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The Coming of a New Age Ch. 01

By: amicus



I was different than most. I knew that and I knew it early on. But I was not alone; that knowledge came more slowly.

I have been writing to this journal since I was a boy and it was suggested that I keep a record of my learning and whatever thoughts that came into my young and untrained mind. It seemed such a senseless chore at the time but as the years passed, I came to enjoy the almost sinful pleasure of my single thoughts.

The decision was made among my many acquaintances that I should be the one to record a history of not just my thoughts, but of others also. We had no idea to whom we might be speaking our single thoughts and conclusions but it was agreed that it should be done.

There really is no beginning to this history as so much has been hidden and forbidden for so long. We shall never know all that has passed; those who might have remembered are long gone, the files and records destroyed and deleted. It is only in my lifetime that computers were permitted again and the World Wide Web that once existed is only now becoming accessible to some as it once was to all.

My lifetime. I looked back at what I had written and thought how to explain that to someone who might read this somewhere in the future, if at all. 

My home is in City Seven. I have never been told and there are no records that state the size and population of this city, nor any other; there are twelve such domed cities in North America and I learned that not so very long ago.

I am a male, somewhere in my mid-twenties I think; I share living space with three other males near my age as I have for as long as I can remember. We are all assigned different work shifts of six hours each with other schedules, there are seldom two of us in the quarters at any one time.

We are permitted contact with females about our age but on a very controlled basis, in a general meeting area on certain occasions. It is said that we are given chemicals with our meals to control any disruptive feelings or urges; but I cannot prove the truth of that.

It is difficult to confess this and write it, but I have been chosen and I have agreed to speak not only what I feel and think, but the thoughts of others too. All of us admit to having night dreams about the females that leave us with great guilt and remorse that we should dream such things and have such thoughts and feelings.

There. It is said and thus recorded. Each of us must read and acknowledge the truth and honesty of each portion of this I write, as I must read and acknowledge that which others write and share.

I must state for the record that my thoughts are incomplete as is my knowledge of the past and even the present life I live. What few things I have learned, from others by the computer, has come in bits and pieces and others, as I, try to build a consistent record of what we have learned.

None of us have ever been permitted to go outside the City, or even to make a tour inside the confines. I have read and seen in part, a huge curved dome far above that seems to completely enclose the buildings as far as I can see.

I have been trained to observe and repair the equipment that purifies and distributes water to a certain area of the City. It was thrilling and I felt a great sense of responsibility when I was given my first shift to watch and record the readings on several dials in my work station. But it soon became just a boring task to complete, day after day and my mind wandered to other thoughts.

Those who made the schedules seemed to understand, for in addition to the work space, my training continued and I was assigned another work space where I learned to repair one certain part of a piece of equipment that had shown wear or had failed in operation. The change between work and training and repairing made it much easier to continue day to day but still there was a vast emptiness inside me that I could not understand or fill.

My life and of those around me was not empty, just the opposite, every moment seemed to be planned from scheduled meals to exercise workouts, to various appointment with medical workers and social workers and those who just listened as I answered the questions listed on a page before me.

We went in assigned groups to concerts and plays and even poetry readings and occasionally to what was called an entertainment center or amusement park. We all liked the entertainment center with flashing lights and sounds and video games and moving pictures of all kinds of different things. It was perhaps the thing I enjoyed most of all that I was required to do.

It is difficult to speak of the passage of time for we were never told of years or months or even weeks; only days and assigned tasks that were repeated in a pattern that became apparent between sleep and work periods. There was never a sense of night and day or a changing of seasons. Within the City the lighting was always the same as was the temperature and the feel and scent of the air I breathed.

I meant to convey by that, that I am not sure how long ago it was that I was called to the Distribution Center to accept a delivery. This was not unusual, the training manuals and regular issue of new clothing was all received in that manner, so I was not surprised at the summons.

It wasn't an unusually large package, but there were two of them and it was a little awkward as I made my way back to my living quarters.

My own computer and monitor! I stood in disbelief as I opened the packages. I had never heard of anyone that had their own personal computer; I was sure it had been a mistake of some sort.

There were computers in the classrooms and in my work spaces but they were used to teach or to search for parts and procedures. Now, I had one to use as I wanted but I had no idea what to use it for.

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Part Two 

I felt guilt as I read the instructions and began to bring the computer up and explore the software that had been installed. This computer had much more than I even suspected from the other work instruments I had dealt with; programs I knew nothing about. 

There were perhaps a dozen of us, at one level or another who had grown to know each other over the years. All boys together, now young men who shared a small history of growing up together. The issue of trust had never arisen before as we had no secrets from each other, our lives were all about the same, an open book read and shared by all.

Now, with my computer, it was different. I held back the information from the others and felt shame that I could not be open and honest. I do not know who among my friends left the note in a text during a mid day meal; but there it was: 'Your first task is to transfer the contents of your journals to a computer file. When you have completed that, type the address at the end of this note on a search engine and follow instructions.'

I didn't even give a second thought about it being someone I knew who passed the note. Our whole lifestyle was separation from others. We walked always a certain distance from the person ahead and behind, and always on opposite sides of a corridor or hallway; we were not permitted to ever be close enough to touch another person other than an approved friend. But who...which one was it? What did it mean?

It meant that at least one other 'friend' knew I had a computer; perhaps had one also, but still...what did it all mean?

The living space I shared was sufficient without crowding had it not been for the box upon box of journals that had accumulated since I first began recording my thoughts and those of my friends. I was at first dismayed at the scope of work before me; to read and type and file the hundreds, thousands of pages I had filled.

Then it became a challenge which changed into a passion and as I read of my first attempts, the early years of my life; the things I recorded that seem to make little sense at all at the time, began to display a pattern of sorts over time that sometimes gelled into meaning and then became confused again.

I discovered something else as I gave every minute to the project. Before, if, for some reason, I had to change my schedule, even the hours at recreation, it meant forms in triplicate to explain the deviation. Now, however, with advance notice to a section supervisor, I could occasionally miss attending everything but work space and training sessions.

It was amazing and so simple as I began to discover the pattern within my journals. The time of day, guided by the twenty-four hour clock on the wall in the room, was recorded at the beginning and end of each entry. The entries were always at least a page, sometimes several, but each was marked within a time period; that of a 'day' of my life.

Certain foods and sweets were served on the same day, several days apart and the work and study periods divided themselves into regular patterns of seven days and finally into a longer period of time and I had a flash and read ahead and saw and learned that the longer period of time also repeated as if by magic.

Why was I not taught this? It became so much easier to remember and recall events of the past having the periods of time broken into manageable portions instead of existing as an unending path into the past. There was so much I did not understand or even begin to comprehend.

I taught myself to manipulate the keyboard without looking and I could almost double the rate of reading and placing the words into a computer file. I explored the files management procedures and learned to identify and separate similar words and phrases in different entries and catalog the information into data files that were always on call; what a marvelous instrument this is!

Now that I could keep track of the time, the days and weeks and months seemed to hurry by and in no time a year had passed, then three more months and finally the last journals, very short, of the past few days were finished and I sat blinking before the uncaring monitor screen.

I almost panicked as I searched for the note that had instructed me to create the files and the final notations that directed me to the next step.

I slowly and carefully typed in the combination of numbers and letters and punctuation marks, paused and breathlessly depressed the 'enter' key and listened as the computer whirred and pictures and symbols flashed. The entire process took only a minute or so and then: 'files transferred successfully', blinked repeatedly on the screen.

Then, a heart beat later the most amazing thing happened. A smaller window appeared in the middle of the monitor screen and a message appeared: 'Hello, are you there?'

I scooted my chair back and stood, staring at the machine. It was talking to me?

After a moment the window blinked and another message was added: 'Well, are you there or not? It sure took you long enough to finish that crummy file!'

I gasped and blinked and stared and then sat again and scooted up to the keyboard. 'I am here. Are you the machine? Why are you talking to me?'

A strange yellow smiling face appeared in the message window: 'Silly boy! I am not a machine, I am a person, a girl person at that. Would you like to hear my voice?'

It was too much for me to believe. Talking to another person, even to room-mates, except for terse questions was not tolerated; I had never held a conversation in private and very few even with others about except to exchange needed information.

I cautiously typed: 'I don't think I am allowed to talk with anyone...'

Immediately came the answer: 'Heh, heh, silly boy; things have changed and you are supposed to talk now, there is much you must learn, many questions you must ask.'

I typed 'okay', three times before I spelled it right and pressed 'enter'.

I could almost hear her giggle in the: 'tee hee...' she typed. 'Find the box that says speaker, headset and microphone if you want to hear my voice; I will be back in a minute or so...'

I had to rummage through the now confused mass of journals and boxes and into the depths of the single closet before I found the proper box and installed the equipment. She was back, teasing me for my slowness long before I plopped into the chair again and stared at the screen.

'I am all set up, now what?'

'Put the headphones on, place the microphone before your lips and move the cursor to the top of the window where it says 'voice communications.'

I mumbled as I followed her instructions when I suddenly heard a light feminine giggle. 'My name is Gayle, who are you?'

*********************************

Part Three...

'Room-mate!' I typed hurriedly as someone entered the shared living space, I couldn't bring myself to speak into the microphone, I pulled the head set off and put it aside.

"Pull your privacy curtain, we need to talk more."

'That is considered rude except for sleeping periods.'

She noted the silence and responded by typing again. 'You will begin to do more and more, 'rude' things. We must talk!'

My hands, indeed my whole body shook uncontrollably; I felt confusion, anxiety, nervousness and something close to panic, enough to make me think of the special medications I was told I could ask for if I felt such things. I never had before.

Gayle was insistent in a way I had never experienced before. 'Well!!!? Waiting a whole damned year for you to finish that mess of a journal and now you dawdle over niceties???'

My fingers wouldn't work, my mind wasn't functioning, I was perspiring and I never did. 'You...I...Gayle...I do not know how to, 'talk' to someone like this...I have never done so before...?'

The message box did not blink for long moments. I just sat and stared at it, my mind a jumble of thoughts.

'I am terribly sorry. I apologize. I am impatient and I know it; it is a serious flaw, I have been reminded before. Please forgive me?' The message box had said she was typing a message; it seemed to take a long time before it flashed on the screen.

I blinked and felt a little smile curl one edge of my mouth. 'I am sorry; I am so slow. This is so very new to me. Will we get into trouble for talking like this?'

This time she came right back. 'No, we will not, I promise you. Many thousands of us talk together, it is accepted now and I can not explain it, but it has been going on for a very long time. We are by no means the first, just the latest. I would like to find a name to call you. Do you have a preference?'

I had accepted 'Gayle' as she told me she was called, but I wondered. No one was assigned a name like that. We had a letter designation that included the quadrant we lived in, the job we were assigned, four numbers and then a letter at the end that had changed from 'A' to 'B' and was now, 'C', that ended my designation and identity. I had never thought of a 'name', such as Gayle, that would be mine.

'I have had a name for you in my mind almost from the first day I was assigned to read your journal...'

I blinked because I had just sent the file, something didn't make sense to me. 'But you just got it...I just sent it?'

'Now I am embarrassed, but I have to tell you this. I have seen every word you ever typed from the first time you turned the computer on. Sorry.'

I pulled back from the screen and leaned into the chair and stared at the screen, moved forward, read her words again and sat back again. For as long as I had been typing my journal she was reading...day to day? It did not want to fit into my mind. I never had a clue someone could read what I typed.

'I am so sorry. Daniel is the name I have chosen for you...what do you think?'

I could just shake my head and blink my eyes. Everything was so new to me; I did not know what to do or think or say to her.

'Daniel?' I had to type it twice.

'Do you like it? It is a strong name. It is how I see you.'

I spoke the unfamiliar word several times out loud and then smiled.

'I think I like it, ah, Gayle. How did you get the name of Gayle? I like the way it sounds when I say it.'

A small smiley face appeared. 'I picked it out myself. I like it too!'

I frowned. 'And you have been reading as I typed for the whole time? Why would you do that? I do not understand.'

'You are my assignment, Daniel. Aside from my other work and training, I have been instructed to try to reach you and get to know you.'

I shivered from top to bottom as I read. 'Why, Gayle, why? I don't understand.'

'Neither do I, really, Daniel. But when my computer arrived, after I got over the shock, I did the same thing you did. I shared all my thoughts into a file and someone was there. It scared me to death, I felt like you do right now, I didn't understand, I still don't, very much.'

'What is next, Gayle, what do we do now?'

'We learn, Daniel, we learn everything, you and I together. I wanted to go ahead and start learning but I was told to wait until your file was complete. I have been so anxious for you to finish.'

'Learn? Gayle? Learn what? I do not understand what you mean.'

'Neither do I, Daniel. That is why I am so eager to begin. I have a guideline of places on the computer that we are supposed to go and read and talk about and then, I don't know. It is a very long list and the instructions say it must be done in the order it is in. I wish I could tell you more, but I can't; I don't know any more. I also don't know why I was chosen or why you were. It is all such a mystery, but, I am so excited I want to jump up and down and get started right away!'

I smiled at her words. Jumping up and down in excitement? I never even thought of something like that. All I knew about girls was when they passed by in groups with the high pitched giggles and laughing that always seemed to accompany them, it all seemed so silly to me but with Gayle...it seemed adorable, I think that is a good word.

'I am sorry I just could not listen to your voice earlier or speak to you, it all seems so strange just to type and have someone type back to me. To actually talk and hear you, it just seems so wrong to me.'

'It was the same with me, Daniel. But I got so impatient after I learned someone was out there that I kept pestering them until they spoke to me. It was a man, an old man, I think. He was very patient with me. I almost had to learn to talk to someone from the beginning. I know it will be that way with you too, but I thought we could get to know each other easier if we actually spoke.'

'I feel so strange inside, Gayle, quivering in a way; but I would like to try if you will help me?'

'Daniel, it will have to wait. I have a work schedule in a few minutes but we have to make our own schedule when we can have free time to learn and get to know each other. But...I have to leave right now or I will be late. I will contact you again as soon as I can. Promise!'

Then she was gone and I was alone and felt alone in a way I had never felt before.