AX50 Page 2
Juan Gonzalez anticipated my arrival and met me between hibiscus hedges that lined his front path. He was diminutive! I know I’m large, even for an American woman, but he can’t have been more than five foot tall! He had greying hair, but his dark brown eyes sparkled like a child’s. His soft, caring face lit up whenever he smiled or laughed, which he was prone to do. He took me to his back lawn where we talked under the shade of a tree that was covered in bright yellow flowers. The whole area was infused with scent from gardenia bushes. Brightly coloured birds sparred over fruit and grains that had been left out for them. Two malachite-green humming birds squabbled over an ornamental banana flower. This was my idea of heaven.
Fortunately, he’d done his research and knew about the ‘animal sanctuary’ that I’d started as a child. He also knew that Xantec had already donated generously to the National Parks of Costa Rica. We talked about my plans and I promised that if we were given permission to mine europa, we would provide his country with free electricity. Within five years, we would also provide free electric vehicles for his people on a car-scrappage basis.
“I’ve no idea how you could possibly achieve this without damaging the forest, but if your technical team can reassure me, then I hope we can come to some arrangement.”
We spent another hour talking about his country’s need for better hospitals, education and insulated houses in the mountains. I said that in time we would like to help him achieve these dreams.
I flew home hoping that I’d finally found a place where I could fulfil the vows that I’d made after Dan’s death.
Zilgrim Mcmanus
writing from 2049 to 2058
Fourteen years later
My college campus was a remarkable creation of teak and glass built over a bay on an island off the west coast of Costa Rica. In the restaurants and social areas, we could watch the colourful reef fish swimming just beneath the glass floor.
Everyone studied psychology, history and the art of government. The brainy students chose between science, engineering, robotics, artificial intelligence, law and medicine. I studied sport science and combat, which allowed me many hours each week for fitness training. There were about 20,000 students aged between eighteen and twenty. When the sea was calm, I would ride my wave-skimmer home. My parents (Ethan and Avril) had built a sensational home cut into towering red cliffs. The large living area has a ten-metre plate glass window cantilevered fifty metres above the ocean, providing magnificent views of the sun setting over the Pacific. My parents’ lives hadn’t always been easy. My twin sister, Elli, had been brain damaged at birth. Even though we were twins, Mom had demanded a natural birth. After I was delivered, Elli became stuck. It must have been very hard for my parents, not only having to bring up twins, but one of them was late to be potty trained and indeed was slow at everything. Mom had given up work to look after us. We moved to Costa Rica when we were six, and my parents had a small house and two women from the local village to do housework and look after us. It was then that Max Spitzen (our leader) decreed that all Xantec employees should have large families. Eight other siblings came along in quick succession and our new home was built.
When I was seventeen, Mom and Dad allowed me to move into my own apartment and gave me my own droid for company. I remember my excitement as she arrived. She was completely hidden by holographic wrapping. My hand trembled as I reached for the button to reveal her. Instantly, she appeared. I couldn’t believe my luck. Standing before me was the likeness of a beautiful twenty-year-old Spanish girl with deep penetrating brown eyes. She wore a jasmine necklace which gave off a beautiful perfume. I called her Jasmine, which I soon shortened to Jas. She greeted me rather formally, saying, “I hope to be of service to you, sir.” She turned out to be a fantastic cook and has always kept my home spotless, ready for friends. She now knows me far better than my parents. At night, she used to lie on the floor at the end of my bed, rather like a well-loved dog. If I wanted a cuddle or to have sex, she would join me in bed. She has a body temperature of 36.5 degrees and is soft and cuddly. I preferred sex with my fellow students or with one of the Costa Rican girls as they’d chosen me, whereas Jas had no option.
The person who I really fancied was Petra, Max’s daughter. She is nothing like her mother, who is cold and intimidating. Max has been a close friend of my parents ever since they all went to Stanford together. I gather from Mom that Dad was infatuated with her when they first went to college, but he gave up when he realised she was in a different social league. Max had always been a natural leader. In those days, she was wild and held the most outrageous hedonistic parties. They say this all changed when she met the love of her life at Oxford. He died before Petra was born. When they all met up again at MIT, she was a serious, hardworking single mother. Petra is stunning with fine sun-bleached blonde hair and sparkling blue irises flecked with tiny white streaks. She’s shorter than me and as slim as a sylph; such a contrast to her tall, muscular mother. Petra was in the year ahead of me at college even though we’re roughly the same age. She’s brilliant but very shy. She was allowed no privacy. Her mother insisted that a bodyguard was with her at all times, even waiting outside when she needed the bathroom. Occasionally, we used to meet in the canteen for lunch. I’d an inkling that she might be keen on me, but no one was allowed to date her, so it made no difference. I hadn’t seen her during my last year at college, as she’d already left to start work.
Then, two weeks before college finished for the year, Petra turned up under the pretext of visiting her old tutors. We met in the canteen. As we were leaving, she passed me a book. I thought this odd as she knew I wasn’t an avid reader. I took it home that night wondering if she was trying to turn me into an intellectual. (Little chance of that, I thought.) I opened it and noticed that the cover didn’t sit flat. Inside, I found a letter.
Dear Zig, (that’s what everyone calls me)
I hope you won’t mind me writing and forgive me if I’ve read you wrong. If you’re interested in me (I hope you are), I’ve discovered somewhere we could meet. I think you know our private beach. (Actually, I know you do because I’ve seen you watching me from your wave-skimmer beyond the boundary patrolled by my guards.) Mom has created a special room for me inside a cave. I use this for changing or reading in the heat of the day. The great thing is that my bodyguards never enter it as they believe that I can be safely guarded from the beach. I thought that was the only way in, until yesterday when I explored the back of the cave and found a very narrow gap that I could squeeze through. No one of an ordinary build could possibly get through there, and certainly my guards wouldn’t stand a chance. The narrow dark channel steadily opened up and then I noticed a glimmer of light and smelt fresh air. A little further on, I came to an area full of vines and small trees where a sinkhole must have caused the roof of the cave to collapse. It is about fifteen metres deep. I could see a large wild fig tree growing near the edge. I guess it must be about fifty metres from the shore. If you would like to meet me, I’ll be there at midday this Saturday. Of course, you’ll need a rope and climbing gear, but I’m sure the drop would not be a barrier for you. Hope to see you. Petra.
I couldn’t believe my luck, but I was worried that her fiercely protective mother might somehow discover our tryst. I was filled with excitement and fear in equal measure. However, I would risk anything to spend some time with Petra. I was fascinated to discover what lay behind her mysterious veneer.
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Saturday was even hotter and stickier than usual. The rope and caving equipment was heavier than I’d expected. I had to fight my way through the jungle for the last half-mile. I arrived near the place that she’d described bathed in perspiration. I couldn’t see the sink hole anywhere. It was dark under the dense high canopy. Eventually, I spotted a massive strangler fig tree that was full of chattering birds and spider monkeys enjoying the ripe figs. I still couldn’t see the sinkhole. I parted some of the undergrowt
h and nearly fell to my death as it was right beneath me. A minute later, I had tied the rope to the tree, removed my sweaty shirt and was abseiling through the hole. Fortunately, my Petzl stop was in good working order as I was soon abseiling down the walls, thankful for the cooler air. I couldn’t see the bottom but was confident that Petra’s estimate would be correct. I felt some ferns brush my legs and almost immediately was standing on solid rock.
“I knew I could rely on you,” came a soft voice from the dark.
My eyes slowly adjusted and I saw Petra approaching, diffident at first, but as she saw my smile she opened her arms to embrace me. I felt overwhelmed with delight as her cool arms clasped me tight.
“We don’t have long as Mom said she’ll meet me for a swim in an hour. She’s the only person allowed into my cave. I hope you don’t mind us staying here as you couldn’t possibly get through the gap.”
So our first ‘date’ was enjoyed in a gloomy, dark sinkhole standing on slippery, wet rocks! I was ecstatic as she told me how she had dreamt of this moment from the day that I first started college twenty months ago. We kissed and I could feel every movement as she explored my body. My initial excitement waned when she said her mother wouldn’t allow her to have boyfriends.
“Mom says that my research is too important for boys to get in the way. I do love her, but sometimes I wish she would relax and let me have fun!”
Petra promised to come to my twentieth birthday party which was arranged for the week after the end of term. She warned me that we would have to be incredibly circumspect as she would be chaperoned by her bodyguard, who would report everything back to her mother.
“When you have your Xan-link implanted they will also operate on you and insert a chip*2 around your right femoral artery. This is detectable by satellite unless the individual is deep within a thick-walled building or a cave. You need to know this because Mom will be able to track your movements if she suspects that we’re trying to meet.”
My hour was nearly up and, feeling demoralised, I started to prusik (a climbing technique I had learnt at college) back up my dangling rope.
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Sometimes, I envied my twin sister Elli as she didn’t have to attend boring college lectures, but most of the time, I felt sorry for her as her life was pretty dull. To celebrate our joint twentieth birthday, Elli had a small family gathering in the afternoon, while I’d been allowed to invite all my friends to our barn at the edge of the jungle where Crestor (my favourite band) played.
My parents had been wonderful. They’d provided loads of spicy food, all manner of drinks and had gone to stay with friends for the night, taking Elli and all our younger siblings with them. The noise was overwhelming as our bodies pulsed to the beat of the colossal speakers. I kept looking out for Petra but feared that her mother had intervened. She arrived about an hour late, sandwiched between two massive bodyguards. I offered them all drinks, vainly hoping her minders might let their hair down. Petra sipped her wine as the sober guards watched our every move. We danced, but Petra kept her distance. Anyone watching wouldn’t have thought we were special friends, but she whispered such words of love that I was left in no doubt about her feelings. I hated her mother for being so unreasonable.
She whispered, “I must leave you now and dance with others to confuse the bogeymen.”
I rejoined my friends and tried to avoid looking at Petra. I spotted her dancing closely with another man and felt intensely jealous, wondering if I was being duped.
Soon after this, she departed. I drank far too much trying to blot out my frustration and suspicion. I’m ashamed to admit that after dancing and flirting with a girl called Maria, we must have ended up back in my rooms as I woke with her thanking me as she got out of bed to return to her village.
Two days later, my Xan-link was to be implanted. Mom said, “It’s nothing to worry about, Zig. You’ll have a small operation where a radio transmitter is positioned under your brain connecting it to Xanasa’s brain. After about a week, the bruising around your eyes will settle. In due course, you’ll be left with a minute scar between your nose and left eye. Only Commissioners (the adult offspring of Xantec employees) have one. It gives you instant access to Xanasa’s brain and stored information. It will also enable you to calculate and be fluent in any language.”
I was beginning to get the feeling that this ‘perfect’ world that I lived in was being extensively monitored in secret ways. I didn’t like the sound of being permanently linked to Xanasa. Would she be reading my thoughts and dreams and passing this information on to Max, who would therefore uncover my desire for Petra? Could Xanasa control me? I knew the surgeon who was going to perform the op as he’d coached the water polo team when I’d been captain. We’d become good friends. I persuaded him to fit a switch in my Xan-link so that I could turn it off. He agreed but said I must NEVER tell anyone, and warned me that Xanasa would know instantly if I did turn it off. To disconnect my Xan-link, I would need to place my X-talk*3 on my forehead for one second and then remove it for five seconds and repeat this twice.
I knew my link would only become active once the bruising around the nerve junctions had settled down. During this week, I was required to choose between five different careers:
1.Administrators. These were involved in strategy and management. Twelve were chosen by Max to form the Board that effectively governed the Central and South American Region (CASAR). My dad was a member of the Board.
2.Doctors/Surgeons and Judges.
3.Engineers/Architects.
4.Researchers at Costa Rica Central (CRC). Petra and my mother worked in this division.
5.Reactors. They worked with armed droids and cloned soldiers sorting out any disturbance or serious crimes in the whole of CASAR.
There was never any doubt in my mind that I would be a ‘Reactor’ as I wasn’t clever enough for the other roles. I would only start work once my link was switched on.
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Dad invited me up to his hideaway which he’d built high in the jungle canopy. He used it to escape from his job and high-tech life. He’d filled it with retro gear – binoculars, telescopes and cameras for observing birds and other creatures. I suspected that the comfy chair was used for sleeping much of the time when he escaped there.
He said that in order to grasp the importance of my job as a reactor, he would give me a brief résumé of the history of the organisation. “CASAR was once a collection of relatively poor countries riddled with corruption, drugs and violence. The USA had been the destination for much of their drug trade. Fourteen years ago, Max and her company had been invited into Costa Rica by the President, and within six years, they’d transformed the country into a thriving success story. This was due mainly to our fusion reactor providing free electricity. We also devised a toothed tunnelling device that used industrial diamond teeth which were replaced automatically as they wore down (called shark-moles). These laid steel tunnels as they went. As our engineers extracted europa from inside the mountain, the slag was washed down these tunnels and created a new island in the Caribbean. On this, we built factories that produced all the electric vehicles, robots and droids. These were provided free to the people of Costa Rica and were also sold internationally. Shark-moles were also used to create a nationwide hyperloop*4 system which linked all the major cities of Costa Rica. Modern homes, schools and hospitals were built. The working week was cut to thirty hours, allowing the Costa Ricans time to attend to their gardens, fiestas and other hobbies. The smog of San José disappeared, wildlife thrived and tourism boomed. Once the neighbouring countries saw how successful Costa Rica had become, they invited us to assist them. This is how we’ve gradually become responsible for the whole of CASAR.”
He concluded, “I don’t mind if you forget this history, but there is one thing I do want you to remember. When you go into action, by all means take droid soldiers with you as decoys, but never go i
nto danger without at least two clone soldiers.”
I wanted to make the most of my last carefree days. My best friend, Charco, (who was a month younger than me) was free, and so we flew in our drones to the Cocos Island where my dad has a live-aboard diving vessel. My droid, Jas, and his droid, Cooli, came along to look after us. The dive and sailing droids always kept everything in perfect condition in case Dad arrived unannounced. We enjoyed swimming with hammerheads and then ventured deep into a volcanic tunnel which led to a secret vibrant coral reef in a shallow cove. It was a brilliant holiday but at night I couldn’t sleep as I felt guilty about waking up with Maria after my party, and I yearned to see Petra again.
I’ll never forget the moment my ‘link’ was switched on. Suddenly I only had to think about something I wanted to know and the answer appeared as if by magic. Even mathematics became simple.
As Dad and I climbed into a drone to take us to the hyperloop station, I asked, “What was the point of college when our Xan-links are so brilliant?”
“It’s a fair point, but knowing and understanding an answer are two different things.”
We arrived at Costa Rica Central (CRC), and Dad introduced me to my boss Sinto (who had the rather grand title of ‘Ambassador to Chile’). He showed me round. First, he showed me the Great Hall. This gigantic hall was able to accommodate 250,000 people. It was rarely used. At present, there were only 140,000 Commissioners, but this number was growing steadily by 5,000 each year.
He led me deep into the mountain down a corridor cut into solid rock. We had to prove our identities using iris scanning, fingerprint and facial recognition to gain access through a stout steel door. Finally, an enormous heavy lead door opened hydraulically for us, and we were admitted into Xanasa’s presence. I felt my skin prickle as I peered through bulletproof glass to watch blood being pumped through large transparent pipes that fed into her enormous stainless steel enclosure. Droids were monitoring the sterile liquid glucose containers that connected to these tubes. I was stunned to think that this living brain was the main reason that half a billion people lived in peace and comfort.