By Lawrence Letham
John held his shiny, new drivers license complete with a holographic picture of himself with a serious look on his face. The license meant more to John than just being able to drive. For as long as he could remember, he wanted to take a solo journey - just him in his vintage Flonson floater. Nobody drove off to explore the country anymore. His friends didn’t even show an interest in getting their licenses, but not John. He was ready to go.
John drove home to get his things.
“Why is it you have to go on this
trip anyhow?” his mother asked.
“We’ve been over this, Mom.
I want to see what’s out there.”
“Why not just look at it through
your geo-viewer?” his mother said.
“It’s not the same!”
John answered.
“This is all your fault,
Harold.”
His mother glared at his father. A
yellow light on her minder lit up.
“I told you we shouldn’t
have let him get that floater,” his mother said in a lowered voice.
“Don’t look at me like that!
I think it’s stupid too, but he’s big now. There is nothing we can do. Anyhow,
his minder will be with him,” John’s father replied.
Of course – my minder, thought
John.
His minder, like everyone’s,
hovered around him 24 hours a day, seven days a week. It was always there monitoring and
reporting.
“You also need your holographic
com-link, food generator and your emergi-locator,” his father said.
John put them in the stack to take to
the car.
“What about your reading
pad?” his sister added.
“What about your reading
pad?” John mimicked his sister. “Anything, just as long as it’s not
you.”
“Don’t be so mean to your
sister,” John’s mother scolded him.
John loaded his gear in his floater
and waved good-bye to his family. Soon he had left them all behind. It was so nice and
peaceful. All he could hear was the quiet hum of the floater engine as it breezed down an
old asphalt road. There was really no need to follow the road since floaters could go
anywhere, but it made him feel like he had gone back in time. It was just like the videos
he watched from the archives while he was restoring the floater. Everything was so quiet,
so fresh. It was just what he was looking for.
It had not been long when the view screen on the dash lit up.
“Hi Dear. I just wanted to see
how you were doing,” his mother said.
“I’m fine, Mom,” John
replied a little testy. He had always wished view screens had off-buttons, but they never
did.
“Having fun?” she continued.
“Yes, Mother.”
“That’s great. Your father
wanted to talk to you, too.”
“Hi, son.” His father’s
image appeared on the view screen. John could hear the holo-tainer in the background tuned
to the Sports World channel, as it always was when his father was in front of it.
“What was the name of that guy
who won the quad cup three years ago?” he asked.
“It was Byn, Dad. Willard
Byn”
“Oh yeah! I remember now, he was
the one that …”
John tried to mentally tune him out
and lost track of how long his father talked. When the view screen finally went blank, the
holographic com-link turned on.
“Hey, Johnny Boy! Your view
screen sure has been busy.”
“What do you want, Bruce?”
John asked. He could not hide the exasperation he felt.
“Whoa! Big trip got you a bit
edgy!” Bruce said.
“I guess. You know how irritating
it can be when the view screen keeps interrupting.”
There was a pause. John knew that
Bruce loved his view screen. Daily he contacted whomever he could to say something nice
just so the green light on his green minder would light up.
His only purpose in life was to make his green light flash.
“You’ll be alright. Just
hang in there big guy. We love you.”
John saw a green light flashing on the
holographic image of Bruce’s minder. Bingo John thought.
“What did you need, Bruce?”
“Huh,
right,” Bruce said. “Well, I’ve got the gang here and we are trying to find
you on the geo-locator. Where are you?”
John picked up the emergi-locator and
read the coordinate to Bruce.
“Yeah! There you are going down
that thing. What are those things called?” Bruce asked.
“A road, Bruce.”
John didn’t even try to hide his
irritation. The yellow light on his minder lit up.
“This is Matt,” another
image appeared. “Get out your geo-finder, we have something wild to show you.”
John felt anger rising in him as he
reached for his geo-finder. He looked at his minder. The light was still yellow, but his
anger only increased as he looked the places his classmates thought he would find
interesting. At last they were gone. John took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.
The view screen lit up again.
“Damn!” John said.
A red light started flashing on his
minder.
“Damn!” he said again and
swung at the minder, but it deftly avoided getting hit.
His mother’s image appeared on
the view screen.
“John!” she said. “Your
minder has noted an inappropriate expression. What is going on? You know what this means
don’t you? Your grounded and you will not…”
His father’s image burst out of
the holographic com-link. He stood there with his hands on his hips.
“What is going on?” he
demanded. “The neighborhood notifier just reported that you used an inappropriate
expression. Certainly you… “
John’s mother scolded through the
view screen. His father’s hologram was talking loudly and gesturing.
“Damn!” John said.
He sat up on the back of the seat and
smashed his foot into the view screen. His mother’s face shrank until it was a tiny
dot on the screen that disappeared. Another red light started flashing on the minder.
John slammed on the breaks, grabbed
the holographic com-link and leaped out of the car.
“This has got to stop!” he
said over an over again while he searched the ground.
He found a fist sized rock and smashed
the com-link again and again until his father’s image fizzled and disappeared with a
pop. The minder, which hovered over him, was now flashing red everyplace.
John paused. He could imagine what
everyone would say: Son, technology is our friend. What happened to John? How could he do
it? This is not the mere destruction of an instrument; it is an attack against our
societal underpinnings!
“I know what this means and
I’m not taking it any more,” he shouted at his minder.
He threw the rock directly at it, but
it moved and the rock flew by harmlessly.
John ran to the car and the minder
followed him at a safe distance. He dumped the contents of his backpack onto the seat and
carried it as he ran away from the car. He had not gotten far before he tripped and fell
to the ground with a thud.
“Ohhhh,” he moaned. The
monitor immediately zoomed over to him.
“John Bittlesmith,” it
called to him in its mechanical voice. “Please turn over. I must see if you are
hurt.”
John moaned again.
“John Bittlesmith. You must turn
over.”
When John did not move, the minder
descended and nudged him in an attempt to roll him onto his back. With blindingly fast
motion, John rolled to his back and scooped the minder into his open backpack. He drew the
drawstring closed and leaped to his feet. Both hands gripped the backpack as he swung it
high over his head and smashed it into the ground. He smashed it again and again and again
until his arms ached. He knew that the minder was utterly and completely destroyed. John
walked slowly back to the car. He gathered all the other electronic items and smashed each
of them to bits. He climbed back into his convertible and drove off the road into the
wilderness. The wind blew in his hair; there was nobody for miles around. There was
nothing to interrupt or correct him. The sunset cast brilliant red across the sky. It was
beautiful and peaceful. It was all he had ever wanted.
“I have never seen such wanton
disregard for everything we hold dear,” the judge bellowed from the bench. It had
been a short trial. John was not even given the opportunity to plead innocent. The
minder’s last transmission clearly proved his guilt.
“It has been decades since this
court has seen anything so heinous. Your actions prove beyond doubt that you are a
dangerous, dangerous criminal. You destroyed your minder, you fled the jurisdiction and
when our dedicated police officers finally caught up with you, you resisted arrest. There
are no mitigating factors. I hereby sentence you to imprisonment in the
penitentiary.”
The judge banged his gavel. The
courtroom was utterly silent. Usually the convict’s mother would at least sob a
little, but the images of John’s actions were still too vivid in her mind. She did
not even look up as they lead him out of the room.
In the transport van, guards traded
the minder John was given when the police caught him for a new one. It was bright red. As
soon as the van started off, the prison warden’s face appeared on the view screen.
“Well, prisoner R3258TK9,”
the warden said.
John must have had a concerned look on
his face because the warden looked right into his eyes and said, “That’s right
boy! That’s your number and you had better get used to it.”
The warden carried on, but John did
not hear him. Although he tried not to show it on the outside, he was scared. He had heard
about prison. It was horrible. He had heard about the beam. No one ever came out. Panic
welled up inside of him. He took a deep breath and thought back to that day in the car.
Unfettered, alone, free. He longed to be there.
The van floated up to the penitentiary
gate. John saw a building surrounded by a series of force fields. Hundreds of minders
paroled the grounds. The bottom dropped out of his stomach. It looked as horrible as he
had imagined it. The guards forced John out of the van just as a state licensed floater
pulled to a stop. The warden stepped out.
“Well, prisoner R3258TK9,”
the warden said. “Welcome to your home.”
The warden paused and stared at John
as though he expected some response. John stood silently. He was not going to let the
warden see that he was afraid.
The warden snapped his fingers,
“Notify the block leader. Tell him to come fetch his new charge.”
The warden eyed John narrowly. One of
the guards spoke in to his com-link. A door in the building opened and an eerie green
light flooded out. That must be the beam John thought. He saw the guard next to him
tremble. A strange look came over the warden’s face –one of suppressed terror.
The light was momentarily blocked as a man walked through the door. The warden regained
his composure. He noticed that John was looking at him.
“Get your eyes over there,”
he hissed.
The man coming out of the prison wore
a one-piece jump suit, just like John’s. He had a cloth over his head and his eyes
looked out two holes. A red minder hovered over him.
“Open the gates,” the warden
ordered.
The guard spoke into the com-link. The
gates opened in succession.
“Get in there prisoner
R3258TK9,” the warden said.
“Aren’t you going with
me?” John asked.
“Not on your life! Criminals in
there,” the warden said pointing to the building. “Good people out here,”
he said point away from the building.
Alone, John walked slowly towards the
man. Each gate closed as he passed it. He stopped in front of the man and the last gate
closed. He was afraid.
“Follow me,” the man said.
The minders in the yard followed them,
but stopped as they passed through the door. The green light filled the room and seemed to
get brighter when the door closed. Rows of men lined both sides of the room. Each stood in
a separate cylindrical cage that had red bars. A red minder floated over each. Each was
naked and the skin on the entire body was so wrinkled that they looked ancient. Eyes
peering out from hideously wrinkled faces followed him as he walked by. Grotesque naked
bodies turned to get a better look..
How old are they John wondered. How
long have they been tortured like this?
They stopped at a circular platform.
“Take off your clothes and stand
on the platform,” the man said.
If I step on the platform, will it
change me to look like them John wondered?
He wanted to scream. He wanted his
mother, his father even his sister. He was so sorry. Why did he ever do what he did? It
wasn’t worth it. He would do anything to get out of here! Maybe he just needed to
feel sorry then they would let him go. He looked at his minder. It was totally red.
Couldn’t it tell he was sorry? The minder he destroyed would have known.
“Take off your clothes and stand
on the platform,” the man repeated.
John slowly took off his clothes.
Naked he stepped onto the platform and moved towards the circle in the center. A cylinder
rose from the floor and completely surrounded him.
“Raise your arms,” a
mechanical voice said.
When his arms reached a horizontal
position, shafts of light shot from the cylinder towards him. He could feel the light
probe every inch of his body. It was taking a body print for identification. The light
stopped and the cylinder slid back into the ground. John looked at his skin and felt
relieved. It was not wrinkled.
“Step into the circle,” the
man said and pointed to the next open location in a row of red cages.
John stepped into the circle and
turned to face the man. Beams of red light shot up from the floor to form the bars of his
cage. He felt his body lift. His feet still touched the ground, but he did not feel his
own weight.
I’m going to hang here for the
rest of my life, just like these others John thought.
“No!” he screamed.
“No!”
He grabbed the bars and felt a jolt of
electricity and intense heat. He pulled them back quickly.
“No! I’m sorry. Please,
I’m sorry. Let me go!” His chest heaved uncontrollably. “Please
let…” he choked.
The man in front of him lowered his
head.
The red bars disappeared. John
suddenly felt his own weight. The men and the other red cages vanished. The green light
was replaced with white light. A group of men were running towards John from across the
room. The man in front of him pulled of his hood.
“It’s OK son. Just be
calm,” he said to John.
John jumped back.
“Stay away from me!” John
screamed.
The man came towards him. His arms out
stretched like he was going to grab him.
“Don’t touch me,” John
yelled.
The group of men was closing in. John
bolted to get away. The man with the mask lunged and grabbed John’s arm. John turned
and kicked him as hard as he could. The man let go and John ran, but he could hear the
group of men right behind him. Another hand grabbed John, then another. John kicked and
squirmed and bit.
“Hold him,” one man yelled.
“Stun him,” shouted another
man.
An electric sounding pop exploded on
John’s back. He crumpled to the floor. The men rolled him on to his back. He could
see and hear and his heart was beating wildly, but his limbs would not move. The man with
the hood looked into his face.
”I’m sorry we had to do that John. You were going to hurt yourself.”
“Who are you?” John found he
could speak.
“My name is Smedley. I am one of
the controllers here.”
John could see the other men doing
something to his hands, but he could not feel anything.
“Why are you tying me up?”
John asked.
“We’re not tying you up. You
burned your hands on the containment field. They’re putting bandages on them,”
Smedley spoke in a soothing voice.
“Where did the cages go?”
“They are gone.”
“But where did they go,”
John asked.
“We’re done with his hands
Smedley,” one of the men interrupted.
“Thanks. Tom, go get his clothes
please.”
Smedley turned back to John.
“I’m going to give you your
strength back, but you have to promise me that you won’t go wild.”
Smedley waited.
“You have to promise that
you’ll be calm or I won’t counteract the stun,” Smedley said.
“What are you going to do to
me?” John asked.
“We aren’t going to do
anything. We’re your friends John. We won’t hurt you.”
“Alright,” John said.
Smedley touched the side of his neck
with a rod and John felt strength return to his body. He got up and put on his jumper. His
bandaged hands hurt as he pulled up the zipper. Someone else had to tie his shoes.
“Where did all the men in the
cages go?” John asked.
“They were just holograms,”
Smedley answered.
“You mean holograms of prisoners
in other parts of the prison?”
“No, they were just holograms.
There are no prisoners here.”
“Where are they?” John said.
“Where am I? What is going on?”
The men moved in closer around John.
John breathed deeply to calm himself down. He did not want to be stunned again.
“You are in a prison, but prisons
aren’t what you think they are,” Smedley said.
“What do you mean?” said
John. “I saw the green beam and the wrinkled bodies. I burnt my hands on the bars. I
saw everything that prisons are.”
“Those props are here only for
the induction broadcast. It has to look like what everybody expects a prison to look
like,” Smedley said.
“It was all a show?” John
asked. “But why?”
“It is very rare that anyone is
sent to prison. The public wants to see the prison induction. Actually it really boosts
the news program’s ratings.”
“But where are the
prisoners?” John insisted.
“There are no prisoners,”
Smedley answered.
“Don’t play with me. Just
take me to my cell.”
“I wish Ron were here. He’s
so much better at this than I am,” Smedley sighed. “Just come with me,
John.”
The group walked to the platform in
the center of the room. Smedley walked next to John, while the others loosely surrounded
both of them. They all stepped onto the platform and Smedley retrieved a com-link from his
pocket.
“Main shaft down to center,”
Smedley spoke into the com-link.
The platform slowly descended into the
floor. The longer it went down, the faster it went. Finally it started slowing.
“I’m bringing you to the
heart of the operation, John. This is the most important place in the entire
complex.”
“What? The solitary confinement
cells?” John asked.
“No, although you will spend some
time here at first.”
The door opened. John and Smedley
walked out onto the top row of what looked like the inside of a miniature, upside-down
pyramid. Tiers, like big steps, descended down at an angle to a flat area at the bottom.
There were a few desks on each tier attended to by men and women. At the bottom, a single
man sat at a huge desk with lots of view screens.
“What is this place?” John
asked.
“It’s the main control room.
We monitor everything from this room.”
“Were you talking to someone down
here through your com-link?”
“Yes.”
John noticed that each desk on the
tiers also had several view screens.
“Are you the administrators? Do
you watch the prisoners from here? John asked.
“We are in prison, but there are
no prisoners.”
Smedley paused to see if John was
paying attention.
“In your mind, you have the
picture of a horrible place where bad people come in and are held in the beam where they
are slowly baked until they die. It’s not true. There is no such place. It’s
just propaganda. I admit we keep the image alive, so people won’t want to have
anything to do with prisons. It keeps people out and makes things simpler.”
“I saw the people. They were
wrinkled and disgusting.”
“It was all a holographic
image.”
John shook his head. He could not
believe it; it was too real.
“Come over here and look at
this,” Smedley said.
John and Smedley walked to the nearest
desk. Smedley typed on the keyboard and the men in the red cages appeared on the screen.
“There they are,” John,
whispered. Affected by seeing it.
Smedley type a few buttons and the
picture zoomed in on one cage.
”And there you are,” Smedley said.
John looked. He saw himself in his
cage just standing there.
“And you are here, too,”
said Smedley. “Where are you, John? Here or there? What is real?”
John knew he was not in the cage.
“How do you do it?” John
asked.
“We scanned your body, created a
computer model and generated your hologram. Over time we’ll add wrinkles and age you
appropriately.”
“Why do you do it?”
“There are no prisoners, but the
outside world needs to think that there are. That image is what the warden sees when he
looks through his view screen.”
“If there are no prisoners, who
do you monitor?”
Smedley pressed a few buttons on the
keyboard. The image on the view screen changed.
“What
do you seen?” Smedley asked.
“A person,” John answered.
“Do you see the beam or
cages?”
“No.”
The person in the view screen was
clearly outside.
“Let’s look at your
sister.”
Smedley typed on the keyboard and
John’s sister appeared on the screen.
“How can we see her? She’s
not in here.”
“That’s the whole point I am
trying to make. We don’t monitor people inside, we monitor people outside.”
“How? Why? Where did you get the
equipment? Do you watch the outside, so you can escape?”
“We don’t need to escape. We
come and go as we please. We are in this complex because we have an obligation,”
Smedley said.
“What do you mean?” John
asked.
“We are the people that monitor
the minders.”
“What?”
“We make sure that they are
working properly and that they are programmed to reinforce the correct type of
behavior.”
“That is impossible! You –
we’re a bunch of criminals. Minders enforce the rules. Criminals can’t make the
rules.”
“What does it mean to be
criminal?” Smedley asked.
“A criminal is someone who breaks
the rules or a person who does not have their minder.”
“That’s right. By the
world’s definition, a person who can live without a minder is a criminal even though
they don’t break the law. A hundred and fifty years ago, everything was chaos. There
were no morals. Law could not govern the people because they were so wild. The end of
civilization was approaching, so the government developed the minder to teach people what
was right and to continuously report bad acts. Then, just as today, it was illegal to
destroy or evade your minder. Those that would not conform were executed. Then the
pendulum swung too far. People had lived so long with their minders that they became
slaves to them. The machines controlled everything, but one day a person’s minder
broke and he did not go insane. He realized that he was different and that the minders
were controlling everyone. He searched for the control center, came here and brought the
machines under his control. Since that day,
we have continually searched for others that can live without a minder. You are one of
them. You can survive without a minder and by definition are a criminal”
“Anyone can survive without a
minder,” John said.
“That’s not true, but since
I can see you are not convinced, I’ll give you a demonstration.”
Smedley typed on the keyboard. Bruce
appeared on the screen.
“I’m sure you know
him,” Smedley said. “I am going to disable his minder. Watch what happens.”
Smedley pressed a button. Bruce was in
a classroom at school working on a lab assignment with his partners. He turned to the
person next to him and said something warm and fuzzy. Bruce looked up at his minder. No
green light was lit. John could see that Bruce’s mind was racing. He had to come up
with something nice to say or do. Bruce said something else and quickly looked up. He saw
that nothing was lit. He started breathing faster and licking his lips. He said something
to another person. John could see that he was sweating. He was looking around for someone
else to accost. Smedley activated Bruce’s minder and three green lights appeared.
Bruce leaned back in his chair breathing heavily like he had narrowly missed a fatal heart
attack.
“I can see that Bruce is like
that, but surely not everyone is,” John said.
“Bruce is an extreme case. He
needs constant, positive feedback, but there are only two types of people in the world:
those who need a minder and those who can live without one. Your sister can live without
one.”
“My sister?” John thought it
was impossible. She seemed so dependant on her minder.
Smedley smiled.
“Don’t be so surprised. Just
as dependence on the minder varies from minimal to constant, so does independence from the
minder. Not only could you live without a minder, you hated the thing. You got tired of
its interference. You want to be free and unfettered. Your hatred boiled over that day in
your floater when you were looking for solitude and got nothing but unsolicited feedback.
Your sister has the same desired to be free, but she is able to control herself much
better than you.” Smedley said.
“I
always thought she was such a sap.”
“Not at all. There are just over
1000 of us in the entire world. She is very important. Just as you are.”
“Come with me. I want to show you
something else,” said Smedley.
They walked towards the elevator door.
John noticed that the other men had gone away.
“Why
do you live in a prison?” John asked.
“It didn’t use to be a
prison, it was the main control center, but we had to seclude ourselves from the people.
The image of a prison is so terrifying to the public that it keeps them away. The public
can’t know who we are or what we do. If they knew that we could live without minders,
they would want to get rid of theirs too and that would be like mass suicide. We’re
protecting them from their own folly.”
“So out of the goodness of your
hearts, you stay here to protect them?” John asked.
“That’s one reason, but
probably not the real reason. We need them as much as much as they need us. If we
didn’t maintain the minders and the whole system that keeps them going, everyone
would die, but us. What kind of an existence could we have since there are so few of
us?”
The door opened and they stepped in.
Smedley spoke into his com-link and the elevator started to rise.
“What happens if a person is
capable of living without a minder, but they do bad things?” asked John.
“It is rare that a person like
that is born today. There used to be people who were genetically disposed towards crime,
but they were all executed in the first fifty years after the minder was developed.
Occasionally, there is a genetic accident and someone is born like that today. But I can
count those people on one hand.”
“What happens to them,” John
asked.
“We can’t allow those genes
to spread. Those people are executed.”
“I never knew.”
“No one does. No one but
us,” Smedley said.
The elevator stop and the door opened.
There was a long corridor with doors
on either side. They started walking.
“Why don’t you take the
people who are less dependent on minders and wean them off of them?” John asked.
“We tried that many years ago.
That’s how we know that those that need minders will go insane and kill themselves if
they do not have them. Those that need them can’t survive without them.”
“Isn’t it bad to be so
dependent on something like that?”
“It is like the organs in your
body. Are they bad because your life depends on them? That’s what a minder is to
those that needed it – a necessary organ. They need the feedback that they are doing
the right thing.”
“How young was I when you knew
that I didn’t need a minder?”
“You were about nine.”
“Why didn’t you come and get
me then?”
“You still needed to learn the
difference between right and wrong. Even though you didn’t need a minder, it did
teach you that. Anyhow, waiting until now made you a star, or should I say villain, and
reinforced the image that prisons are a terrible place that no one ever wants to visit.
John felt sorry for his parents. He
had put them through so much.
”Wouldn’t it have been better for me to just disappear instead of casting such a
stigma on my family?” John asked.
“Sure it would have been. The day
you took your drive, we were waiting at the end of the road to pick you up, but you
started your destructive episode before we could get to you.”
“You could have shut off my
minder.” John said.
“It was too late. Your mother saw
you put your foot through the view screen and your father watched as you beat the
holographic com-link to pieces. If we had disabled your minder, it would have looked
suspicious to the authorities. And then you bolted off the road into the wilderness. We
decided to let the police pick you up. Anyhow, you needed to learn a lesson. I hope the
induction scared you enough to teach you that self-control is important. You wouldn’t
have burnt your hands if you had controlled yourself. But I can hardly blame you – it
was pretty intense.”
John nodded.
“Will it be the same for my
sister?” John asked.
“No. That is where you come
in.”
They stopped in front of a door.
Smedley opened it and they walked in.
“My floater!” John yelled
with joy and ran into the room. “My Flonson floater!”
“Yep. The authorities were about
to haul it back to civilization and destroy it, but we red lighted them.”
“Thank you,” John said sincerely. “I love this thing.”
“We know,” said Smedley.
“But when will I ever be able to
drive it. We’re stuck in this place.”
“No, we’re not. First of
all, you’ll be on the recovery team. As we identify people that can live without a
minder, you will be part of the team that goes to pick them up. Your sister is next.”
“But, if I understood you
correctly, there aren’t very many people who can live without a minder, so I’ll
hardly ever get out,” John said.
“That’s true, but the part I
didn’t tell you is that we maintain sections of the world exclusively for our own
use. When you are not on rotation here, you will be able to ride your floater in any of
the parts that we control.”
“That’s fabulous, but how do
you keep people away from your sections?” John asked.
“People don’t get around
much in the first place, but whenever the odd few do get to close to our grounds, we red
light them. They just assume that it is a bad place and they would get hurt if they went
there, so they go away.”
Smedley reached into his pocket and
got his com-link.
“I need to step outside to take
this. I’ll be back in just a minute.”
Smedley left and closed the door. John
hugged his floater. He could not believe what was happening to him. No minder ever again.
No view screens or com-links crashing in on his peace. He had his floater again. His trip
down the road was the best thing he had ever done.
“Damn! I’m going to love
this place,” John said out loud.
The door opened and Smedley poked in
his head.
“I heard that, son,” he
smiled. “Watch your tongue.”