Dawn of Modern Man

by Nick Plastino

  The first thing Parker noticed, after the lake breeze, was a person sitting close to the edge of the rock, an older man was fishing. The guy was dressed like he was living in the woods or one of those yurt communities with communal bathrooms. Idaho was known for having more sustainable living communities than other states. They were tax exempt as long as they were self-sustaining. The fisherman must be from the community that was close by. He was wearing mud covered galoshes and tattered clothes with his sleeves rolled up exposing a wrist with thick bracelets. The man looked to be in his late 50s or early 60s. Either way the guy was definitely in his own world there, probably fishing for dinner, and Parker made sure not to scare the fish when he walked by.

  As he started walking down an offshoot that he found a few trails down from the fisherman, he realized he was walking up on a bunch of pretty blond hair, sitting atop a slender figure, athletically throwing small rocks into the water. He thought to turn around, but decided best not to. “You like to do this too?” Parker said as he approached the young woman, doing his best to sound confident.

  Looking somewhat startled the young woman turned and looked at Parker. She said, “Do what?” She paused. Parker didn’t say anything. The young woman continued, “Throw rocks in the water? – If that’s what you mean then… yes. I didn’t know I liked doing it until today.” She spoke with surprising comfort, which was followed by an uncomfortable silence as Parker picked up a rock. He threw it as high as he could, it took a couple seconds for the stone to come down which made a pleasant thupe as it broke the surface of the water.

  Parker didn’t really know what to say, but the silence was no longer uncomfortable as the young woman glanced over at him with a smile that put him at ease. He grabbed another rock as she did and they both threw simultaneously, he was surprised by how close hers landed to his. “Damn, you’ve got a pretty good arm,” Parker said.

  “I played fast-pitch in secondary school.” “I can tell.”

  Parker took care to mind his throwing motion and threw an egg sized rock far out into the lake. His shirt made a swift ruffle sound as his arm broke the wind with the toss. The young woman stepped forward and threw one just as far as Parker.

  Parker was impressed. He didn’t think much of his arm, but he never saw a woman that could throw as far as him.

  “What do you do now?” Parker said. “Oh that’s a long story.”

  “I’m not in a hurry.”

  “Essentially, I work for Alceon Fudore at North Mountain Academy.”

  Parker quickly thought she must be older than she looks. “Oh, I’m in my third year at North Mountain. Is it an interesting job?”

  “Yeah, interesting is a mild way to put it. What are you studying?” the young woman asked.

  Parker felt he impressed upon her somehow. Maybe it was that he went to North Mountain or maybe it was that he looked okay throwing a rock, but he wasn’t sure. “Quantities Analysis and Strategy,” Parker liked telling people that.

  “What are you going to do with that?”

  “Most people in QA and Strategy go into Public Service consulting or some other kind of administration. Me, I don’t know. So many people seem to have it figured out. This year is almost over and I still don’t know what I want to do.”

  “Oh I know what you mean, I recently finished at North Mountain, well 3 years ago now, but it seems like it was yesterday. As far as what’s next, it’s hard to know, but I’m sure something will come up.”

  “I feel like something will.”

  “I got lucky after I graduated. I was offered a good position with the Academy. So I didn’t think about it for long. I accepted the job.” The young woman said with a thoughtful expression, “But I still wonder what’s next. I mean the Virtual Reality Cloud hasn’t even been around that long and people are already making decisions to spend their whole life in there. It’s a voluntary choice they make, but it is crazy. Am I wrong to think something is really out of balance here?” After she spoke she had a look on her face that said she went a little too far.

  Parker had an amazing feeling rush over him, one that made him feel not alone.

  “No, I mean yeah, it seems kind of like that,” Parker said.

  “It feels like this is where society is heading though, and who are we to judge those that want to live their life like that,” the young lady said.

  “I agree. What’s your name anyway? Mine is Parker Candlefish.” “Becky Carlyle, it’s nice to meet you,” she said.

  Becky and Parker exchanged contact information which was done very easily through a waving of the mobile device. They were both silent for a few moments afterward. Parker picked up another stone and threw it high up in the air out into the water. “So how did you start working for the famed Alceon Fudore?” Parker said.

  Becky laughed. “Well what you’ve probably heard is true. She is hard to get a job for, but the thing is, people don’t last long working for her. She has a certain way of letting people go when they’re not up to the job. Or actually more like, when they don’t completely agree with her she fires them, which makes for an interesting work environment, to say the least.”

  “So are you saying people get fired and there are job openings?” Parker said with a hint of sarcasm.

  “Yes, something like that, there’s a never ending line of interested applicants though. And Alceon hand picks the people that work beside her by going over their Academy test scores. I did well on mine and worked my way into the position,” Becky said.

  “Oh yeah, the test, I keep telling myself I need to study for it. I’ve got mine coming up soon.”

  “The better you do, the more opportunities you’ll have. The Academy sees the scores first and tries to retain the best talent,” Becky said.

  “I know it’s important. I’m trying not to let it stress me out too much though. I figure there’s only so much studying to do. Isn’t the test supposed to evaluate critical thinking and it’s not so much about what a person already knows?” Parker said.

  “Yes, it’s not perfect though and practice tests do help.”

  “Yeah that’s something I need to spend some time doing.”

  Becky got serious. “There’s a lot that’s going to change in the world. The reason I work where I do is because I want to be on the right side of history. Do you know what I mean?” Becky asked.

  “Are you suggesting that working for the UAN is going to put you on the right side of history?”

  Becky thought for a moment what a moral authority would think about family building in the Cloud. “No, I mean I think living in the Cloud versus working outside of it. I don’t think that living in the Cloud is going to be a long term thing. I mean the economics of producing electricity with people doesn’t really play. Solar power is so efficient… Okay let me back up, I guess I’m at odds here seeing as how I work with the UAN, it’s really just a job I saw that will lead to better things than living in the Cloud.” Becky stopped talking although it seemed she could’ve kept going.

  “Yes, but the efficiency of the Virtual Reality Cloud and why the UAN seems to be so strong is that they provide a sustainable living environment for the masses. It allows people to live a consumer culture; have what they want, when they want, without worrying about the consequences,” Parker said, realizing that his school was teaching him something.

  “Of course, I know. I graduated magna cum laude. I’m just saying do you want to live in there?”

  “Well no. I don’t. It seems like in the Cloud, life is just a big game. Is it not?” Parker paused, wondering how much of what he just said was influenced by his father, “But I don’t have any desire to work for the UAN, nor do I think a life on Federal support is enough to make me happy,” Parker said, knowing he hadn’t a clue what he wanted.

  “There’s plenty of other work opportunities than welfare or the UAN.”

  “I know, it’s just I have no idea what kind of work I want to do. Enough about me,” Parker spoke quickly, “What exa
ctly do you do for

  Alceon Fudore?”

  Becky went on to explain to him how she was in charge of progress reports for the North Mountain Academy research department, on the matter of reproduction in the Cloud. Parker got a good laugh from the name Operation Honey Juice. He didn’t think the UAN was capable of deciding on a name like that. They went on to talk about all of the complications this matter seemed to stir up. Becky tried to assure Parker that the research was for people that lived in the Cloud and wanted to have children of their own blood, even though she felt like she was just trying to assure herself that’s what they were doing with the research. Parker argued that a child should not be born in the Cloud. He stated that they don’t have a choice of reality and Becky countered his argument by saying, “Babies never have a choice of where or what they are born into.” Parker told Becky the children were going to be property of the UAN. Becky was happy to let Parker know that children would be informed at an early age of their situation and be given a choice on what life they wanted. Their bodies would actually be in better shape and they would have access to the best education known to mankind. She reiterated that it could be the greatest generation of humans, the smartest and healthiest ever to live on the earth. Parker and Becky had both heard these arguments.

  At least they argued cordially, Parker thought.

  At least he seems to appreciate the work we are doing, Becky thought. They both seemed to agree the Cloud was a fantasy land and that it wasn’t as great as the real world. Nevertheless, Parker told Becky that he was planning on visiting the local hive after the hike, he wanted to see if the terrorist attacks put restrictions on his class. After expressing concern for the victims, she seemed amused by this and told him she also liked going to the Cloud, just to pass time. Parker said, “Hopefully I’ll see you around.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you will,” Becky said as they started heading towards the trailhead leading to the road.

  Becky snickered to herself, feeling it was funny they said their goodbyes just before taking a half mile hike in the same direction. Parker was a few steps ahead and decided to take the lead up the hill.

  C H A P T E R 5

  The solar powered car Parker rode around in had a voice activated driving system that allowed Parker to tell the car where he wanted to go and it would take him there safely, no doubt. His car, like many others, was only partially solar powered. It had a charging system that utilized the highly specialized wheels. When the car was parked at home or on a designated charging system the wheels would absorb energy. The wheels of the car also worked symbiotically with the road which had a thin magnetic top coat that created less friction with the reverse polarized wheels, essentially making the car lighter. The road acted more like a track and the wheels could change their polarity and clamp down on the magnetic road allowing for precise control. The sun did, however, drastically increase the car’s range on the open road.

  Parker got in his ride, the Solar Citizen, and prompted the car, “Sandpoint hive, please.”

  The car spoke back in a pleasant tone so many people knew to trust, “Proceeding to Sandpoint hive, ETA 22 minutes. Did you need a coffee, Parker?”

  Parker thought for a moment, “Yes, Car.” Many people named their car, things like Luxo or Autopod, but Parker thought of it as a throwback to call his car, Car. Parker really enjoyed riding in his Solar Citizen. It was long, tall and sleek, it could change colors. Parker preferred black, but sometimes just for the hell of it he would ask the car to change to cherry red if the mood seemed right. The car seated six people with two in the front facing back, two in the rear and two on the side bench. The seats were part of the climate control system, made of synthetic materials that could adjust firmness, temperature and even texture. Parker could ask his car for different types of aromatherapy, he usually didn’t, but sometimes he asked for euphoria.

  The car knew his habits well, performed scheduled maintenance on its own and didn’t cost a dime to drive, except for the monthly grocery bill. The car would go to the grocery store and stock up on snacks. Many grocery stores specialized in loading up autonomous cars. There were special trunks along the side of the car. Some were compartments for food to eat while in the car and others were to be unloaded once the car drove back to the house. People that had a car like Parker’s Solar Citizen were on the leading edge of technology. The car was a gift from Parker’s grandparents; they gave it to him when he was accepted into the Academy. It acted as his personal assistant, more so than his mobile device or the house system, and he thoroughly enjoyed when the car made him a cup of coffee.

  The Solar Citizen’s side dash looked more like a limousine mini- bar. When Parker’s coffee was finished, a compartment slid open and the car prompted, “Your coffee is ready Parker, anything else?”

  Parker reached for the coffee. Once his hand touched the mug, the electromagnetic bond keeping it from spilling released. Parker brought the mug to his lips to have a drink. “No thanks, this coffee will do.”

  The ride to Sandpoint from Whiskey Rock was about 20 minutes. Parker enjoyed every moment of it. He enjoyed drinking his coffee slow while he gazed out at the lake from above on the road.

  The atmosphere in downtown Sandpoint was fluid, people were jostling around the streets and voices from popular open-air cafés carried over the quiet murmur of the traffic. It seemed the all too recent terrorist attacks had minimal, if no impact on the people. Parker left his car, which drove off in silence to park.

  As he stepped onto the sidewalk he gazed up at the hive, which appeared rather massive, compared to the other buildings in Sandpoint, which were mainly three or four story high condos with retail on the bottom. The hive stood nearly 450 feet tall, small by hive standards. The building had an egg shape to it, bulging at the sides and tapering to a rounded top.

  The building had protruding pods, mostly filled with people, wrapped around the hive from a few floors up. Parker thought they looked cool, and found it strange that you could see the leg end of human bodies in the pods when you looked from the right angle. The pods had surfboard shaped bottoms that were flat. The bottoms were a solid dark metallic color. The rest of the pod looked like a clear egg filled with a semi-opaque green mycelium liquid. The space in between the pods, the walls of the hive, had a glossy copper gold shimmer. Parker knew that it was actually some type of copper alloy that had an oily residue. Apparently the material was the most efficient for helping harness the electricity. Parker looked up from the street and saw the translucent greenish orange from the sunset that shined through the pods. Pods like this had been around for almost ten years in certain parts of the country and still the sight of those greenish pods with the sun beaming through them, giving way to the limp human bodies inside, left Parker with a feeling of awe.

  Walking through the local hive entrance was like entering a luxury hotel. The doors were large, opulent and had a thick circular platinum handle that joined at the center. Usually the doormen opened it, standing on the outside, side by side, dressed in charcoal gray suits

  with matching captain hats. The emblem on the hat was the UAN Insignia, a small silver infinity snake below the Eye of Providence. To the left of the pyramid eye was a lightning bolt. The symbol on the right of the insignia was the Scales of Justice, an official looking crest. The doormen were professional, clean shaven, healthy looking men. It was well known that their main duty was security, however most people felt at ease around them. They were good at making people feel comfortable. Some though, like the fisherman on Whiskey Rock, didn’t feel comfortable around UAN security.

  Parker liked the feeling of walking through the opulent lobby of the hive. He felt at ease, the air was pleasantly refreshing and the tile floors gave way to echoes as people walked through the lobby. In a lot of ways walking into a hive was like walking into a fancy hotel. It wasn’t just the décor or way the lobby was run, it was also that people would come to stay a while, like a day or two while others made it their residence.
The ones that stayed a while were probably there to make some money. For an average college aged kid, it would take a day or two in the hive to make enough scratch to have fun for a while. 48 hours spent in the hive paid similar to 16 hours of work on the outside, depending on how skilled the worker is of course, but the trade-off was about the same; those that could earn on the outside usually earned better on the inside too. Hotels didn’t pay their guests after leaving though, an obvious difference, but there was still something very similar about the entire process of checking into a hive.

  Parker was only looking for a dry dock hook-up, which meant he could leave his clothes on and not have to worry about hooking up to a feeding tube and crawling into the mycelium liquid. He stayed longer a few times, and actually found the experience pleasing in many ways. The mycelium liquid left his skin feeling brand new. But usually Parker preferred his sessions in the hive to last only a few hours or so. It was never really enough time to make a big dent in his class rank, but

  he wasn’t worried about that. His degree would bump him up a class regardless.

  The woman at the front counter checking people in had worked there the entire time Parker had gone to North Mountain. She was short and cute, had a rather robust waistline, but an equally robust bosom that just barely poked out above the counter. She was good at her job and always remembered Parker’s name and he remember hers too.

  “Just a dry-dock for the night, Nina,” Parker said.