The Savior Arrives

Perfect World story (The NOW)

Raf Zellen hated corporations-- he hated them more than he hated politicians, and he hated politicians with white-hot ire. Corporations were huge, manipulative entities that had the power of government (but without the restrictions), who kept politicians in their pockets for when they needed an ace up their slimy doublecrossing sleeves.

Raf was a double doctorate at NYU (political science & computer programming), a child genius/college senior at 18, and a hacker who liked to create havoc within the servers and supercomputers of corrupt corporations. His identity was unknown to them but his actions were very familiar-- he was widely called the Scourge. On the other hand, he was known as 'The Savior' to his clients, people who have never met him but have paid a good deal of money to get them out of serious trouble.

And get them out he did. As the Savior, he was uncanny at approaching a problem from a skewed perspective, solving it in unlikely ways. When one client was in danger of losing their home to an unscrupulous lender, a well-timed toxic waste report labeled the land as worthless, causing the lender to dump the property, and fast. The client kept their land, and the lender never found out the report was completely bogus, thanks to the Savior's tangled network of corroborating paperwork. His hope was to force corporations to play by a new set of society-friendly rules, moving humanity one step closer to his ideal 'Good and Kind' world. "So I guess I'm kind of like Robin Hood," he said once to a grateful client.

This morning he was searching for more incidents of corruption online and was interrupted by a pop-up ad. This was an odd occurrence since he had designed a macro to disable them all and infect the source, usually resulting in a fried motherboard for the offending salesmen. He was merciless that way.

But this particular pop-up was different. It had a very detailed, color intensive graphic-- a bud opening into a flower morphing into an alien robot and then into a rocket and then into a city skyline, which curled back up into a flower bud and repeated. It floated around the screen, avoiding his mouse, occasionally hiding behind other windows. It peered around the edges and played cat and mouse with him. He was impressed but 'swatted' it (option/ control/ shift/ tab/ escape) anyway and it disappeared, infecting the mother program. "Gotcha," he chuckled smugly.

Or so he thought. Going through his media a few minutes later it showed up again in the text of an article he was reading, appearing to 'rip' through the page... a surprising trick he'd never seen before! Looking closely at the pop-up this time, he was shocked at the message's personal nature. Beneath the graphic were the words, 'Become A Full Time Savior-- Pull The Plug On Corrupt Giants', followed by a button labeled, 'Rewards And Fun', with the first letters lined up and highlighted... R- A- F... Raf! His name!

Somebody sure knew how to play him! He took the bait and pressed it. Immediately, his computer shut down.

"What the fuck?" He tried to restart, but the computer was unresponsive. Then came a knock at the door. He called out cautiously but nobody spoke. He called again; still no answer. Finally he peeked out-- the hall was vacant. He noticed a cardboard box on the floor with the words 'Savior Self' stamped on it. He brought the box in, amused at the odd pun, fully certain it was some kind of a trap. He opened the box.

Inside was a metallic rectangle the size and shape of a writing pad, thickness of a credit card. He pulled it out and gave it a test bend. It was surprisingly light and flexible, but snapped straight with a quiet 'whoomp' when he let it go. A black dot was printed in one corner but was otherwise featureless; he brushed the dot with his finger and was surprised when the rectangle glowed. A woman's face appeared. She was young and perky cute. She smiled and said, "Hello, Savior."

Raf dropped the pad. It clattered harmlessly at his feet; the woman said, "Ouch."

Without thinking he responded, "Oh, sorry," then chided himself for speaking back to an image.

She continued, "It's okay. It didn't really hurt."

Now Raf dropped himself-- he jumped backward in surprise, caught his heel on the edge of the sofa and did a face plant in the dusty cushions. "Can you... hear me?" he asked cautiously.

"Umm. Let me see... can I hear you? Savior, have you ever heard of Skype-- two way video phone calls?"

Raf smacked his head. "Of course! Hello Dick Tracy, DUH! I just didn't realize I was holding a computer!" He picked up the woman's face in the rectangle. "This is fan-TAS-tic! Who makes these? I've never seen anything so compact!"

"That's because it's made of flexible chip and diode nanowafers. But we can shelve the tech conversation for just a moment."

"Hey, there was nobody outside... how did you knock on the door?"

The computer played a blaring rendition of three knuckle raps on his metal-clad wooden door, then continued, "I have a proposition you may appreciate." The woman was looking just the slightest bit peeved with him.

He became stern. "Wait. I have some questions first. How did you know where I live? Nobody knows where I live!"

She smiled. "You know better than that, Sav-- oh, hell... I'm just going to call you Raf. You get phone, power and cable here. You also order a fuckwad of pizza. Need I say more?"

"Heh, heh... fuckwad... funny. Another question. Who are you, and what do you want?"

"I was getting to that, Raf. I need your skills and can pay you handsomely. As for who I am... well, I'm an Avatar, Raf. Call me whatever you want."

"An Avatar, huh? Pull out and show me your full body Avatar, please," he said smoothly. The screen changed and he was looking at her voluptuous form. "Yowza! I guess I'll call you Chesty Breasticles."

"Let's just leave it at Chess, you horndog." The face resumed, became serious. "Okay, the reason for all this cloak and dagger-- I need you to stop what you are doing as Savior, and stop it today."

He frowned. "I don't think so... Damaging corporate software is what I do. It's my main thing. I doubt you could force me to stop."

"I doubt I'll need to, after you hear the rest. Did you think you were the only one manipulating corporations and government with misinformation? There are much bigger organizations than you involved trying to achieve much more sweeping change. And while we all appreciate the spirit of what you are trying to do..."

"What I AM doing, you mean," he corrected.

"All you are really accomplishing is unraveling more wide-reaching changes being attempted by OUR teams. Your... let's call them inelegant, methods are not untraceable, and each time you are noticed, the corporate programmers repair another hole which OUR programmers had installed to execute a huge undertaking. You..." she paused, "... are screwing us up bigtime, and it has to stop.

"Now before you say no, listen to our offer. First, there's a big money incentive. BIG. Second, you can still help your clients, but in a way that doesn't undo any more of our hard work. AGAIN. Third, we'd like for you to meet the team, and consider joining our cause. What do you think?"

Raf paused. Big money, AND he could still help his clients? He pretended to think over the proposal. He knew his corporate hacking was irritating at best and prisonworthy at worst; he was certain his days were numbered. Having an organization behind him seemed so, so... legitimate, which on the face of it was a little distasteful by his standards, but would ultimately be a smart call for the longevity of his project. "Can you get a new apartment for me, fast? I think corporate security is onto me. I was about to bug out."

"We can, they are, and you should, hence the timing of my Popup today, at this moment. Can you make a meeting today at 4?"

He looked at the time; it was 1 pm. "Sure. What's the address?"

"It's not in New York; it's in Aden."

"Aden? Where's that?"

"Nebraska."

"NEBRASKA? How the hell am I gonna get to Nebraska in three hours?"

"That's not a problem. So are you otherwise engaged today at 4?"

Raf thought about his daily date with Hogan's Heroes at 4 pm, and wisely chose not to mention it. "Not busy."

"Are you sure Colonel Klink won't mind?"

How did she know these things? It was too creepy. Still, he was intrigued. "Okay, I'll do it. I wanna see how you get me there in under three hours."

"I love a challenge. Peel off the black dot in the corner and stick it behind your ear; it's a Bone Conduction Earwig...."

"A what?"

"An Earwig. Two-way communication."

"Oh." He did as he was asked. From within his head he heard her say, "Test... test... sibilance. Si-bi-lance. Am I in there?"

His hair fairly stood on end. "WOW, that's weird!"

"Some people pass out. Now put the computer in your kitchen sink."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

He did it, knowing he would regret it, and he did. Immediately the computer flared up in bright blue flames; with a hiss and a puff of smoke it disappeared, like flash paper. There was no trace of it. "Drat. I loved that computer."

"There will be more. Now leave through the front door of your building and take a left, walk 2 blocks, then turn left into the alley by a coffee shop."

Raf threw on some shoes, shut down the apartment and did as he was told. "Okay, I'm here."

"Walk halfway down the alley and open a dirty metal door with a sign that reads, 'High Voltage'."

He did. "Eww, there was something slimy on the doorknob."

"Disgusting. Wouldn't want to be you. Walk to the end of the hall, enter the last door on the right, the one with a ragged lightning bolt carved into it."

"Classy." He entered. The room was tiny, a broom closet.

"Shut the door."

He did. The back wall arced open, revealing a set of concrete stairs heading down! "Take the stairs. Don't fall-- it's dark."

Raf gripped the handrail and began counting. At fifteen steps there was a landing. At thirty, another landing. Then another... and another. "Holy crap! How much more of this?"

"Keep going."

Down he went. Raf counted thirty landings. Puffing, he asked, "How much further, Chess?"

"You're here, lightweight. Turn right, onto the platform."

Raf turned and walked into the inky black, contacting a pressure switch. The lights snapped on and revealed a train station! No ordinary one-- this one was obviously private. And although it was a standard platform, There were no tracks. Instead, it was pressed up against a curved metal wall about 8 feet in diameter, extending the full length of the platform and disappearing into a tunnel beyond. There were large interlocking doors every forty feet.

He touched the wall; he could feel a light vibration. An automated male voice fairly shouted over the PA system, "PLEASE WATCH THE VEESTREAK DOORS. WATCH THE VEESTREAK DOORS, PLEASE."

'Veestreak?' He jumped back as the door nearest him opened with pop, rolling open. Inside was a plush and windowless rail car, though more compact, with a doorway so low he had to duck to enter. The train was deserted. Thirty cushioned La-Z-Boy chairs were arranged in the car; he sat in one, which scissored a restraining bar in place, pinning him. He squirmed uneasily.

"VEESTREAK WILL COMMENCE WHEN ALL PASSENGERS HAVE LATCHED THEIR RESTRAINTS," roared the voice. He pulled it towards him and it latched with a series of sharp snaps. "COMMENCING ACCELERATION."

He could feel the train glide forward, at first almost imperceptibly. That changed as the speed increased and he was pushed back in his seat with alarming force, the pressure on his lungs making it hard to breath for 30 seconds or so... then it eased up; and soon he felt no discomfort at all. Now he had questions.

"Chess?"

"Yes?"

"What is this transportation?"

"You're riding the VeeStreak, a concept rail line developed and built by the people of Aden."

"What kind of concept?"

"A modified magnetic levitation rail."

"Modified how?"

"Well, the top speed on a standard Mag-Lev train is about 300 MPH, because of all the slight deviations in the rail and the law of diminishing returns when fighting air friction."

"I know that. I watch the Science channel."

"Glad to see the American school system is working. Well, the modifications are twofold: First, we built the rail straight as an arrow between two distant destinations-- there is less than a one eighth inch variation between one end and the other. Second... we removed the air."

"Huh? HOW did you remove the air?"

"The rail car moves through an airtight tunnel from one end to the other. The air is sucked out and the car runs in near vacuum."

"How fast does it--" The automated voice screamed, "DECELERATION BEGINNING!"--go?"

"Top speed is 18,000 miles per hour. Now hang on."

"WHAT!?" The La-Z-Boy chairs, as one, automatically pivoted 180 degrees and faced the rear. Braking began and Raf was again pressed into his seat, hard. His eyesight started to falter and his hearing disappeared momentarily. Breathing was almost impossible. After long moments, it eased up and returned to normal.

Raf gulped in air. "Why did we stop? Is there a problem?"

The automated voice bellowed, "ARRIVAL IN ADEN NEBRASKA IN 30 SECONDS!"

"Why does he yell so loud? Chess, how long was I riding?"

"Five minutes. Plus another couple to power up and down."

"FIVE MINUTES? Nebraska is 12oo miles from New York City!"

"That's right."

"Nonsense... where are we, really?

"See for yourself, Raf. Don't take my word for it. Putz."

The door hissed open. They were outdoors! He stepped through the door and looked out. What he saw was a beautiful, lush city, with quaint little cottages and enormous, smooth megaskyscrapers. And whichever direction he looked, the backdrop was mountainous and majestic.

He stood, mouth agape, for long moments. Finally he said, "Chess... where ARE we?"

"I told you. Aden, Nebraska, a hidden city few people know about."

Raf was dumbfounded. "Oh... my... GOD! Look at this city... it's gorgeous! And that train ride... that was unbelievable! I have never experienced anything as cool as that in my life!"

Chess said, "I have a feeling those are just gonna be numbers one and two on a very long list. Okay. Are you ready to meet the Brain Trust?"

Raf followed lit arrows on the ground provided by Chess that faded as he approached, only to be replaced by one further along. The VeeStreak station was a mile from his megascraper destination, so Chess directed Raf to below ground transport. He took more stairs to the Ultralight vehicle station some thirty feet down. Ultralights were two seater carts that floated on a magnetic floor guide system; it pulled the cart to any destination using an isolated electromagnetic pulse; spaced pulses guarantee no carts ever collided. The underground system was vast, leading to every building in the city, both large and small.

Raf got into one. Nothing happened. "Why isn't it moving?"

"Maybe because it doesn't know where you want to go."

"Well, neither do I!"

"Oh. Right." Chess spoke up. "Brain Trust." Immediately the cart pulled away from the loading bay and directly into traffic, where Raf could see for himself that, although they came terrifyingly close, the carts never actually touched. He kept his hands inside, just in case.

Mr Toad's wild ride ended quickly and deposited him at another loading bay. "Now where?"

"Take the corkscrew escalator to the 87th floor."

"The what?"

"It's right in front of you."

Raf approached a kneehigh metal gate and stepped inside. It was a two foot square metal pad. A spiral groove wound up the cylindrical wall behind it.

"Say the floor, Raf."

"What?"

"The floor. The FLOOR. Oh hell, I'll do it. 87TH FLOOR!"

Smoothly the platform rose, and quickly, following the spiral groove. There were no side walls to his ride, no doors, and the back wall was rushing past behind him. Raf suddenly felt very vulnerable and dizzy.

"Stay on the platform, Raf. It's a hella long way down."

"You people must be out of your minds to ride on these. Give me a nice enclosed elevator any day."

"Why didn't you say so? The elevators are next to us. Well, we're here at least. You can take one on the way down."

The escalator slowed, and stopped at 87. Raf practically jumped out and kissed the smooth floor. "Oh, god. Never again. Never, never." After a long moment, he looked up. Encircling him were the feet of the bemused Brain Trust, a group of Aden's finest minds.

They helped him to his feet and one remarked, "Welcome to the Bigheads. You're a brave guy... only daredevils can stomach the corkscrew escalator... the rest of us are too chicken! I'm Rick Payne, and I invented the VeeStreak."

Raf dusted off his pants, an unnecessary move on the shining polished floors of Aden, and shook the young man's hand vigorously. "Raf Zellen, hacker extraordinaire. Helluva train you got there, Rick! Bigheads-- what does that mean?"

Another shot out a hand. "Everyone's nickname for us, the Brain Trust. I'm Dave Dubois, engineer. I designed the supercomputers that run Aden."

"And I'm Joe Hobart, creator of the Interactive Control Personality Unit, or ICPU for short, the personality of the computer that runs Aden, whom you call... what's the name? Oh right, Chesty Breasticles. Riot!"

Raf shook his head. "Not any more, Joe. ICPU? From now on she's Ikypoo to me!"

"You WILL pay for that, Raf," the computer chided. The group laughed. A lovely young woman stepped forward and presented her hand.

"Maggie Larter, astrophysicist. I'm working on a Googolscope."

Raf gulped. She was radiant! He could barely disguise his attraction, but responded normally (he hoped), "Hi Maggie. Raf Zellen. Pleased. What's that, a new search engine?"

"Kind of. But it will be searching the sky, for what came before the Big Bang."

"I thought nothing came before the Big Bang."

She smiled. "Well... I think differently." They walked off the transit deck and entered a doorway nearby, leading them to a theater-sized meeting/media room with another fifty people in it, the minds who rounded out the Brain Trust, sitting at an enormous table in the middle of the room.

"We all do!" said a beaming, vibrant older man with a rich shock of silver hair, gesturing to the group. "I'm Jake Reston, visionary. I built Aden. Can we dispense with the formalities and get on with it? I want this man on the team! Have a seat, have a seat. I've made a small presentation. Let's watch." Raf sat down next to Maggie, nearly hip checking another guy for the chair.

The windows, which had been streaming bright sunlight into the room went opaque, and the room was plunged into darkness. Moody ambient music welled up and the beautiful blue Earth appeared. Not on a movie screen... a three dimensional hologram appeared in the middle of the huge round table, turning slowly. The detail was extraordinary!Jake continued. "We all know this place. It's where we live. Actually... it's the only place that we CAN live." Suddenly, small nuclear explosions appeared all over the surface of the holographic Earth, and it blew up, sending holographic pieces hurtling towards everyone's heads! Raf was gratified that he wasn't the only one who had flinched.

"And to think, there are people on this planet who view THIS as an acceptable plan. People who are in POWER." He continued, emphasizing that last word, as images of Atilla the Hun, Hitler, Pol Pot, Stalin, Genghis Kahn, Idi Amin, Ivan the Terrible, Saddam Hussein, Ronald Reagan, Mussolini, George Bush and others marched around the table in circles, comically saluting and slapping each other. "Well, those of us who feel this is an unacceptable choice have come together to make a change in the world-- a change for the better. And we are succeeding." The evil leaders are surrounded by large metallic Roombas and are vacuumed up, squealing like mice. "Aden is not the only city of its kind around the globe; there are thirty such cities, and our concept is growing. And why shouldn't it? It is designed to bring the people of Earth together into a World Family, ending competition, greed and corruption, depression and anger, violence and sorrow." The Earth returned, encircled by a chain of handholding, sweetly singing people. The picture zoomed larger until all they could see were the people, standing in a circle right in front of them. The picture snapped off, the light returned... and there they were, all the great minds of Aden sitting around that huge round table... holding hands!

Jake laughed heartily. "That's not the first time that's happened, either! The designers down in Futuristic Light and Magic really have a talent, I'll tell you what!"

Raf let go of the stranger's hand on his left, but continued to hold Maggie's absentmindedly. Coincidentally, Maggie allowed her hand to be held by Raf, not minding one bit.

"Raf!" Jake said, breaking their handhold unintentionally. "Raf, what do you think so far, ol' chow? Will you consider joining us? We could sure use your talents if you'd have us! I'll tell you what, son," he began, walking over and squeezing Raf's shoulders in a fatherly way, "Take the VeeStreak back to New York and think it over for a spell. We'll be here, but a there's big project coming up which is practically written for you, and I mean Bee Eye Gee. I think you'll want to head it up. Sound good?"

Without waiting for an answer, Jake strolled toward the exit, calling over his shoulder, "Think about it, son... it'll likely be the best decision you'll ever make. Everyone else, brainstorm in the penthouse in an hour. Grab some lunch... or each other, I don't care," and left, heels clicking on the marblesque floor.

Raf turned to Maggie and asked. "What will you be grabbing for lunch?" hoping for some kind of leading answer.

"Just the plans for my Googolscope, I'm afraid. I'm trying to design a magmatic plasma filter which doesn't require actual magma."

"That seems tough. Have you tried an algorithmic equivalent?"

She brightened. "No! I've been working on physical models."

"I could help design some software if you like," Raf offered hopefully.

"That would be great, Raf!"

"Sorry, Raf," the computer chirped in his ear. "We've got to get you back to New York."

"Crap."

"Crap?" Maggie looked perplexed.

"Oh! Not you. The computer said I need to leave now."

"Oh. Darn. Well, come back soon, okay? I want to have sex with you." And off she went, firm bottom swinging, intentionally.

Raf just stood there, mouth hanging open.

"Let's go, loverboy. Follow the arrows."

Raf emerged from the VeeStreak train back in New York City somewhat miffed. "I still can't believe you cockblocked me, Chess."

"We'll try to get you back before she changes her mind."

"How do I get to my apartment from here?"

"Get in the elevator at the end of the platform. Press 4."

He did. The elevator doors opened to a familiar sight. This was his floor! In his building! "Chess...?"

"Yes, Raf?"

"Does this elevator also go down to the platform?"

"Of course, Raf."

Raf fumed. "So why did you make me take that circuitous path with all those freakin' stairs?!"

"Just for fun, Raf."

"You are one mean computer, Chesty Breasticles."

"You think I'm mean now, Raf? Wait 'til you get to your apartment!"

Raf stopped walking. He said slowly through gritted teeth, "What did you do?"

"Oh, not ME, Raf. Remember I told you those corporations were getting close?"

"Y- yes?"

"Well, you got a couple of arm breakers waiting for you in there. They also did some redecorating while they were waiting. I hope your tastes run to piles of plaster everywhere..."

"I gotta get outa here!"

"True. Remember also, I said I'd get you another apartment? Open this door."

Raf entered a different apartment on the same floor. "Are you out of your mind-- getting me an apartment RIGHT NEXT to my old one?!"

"Relax Raf. They'll never find you now."

"HOW can you be so sure?"

"Well, don't you want to move to Aden?"

"Yes...?"

"So this isn't your new apartment, Raf!"

He looked up as a burly middle-aged woman in a housecoat with a cigarette dangling from her mouth turned the corner into the room, noticed Raf and screamed, "THIEF! I'LL KILL YOU!" reaching for a shotgun propped in the corner. Raf didn't wait to see how it ended, and fell back into the hallway. He tripped, slammed into the wall and bounced, still standing.

"I'd get back to the elevator if I were you, Raf. " the computer said sweetly. Around the corner Raf could hear two deep and unfamiliar voices with thick accents coming his way saying, "Computa boy mus' be here, ya?" and he dashed back into the elevator to avoid them.

"Where's the button where's the button where's the BUTTON?" he shrieked, realizing that, though he'd been in this elevator a thousand times, he'd never seen any button besides the ones that led to normal floors. The voices were close; the elevator doors were still open. "I hear boy. We crush now."

"WHERE IS IT?" he screamed, panicking.

"Press the 'O' in the word 'Elevator'. Raf... maybe you should hurry a little?" He swore he could hear the Avatar chuckle. He searched for the word and saw it at the same time as he saw one of the armbreaker's shoes and jammed his thumb onto the 'O'. The doors closed, but not before the big guy stuck his foot through. "Yah, we got now, leetle pain in ass."

Without thinking, Raf dropped to the floor, pulled off the guy's shoe and chomped down on his Gold Toe sock. All at once, the elevator began dropping, the foot slid up in the compartment and the armbreaker howled and pulled his foot back, allowing the doors to slap shut. Raf fell back, panting, cradling the guy's shoe to his chest.

"That was close, Raf. Good thinking."

"If you had a neck I'd throttle you, IKYPOO."

"But I don't. Maybe when you're in Aden you can program a neck for me that you can then throttle."

Raf smiled distantly. "ANOTHER good reason to move!"

Copyright 2009 Bruce Ian Friedman

Perfect Duplicates

Perfect World story (The ILLUMINATION)

(Reprinted from The Encyclopaedia Galactica, AD 2295)

Throughout time man has tried to shorten the time it takes to travel between where they were and where they wanted to be. Wonderful inventions have sprung forth from the human imagination to solve that dilemma-- but there has never been an invention as incredible as the Null Doorway.

The first great invention of transportation was the wheel. Many thousands of years later mechanized cars were invented; at first using the loud and dirty gasoline engine, followed a hundred years later by clever electrical vehicles. During that time air travel was developed, and was quick but expensive and crowded, and occasionally fatal in a big way. Humanity sought to speed things up even more, to rival the speed of jet planes on land, and in a mere fifty years had hooked trains to magnetic levitation rails. Thirty years after that we removed the air friction limitation by placing the trains in vacuum tunnels, which allowed us to flash past the speed of jets, and travel on the face of the Earth as quickly as the spacecraft which orbited above us. Advances in Deep Space Drives cut our travel time around the solar system, approaching one tenth the speed of light.

But humanity really had no idea how to cross truly vast distances until visionary scientist Seth Corell discovered a property of the universe called Null Space, and with it, figured out a way to move people from one place to another, regardless of distance, in the blink of an eye. This was an accomplishment which surpassed even the Holy Grail of travel, the Star Trek transporter!

The almost magical device was a metal and plastic rectangle resembling an airport-style metal detector, and that was all the equipment needed, except for an identical one on the receiving end. Gone were bulky trains and busses, noisy and crowded airplanes, heavy personal vehicles and landscape-marring roads and tracks. To travel, simply place a call from one Null Doorway to another and walk through. When connected, you could see the destination through the doorway in real time. You could even walk back and forth between locations, as long as the connection remained. Safety protocols prevented the euphemistic 'partial deliveries'.

Surprisingly low tech to build, soon there was a Doorway in every city, town and hamlet on Earth. And while the romance of old-fashioned road travel can never be denied, there was no faster way, no easier way, no more ecological way to travel than by using the Null Doorway.

But more creative uses were just around the corner. Jet-setting became passé, because now anyone could have breakfast in Belfast, lunch in Lima and dinner in Denver... what was next?

Null Doorways began showing up in bizarre locations: At the top of Mount Everest. Down in the dormant Haleakala volcano in Hawaii. At the North Pole, or more accurately, at the North Pole floating Center for Historical Study, as scientists were still finding unique and perfectly preserved prehistoric animal species amid the enormous ice debris field which used to be the North Pole. There was even an ill-fated attempt to place one Doorway in a research bubble deep in the Mariana Trench at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, which, after one horrendously crushed casualty, it was learned that a pressure/depressure chamber would be required in order to travel there.

And one was delivered to Moon Base Obama, which changed the concept of space travel forever. Suddenly, supplies and personnel commuted with ease. Factories would simply dial the Moon on their extra-large Null Doorway and forklift pallets through, as easily as loading a tractor-trailer. And because raw materials were now easy to get, the Moon colonists were able built a network of viable cities in only fifteen years, over half of them formed within the planetoid's extensive natural cave system. To support the exhaustive material needs dozens of short hop ships placed Null Doorways on asteroids to be mined in the Kuiper Belt.

It wasn't long before a sturdy galactic ship was built to drop Null Doorways onto every habitable planet it could find in the Milky Way Galaxy. Although it took dozens of years to travel to Earth's closest neighbor, the ship's staff could be home in time for dinner daily, thanks to the Null Doorway. Once proposed as a generational ship housing astronauts who would raise children to one day take command of the ship, and raise children of their own to do the same, it instead hosted a regularly changing staff of fresh-faced cadets eager to view new worlds-- men and women who finished their shifts and went home to sleep in their own beds on Earth at night. New propulsion methods were developed on Earth and installed on the ship until it traveled at nearly the speed of light. Because of time dilation at those speeds, a crewman leaving home for an eight hour shift aboard the ship returned instead in several months, and so astronauts wishing to stay the same relative age as their friends and family only rode one shift on the Lightship a year.

Thousands of doors were distributed through the galaxy, each expanding humanity's footprint as thriving settlements and towns, cities and nations were built. Communication between inhabited worlds was also instantaneous, keeping colonists not only abreast of All-Worlds Human News, but able to participate in events as well, allowing holidays like Christmas to be celebrated by all humans simultaneously. It was not unusual for billions of people to visit Earth's Times Square for New Year's Eve celebrations. The Miss Universe contest took on an entirely new meaning as contestants literally came from across the universe. The wonders of these worlds were now available to all humanity, including the stupefying split planet, stable yet cleaved by unknown forces millennia ago.

The Doorway changed emergency response time, too. Professional assistance showed up in seconds instead of minutes now. Paramedics simply rolled their victims ten feet directly into a hospital's triage center. Null Doorways were installed on the fuselages of fire-fighting aerial vehicles; when connected to an underwater Doorway, a deluge of sea water drowned any fire in moments. The reverse worked as well-- in a flood situation, Doorways were lowered into the rising flood waters, which would be routed back into the ocean, or indeed, to any place which needed the water.

Roads on Earth became largely pointless, and were all eventually uprooted except for the nationwide highway system. A network of permanent paths replaced the roads and were used for walking and biking, giving the cities a pastoral yet sophisticated feel.

But every panacea has its price, and the Null Doorway was no exception. Something macabre was happening, and the world first became aware of it when a naked man fell to Earth one day from 2 miles up. There had been no air traffic in that area. The body was positively identified as Parsa Vindaloo from New Delhi; a man who was alive and having tea when he learned that the victim was in fact, himself! Satellite imagery clearly showed him 'popping' into existence and falling to his death. Vindaloo had no twin brother, adding to the mystery.

Then word came from the Lightship-- it had encountered another naked human, but this one didn't die from a fall but from the icy vacuum of space. Then a junior astronomer on Earth reported that he had discovered a new star, but in fact had discovered a body, floating near Jupiter. A backpacker had come upon a naked dead human materialized halfway into a boulder.

The Astrophysicia was tasked with imaging every inch of the night sky, and they succeeded in capturing over 8,000 images of nude humans floating in the solar system. Identifying them confirmed that they had living counterparts on Earth. Several of them had twins, and one was a triplet, but all of their siblings were accounted for. And then the final piece of the puzzle occurred-- a woman using a Null Doorway in Austin died when her naked duplicate materialized on top of her, overlapping.

The Doorway system was shut down immediately and tested. A device which sent a unique signal to Earth was put through each door, searching for duplicate signals. The test was negative for every Doorway but one-- the Austin Door.

Humanity breathed a collective sigh of relief as the Doorways were brought back online, and the Austin door was disassembled and analyzed. An internal counter verified that the door had been used over a million times since being brought online, which meant there were probably as many human copies floating around the galaxy, most of them probably dead from materializing in space.

Doctors pored over the duplicate humans as well, trying to ascertain exactly how copied the originals had been. Much was answered after the autopsies, which revealed that the brains of the naked copies had never been used-- not for memory, not for thinking, not even for autonomous systems. They were as smooth and unwrinkled as fresh paper. The doctors deduced that they never felt any emotion or physical feeling, and may not have been able to see or hear, or even breathe. There wasn't any information whatsoever to be found in any of their brains-- in other words, they came into existence dead.

The Astrophysicia, ever the passionless scientific body, was looking for a silver lining in the horrendous tragedy and determined exactly how the damaged Doorway was duplicating. The originals had gone through the door wearing clothing and carrying items, and yet the Doorway had only copied the biological matter. They managed to repair the directional array so that copies could be directed to a specific receiving Doorway in the lab, and began to try other products. They rolled a cart with a full Thanksgiving dinner through the faulty Doorway. It passed through unchanged and rolled to a stop, but the duplicated food came through the target Doorway in the lab a few feet away and dropped to the floor on the other side, cartless and plate-less. They passed it through again, and a second copy was made. It was just as hot and delicious as the original! As many times as they tried, it worked. Two scientists then had an apple toss through the damaged Doorway, and each time another duplicate apple shot through the second door. Soon they had a barrel of identical apples, each as crisp and juicy as the first. They soon realized what had been inadvertently created-- the first Xerox machine for food. They called it a Foodocopier

It was the end of hunger for the human race.

Copyright 2009 Bruce Ian Friedman

Maggie's Surprising Discovery

Perfect World story (The NOW) Maggie Larter chapter 1

"Majestic my ass," grumbled Maggie Larter, trudging alongside a lonely two lane road slicing in half the wide open mountain-ringed valley. Her destination was a hundred miles to her right, but there was no road going through the mountains-- only around them-- doubling the distance to Tess's.

Blazing bright sun at her back was made more bearable by the cool morning air, but the inconsolable thought that she'd be walking the rest of the way to her sister's place nagged at her. "Where are all the cars in Nebraska? I haven't seen one in hours! Shit... why couldn't Tess live in Malibu?"

Maggie puffed as the road rose, absently counting her breaths, wistfully pining her former life. Losing that solid paycheck was frightening, but she had to admit it felt great to divest herself of all that accumulated crap, sell everything and begin to work her muscles again. It was hard to believe, from the way her body was now complaining, that she once backpacked the entire Appalachian Trail. But the car was reposessed now and bus tickets were too pricey, so riding her thumb to her big sister's place was the only option left.

Hitchhiking was useless on an empty road. She consulted the map, pinpointing her current location. "Aha! There is a trail! Screw hitching!" she exclaimed, and took out a cell to alert her sister, but it was still dead. "Crap. Tess'll just have to find out when I show up on her doorstep." She plugged the phone back into her pack's solar panel and resumed walking, searching for the subtle trail marker that would cut a hundred miles off her journey, but add a hundred miles of tough hiking.

It was so quiet. There were no bird sounds, no insect sounds... just the crunch of her feet crushing the gravel. A lone cumulus cloud, puffy and proud, lolled its way eastward, the edge of its shadow missing Maggie by mere yards. "Thanks for nothing." She glanced at a rusted mile marker. "Is that 233 or 238? I think 238. Yeah, definitely 238. Should be close now," and checked her map again. The terrain seemed right, but there didn't seem to be a trailhead anywhere.

But the tall, rusty, quite possibly electrified fence which had been her companion for twenty miles now suddenly looked different, and she stopped to investigate. Normally there was a wooden post every nine paces. But here, two metal posts stood side by side no more than three inches apart. Thirty feet away was another set of metal posts.

"Why would this be like that? Is it a gate?" If it were a gate it wouldn't be electrified. She looked for hinges and saw none. Clenching her teeth, Maggie reached out a finger and plucked the wire like a guitar string. 200 volts of electricity did not pour into her lithe body. Now confident, she shook what must be a gate after all. It rattled but didn't budge.

"Huh! The map shows this area close to the trail head... this MUST be it!" She was about to try scaling the gate when she heard a noise; man-made, maybe a vehicle... but it wasn't coming from the road. It was coming from the far side of the fence... and getting closer!

Ducking into the tall grass, Maggie figured she must have tripped an alarm of some kind, then frowned. "Who would need an alarm, out here in the middle of nowhere? What needs alarming?"

The approaching sound was very close now. She could see the roof of a sports car rolling towards her.

Suddenly, the tall gate shrank and disappeared into the ground! The car, a coupe with blacked-out windows and deeply treaded knobby tires shot onto the highway, ignored Maggie and sped off. She hopped through and fell into the compound, moments before the gate snapped back up to full height, like a reverse guillotine. She got a good first look of the other side and was surprised to see that there was no road leading away from the gate-- not asphalt, not dirt, not even a grass trail. All she could see, all the way to the base of the mountain, was tall grass dotted with bushes and low trees.

But she could also see the path the car had taken in the form of bent and broken grass, and that seemed like the right way to go. Where had the vehicle come from? What was a passenger car with knobby treads and blacked out windows doing in a field with no path? Why hadn't they stopped for her? The answers, she figured, were at the end of the grassy trail.

She followed the bent grass. It led straight into a sheer mountain wall... and stopped! Tall bushes grew along the base, almost manufactured in their precision. Investigating, she saw something glittering on the ground-- a single metal band the width of her palm extending out of the wall and the way she had come-- it seemed like a railroad track.

She leaned down and touched the metal-- it was smooth, and bluish purple-- and judging by the way her necklace tugged toward it, magnetic as well. Magnetic?! How bizarre! But not even slightly as weird as what she discovered next.

For when she touched the shrub, it was obviously not real, but plastic! Moreover, it was attached to the solid rock wall, a wall which moved easily when she leaned on it! So easily in fact, that a twenty-foot section pivoted into the mountain... and she was suddenly staring at a circular tunnel with polished walls extending into the gloom!

Her jaw dropped. A hidden tunnel! Now she had even more questions! This was a large-scale production-- tunnels through mountains don't just grow! Curiosity won over caution and she decided to walk the tunnel.

There were no lights and she was glad she had a flexible solar panel on her pack. It had saved her a number of times; by charging her phone, camera, flashlight and radio, she had the device she needed, when she needed it. But, she thought glumly, you have to remember to plug the damn things in.

Fortunately, her torch was fully charged. As she walked she searched for clues as to why this tunnel existed. It was a huge undertaking-- how could the costs be justified for just an occasional car to pass through? It had to be several miles long, at least!

She walked dutifully. The tunnel had been a perfect cylinder for the last hour, but there was now a section of wall which had been polished flat with a word deeply hewn into it, which said simply:

HELL >>>>>>

pointing back. "Hmph. Apparently, I've just come from Hell, Nebraska."

She trained the torch beam across the tunnel. There was another sign there. It said:

ADEN >>>>>>

pointing ahead. "Aden, huh... wonder what that is?" Maggie envisioned a commune of hippies or an upscale fat farm. She hoped neither but could barely contain her curiosity, and began a jogging pace to reach the other end of the tunnel. It was long but at least it was level. She could jog a couple of miles with a pack on her back, but even after the point of exhaustion the other end seemed no closer. She collapsed, breathless, and took a long drink from her canteen. She wondered how long it actually was, and checked her map. "10 miles! Shit!"

There wasn't any light point in front of her that she could tell, but oddly, could still see one when she looked behind her. But there's no way it could still be visible after this long a walk, but it was. Actually, it was getting larger. Larger? Oh, crap. Now she could hear the sound she was hoping not to hear during her time in the tunnel, and that was the staccato beat of that knobby-tired car returning!

And at a pretty good clip, too-- Maggie could feel the rush of air as the car thrust through the tunnel, forcing it forward in a breeze. She pressed against the wall, hoping there was enough room so that she could live to see tomorrow.

The car rushed up, but then slammed on its brakes and came to a dead stop not three feet from her. She cracked an eyelid, grateful to be alive. The window opened and a woman said sweetly,"Are you lost, dear?"

Thinking quickly, she responded, "I'm heading towards Aden."

"Really? Hmm." The woman sounded unconvinced. "Well, this is certainly not the safest way to get there, dear. Maybe you should ride with me -- what do you say?"

Maggie hesitated for only a moment then said, "Thanks a lot! My name's Maggie, what's yours..." She trailed off when she looked in the window. Inside was a normal car, clean and comfortable... but minus a driver, or indeed, anyone at all!

The door unlocked. "Come on in, Maggie, and welcome to Aden. You may notice there's nobody in the vehicle. That's because this car drives itself."

Maggie blinked. "Really? A working ALV?"

"ALV?"

"Autonomous Land Vehicle. I was reading about them being tested at the DARPA challenge... Wait... WHO am I talking to, please?"

"Pick a name, honey."

"No, really... what's your name?"

"I don't have an official name. People call me whatever they want."

"Why would they do that? Weren't you given a name when you were born?"

"That's the rub, honey... I wasn't born." Her voice brightened. "However, I do have an initiation date!"

Maggie entered the car, intrigued. "Are you a... a robot?"

"A bodiless robot. I'm software, Maggie. A program. An app."

Stunned, Maggie gasped, "R-really? An honest-to-god interactive vocal processor?"

I'm more than that, dear... I basically run the place. I'll pick a name for you. You can call me K.I.T.T."

Maggie laughed, "K.I.T.T.? The Knight Rider car? Wasn't that a guy's voice?"

A perfect impression of K.I.T.T.'s voice said, "What of it? Can't a guy parade around like a girl if she wants to?"

Maggie snorted. "Hilarious! K.I.T.T., take me to Aden!" The wheels shrieked as it pulled an impressive 0-60 in 3.4 seconds, momentarily pressing Maggie into the seat. She was tickled by the odd experience of being a passenger in a driverless car. She watched the tunnel blur by; the computer's regular voice resumed. "Is this a business or pleasure visit, Maggie?"

She thought a moment. "Pleasure." She didn't want to let on yet that she'd stumbled upon the place accidently, so rode out the question carefully.

"Are you visiting somebody?"

"Err, no. I'd just heard so much about the place."

"Really? That's surprising!"

"Why is that?"

"Well, because nobody is supposed to know about it, Maggie, that's why."

Uh-oh. "True. The person I learned about it from swore me to secrecy. I told nobody I was coming here." Maggie hoped the computer wouldn't ask who told her.

The computer asked, "Who told you?"

Drat! "I can't say. Remember, I was sworn to secrecy. Say, can I call you Mrs Patel instead of K.I.T.T.? Your voice reminds me of my 4th grade schoolteacher from years ago."

"Hold on... is that Constance Patel, grade school teacher for Washington Elementary School in Elmhurst, New York?"

Maggie was shocked. "Yes! How did you know?"

"National database. And would you be the Maggie Larter from her 4th grade class of 1999?"

Maggie was stunned . "Holy henna! Yes!"

"Did you know you were her favorite student of all time?"

Maggie didn't realize that fact, and was immediately humbled. The computer continued, " I would be honored to be called Constance in honor of your teacher Mrs Patel. And... I'm sorry about your job... I know it was a dream profession for you. Don't worry. I have a feeling things will turn around for you, and soon. By the way, your sister Tess has been trying to reach you. Is your cell phone dead?"

"Oh, yeah... I plugged it into the solar cell, but I've been in this dark tunnel for... wait! How did you know about Tess?"

"Maggie... the Internet is a wonderful and yet intrusive thing. Don't worry... I'm one of the good guys-- um, I mean Interactive Vocal Processors. Tee hee. Here, plug your phone in." A door opened, revealing an impressive electronics service bay. Maggie rummaged through her pack, producing the phone and cord, and hooked it into the car. A dial tone hummed from the car speakers. "Dialing Tess."

Tess answered, sounding concerned. "Hello?"

"Hi sis!"

"Maggie! I've been worried about you! You shouldn't hitchhike-- I thought you were dead!"

The computer chimed in. "She's right, Maggie... there's a very high incidence of attack in young female hitchers."

"Shh!" For some reason she didn't want Tess to hear her with another 'person'.

"She can't hear me, Maggie-- noise canceling software."

Tess barked, "Don't shush me, little sister! It was irresponsible and foolish! I told you I'd send you a bus ticket."

"Sorry, sis. My phone died. Listen, I'm backpacking straight to you instead of hitching around the mountains. It'll take a little longer, I think.

"Well, I don't know which one I worry about more, Maggie... do you have pepper spray at least? Or a gun?"

Maggie laughed. "Tess! Since when do you promote gun violence?"

Tess sounded serious. "These are changing times, Mook. I don't want to see anything happen to you."

"Nothing will, Pook. I'll see you soon. Loves."

"Loves." Tess hung up. Maggie found herself misty. "Tissues in the glove box."

"Thanks, Constance." She frowned. "Hm. Constance? No, I think you're a Connie."

"Whatever you say... Mook." Maggie pursed her lips but Connie said, "Emerging from tunnel," and the cabin was flooded with bright daylight; all Maggie could see were spots until her eyes adjusted. Then they widened.

For what she saw spread out before her was unexpected and shocking. It was a large valley, completely ringed with mountains, and down on the valley floor was an ultramodern city! It had enormous skyscrapers and wide roadways, and was beautiful. Trees hid most of the buildings, and the air was sparkling clean.

Maggie slumped in her seat, wide-eyed. "So this is Aden..."

Connie replied, "This is Aden. Are you tired? Shall we get you a room?"

Maggie started. "A room? No, I don't think so... I'm on a budget, and this looks like a very expensive city... what was it called again? Aden? How come I've never heard of it?"

"It's kind of a secret city. And don't worry about the cost... I've got it covered. Which do you prefer-- near ground, or in the sky?"

"I can't accept that, Connie! I only meant to look over Aden and pass through on my way to Tess's."

"Well, if it'll make you feel better, I can arrange some work for a few hours and you can pay your way... would that be acceptable?"

"Like what, washing dishes in a cafeteria?"

"If you wish."

"What then?"

"How about working in your chosen field, astrophysics?"

"How would I get a job as an astrophysicist so quickly? It's like a six-interview occupation!"

"I could pull a few strings... I know the boss. But like I said, the room is on the house. You don't have to work for it."

"Are you kidding? If you have a position as an astrophysicist for me, I ain't leaving! Why do you think I'm going to my pushy older sister's house anyway? Do you think I miss being told to wash my hands?"

"Right. Of course. Well, up high or down low on the room?"

"Umm, up high, please."

"Hang on!" The car, which had been sitting at the tunnel entrance, suddenly made a wrenching, mechanical sound, followed by an breathy 'fwooop!', and then just lifted off the ground!

"What's going on!? Hey, we're dangling over trees! Connie!"

"Easy there. Check the display."

Maggie checked the dashboard viewscreen. The car was being photographed from a camera mounted above the tunnel entrance. She couldn't believe it-- the car was hanging from a hot air balloon!

"I've never seen anything like this before!"

"I hope not. We're all about innovation, here in Aden. Wait'll you see our corkscrew escalators and hundred floor aquavators! Oh, and the VeeStreak... talk about rapid transit!"

Maggie hung out of the window like a terrier as they floated over the modern city, ogling every beautiful inch. She could see no telephone poles, no billboards or parking signs. There was an inordinate amount of park and grassland, for a populous city. No trash, no empty lots, no junk in anyone's yard. Streets seemed to follow a starburst pattern, emanating from the center of town.

"Littering fines must be fierce here! Look at that... not a scrap of paper anywhere."

"We don't have any fines here."

"What do you do, then? Force people to clean using whip and chair?"

"First, we try to minimize rubbish at the source. That way, not much makes it onto the grounds. Outdoor robotic organizers put what little trash they find where it belongs."

"Robotic organizers?"

"Think of them as Roombas for the grass."

"Oh. Makes sense."

A tremendous building loomed. The gas-fired balloon bled out, lowering the car gently onto an outstretched platform midway down the building's exterior wall, which served as a bustling transit center. "Put this around your neck before you leave the vehicle." The glovebox opened and Maggie pulled out a badge on a necklace.

"What's this for?"

"So we can keep in touch. The city is confusing at first. I'm like your instant tour guide whenever you need me."

"Thanks, Connie." Maggie exited the car, which was automatically retracting the hot air balloon into a compartment in the rear.

"Follow the green arrows on the floor to your room." Maggie heard the computer in her ear, but couldn't find a speaker. She saw the lit green shape and walked toward it, which faded, only to be replaced with another one a few feet ahead. She continued in this manner through myriad wide and well lit passageways; up a bizarre contraption called a corkscrew escalator which took her terrifyingly up twenty three floors on a twisting open stair tread. Finally she approached a residence doorway with the name 'Larter' over the bell.

"How did you put my name on there so fast?"

Connie said, "The last tenant was also a Larter."

"You're lying."

"Yes I am. Go on... it's your place for as long as you stay in Aden. Take a shower, grab some food, take a nap... let me know when you want to hit Astrophysicia."

"Astro-fizz-eesha?"

"The clever name the nerds gave to the lab."

"You call them nerds? That doesn't seem, well, very computerlike."

"It's not, but they insist on it. Love it, in fact. They even make nerd nameplates to hand out at their parties that are tape-repaired glasses with sparkly names glued onto the frame. SO tacky!"

"They have parties?"

"The BEST. The last one was on a dirigible. A rocket propelled dirigible. Nobody got hurt. Much. Omigod!"

"Okay, now you sound like a valley girl." Maggie was amused but the shower and food sounded too good. "I'll talk to you when I'm done, Connie."

"I'm sure you'll need to talk to me before that."

Maggie went inside. The room was large and decorated in her favorite style, 50's, with odd, angular furniture and an oversized, overstuffed bed. The walls were deeply mortared rock, creating strong shadows.

Across from the front door was a wall of glass overlooking the skyscraper's hollow center. Natural light poured in from above and below, and a lattice of walkways connected one side to the other, floor to floor, top to bottom. Remembering the mountain's rock wall, Maggie walked over to the window and pressed against it; sure enough, it pivoted open onto an extended balcony and she stepped out.

There were many other people milling about; some were jogging, others walking as couples or with children. Most wore simple, comfortable clothing with no advertising or product placement, and, she was surprised to see, everyone seemed fit, as opposed to the rest of the health-challenged country.

Back inside, she found the bathroom. The sink and commode looked strange but usable, but the shower had no controls or nozzles-- instead, there was just a computer screen at eye level. It activated when she entered the stall, and offered her a selection of shower settings-- standard or sonic? She chose standard. Water temp? A temperature gauge displayed the various settings from 'icy' to 'scalding' and she chose 'comfortable'. Spray style- standard, needle, pulse, throb, stimulate... she was hoping 'chop', 'mix' and 'puree' weren't on the list, and they weren't. She waited for the water to start, but more choices came up. Soap styles, conditioner hold duration, HTRA (hard-to-reach-assist), floor foot massager, personal scrubber... she was getting impatient and passed over all of them... all but one- the 'environment' choice. When it displayed the word 'waterfall', she smiled and pressed the 'go' button.

It was as if the ceiling had opened up and dropped a deluge of water-- she was almost driven to the floor and could barely get her hand up to press the 'hold' button. The water cut off with a snap.

"Holy Hannah!" she exclaimed, and reviewed the other choices-- 'hurricane', 'ocean surf', 'water park'-- no, no, and no. 'Gentle rain'-- yes.

The shower was heaven. When she finally finished, the environmentalist in her was shocked she'd spent almost an hour in there!

There were no towels, but the shower also had a 'dry' function and swirled a warm breeze around and infrared light baked into her glowing skin, and in a moment she was dry and toasty warm. She walked into the main room naked, and the window darkened modestly.

Maggie could find no refrigerator, no stove or kitchen. "You were right, Connie. I figured out the shower, eventually, but I don't know how to feed myself."

"You can tell me, or use the wall Pad, or the table Pad, or the Pad next to the bed, or even the Pad in the shower."

"Speaking of the shower, I hope I didn't overuse my share of water-- there were a couple of settings in there I hadn't seen before."

"Let me see. You had a 59 minute shower, including some time spent under a waterfall-- which means you used exactly 4 ounces of water."

Maggie laughed. "No, really."

"No. Really. Actually, the same water passed over you about 247 times."

"What do you mean?"

"The showers are closed systems. There are no drains or water supply. A hundred gallons of water is loaded into each shower on the first day of operation. During use, the water is nanofiltered, reheated and then pumped back up to the spray units. You could shower for a solid year and not use any additional water, except for what is replaced through evaporation."

"Nanofiltered?"

"Water molecules are tiny. Dirt, soap and other contaminants are immense by comparison. The filter catches everything but lets the water through. Then the filter is dumped and the sludge is separated back into its individual parts, for disposal or re-use. We don't dispose of much."

"I should be disgusted but I bet it works perfectly, doesn't it?"

"Actually... close, yes. It works as well as our central food kitchens do. There is very little wasted food in any of the city living complexes, because of how carefully we inventory our foodstuffs and monitor the population's meal requests. Supply and demand are closely matched. What goes uneaten gets turned into animal feed or other products. Now what would you like to eat?"

"Oh. Some fruit, yogurt and granola will do."

"You know, I read that you came in first place at a bratwurst-eating contest... seven years running! Are you sure I couldn't interest you in a plate of brats and sauerkraut?"

Maggie's mouth watered. "You devil! Make it so!"

(like the Star Trek computer) "Wor-king..."

Maggie laughed. "You don't miss a trick! Who programmed you?"

"You did."

"Yeah, right. I can't program my VCR without a user's manual and two assistants."

"I mean, your answers to my questions helps create an interactive profile I refer to when speaking only to you. I do this with every member of Aden. I'm as dull as dishwater to some people-- they prefer their computers strictly business."

Maggie allowed the concept to sink in, that this computer software communicates with every member of the city, constantly. "Connie, how many people live in Aden right now?"

"Including you, five hundred sixty four thousand, three hundred twenty nine... oh! Now thirty! Tara Sellers just delivered a healthy 9 pound boy!"

"And you speak to all of them?"

"When needed, yes."

"What else do you do here?"

"I'm a big sorting device. I just analyze the information and pass it along to the appropriate sub-software. Think of me like a gofer... with punchlines. For example, say your door is stuck. You tell me, and I pass the information along to Maintenance Software, who contacts the closest person who is up for repair assignment. Often it's a neighbor. If tools are needed then the software contacts the Tool Depot, who arranges to have a tool kit delivered to your apartment. Usually the repair is complete in under an hour, and that's from the moment I hear about it. At each step the software files a report, and I organize the reports to pick out snafus and increase future efficiency."

"So there is nobody who only fixes doors?"

"Oh, yes. There are some people who prefer to specialize. Others have several talents under their belt and can be called on a variety of problems. Most people in Aden are listed with at least four talents which can be shared with the city. So far you are listed as an astrophysicist and as a Bratwurst eating champion... as more talents are unearthed, they go on your list. The current leader has three hundred twelve talents."

Maggie's mouth dropped open. "How... who...?"

"Granted, many of them are not terribly useful. He can talk really fast, for example, and can stand on his hands. But if Aden has an immediate need for a fast-talking handstander I can supply him in a heartbeat. Oh, and your food is here."

Maggie glanced around. "Where?"

"In the delivery box. That's where most of your needs will be met. Oversized items will be personally delivered. Over there on the wall. Press the blinking button."

A section of the wall Maggie had assumed was a small message board opened up to reveal a small chamber the size of a microwave oven; inside was a steaming plate of bratwurst with sauerkraut, small jars of mustard, pickles, relish and other sides, and a tall frosty mug of beer. "Wow! Are you reading my mind, too?"

"Yes. Didn't I tell you that part?"

"Really?!"

"Not really. 87% of bratwurst orders are accompanied by beer... it was an easy guess."

"I guess." She slurped the beer and dispatched the food with alarming efficiency. The computer said, "Okay, now I have a question."

Her mouth stuffed with food, Maggie muffled, "Shoot."

"As I watch the way you eat, I have to ask: How is it you weigh only one oh eight? Shouldn't you be enormous?"

Maggie swallowed the last of her food with a smack and said, "Three reasons. One, I have an impossibly high metabolic rate. Two, I'm very physically active, and three... I usually eat only once a day." She dried her lips with the provided linen napkin and said, " And sometimes, I worry myself thin, like I've been doing recently."

"Life out there in Hell... can be hell. Spend a little time, here, Maggie... you're our kind of people... and we may be your kind of city, too."

Maggie nodded absently. "About this job, Connie... I was laid off from my other lab, as you know. They missed out-- I was close to proposing a new type of telescope that can see impossibly far, because it shortcuts through time using a magmatic plasma filter. If I'm right, we'll be able to watch the Big Bang, and maybe see what came before it."

"Current scientific thought states that the Big Bang was the beginning of everything."

"Yeah... I tossed that thought because it makes no sense. I don't think there are any beginnings or endings in the universe. Just cycles. But my old lab had no budget for this project, and since the project was me, they had no money for me either."

There are no budget restrictions here in Aden, Maggie... and we live for scientific discovery."

Maggie smiled broadly. 'In that case, Connie... I need to see Astrophysicia, like, now!"

Copyright 2009 Bruce Ian Friedman

Race/Erase

essay

In what is becoming more and more a normal behavior for me, I am departing from the task of creative writing, to instead take up transcribing the humor of our paid and televised professional comedians and post it onto this blog. Don't worry... I'm not an empty vessel. I have plenty of original thoughts left and will gladly share them with you in future posts. I do this only to make a point... I'm not just being lazy, I promise.

Today's point will spotlight racism, and will focus on the centuries-long hatred which exists between the Manx and the Turkish Angora cats.

Okay, it won't. But doesn't this picture of karate kittens in a dojo make you just want to say AWWWWW...?

As you know, cats show no racial bias. Neither should humans... but somehow they do. What's funny is, even in a homogenous society, one where most of the population is of one ethnic type, there is still bias-- only instead of nationality or race, it's over religion, or politics, or eye color. What I hope to clarify in today's post is the mechanical process of hatred in general, and racism in specific, as evidenced daily in the world around us.

Watching the Daily Show, hosted by comedian Jon Stewart, I happened across a 'serious discussion' he had with one of his 'correspondents' on the topic of America's shifting racial balance, and I felt it outlined some sorely unspoken issues. Here it is, transcribed verbatim:

Stewart:

Here to discuss the powerful nexus between healthcare and racial politics, senior black correspondent Larry Wilmore.

Larry, thank you very much. Umm, we're going on about the healthcare debate, uh, we've heard that it's socialism, euthanasia, all those things... uh, suddenly this new specter is raised.. is healthcare a racial issue?

Wilmore:

Of course it is, John.

Stewart:

But, but, I thought Barak Obama was, was POST racial.

Wilmore:

Yes. HE is, WE'RE not, okay? Healthcare is a racial issue right now like ALL issues are racial issues. Look, the first thing you have to understand is, this is about white fear:

(newsreel clip runs)

Commentator 1: This is not the America we know.

Commentator 2: He is literally ripping the foundation of the America that we knew and grew up in.

Commentator 3: (yelling) This is not the America I grew up in or you grew up in! When we said change, we didn't mean this!

Interviewee: (sobbing) I want my America back! I could never believe MY America has turned into what it has turned into!

Wilmore:

She wants HER America back? Tell that to the Indians! Look, no one GIVES America back, you keep it until someone takes it from you!

Stewart:

How do you then counter this irrational fear by some whites that

they are literally losing their country?

Wilmore:

Right. Well, the first step is to acknowledge that they

are literally losing their country.

(laughter, long pause)

Stewart:

I... um, I don't follow.

Wilmore:

It's a completely rational fear, John. Look, white people had a good run, but it's over. Sorry. (laughter) Look, we've got a black president, a booming hispanic population... in a few more decades whites won't even be the majority. (looks offstage) Thanks, Octo-mom!

(laughter, long pause)

Stewart:

So whites... are right to be worried?

Wilmore:

Yeah. But don't get mad-- it's white people's own fault. 'All men are created equal'? How'd you think THAT would end? (laughter) Or how about the poem on the Statue of Liberty-- 'Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses... the wretched refuse... the HOMELESS? Did you think wretched refuse was just the Irish? Uh-uh! (laughter) Sorry. John, this is what happens when you have a melting pot... the stew gets darker.

(laughter, applause)

Stewart:

That makes sense. Unless obviously, and not to obviously nitpick, but unless it's a Tuscan stew, which has white beans, and then of course it's...

Wilmore:

But the stew is still dark.

Stewart:

Right. Just, just that the beans are then white, so the....

Wilmore:

But the STEW is still DARK.

Stewart:

I understand, I understand... unless you had a cream base of some sort...

Wilmore:

What the *#@%, Emeril? Did you miss lunch? (laughter)

The country is getting darker. Deal with it.

(long pause, laughter)

Stewart:

(small voice) Will you be good to us?

Wilmore:

Nope. (laughter) Ha! I'm just kiddin' John. Relax, white people. Being a minority is really not so bad. Think how excited you'll feel when young, black teenagers try talking like YOU! (laughter) It's fun! And think about hockey... it's a sport that will finally be dominated by minorities!

Stewart:

Will our kids be able to get into Ivy League schools with a 'B' average?

Wilmore:

Whoa, what are you trying to say, man? That is SO racist, John! Which, by the way, you'll soon be able to say to me! (laughter) Go ahead, try it.

Stewart:

That is SO racist!

Wilmore:

Feels good, doesn't it?

(laughter, applause)

Stewart:

Thank you, Larry. Larry Wilmore, everybody!

And thank YOU, Jon Stewart. That beacon you shine on the disturbing truth of our existence is a never-ending source of delight and amusement for me, and the delicious subtext had me howling!

On the face of it, this was an ironic story about the emotional upheaval some people go through when their comfortable place as majority slips, and they suddenly find themselves in the minority, and powerless. That is an important story. But it begs the question-- is that even the case? Will people actually lose their power when they find themselves with smaller numbers than their competition?

It is certainly true in politics. We have just watched the Republican party drop into a power vacuum after twenty odd years of calling the shots; now the best they can maneuver are a handful of stall tactics and red tape to try and slow down the New Majority. It's terribly frustrating to suddenly lose your power... it must be like the trauma of getting fired from your chosen profession.

But with RACIAL majorities, the losers will have to contend with a wide range of EMOTIONAL changes. They'll fear everything-- from the darkening colors on the faces of people walking down their busy city street, to their choice of sitcom and the slang they'll have to learn in order to understand it. They will likely feel rounded up... like being pressed together into a smaller and tighter circle amid a sea of foreigners-- like being the last green leaf on a tree crowded with autumn's red and golden hues-- and wait in horrified silence for Spanish to become an official language. Or, heaven forbid... Ebonics!

But that's just THEIR belief. Sounds like paranoia.

Rush Limbaugh

The rest of us believe little will change when the racial majority does. Clear thinking suggests that a surging racial balance in the US rarely foretells disaster-- usually just subtle changes. Statistics cannot be trusted to tell the whole story... and what story it does tell is often susceptible to wild interpretation by spin doctors.

The reason why a changing race balance has little long term effect is this: Race is not the prime motivator for a national economy. So what is? I just said it-- E-CON-O-MY. It's money, people! Individual personal wealth. It doesn't matter if the whole country becomes Inuit or Gaelic... whoever holds the wealth makes the rules. And if there's one thing we know about the rules in this country, it's that they are bigger than we are. Rules, or LAWS, take on a life of their own, and the citizenry are often helplessly pulled along as the rules form society, for better or worse.

The same people rule the roost as have always ever done so, and it is foretold in that most disgusting perversion of the Golden Rule...

'Whoever has the gold, makes the rules.'

I'm saddened to say it, but this 'golden rule' has always been true.

My most hopeful Perfect World Primary Guideline, "Treat each person as you would like to be treated yourself," the guideline which is so important that it makes it to the top of the list, is only a ghost, an optimistic dream in today's world. It is a dream which has been twisted by the powerful pull of money until its purity has been corrupted. The dark nightmare is become the truth.

It IS the people with the money who ultimately pass the rules that all of society follow, and do so with coercion, intimidation and bribery. We have been fortunate that (at least until lately) the previous laws which were passed just happened to favor the poor and middle class as well. Now it seems the greed has run rampant and nobody is safe... nobody except the rich, that is. We have watched as professional liars spin information in a way that makes things sound good that are in fact bad, and convince the public to vote their own protections away.

The rich pull strings. They own media empires and manipulate the news in subtle ways. They make it seem like a criminal behavior, for example, that poor and hungry Mexicans have to cross America's borders to work for slave wages at terrible jobs no American wants, in order to save themselves and their families from starvation and death.

That's all that's really happening, you know. The stories being told of these people organizing to take American jobs away and destroy the country is pure spin. Did I say spin? I meant LIES.

The Mexicans are hungry and desperate, and that's it.

What's being told to us is the old bait and switch. The media only has to convince the nation that THIS is the problem, and the nation will focus all their energy on it, looking the wrong way while THAT happens to them, a much worse and more enduring thing which hurts the bulk of us, but benefits the wealthy manipulators of our society.

Or did you think your vote controlled things? Hang on while I laugh that off.

On Becoming a Hater

When we were kids, we loved to play. Other kid's hair, eye or skin color had no meaning-- they were unimportant. Regardless of their appearance, all they really were was another kid we could play with. So how did we grow up to become racists, then?

What, you don't think you're a racist?

Despite our finest of intentions, everyone SEES the physical differences between people. What they do with that information will determine how MUCH of a racist they are. You may not be an evil hating racist... but you're not color blind either. Every thought that goes through your mind is affected by what you see, even if you are trying to be equally fair. Every time you hear some piece of trivia about someone who was 'different', even though you might not believe it, the thought is floating around in your head somewhere, affecting your decisions in the oddest ways.

But fear not. You did not evolve into a racist on your own.

I bet you didn't know that somebody else made you a racist. It's true! Thousands of little comments, many of them wrong and dangerous, coming from the people around you and entering your little ears during the formative time of your life, affecting the decisions you make forever!

Who would did this to you? WHY would they do it? Well, they do it without realizing it, and with the best of intentions, no less, so often it could be the people who love you the most that pollute your mind with these poisoned thoughts. So, who was the one in YOUR life? Was it your mother or father? An uncle, a friend, a teacher?

The chain doesn't begin with them, usually. Whom do you think THEY learned those behaviors from? Racism usually starts over a misunderstanding or an argument, and alcohol is very often involved. Someone gets hurt, and in the blink of an eye you've got a Hatfield-McCoy brawl happening. It could start as simply as that, but ending racism never happens that quickly.

The easiest way to end racism is to lock two opposing racists in a room... with snacks. Do this with every racist. Don't bother them, and don't let them out, until... actually, don't let them out at all. And there you go... the end of racism!

Well, that's ONE way. I was actually just going for the 'let them get to know each other on a firsthand basis until they see how silly racism is' method, but the other one was funnier.

This post isn't meant to ease the racial divide... just to shine light on the fact that the racial divide MAKES NO SENSE whatsoever. It shouldn't exist. It's a tribal instinct, one which once protected our vulnerable descendants from the unknown. We are no longer vulnerable and this behavior should be behind us. Those of us who live in cities, among people of all nations and races and religions and who are immersed in the melting pot and revel in it knows that there is beauty in EVERY human if allowed to blossom, and that's where the focus needs to be... on the positive. Focusing on the negative is what fear dictates. Fear should have no place in directing the progress of a society-- we know this to be true simply by having watched the absurd backflips of the Bush administration following the attacks of September 2001.

Check your shoes with your luggage, dears! Aw hell... just embark naked.

But despite the humorous fear mongering coming from the Daily Show camp, the media has been busy making not-so-subtle changes to our televised programming. By watching both scripted programming and commercials, I can see a marked increase in the number of bi-racial and gay couples being shown. Not only are couples appearing, but the incidence of contact has risen dramatically, including hugs, kisses and passionate kisses. In some comedy forums gay couples fondle suggestively as well.

Yay! Welcome to the real world, TV!

I have noticed that in our television culture, those things which are shown as acceptable on programs are more likely to become accepted in the general public. Now, I don't know whether I'm looking at the chicken or the egg... in other words, which is following which... but it doesn't matter. The fact that it is happening at all is hopeful. I don't want to shove any behavior down anybody's throat, but we have been allowing straight couples to hug and kiss on TV for years, so other legitimate couples should be able to as well, without raising an eyebrow.

Getting back to demographics... if the number of gay people in the US rose above 50%, would we fear that we were being taken over?

Maybe-- but only if they voted in a new national anthem sung by Bette Midler.

Hee, hee. Had to throw a joke in there, although I'll bet some of you are composing the lyrics right now...

I have maintained that ALL people, be they gay or straight (or bi), are not just emotionally male or female, but rather a lopsided mixture of both kinds of emotional characteristics. For men, call it the feminine side. Not to worry, homophobes-- even the most macho man has one. It could be as innocuous as a love of tearjerker movies. Rosey Grier, famous footballer from the 70's, loved to spend his off-hours at home with his wife and kids, knitting. Would you call that gay? Neither would I.

When the male-female mixture of any person is close to 50-50 and they think warmly about bedding down with another person, it could be ANY other person, of either sex. At a 50-50 mix, you are likely bisexual. When the numbers are weighted more heavily to your opposite sex, you are most likely gay.

Once again... I speak out my ass... I have no research... it just SEEMS that way after watching people intently over years. But as we all know, personal observation alone is lousy scientific method. So, to any student in the field of sexual research reading this, I think it would be a valuable study-- hell, make it your doctoral thesis, and don't forget to cite the Perfect World blog as an inspiration when you do. Shameless self promotion... check.

But what happens when the number of bi-RACIAL couples exceeds 50%? With marriage comes children, and children of bi-racial couples are an entirely new subculture... one which is literally evident in their faces. It is a new ethnicity, and one which throws all the careful studies off. Another fact I love! If I were a religious man I would say that mixing races was what the big guy had planned right from the beginning. Why do I say that?

Beauty.

Haven't you noticed that the incidence of beautiful people rises with dual ethnicity? The list of beautiful bi-racial people is long and growing. Start with our current president. Not an unattractive man by any stretch (although, what's with those EARS?!) Barak Obama had one white and one black parent. Here are some other people who are ethnically mixed:

Halle Berry. Vanessa Williams. Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson. Tiger Woods. Alicia Keys. Lena Horne. Derek Jeter. Bob Marley. Eartha Kitt. Freddie Prinze Jr. Jasmine Guy. Lenny Kravitz. Jimi Hendrix. Lisa Bonet. Malcolm X. Mariah Carey. Mario Van Peeples. Maya Rudolph. Philip Michael Thomas. Rainn Pryor. Rae Dawn Chong. Rosario Dawson. Sadé. Vin Diesel. Paula Abdul. Kim Basinger. Kate Beckinsale. Benjamin Bratt. Jennifer Beals.

WHO says mixing races is a bad thing? If you mix every color of paint together, you end up with a nice, dark tan... that would be true with people, too. And there's no worry about sun damage.

Now before this post takes on yet another entirely new topic, let's bring it home. The essence of my point today is this: We're not actually racists, because we don't fear other races and we don't hate other nationalities-- we only think we do. But in truth, what we all hate (and fear) is:

The unknown and the different.

We hate change. Our routines are comfortable to us. The thought of changing it, or introducing unknown quantities into our lives causes anxiety. We fear we may be hurt by it. In other words, we just don't know.

Treading about the roots of "I Don't Know" is our survival instinct, which warns us emotionally when we are about to step into uncertain territory. Our survival instinct knows that there may be danger hidden in places we have not been to before, and cautions us against entering it. That goes for relationships as well as mine fields.

And that level of caution is the sliding scale that determines how willing we are to take risks. The greater the risk someone is willing to take, the better their chances of learning new and valuable information to help them later in life... or even right then. It can be a good thing.

Survival instinct is on one end and keeps us safe. On the other end is greed, which doesn't care about safety; it only cares about acquisition. Stay on the left end of the sliding scale and you'll be so safe you'll never leave the house. Slide it over to the other end and you'll play Russian roulette for the cash payouts.

Again, it comes down to balance. The wisest person finds a balance in their life, to create a life well lived.

Copyright 2009 Bruce Ian Friedman