CHAPTER II, A Back Story
Throughout the planet crime levels and the fear it inspired, had
increased to the point that the punishment for almost any infraction dictated
extended prison sentences. In this new world order, prisoners had to work for
their keep. So, in essence, they became slaves of the states in which they were
housed. This new economic paradigm was readily accepted as a sop by the
frightened populations. The unintended
consequence of these new laws was a boon to the world economy.
However, families wanted to keep in touch with their loved ones even if
they were incarcerated. But many of the millions of convicts housed were
terminated due in part to physical infirmities or for political reasons.
The officials had no way of addressing these extra-legal actions and
were straining to rationalize their activities. Bad press like this, especially
within a republic, was not something any political entity desired. There were
ways the populations could discover this and raise a protest. It was not
something that could be completely hushed up.
A group of engineers, scientists and psychologists working within the
penal system proposed to physically, and psychologically map each individual
incarcerated. The data would be fed into the main computer. This advanced
system allowed the state to project a holographic image of the prisoner to who
ever wanted to speak to that person. The caller would never know the person
they were talking to was only a computer generated representation of that
person. Housing data was cheaper and easier than warehousing people.
The program was introduced and was total a success. The prisoners were always accused of additional crimes
against the state. The punishment meted out forced them to remain incarcerated
for the rest of their natural lives. There was no recidivism. It was a win-win
situation. The states made up the costs of incarcerations and then some. The
application of this new technology seemed endless.
CHAPTER III, One day at Home
Fred walked down
to the kitchen to get some snacks. He saw his parents in front of the screen. A
friendly voice, an actor of world wide renown was on the screen, smiling,
speaking in soothing tones. “Yes this is a great idea. All of you,” he spread
his arms wide in an embracing fashion just like the televangelists his parents
adored. He continued his commercial. “We all know caring for elderly parents
can create mental anguish. And, the financial burdens can crush your children’s
hopes of a good college, not to mention your own financial well being. To help
us all in this time of decreasing resources, The World Court and our dear
country has authorized the development of retirement cities throughout the
planet for our Senior Loved Ones.
All families will
still be together linked by direct communication to your Senior Loved Ones. And
those that have the resources can always visit their Senior Loved Ones over and
above the mandated visits. Yes, and please believe me, this will solve our
planets ills. The concentration of
people with similar requirements, our Senior Loved Ones, will allow us to
concentrate the needed resources in specific locations instead of all of them
spread out all over the planet, driving needlessly here and there for care,
food, and entertainment.
The actor
continued, “Look at my own mother.” He
pointed to an older woman fashionable dressed behind him. “She volunteered to be one of the
first in Palm Springs .”
The screen slewed to other very pretty senior citizens waving to the camera
surrounded by friends and contemporaries.
Then it showed a shot of the actor with her sitting poolside in an
animated discussion that couldn’t be heard. Both were always smiling. It was
heart warming.
Fred looked at
them with pity and disgust.
++++
“Hollo Grammy,”
Peter said in his usual enthusiastic manner. “Hello Peter,” she said back.
Peter thought the voice was a bit strange but then adults were always acting
strange. He let it pass. “I’ve got some news for you. Fred is joining the
service. He said he wanted to do his share for the world.”
Grammy said nothing.
“Grammy did you
hear me? Is the connection bad? Peter asked a bit worried. Maybe something was
wrong. Maybe she was sick. Grammy turned to face him and was blinking again. He
had never seen her blink like that before.
“It’s just my eyes
dear, they are itchy and I think I caught a code, or have allergies.”
“Grammy,” he
laughed, “it’s a cold, not code, and how can you have allergies there? It’s supposed to be perfect out there.”
“Yes, perfect,”
she said. He noticed she had stopped blinking and started again.
“Are you going to
call a doctor?” He asked in all seriousness.
“No dearie, I’ll
be fine, just fine. Have you read that old Boy Scout book I left for you? Do
you remember it? You might find it interesting. I have to get rid of this code.”
“Cold Grammy, it’s
a cold. Go to the infirmary, please.” Peter was chuckling at Grammy’s mistakes.
She made them every now and then. It made him wonder, maybe she was in a better
place.
Peter was about to
say that his Dad always says that, “when a woman said everything was Just Fine,
you can bet, it sure as hell isn’t.” Peter didn’t say anything and then said,
“Grammy, Grammy,…”
She said, “Dearie,
I have to go. Call again soon. Good-bye,” and abruptly hung up.
Something is not
right, he thought. She never acts like that. Is it old age that Mom and Dad
talk about? He was just about to go to
his parents when an idea crossed his mind. He went into the library and logged
on to the system.
That evening at
dinner he told his parents he had spoken to Grammy. “She was just fine,” was
all he said. His Dad looked at him a bit strangely but said nothing. No one asked any questions about his
conversation. He noticed that they were both very quiet.
When he was sure
everyone else was asleep Peter popped some of the old videos into the machine
and watched and listened. This one was an audio/visual book by a priest, Abbot
Hoffman. He was funny. He had to have been a comedian. What he proposed might
have been acceptable so long ago. Today He would have been considered a
terrorist. Grammy had a strange sense of humor sometimes.
He replayed his
conversation with Grammy. He had saved all of them since she moved out. He felt
closer to her than his own parents. She was the one who taught him to read,
mathematics and science. He just never told anyone. She had said it was none of
their business, and you’d be better off not mentioning it.
The next day he
called Grammy again. She picked up right away. “Hello Peter, how are you?”
“Just fine,” he
said as looked into the screen. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Oh yes, why
wouldn’t I be? How silly of you.”
“I was just
wondering,” He said looking intently. “No reason. I have to go to school. I’ll
call you soon Grammy.”
“Yes Peter, you do
that. Good-bye.”
Peter played that
day’s conversation again and again. He had every word and gesture memorized and
could mimic it in total. That’s probably why he was left to his own. He had an
incredible memory. His recall was perfect. The school said he had a job with
the government in a variety of anti terrorist departments. The government could
use his skills. Peter wondered what they were talking about. He retrieved all
the books Grammy had recommended and read and reread them.
