“Auts?” The staffer said under her breath. “I didn’t think of it like that Headmaster, only thought how great it’d be to teleport home, see me mum and pop for dinner every now and then.”
“Well then clearly you are not the right material for the job. We have a task here which, above everything else, is to ensure people think highly of the UAN. The UAN’s official position on the matter is that the
double a-p-a should not be funded and therefore their work must be ignored.”
The young lady was taken back and inclined to ask, “How do you ignore their work when they’ve teleported a monkey across the country?”
“It’s not your job to ask how,” Ms. Fudore said with utter disdain. “Don’t you see you can visit your parents anytime you’d wish in the Cloud?” Alceon paused, waiting for a response. “Since you have a hard time seeing how this goes directly against everything we stand for, your position with the UAN will be terminated, effective immediately.” The Headmaster had a way of getting to the point and would leave after doing so. There was hardly ever time to refute a second time. When she spoke, people listened and rarely talked back.
It was stories like this that helped her gain admiration throughout the UAN network of educational administrators. They viewed her as principled when it came to UAN policy – ruthless with opposition, and were happy that she played for the same team they did.
Alceon Fudore was instrumental in shaping the values of the UAN. Before she took a job with the UAN, she was a deputy ambassador with the US government. She was stationed in Italy. Alceon had a knack for being in the right place at the right time. It was at an Ambassador Ball in Rome in the early 2060s where she met Vincent Hardly. Vincent was recruiting advocacy workers for a coalition, which later became known as the United Autonomous Networks. Alceon Fudore was a natural fit for the UAN. She understood the goals of the organization and had the government contacts and diplomatic grit to help the organization gain respect in the international community. But more importantly she saw it as a means to an end, the platform to launch her into the history books.
With the UAN she would have an opportunity to shape the organization; not just replace somebody that worked there before her.
And when they offered her the Headmaster position at North Mountain Academy her only response was, “When can I start?”
Creating a network of Academies was her idea at one of the first UAN summits, and the idea was well received. They knew in order to be mainstream they would need institutions on a par with the renowned education centers around the world. They would need a collective voice, and what better way to create one than through the educational process. The Academies were not seen as institutions to join a service, but students were known as Cadets and many Cadets went to work for the UAN. Some worked to improve infrastructure, others focused on advocacy and many more were interested in how the school taught one to climb the VF scale. This, climbing the VF Scale, was really where UAN Academies like North Mountain had their edge over traditional academic institutions. The Academies attracted the whole gamut of students and North Mountain was known as the most prestigious one, with the most influential Headmaster.
Ms. Alceon Fudore had a top notch house computer, the Aseaka System, in her quarters. This system was capable of reading her brainwaves for setting the mood and adjusting ambient lighting. It could tell if Alceon was having a bad day and wanted to be left alone or if she needed some soothing aroma therapy. As far as reading off the ticker of news or giving a weather report, Alceon would simply speak up and ask.
Ms. Fudore already knew of the impending decision the UAN was going to make regarding reproduction research in the Cloud. It had been a long week and she wanted to hear it again to be sure of any details she may have missed. She wanted to be prepared for her dinner with the UAN chancellor, Richard Seymore. As she was applying eyeliner in her bathroom, she asked the Aseaka system, “Status update on reproduction research please?”
Over the intercom, the Aseaka system said:
UAN chancellor Richard Seymore has made his final decision.
The UAN has decided to fund research on reproducing in the Cloud.
The decision was made after US congress approved the measure allowing UAN Diplomatic Immunity on US soil…
Alceon tuned out by ignoring the rest of the broadcast; she knew the details and just wanted to hear the news again. She felt as though a personal goal was met. She did not realize that the chancellor was going to publicly announce the decision so soon, but she met the decision with a sigh of relief. Not all the weight was on her shoulders. She knew the issue was touchy to those that paid attention closely, but she also knew that most people felt it had nothing to do with them.
The decision would make some noise with the talking heads, but she felt it would soon dissipate and dissolve into the plethora of other information beaming through the airwaves. Alceon felt people would soon forget that the UAN had taken steps to grow their own people in the Cloud. This was the bluntest of ways to look at the project.
In Alceon’s mind she also felt rejoiced that some enthusiasts of reproduction research would get what they wanted. Funding the research was a necessary step for those that wanted to have offspring while in the Cloud. People that went consciousness to consciousness and not only wanted to live in the Cloud, but also wanted to have children of their very own blood were assigned to the P Class. These individuals whose VF Scale reading was designated with an alpha P above the v like so, #vp##, were given an extra-large plat of virtual memory that they could share with their significant other. The P Class indicated the commitment to having children in the hive and those that opted to do so were given preferential treatment, better pay and the seemingly non-binding designation of P Class. Many opted to be in the P Class simply because it was an easy way to get a notch up in pay grade and never felt they would actually go through with trying for children in the Cloud. Nonetheless, they were viewed as instrumental in getting the research funded.
Ms. Alceon Fudore was giddy after the decision looked final, but not the type to spend time celebrating the small wins, she decided to act quickly. She got the attention of the Aseaka System and summoned Becky Carlyle, her newest aid.
While she was waiting for Becky, she turned on her television and watched CRN action news to gauge the public outcry. She wasn’t surprised to see that Chancellor Richard Seymore’s decision reverberated throughout the world.
Alceon was shocked as she watched two disasters unfold right before her eyes.
First, a Cloud hive was bombed in Mogadishu where terrorists fired rockets at the local hive, clearly taking out pods with humans inside; an unknown number of casualties was reported. The coverage was swift, showing footage of protests in the shadowy moonlit streets of Somalia. Then the coverage switched to the next catastrophe. Terrorists in Islamabad infiltrated security and decimated a hive with a Biodar Bomb, effectively spreading a neurological system disease throughout the hive instantaneously and killing all those in hibernation. The news was shocking. The terrorist attacks stole the headlines; aerial shots of the two cities’ streets were shown on the screen side by side. The anchorman could hardly keep up. The chancellor’s decision reverberated throughout the holy land. In America the news was not met with violence, however it garnered negative attention from the religious community. This was only denoted across the bottom ticker on the screen, reading, religious conservatives have started the We Stand For True Life petition.
Alceon poured a shallow glass of bourbon and knocked it back. The reaction throughout the world was overwhelming.
The attacks alarmed Alceon, but she didn’t panic. She knew that it was a touchy issue, with religious people especially. Alceon knew that managing the perception of the UAN was going to be challenging. She knew how to handle the press though and she knew the UAN was going to need a swift response. Her dinner with the chancellor needed to be a productive one.
C H A P T E R 3
Becky Carlyle
left her meeting with Alceon Fudore full of anxiety. She was making her way from the Adirondack building towards the hive research facility on campus. The lake community around North Mountain Academy still had the college campus vibrancy, although the attacks left a hint of somberness in the air. Many were out and about making their way to and fro on the campus yard, feeling safe as ever. It was one of the nice things about Sandpoint. The town was known for being a safe place and the residents didn’t feel directly attached to the terrorist attacks on the other side of the world.
Becky, on the other hand, knew the decision to fund reproduction research had a much more direct effect on North Mountain Academy. Her trip to Alceon Fudore’s quarters left her with the task of launching Operation Honey Juice into motion, which was their code word for the family building research. She would oversee the taskforce of scientists for the reproduction experiments. She wasn’t hands-on with the research, but had the position of liaison between the media and the progress the scientist personnel made.
Becky had quite the education, she felt prepared for anything, but this was a task to oversee. She was the type who thrived on stress; it seemed to pump a productive endorphin through her veins. The anxiety would send her mind into overdrive when pondering the potential of these experiments. She knew it was an opportunity that could launch her career.
The experiments were handled by three teams, the Blue Team, the Purple Team and the Black Team. The Blue Team was put in charge of ensuring the proper cultivation of the Male Seed. Dr. Spencer Wreeks was to lead the research on this. Dr. Wreeks had a dimpled smile with parted blonde hair that complimented his immaculate record in genetics research. The children born inside the Cloud were to be free of genetic impurity. Dr. Wreeks was just the man to be in charge of gene selection, natural selection took precedent for the most part in Dr. Wreeks’ philosophy, but ensuring there would not be physical complications was something he perfected.
The Purple Team’s responsibility was to handle inoculation of the Female Egg and oversight of fetal development. Dr. Elise Ellison oversaw the Purple Team. She was a consummate professional with a decorated history of award winning research in prenatal care. Her work piggybacked off the well known belief that children could begin the educational process as soon as the fetus began growing a brain. Dr. Ellison showed through her research that delivering rhythmic sonar to the fetus would enable the child to understand arithmetic at much earlier ages. She was the perfect candidate to help ensure children born in the Cloud would be equipped with every known mental advantage. Dr. Ellison claimed with the controlled environment of Cloud reproduction, children would be able to read by the age of three and a half.
The Black Team was in charge of bridging the other two teams. Alceon hired Dr. James Celsus as the lead researcher. Dr. Celsus didn’t
have the same credentials as the other doctors. He was an engineer first and then was trained as a nutritionist. He also had worked with the UAN from the beginning and had a reputation as an important UAN insider. Dr. Celsus was crucial in the development of the feeding tube and the creation of the sustenance regiment. He was also instrumental in developing the housing pod for people that lived in the Cloud and knew better than anybody how the bodies were connected to the grid. The Black Team would connect the mother and father to the baby’s very own housing pod, where it would grow independent of the mother’s womb. All the pieces were in place.
It became Becky’s responsibility to initiate the start of the teams’ collaboration with one another. Alceon told her to let Dr. Celsus know he should begin his work immediately and that she needed to issue a progress report to the media on Monday morning. There was something about the way Ms. Fudore talked about the Black Team that made her think it was already operating in one way or another. She didn’t give it too much thought, there didn’t seem to be any time to. On her walk across campus towards the hive research facility she messaged Dr. Celsus, It’s time to get to work. Alceon wants a progress report for Monday morning.
She got a message back from Dr. Celsus that read, Thanks Becky. We’re underway and will report to you Sunday. Enjoy the rest of today and tomorrow, by Sunday we’ll be busy for the foreseeable future.
Becky was happy to see the message. She wasn’t quite sure how her relationship would work with Dr. Celsus since he had so much clout with the UAN. She got the feeling he was easy to work with. Becky was a hard working type of person. She knew her extra effort in the classroom and the time she put in polishing her resume would pay off. Her confidence shined brighter than all of her nice physical traits. Yet she started questioning whether or not all the hard work would pay off, did she really want to be so closely tied to a science experiment that left so many people questioning whether it was moral or not? The question she asked herself seemed ridiculous. There was no way she wanted to put the brakes on her career. The opportunity was too great. Reproduction in the Cloud was going to be part of the future. Becky knew the scientists would be able to perfect a safe way to handle the process of growing human babies in the Cloud. She thought it was just a matter of time until the process would be rolled out to the masses, no matter who was in charge of the program.
Becky realized she didn’t need to go into the research facility and that Dr. Celsus was right, she should enjoy the rest of her free time, because once the results started coming in she would be spending most of her time in the publicist role. So she made her way to the parking lot and decided to go for a drive around the lake.
C H A P T E R 4
Parker Candlefish’s tuition fund was plenty; his parents achieved a lot as teachers and supplied him with enough dough, he didn’t have to contribute in the hive to get by. Sometimes he would head down at the same time as Cad, but usually he would hold back and join him later on. Parker made a little commitment to himself that he would enjoy the outdoors around Lake Pend Oreille and not spend all his free time floating in the Cloud. Sometimes he wondered if he was wasting time, time is credit and credit paid for things. He felt though, if he couldn’t afford a new toy in the real-world he could enjoy the virtual equivalent in the Cloud.
He heard about the terrorist attacks in Mogadishu and Islamabad and the news jarred him a little, but like the rest of the community around North Mountain Academy, he didn’t let it show. He hoped the news would go away. He wasn’t even sure where those cities were on the world map. He felt empathy for the victims. The empathy was overcome with the feeling that those cities with terrorists needed to figure out their own problems and that they didn’t pose a threat to his way of life in Northern Idaho.
Northern Idaho always seemed a little disconnected from the outside world. It didn’t take long to gain a reputation as a nice place to go to get away from it all. The area around the lake, including Sandpoint, had a rather boom or bust history; it dates back to 1809 when a frontiersman built a general store. The store grew into a settlement for fishermen and loggers, and catered to miners in the surrounding mountains. It was a rough place to live in those early years, there was a section in the small settlement called Hang Town and it was considered an active area. The establishment later developed into a budding town after the Northern Pacific Railway came through. The silver, logging and fishing industries didn’t last forever though, and by the mid-1900s the town was better known as a place to visit for recreation. It was said the Natives of the area knew that all along. Over the years, more and more people built summer homes around the lake and winter condos at the ski resort. The tourist industry was steady and the advent of the local hive and founding of North Mountain Academy ensured Sandpoint was going to be more than an Old West railroad town.
Parker liked to think of the region’s history and felt exploring the outdoors was a way he could help commemorate those before him. He left his house on Remington Lane en route to Whiskey Rock, which was a park that had personal beach view camping spots. The camping spots were perched atop large black rock formations that waves crashed into. The rocks created a plateau that was
shaded with tall green giants, pine and fir trees with the occasional cedar. There were trails down to the water which lead to separate little coves. Parker enjoyed finding a secluded cove where he could sit and listen to the waves and try to let the water ease him of any thought.
Parker liked everything about the outdoors. He attributed much of this to his growing up on Whidbey Island, screwing around on the beach or in the woods was what set islanders apart from mainlanders. Parker would feel a certain pride when enjoying fresh air and taking in the vistas that America was so well known for. He knew he made the right decision to set aside time to enjoy the natural beauty of the world. On his half mile hike down to the lake front from the road, he enjoyed the crunch of twigs under his shoes and the smell of mountain fresh air, a mixture of melted snow and sunshine baked dampened dirt beneath his feet. In the distance the sounds of waves hitting the rocks eased Parker’s mind.
Once he got down the trail and onto the naturally formed bulkhead, Parker looked towards the lake. He loved it, being close to this lake was the biggest reason he went to North Mountain Academy. Parker grew up visiting the lake during summers. Gables Resort had been family owned for several generations, it was the place his father grew up visiting and it was the place his father took the family on vacation. The summer cabins were rustic by all means, but they had a distinct charm that was hard to replicate. They sat 60 yards or so back from the shore and were nearly concealed from view because they sat behind the tree-line. From the lake it looked like a sandy beach that met up with luscious giant green trees. Parker remembered the feeling he got when they would arrive for the weeks around 4th of July, it was like coming home for him, but more exciting. The fresh air whisking off the glacier fed lake had a sweet crisp smell. It had to be good for you, he would think. Once he learned there was an Academy in Sandpoint he knew that’s where he wanted to go. He could even ski during the winter if he wanted to.
Dawn of Modern Man Page 2
