by Judyth Baker
“Why is it all so rigid?” Roger wanted to know.
“It all began to stop crimes before they could happen,”1 the psychiatrist explained. “We even have some full-blown maniacs in our system, but their activities are so well planned that they can’t think of breaking the law. And the few who ever did…” a look akin to sadness seemed to rest for a moment on the psychiatrist’s face… “they are in mental lockup.”
Roger was told that “mental lockup” kept a criminal from having any Free Think time whatsoever. The convict was loose in society, but could do no harm, since he was no longer self-aware. Such criminals did the hard work nobody else wanted to do. They were well fed and housed the same as anybody else, but they never spoke to the Touchables. Their black handcuffs identified them. They were the Untouchables.
“Everybody else gets at least some Free Think time,” the psychiatrist said. “But you seem to be objecting to your allotment, which is quite generous for someone your age.”
“There isn’t enough of it!” Roger had blurted out. “I’m being told what to do practically the whole time!”
“In the Ancient World,” the psychiatrist responded, trying to remain patient with him, “people thought they were ‘free,’ but actually, all their choices were based on prior events. They often spent the whole day miserable, because of other thoughts running around in their heads. Such as, “I’m too good to do this kind of work!” or “I hope to meet the woman of my dreams,” when it was never going to happen. Because we know every single thing about your genetic and mental makeup and capacity, every day has been fitted precisely for your best health, productivity and happiness – and for the benefit of the system, of course. You’ll get used to it.”
“No, I won’t!”
LauraLee, who sat at a distance, gasped. The holograms themselves seemed to shiver (ever so slightly) at the blasphemy. “You were bred, nurtured, and loved, thanks to the system,” she murmured. “Ungrateful son!”
“Sorry, Roger,” the psychiatrist said, after folding his hands together to keep calm. “You really have no choice. Please stop resisting, or you can end up with your Free-Think time deleted for a year or so. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
“You’re acting like a – a teenager!” LauraLee put in. “Please! Don’t embarrass me, or your poor, dead father, with any more such statements!”
Yesterday’s interview vanished with a touch of the psychiatrist’s little finger.
“So, let’s look at the schedule again, Roger,” the psychiatrist said softly, gently, soothingly. “Notice all the activities in there that we know you like: archery, boxing, football, gym workouts, and all the rock music you could ever want to listen to, which you freely select as you please, even when you aren’t in Free-Think Mode. The work is so pleasant, too – it’s lab work. Perfectly suited to your temperament and IQ. Advanced stuff, because you’re brilliant.”
As Roger reviewed the day, laid out from start to finish, even including what food he’d be eating and when he got toilet breaks, something deep inside kept whispering, This is wrong. What if I don’t want to have ice cream today? What if it turns out that I don’t like my job?
“You’re finally ready to fit in,” LauraLee told him. “Do your part, go to work, live a normal life.… You’ll follow a personal schedule for the first time today, to get used to it. Tomorrow, you’ll start your new job, my son.” LauraLee stroked Roger’s red-blonde hair lovingly. “Oh! How I love your hair! I chose the texture and color all by myself!”
“You did?”
“The day will come when you’ll choose what your own son and daughter will look like,” she answered. “Just as my mother and father chose how I would look. We have kept our personal preferences and traditions alive, all these centuries. It’s because we have this kind of freedom that we have prospered in this harsh world.”
“Yes … we’re warm and safe here,” the psychiatrist agreed.
“Warm – and safe …” Roger shook his head. “But once I wasn’t warm, or safe… I think I remember some very huge, cold door. Behind it was God – but He was some kind of monster. He was so cruel, and cold, that had it not been for my mother, He would have killed me.… He was cutting off parts of – parts of my body!”
“That was just a nightmare!” the psychiatrist said quickly. “We’ll fix it!”
He saw a flicker of fear and concern in his mother’s face. “It was just a nightmare!” she insisted. “You’ve always been warm and safe!”
“I know I was rescued from a hideous, cold God!” he answered.
“It’s OK to know that, Roger. But we don’t want you to remember it,” she replied. “It’s just too… horrible.”
A flush of color came into his face. “Yes!” he agreed, embracing LauraLee.
“You saved me… you’re my hero.”
She blushed. “I’d do it again, if I had to. But now, I’m supposed to tell you about your new Job. I’ve been chosen to give you the implant, so you’ll not be afraid. It’s important.”
“I have to go,” the Psychiatrist announced. “Madame, just touch the button, if I’m needed. ” He indicated a tiny, transparent red object that floated to the left of his shoulder. It was swimming amidst other buttons of various colors, all around her head.
“This won’t hurt,” LauraLee told him, drawing a small wire out of what seemed to be thin air. “And also, you’ll get your own panel, just like mine. It links you to all sorts of games, virtualities, maps and programs that you can access. You can select many fake memories, and other fun stuff, at a fee.”
“Fake memories?”
“Of course. You can choose, in the future, to wipe out anything unpleasant that happens, and replace it with something pleasant that didn’t really happen. It’s how we manage to live for a thousand years or more, without getting bored or upset. Even now, in this world, some things aren’t perfect….” she hesitated. “Unless we make it so, so we can bear it. We all have at least one of these…” she waved the tiny wire up and down. “It will be your best friend. With luck, you’ll get two or three of them someday. Maybe four, like I have.”
Roger shook his head. “I don’t want any damned implants! And I don’t want fake memories!”
She felt tears flooding into her eyes. “Now, see what you’ve done? I’m crying!” she told him. “I’m supposed to be happy! But now, I’ll need to have some therapy. You’re forcing me to erase this entire memory!”
Roger frowned, then reached out and dried a tear from her cheek. “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t be unhappy. Don’t erase it, please! I’m sorry.”
“Will you just please take the implant?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not really.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Not in the slightest.”
He let her place the small wire against his temple. It slithered to life when it touched his skin and drilled itself under his scalp. There was a burning sensation, then an itch… and suddenly, Roger Understood His Role in Life. He knew precisely what he’d be doing tomorrow. Everything on the Schedule now made sense. And it was good.
“In half an hour, its Lights Out,” LauraLee reminded him. “But we’re the lucky ones! We get time to Free-Think, all by ourselves, three times a day. It’s because we’re Scientists and Professionals. Only Leaders get more time to think than we do.”
“But what if I want to Free-Think longer? Stay up longer than Lights Out?” he asked. His question shocked her. He wasn’t supposed to be able to ask such a question. Not with all the Nice Feelings he should have been enjoying with the implant.
“Roger,” she replied, “Your question makes no sense. There simply isn’t any need to Free-Think longer than that. It’s ecologically unsustainable to keep lights on after Lights Out. All the problems we ever had in the System have already been solved. It’s all been set up to make sure we’re happy. You’ll discover that your job will be so fulfilling that you’ll stay happy, hour after hour
. Eventually you’ll meet the Mate selected just for you, and then you’ll get an extra hour to Free-Think with her. Every day. You’ll bond with her.”
“So, everything is all laid out for me?”
“Of course. And it’s always perfect for you. Precisely fitted for you.”
But Roger, she saw, still wasn’t convinced.
“If everything has been all laid out so well for you,” he objected, “and for everyone else, and it’s so perfect, why did something happen that was so bad that you had to rescue me? And why was it so important, that we’ve been sent all over the world, getting interviewed about it?”
“Just go to sleep,” she told him. “Get your rest. Tomorrow is your first day of work!”
She kissed him, backed away, closed the door. Only now could she allow her anxiety to fully flow through her. LauraLee had just enough minutes left in her Free-Think mode to contact the psychiatrist again. She quickly touched the P dial. There was a crackle of blue flame, the circuit needed fixing; she’d have to report it. Then the psychiatrist answered.
“LauraLee!” he exclaimed, with a rumbling voice, “What’s the matter now?”
“He resisted the implant! And then, even after I inserted it, he asked me why, if things were always so good, did he have to be rescued?”
“No, he couldn’t have!”
“He’s very intelligent. You know, he could have been a Leader, one more IQ point.”
“I remember the discussion as to his status,” the psychiatrist told her. “Borderline. Maybe he’s a Leader, after all. Maybe we’ll have to move him up. The fact that he resisted the implant is quite important. You should have told me immediately.”
“I did tell you immediately!” she protested.
“I have to check him; then, report his condition. Wait two minutes, where you are.”
Two long minutes passed. As more minutes passed, LauraLee was beginning to fear that her Free-Think time would expire before the psychiatrist got back to her. Then his round, smiling face appeared.
“It seems he passed a little test the Leadership devised,” he told her. “If he hadn’t protested as he did, he would have flunked. You should know, Madame,” the psychiatrist told her, “that he has Free Will. When he resisted the implant, which almost never happens, you shouldn’t have pushed him to accept it. Of course, you must remove the implant. He’s to be elevated tomorrow.”
LauraLee shrieked with joy. “Really! You mean it?” That meant her own status would improve. “I’m – I’m so proud of him!”
“Get it out at once. I’ll arrange for you to capture another fifteen minutes of Free Think, so you can interact with him again tonight.” The psychiatrist sighed. “This uses up my time, too. Now, you are to remove the implant with the code I’m transferring into your little finger… hold still.”
“Why didn’t anybody tell me he could become a Leader?” she complained, as her little finger began to tingle. “How could they have let me make such a mistake?”
“They didn’t want you to feel unhappiness if he failed,” the psychiatrist explained. “A chance like this is rare. Happens maybe once a century.… Because of what he went through, he got smarter than predicted. He’ll get the Alpha Male implant.” The psychiatrist shook his head. “Never thought I’d live to see such a thing! As for the memories he’s been given, of his former job, since he never fulfilled a single command on the schedule, chances are, he won’t remember enough to cause any problems for himself.”
“I only did what I was programmed to do,” LauraLee said, defensively.
“You’re forgiven. Go to him and get the implant out. Tomorrow, you’ll get to watch him transition to Leader. Congratulations.”
“Do we have room for another Leader?” she asked.
“Oh – didn’t I tell you? The Third Omega Male committed suicide. It happened today.”
She had been too busy dealing with Roger to check on the news.
* * *
He woke to find that it was still Sleep Time. It was Out of Schedule, and he felt dizzy, disoriented. He knew he wasn’t supposed to go to the labs and work with Color Vision Enhancement for six more hours. As he yawned, Roger could vaguely remember that he was supposed to start work on the “fly-eye” problem.
Engineering the human eye to see colors beyond the infrared and ultraviolet had its drawbacks: recently, it had been decided that compound eyes were the answer, making such enhanced vision more accurate, but most people were resisting the improved eyes. “Fly-heads’ – those who had chosen to try out the new eye style – were unpopular. There had even been a rumor that fly-heads should never be allowed to breed. They were too reckless. That was proven because they’d volunteered for the new, improved eyes without caring what they looked like.
As Roger mused over the threads of the eye problem he had been prepped to deal with, how to avoid compound eyes and get the improved range of vision anyway, his mother entered the room, moved quickly to his side, and somehow yanked out the implant. It stung as it was removed and created a throbbing headache that pounded inside his skull.
“OW! What the hell?”
“They made a mistake!” she explained. “And where you picked up that language, I do not know. You’re a Scientist. It’s not the way you should talk!”
He looked sideways and blinked twice, turning on the overhead lights. “Why did you do that, Mother? My head – I’ve got a splitting headache!”
“It’s because you’re so smart!” she told him. “Roger, you’re so smart, after what you’ve been through, that you’re going to become…” LauraLee paused, lowering her eyes reverently. “You’re going to become one of Them. A Leader. Alpha rank. It’s the lowest level of the highest level, but you’re in!”
“I’m going to become a what?” His mother’s garments had begun flashing blues, violets and magentas instead of the usual yellows, reds and greens. It was the signal that she was emotionally roused. What she had done was important, she told him. He would be moving to a new, bigger room, with a grand view. It was likely that he would never see his Teddy Bear, his toy cars, or his Elvis poster again.
“You need to understand that you’re going to be fitted for Free-Think for more than five hours a day!” His mother kissed him with sloppy joy. “You have honored our genes. We need to bring up your Father, so he can hear the news!”
She made a gesture toward one of the floating objects that always surrounded her, as she commanded her son to stand tall and straight. “Remember, he can see you, even though he is Dead, and cannot talk!”
A faint hologram flickered, then steadied. Within a blue haze, a tall, slender male with muscular arms and legs stood before them. He looked as young as Roger. LauraLee had previously explained to Roger that the hologram of his father’s body, unlike those of the living, could not be touched, but select parts of his brain were still alive – kept so, in order to register every possible sense of joy and pride that could be transmitted into the man’s brain and heart as his last conscious memories.
All deaths were manipulated to be happy ones, but it was especially good when a genuine triumph for a family could be brought to a Dead member. Since there was only one such opportunity possible, LauraLee had held off this final goodbye for years, full of hope that Phillip’s last thoughts of happiness might include Roger. Now, though Phillip was about to lose the last of his brainwaves and memories forever, he could hear – he could comprehend – that his son had not only survived but, magnificent news indeed! He would become a Leader! The pale lips of the Hologram seemed to smile at the news. It was rare to see any movement in such a Hologram, but Roger’s father was no ordinary man.
“I’m overjoyed!” LauraLee cried out to the silent hologram, “I’m so glad I didn’t bring you up, my Beloved, to hear Roger’s voice when he was first restored to us. For sure, you will now die with the best of memories – happy, and proud! All your sacrifices, Phillip, were worth it. Your sacrifices gave me the courage to rescue him. We have save
d our son! Your death was not in vain!”
Roger watched as the thin lips of his dead father made a kind of grimace of pleasure and pride. “You were correct about his potential, Phillip,” LauraLee said. “He has not only returned to us safe and strong, but he has exceeded every prediction.” She turned to the tall young man standing at her side. “Tell him something, Roger, before he leaves us.”
“Father, thank you for trying to save my sister,” he told the hologram. “Thank you for being here. I will treasure this memory and never erase it.”
Roger stood ramrod straight as his Father gazed steadily at him. Then the face’s eyes slowly closed, and the hologram vanished.
“He waited for this,” LauraLee said softly. “He somehow kept contact with us until you returned to us. Years longer than they said was possible. Now, he is fulfilled. He can truly rest in peace.”
Roger saw tears in the corners of his mother’s eyes as she poked at the floating panel before her. He knew she was turning off his Father’s hologram and that he’d never see it again. As for the floating panel, he couldn’t see much of his mother’s, but now he had one, too. It had taken Roger some time to figure out why everyone he’d been introduced to kept making flicking motions here and there as they spoke. They were turning things off and turning things on, and it was all done in their heads, with some kind of residual motion going on with their hands so that those around them understood that they were busy. Only families or Mates could see each other’s panels. But wait! The thought occurred to him that he wasn’t going to be a Scientist now. Not only that, but his mother was saying that a new Mate would be chosen for him. She would be a Leader, or in the family of a leader…Before he had a chance to think more about it, his brain closed down. Free-Think time was over.
He had no memory of what he did or where he was or how long he was shut down, but it seemed that only a mere instant had passed, and he was awake again.
