I woke gradually to the sound of rain falling at a decelerated rate onto the synthetic physical barrier above me. Stretching, I brushed my finger against the wall of the somnia capsule and the rain eased immediately, its function as a wake-up call fulfilled. With a series of melodious tinklings emanating from its speakers, Errol, my personal biosynth assistant floated into the room, broadcasting overnight news direct to my brain via light pulse. I swung out of my capsule, and stood. Errol removed a gown from my wardrobe and wrapped it around me with a maniple field whilst simultaneously ejecting morning sustenance from its dusky body. As I consumed my combination of proteins, vitamins and complex carbohydrates, the gown Errol had wrapped around me shivered, sloughing off dirt and dead skin cells using sonic vibrations. Its job complete, the gown was removed and I manually stepped into the day’s clothing.
Stepping out of my quarters and into the warmly lit corridor, I was gently instructed by light pulse to breathe deeply. A faint scent of what I was told was cinnamon and banana registered, and contentment blossomed within me. I presented a warm smile and nod of greeting to Landa, my proximal inhabitant who had exited her quarters at the same time. I acquiesced to the light pulse persuading me to verbally greet Landa.
“Hello”.
“Pleasant morning, Tomn” was her response. Had my system not been full of the neural relaxants and cognition suppressors currently mixing within the hall’s atmosphere, I may have detected a slight level of panic within her voice. The light pulse, flickering imperceptibly from nodes within the floor to ceiling screens of warm illumination, advised me to question what she was wearing on her face. Had she responded to the question, the answer would have been ‘glasses’. However, her reaction was unexpected and shocking, even in my chemically-induced relaxed state. She stopped immediately, and turned faster than I had ever seen a human move. Her muscles bunched and tensed, and it looked as though she were about to sprint away. Then she paused, turned again, lifted her arms to my shoulders and gripped them. I registered pain.
“They’re gone, Tomn. They’re gone. Everything has changed”.
And with that, she too was gone, sprinting down the corridor at a speed which baffled me completely. There was silence: even the light pulse was flicking a holding pattern of non-information directly to my neural synapses through my ocular senses. For the first time since…since forever, it was truly silent. I felt something stirring deep within, rising from the depths of my subconscious. My tactile senses prickled, and a wave of heat washed from my chest to my extremities. Then, a change in the atmosphere, and smell of coriander, cumin, and a hint of avocado filled the hall, and that shadow within me began to sink once more. The light pulse fired into my eyes with ferocious rapidity, and I’d forgotten why I’d even stopped. I turned and walked in warm comfort towards my activity station.
Alk strolled over to me as I sat down at my station and pushed my hands into the synthetic conductor gel. A screen lifted before me, and the light pulse strobed instructions in time with Alk’s gentle voice.
“Hello, Tomn”.
“Pleasant morning, Alk”.
“Are you ready to begin your daily activity?”
At that moment, the shadow within leapt and took control, snapping my neck to the right. Landa usually sat at the station there. It was empty.
“Where’s Landa?” I asked. As the shadow sunk once more into nothingness, I noticed Alk pause and tilt his head, his eyes locking more fully onto the light pulse.
“Who’s Landa?” Alk asked gently. The shadow again struggled to rise, but this time it was met with the fragrance of medium steak drizzled with fresh mushroom gravy. It immediately sank below, and I realised that I did not in fact know who Landa was. Alk spoke again. “Are you ready to begin your daily activity?”
“Yes, I am”, I replied.
“Today we’re doing something different. We’ve removed a few things from the equation, but your activity remains the same. Do you understand?”
“What did you remove?” I asked.
There was a slight pause. Part of me thought Alk perhaps did not want to broach a sensitive subject.
“We have removed G-6 and Intake 29”.
The shadow leapt again, this time detonating within me and sending terror arcing through my body. No G-6 or Intake 29. The very thought of life without them fuelled the panic I was experiencing. I tore my eyes from the light pulse and its soothing suggestions, and the feeling of hopelessness increased exponentially. No more G-6 or Intake 29. How would I possibly function without these vital ingredients of life? No G-6 meant a complete lack of entertainment during all waking hours, particularly those spent at daily activities. The demise of Intake 29 suggested a massive upset in social cohesion and leisure activities, not to mention a marked decrease in planning and other events. It meant far heavier reliance on the existing Intakes 30 and 31, and extreme expectations for the upcoming Intake 32. In sum, it was a complete game changer.
As these horrible thoughts hurtled around my consciousness, colliding and wheeling within the ever-expanding shadow, I barely heard Alk trying to persuade me:
“Tomn, you need to look at the screen. Look at the screen Tomn. Tomn, focus your eyes on the screen”.
But I would not. My head jerked from side to side and tears trickled and then streamed down my face as I faced the prospect of living life without G-6 and Intake 29. Landa, whoever she was, had been right. Everything had changed. With an inhuman shriek, I began to pull my hands from the synthetic conductor gel. Somewhere far away I heard Alk speak. An instant later the room filled with the buttery smell of hollandaise sauce, perfectly poached eggs, fried bacon and wilted spinach. Slowly, the shadow receded. Moments later it had all but disappeared, and my stomach rumbled. I sunk my hands back into the synthetic conductor gel and began my daily activities. But somewhere, deep within, hiding underneath the dark shadow that remained, was knowledge that I had experienced six months, six wonderful, life-changing months, with G-6 and Intake 29.
This post is dedicated purely to those living Feej-side. Friends and family in Australia, internet wanderers, and strangers reading this in Indonesia (oh wait…maybe you’re not a stranger. Karin?) will most probably not get much sense out of it, and may perhaps think I’ve flipped my lid. That’s unimportant (although yes, maybe I have). What is important is farewelling G-6 and Intake 29: moce mada George, Andrew, Connie, Nikki, Glen, and Grace. You’ll be missed.
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