“Date: July 7th, 2131, Time: 0530 hours, Wake up 70k82sky,” an almost cheerful mechanical voice announced. Skye groaned in her sleep and rolled over to face the clock.
“Five more minutes?” she pleaded pointlessly, hoping that for once the machine would be merciful.
“0531 hours, wake up 70k82sky,” the machine said loudly, sounding more annoyed. Skye glared at the oblivious clock.
“Fine, you want me to wake up? I’ll wake up,” she lied, grabbing the alarm clock and opening the battery compartment exposing two stripped wires poking out of the plastic.
“do not attempt to reconfigure my syste-“
Touching the two ends of the wires, she short circuited the machine, effectively erasing its memory of the past half hour and giving her a few more minutes of precious sleep. She fell back onto the bed, pulling the covers back over her.
“Systems resetting.” The clock announced after a few minutes, finally recovering from its affliction. Skye jumped up, putting on her daily uniform before the clock had a chance to regain its sensor functions.
“System reset complete. 0546 hours, apologies for the malfunction 70k82sky, error was a result of power overload. You will not be reprimanded,” the machine chirped apologetically.
“Why thank you,” Skye curtsied sarcastically, “I was already up.” The clock, satisfied, sent a malfunction report to the government run Sleep Center in Washington D.C. and then lay dormant, ready for the next morning.
Walking over to her computerized attendant, Skye activated her assigned servant, C.L.A.R.I.S.S.E., or Conformable Life Attendant Robot In Suburban Setting Experiment.
“C.L.A.R.I.S.S.E., activate routine Gamma.”
The lifelike robot raised its head, a bright smile plastered on its face. “Good morning Skye, would you to review your plans for today?” the machine asked, simultaneously sending instructions to the automated kitchen, which sprung to life making breakfast. Almost immediately the scent of synthesized, nutritionally enhanced pancakes and the chemical equivalent of eggs began to fill the air.
“Sure,” Skye agreed, then, smelling the repugnant chemicals that were supposed to provide her with ‘optimal nourishment’ she hurriedly told the kitchen “Nourishment supplement will be provided elsewhere, delete command epsilon.” The computer beeped, accepting the preprogrammed response. Mechanical spiders darted across the floor towards the kitchen, racing to clean up the half-made breakfast. Humanity may have created artificial intelligence, but as shown in “Ozymandias,” they couldn't replicate nature, which would endure long after them.
“GEMU: General Education Mind Upload at 0615 hours, Archive open at 0700 hours, weekly efficiency test at 1500 hours, summary of-“
“End review” Skye interrupted realizing she was late for school. Not that she cared, GEMU only gives your brain facts and numbers, it doesn’t program you to use that knowledge. The system seemed similar to “2081,” a short story. The tale took place in a society where equality was not only enforced, but regulated to the point that the intelligent, strong or agile were handicapped.
“Computer, activate GEMU sequence theta kai.” the computer beeped, acknowledging the command. Skye was frozen still as the mind link established a connection and gave her the basic knowledge for the day.
After a few minutes, the mind link vanished and Skye was able to move again. She thought over the trivial information, which included basic algebra, a speech on nationality given by the monarch last night, and daily gossip. As always, Skye was unimpressed with the diminutive amount of information. Surely the government had more knowledge than that. Perhaps they just felt the need to discourage any significant knowledge in order to create a Utopian society like in Fahrenheit 451. However, like Clarisse in the book, Skye wasn't fooled by the simplicity of their society. She remembered a book she had illegally read the other day, which detailed how cautious and overly wary the government was. The author, Cory Doctorow, gave an example asking, “What if I got hit by lightning while walking with an umbrella? Ban umbrellas! Fight the menace of lightning!”(96).
“Oh well,” Skye sighed to herself, “The secrets of this earth are not for all men to see, but only for those who will seek them”(52), she quoted from Anthem. With that, she grabbed her backpack, and announced, “Computer, transport to Archive.” Skye closed her eyes as the familiar nausea of transport washed over her. As the ground seemed to stabilize under her feet, she opened her eyes to find herself outside the Archive. Walking up to the door, Skye waved her wrist in front of the sensor, showing it her barcode tattoo as identification. The door unlocked and she slipped inside noiselessly. She made her way to the back of the old, musty warehouse towards the restricted sections.
These sectioned contained works that the government deemed dangerous to society, but still great literature, so they hid them away, claiming it was for the benefit of society, but if no one could read them, what was the point?
Skye had always related books to people. Both contained fascinating information, but only if you were able to read or access that information then knowing the person or reading the book would be worthwhile. Like Antigone thought about her brother, Skye knew that people and books should be held in the highest esteem. even if the ending sucks, you don't throw it away onto some hillside and forbid anyone from reading it. Like Antigone, she would fight for any disgraced book, even if it meant sneaking into the restricted area to read them all just to spite the censored society.
Walking down Aisle 36 Alpha, Skye skimmed the titles of the great works hidden there. Once, she had found an entire section devoted to Shakespeare. Skye ran her fingers across the books, leaving a line absent of the thick dust that had permeated the warehouse for as long as she could remember. Walking silently through this tomb-like place, she recalled a quote eerily similar to her ideas, “For hundreds of years, the human race has dreamt of a world where knowledge could be shared universally, where every human being on the planet could have access to our storehouse of knowledge. Because knowledge is power, and shared knowledge is a superpower. Now, after centuries, we have it within our grasp to realize one of our most beautiful dreams,”(Doctorow 147) .
Skye reached her destination, Aisle 37 Alpha, the beginning of the home of the best science fiction literature in the world. Skimming the books she felt pressured to choose a good one. After all, it would take more than three lifetimes just to read the fiction section alone. She had to choose wisely.
Her eyes drifted to a red file on top of the enormous shelf. one dark red corner peeked out over the top, almost seeming to taunt her, you can’t read me. Skye smiled mischievously before grabbing a ladder. She placed it up against the shelf and climbed up, now eye level with the mysterious file. “Never underestimate the determination of a kid who is time-rich and cash-poor,” (87) Skye quoted from another of Cory Doctorow’s novels. Skye grabbed the file and balanced herself precariously on both the shelf and the ladder. The File read: Classified Documents, Project Propaganda. Intrigued, Skye opened the heavy file. The first page, if set to some macabre photo, seemed to be propaganda in itself. It said simply that “Stories are propaganda, virii that slide past your critical immune system and insert themselves directly into your emotions.”
Laughing at the false statement, Skye lost her balance on the ladder and dropped the file. The ladder wavered then fell, seeming to clang against the concrete floor in an impossibly loud manner. Hanging by her fingertips, Skye looked for something she could hang onto before she slipped and possibly broke her legs fifteen feet below. The edge of one of the shelves below her seemed to have a well worn grip.
Letting go of the shelf with one hand, she reached towards the inviting handle, and dropped an inch before holding onto the perfectly hand shaped grip. suddenly, her grip slipped for a moment as her clenched hand accidentally shifted the metal impossibly to the left. She let go, afraid it was unstable and slowly clambered back to the ground. Suddenly, all around her, Skye hear the clicking of gears as a wall next to her revealed a staircase leading downwards. Skye looked down the black hole but couldn't see anything.
Then, deciding to succumb to her inquisitive nature, she picked up the red file and its scatter papers, stacking them neatly, before blindly reaching out to the railing of the staircase and silently journeyed downward. After a few minutes, she could detect a small glow coming from below her. Hurrying, she took the stairs two at a time. Reaching a door way she could hear voices, whispering together. she peeked out from the doorway and saw the remnants of an old sewer system. It seemed to have been repurposed, with modern lights and computer terminals every few hundred feet.. Every four square feet was someone muttering with their eyes closed. Skye realized, it must be a mind upload, but on a massive scale. There must have been thousands of people there, from almost every age and ethnicity. Walking over to one of the terminals, Skye looked at what they were uploading.
It was books, both fiction and not, all from the restricted sections. Thousands of people saving thousands of books. Skye took a step back realizing that this was the Conscientia, which was Latin for knowledge. It was mentioned briefly in her GEMU a few years ago. Skye smiled, realizing that the chaotic rebel force she was told about was a group of scholars, like her, who wanted to learn. Suddenly the ground shook and the mind link vanished as people blinked, stepping out of stasis confused.
Looking around, Skye saw a friend of hers, the archivist, who was nicknamed Seshat for the Egyptian goddess of wisdom, knowledge and writing. She was the main caretaker in charge of the maintenance and care of the world’s knowledge, both forbidden and not. However, in recent years the Archive was struggling to stay alive. It seemed that with each passing day, less and less people sought the information hidden within its walls. Though now it seems those visiting population records were tampered with.
Seshat quickly walked over to the computer terminal, both rage and fear on her face, “What are you doing here Skye? You aren't supposed to remember this, we took every precaution.”Seshat asked, her fear masking her anger.
“Wait, what do you mean remember? I was here before?”
“Yes, but it’s complicated, the World Council was watching you so we erased your memory of the Conscientia so that they could interrogate you. They are probably still watching, you need to get out of here.”
“No, I always check, there was no one following me, you know that I mask my teleport trail. Did my presence cause the shutdown?” Skye assured her, her memory slowly returning.
“No, its just been a little finicky lately,” she sighed.
“Maybe I can fix it.” Skye looked back at the computer screen trying to figure out what had interrupted them. She studied the advance software and saw not a zero or one out of place, her arrival had not stopped the uploading process. As she dove deeper into the software, she recognized a string of code. Skye had used it on many occasions to infiltrate networks and play pranks, though she got the idea from the government. “It looks like we have company.”
“We need an emergency evacuation right now!”
“No can do, they've blocked off my access and sealed the building,” Skye’s fingers flew across the terminal, trying desperately to get everyone out, but to no avail.
Suddenly, the ground shook once more and Skye heard the familiar pop of transporters as hundreds of government enforcers armed with tazer rifles and riot shields.
A voice blared over the intercom, “This is an unlawful gathering, Conscientia members, you humanity has been revoked. Please wait to be processed, your memories and undesirable traits will be deleted. At that point the government may choose to either terminate you or reinstate your humanity. Thank you for your cooperation.”
The next few hours flew by in a blur. Unarmed, the scholars had no choice but to comply to the Enforcer’s demands. A few demanded to see a lawyer, they insisted that their rights were being violated. The guards only stared blankly at them, every once in a while responding, “Your designated humanity has been revoked, you have no rights.”
One by one, they were injected with tranquilizers and the last thing Skye remembered was struggling to get away from two guards, and one hit her over the head.
The next morning Skye woke up in her bed.
“Date: July 8th, 2131, Time: 0530 hours, Wake up 70k82sky,” an annoyingly familiar voice announced. Skye groaned in her sleep, the pain from the previous day becoming sharper as she woke up. But what was that pain from? As she tried to remember, another sharp pain coursed through her skull. She remembered now, she had tripped and hit her head yesterday when she had tried to reach a book on a shelf. Everything after that was fuzzy, like she wasn't supposed to remember. So she stopped trying.
She rolled over to face the clock, and stood up. The clock’s sensors scaned her, measuring her temperature and brain activity so it could determine if she was truly awake. Satisfied, it turned itself off, ready for the next morning. Robotically, she got dressed and ate her chemically enhanced blueberry pancakes, then waited for the GEMU to upload, which, today, included an article about the assimilation of an unpatriotic rebel group. The United Federations now had 5.6 million new compliant citizens.
“Good, for them, they can now start their new productive life with their designated humanity.” Skye chirped cheerfully to herself. All was right with the world, as long as you weren't too curious.