Holo Grammy, Part I

Prologue

It was a breath of fresh air. The new Constitutional Convention was held and a new constitution ratified. The Fifth Constitution of the Federated States of the Pluto/Republic of America, spanning and including the geographical territory of what was once Canada and Mexico, reflected the technological and social changes that were unimaginable in the early 19^th Century. It was clearly needed and readily accepted.

CHAPTER I, Peter

“Hollo Grammy,” Peter said in his usual fashion. “I can’t wait to see you. Mom and Dad said it looks as if we’ll get the passes we need this solstice.”

He loved her. When she lived with them, she treated him with respect, never talking down t him and provided love. On top of that she was a font of knowledge. Now Grammy was in a place they put old retired people. The video’s always showed real people enjoying themselves. He wanted to see her. She was different than his parents or his brother Fred. They never answered his questions as to when they were going to visit. There were always some excuses. His father acted as if they were real. The letters were official looking with stamps and seals. No matter what they stated still he wanted to see her.

 “Oh, sweetie, yes that will so be nice, indeed,” she responded as her blue gray head nodded the affirmative as a large smile broke across her face.

She must need glasses, he thought. No one notices that she blinks a lot. Peter thought she looked like the Cheshire cat in those old videos Grammy gave him as a special present long ago. He wasn’t supposed to have these videos for some reason he never understood.

     He knew it was not safe to ask about things like that. He had learned that lesson. One beating was enough. He didn’t mention it. Owning a player and old discs was against some sort of law.  It was a law he never understood. What could be wrong with old videos and books? He had hidden the portable player in his closet. No one ever looked there. He only played it when his parents and brother, Fred were out of the house or deep asleep. And, he only played it in the “Safe Room”, the one designed to protect the family against poisons if their locale was attacked.

“It’s a war against bad people,” his dad would always shout when he asked any related question. “You have to be vigilant, always vigilant.” That’s what he was told over and over again.

“But against what?” he asked a few times.

“You’ll know it when you see it,” was the same response. Even at that young age, he realized that they didn’t have an answer. And, he knew better than to keep questioning. It wasn’t until years later, watching an old video late one night, of an even older book about a cave, he realized what IT was.

Fred stared right into Peter’s face, “Talking to GRAMMY again?” the voice of his older brother Fred was as sharp as a knife to his heart. Fred’s voice sent a chill through his blood. Fred then added for good measure, “You know she’s not real.” He was always mocking and bullying him. “It’s a video of her talking. They sit them down and they follow a script. Then they set it up to answer any questions with artificial intelligence. The letter from the government explained it. You are such a baby and a big dope.”

“She’s fine, I can tell it’s her and not a screen saver shot. I know those when I see them. Yes she is, yes she is.” Peter shouted holding back his tears. He didn’t dare look at his brother Fred. Fred was 15 and knew a lot and was the perfect boy. He was a member of all the right organizations. He played sports. He was in the band. He was in the political science class. He even got to meet a general and the president once. They said they had big plans for him.  Everyone said he was going places. Peter was the dreamer and an obvious disappointment to his family, and being so, was bait for teasing.

Peter asked, “What letter? I never saw a letter. Mom and dad never said anything about a letter.”

Fred ignored the question and taunted him all the more.  The truth of the matter was that no one but a few people were ever supposed to know that. So to cover his slip he continued, “You might as well believe in God, or what was it they called him, that fat guy you believed in for so long?”

“Santa Claus?” said Peter grabbing the bait, hook line and sinker, again.

“Yes Santa Claus, that’s it.” Fred yanked hard. “You’re such an idiot you know that. You’re a baby and an idiot. They should have let you die. There are no old folks. I heard it on the Hushweb,” said Fred said in loud mocking tones.

He repeated quieter this time, slowly and in mocking tone. “You’re an idiot, you know that don’t you? There are no old folks. I heard it on the Hushweb. They’re just past old workers, POWs. That’s what they are called and a burden on our society,” Fred sneered. He continued in even a lower volume, “Did you know that over half the planet’s population is retirement age? Do you? Only fractions have saved for themselves, and even less the resources to care for themselves. We are a planet of finite resources.  They are taking the food and water out of your mouth, out of our mouths! Think about it, Peeeter.” He said Peter with such a mocking tone. He finished with a verbal coup de grâce, “You’re talking to a computer!”

     “The Hushweb is for subversives and perverts. And Grammy is not just a past old worker. She’s our family.” Peter said it emphatically and quietly. He wouldn’t him let his brother see the tears.  “And No One, no one at all was supposed to talk about the HUSHWEB. Peter whispered this last part with clenched teeth.

Fred realized he had gone too far and said in an equally quiet voice, “The Hushweb is where the truth comes out. And until you realize that you’re just a pawn, like mom and dad and all the rest of you.”

     Fred knew more than he was telling. He couldn’t say any more. The information was supposed to be secret, only for the elite and the Guard Scouts who were the secret young elite in training. Peter knew about Fred’s training. His parents did not. He overheard a piece of the conversation Fred had with some girl Fred was trying to impress. It was enough to let him know his brother was special but not in the manner his parents had hoped for.

Peter begged the question, “but,” and hesitated, “you seem to be part of all that. You met the president. Didn’t the general say they had plans for you? Aren’t you in the advanced placement classes for college and military?” Peter was a bit confused by his brother’s comments. It wasn’t the first time he said something like this. Yet Fred seemed to go along with the crowd. He never said or did anything that would indicate he believed any different than all the others he grouped with.

Peter understood peer group pressure and surmised that Fred went along with the crowd but believed something else entirely.