pres isn’t about to turn into a megalomaniac dictator wielding the critical thought axe all over town. It’s all about leadership and taking charge. For the greater good. Have you tried a possum stick, John? They’re particularly tasty.’
‘Still…’ said Ariel.
‘Phooey,’ said Ms President firmly. ‘You can’t fix a problem of this magnitude and seriousness without stepping on a few brain dead citizens in charge of computers, Ariel. And it’s not as if I’m bringing back the stocks, is it? Or imprisoning people, or withholding work or education opportunities. No, just the opposite. We’re talking about enlightenment, not a new dark age.’
‘Bringing back the stock market?’ said Kara.
‘The stocks,’ said Ms President. ‘An old fashioned punishment involving rotten fruit. Isn’t this apple and hamster pizza delicious?’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ said Ariel, picking up another slice.
‘I’m convinced,’ said John. ‘CyberCity needed a kick up the bum. We were talking about it ourselves only days before the big event, and wondering what you—the government—could do about getting people energised.’
‘Were you? Some thoughtful people in the city were thinking along those lines too, John,’ said Ms President. ‘And that, I now see, was more people than I had calculated. But they muttered and mumbled and talked, and, well, nothing happened and the years went by. CyberCity desperately needed an event to focus on, to respond to. And we got it. Not a moment too soon.’
Kara caught Ariel’s eye and he shrugged.
‘The city trusts you,’ she said.
‘They do,’ agreed Ms President. ‘There were a few tizzies thrown today, but, mostly, people do trust me to do the right thing, for the good of everyone. And they shall not be disappointed. I might have to bend the rules just a tiny bit, but the results will justify that.’
She looked around at her audience. They were sitting on the floor with the end of their Tasmanian picnic spread on a tablecloth.
‘This is something I strongly believe in,’ Ms President said. ‘I know you three believe in it too, and we’re not alone. I had calls today from some of the city’s most powerful business brokers. Each one said thank you. The CEO of Biz-Drive rang and told me that their main problem with graduate employees is that Biz-Drive has to teach them to think. And they’ve got degrees! Years of education at Fourth Schools and, in his words: ‘they’re not inventive, they don’t take risks and they lack initiative’. They come with whiz bang technological information, but put them into a new situation that requires the application of knowledge and thinking skills, and they don’t cope.’
‘Duds,’ offered John helpfully.
‘Indeed,’ said Ms President. ‘I am determined that schools are going to lift their game in teaching thinking per se.’
‘Is that why you changed the traffic lights for the day?’ asked Kara. ‘To make people respond to a new situation?’
‘It was a wild shot,’ laughed Ms President. ‘But I think it really emphasised quick thinking for a purpose. Self-preservation. How was it on the roads?’
‘We invented a new way home through the park,’ said Ariel.
‘You had to look everywhere at once,’ added Kara.
‘It was like a game,’ said John. ‘I hated it in the morning, but it was fun going to work tonight. It was an exercise in logic. Like learning to ride all over again. I enjoyed it actually.’
‘Bingo,’ said Ms President. ‘John, you’ve had a terrific day for critical thought.’
‘And I’m knackered,’ said John, standing up. ‘I’m off home. Thanks very much for dinner, Ms President.’
‘A pleasure, John. ‘Tis small reward for your contribution today,�
�� said Ms President. She stood too. ‘Now, I’m making coffee. Kara, are you staying?’
‘No, thanks Ms President. Those little kids have worn me out. I’ll be off too.’
‘Just you and me, Ariel? Well, goodnight chickens. Ride home safely.’
Ariel walked his friends to the door. He gave Kara a swift kiss on the check then turned to say good bye to John.
‘No, it’s okay mate, I don’t want one of those,’ said John.
‘You weren’t getting one, handsome,’ replied Ariel. ‘See you in school tomorrow.’
He watched their lights flare down the quiet street, stood for a moment, thoughtful, then walked back inside. Ms President was in the kitchen and Ariel began to clear up the meal.
‘That was a nice dinner, Mum,’ he called. ‘Thanks.’
Ms President appeared with two mugs.
‘I enjoy having you and your friends in the house,’ she said, setting the mugs down and giving him a hand to carry dishes into the kitchen. ‘They’re good people, your mates.’
‘Yeah, they are.’
Ariel scrounged some fake chocolate from the fridge and joined his mother in the living room.
‘And was it really an okay day at school today?’ Ms President asked seriously.
‘It was fine, Mum. No problems.’
‘I did wonder if you might cop some flack.’
‘So did I,’ said Ariel. ‘But, nothing major, just some low key heckling.’
He broke off some chocolate and handed Ms President a piece. Then he drew a newsletter from his back pocket and put it on the table.
‘That’ll be a collector’s item one day,’ said Ms President.
‘There is something I’d like to tell you though,’ Ariel said tentatively. ‘I’ve bent the rules a tiny bit too.’
‘Mmm,’ Ms President sat back on the couch and gave her son her full attention. ‘And what have you been up to, my tricksy sprite?’
###
