Friday, April 20, 2007

What might lie ahead

I was afraid for her very lifeline. She didn’t have the experience to know that it wasn't evolved to leave home in this manner, but there was no way I could convince her otherwise. It all began when I caught my daughter One-Anne sneaking out of the home. Well, she wasn’t exactly sneaking, but she was hoping that I wouldn’t notice when she raised the front door. I had been keeping a close eye on her, because I had sensed a fundamental shift in her life philosophy in the last year or so, and I knew that a confrontation was brewing.


"Where do you think you’re going, Young-Anne?" I tried to soften that Unit-One-tone by calling her by her childhood nickname.


"I’m going to meet my friends," came the expected reply.


"Oh. Who all is going to be there?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.


"Just my friends," came the answer.


She knew I was probing: I wanted to find out if she was seeing those kids in that awful group. We had an agreement that she wouldn’t assemble with them, but I knew better. All the signs were there. And even by asking, I was taking a big chance that I was breaking the privacy laws. After all, she was 15. I summoned my courage and asked anyway.


"Are they necced?" I asked. Her face turned red, and she nodded. "Oh, Young-Anne! Not again? How could you do this to me?"


"Ma, I’m sorry, but you just don’t understand neccedness."


"First of all, don’t call me Ma. You know that’s degrading. And maybe if you took the time to tell me about neccedness…all I know is what I’ve read on my screen. And I want you to know that it scares the chips out of me. Is it really being totally nonconnected?"


"Yes, but it’s no big deal. It’s just about freedom. I believe in leaving my responder home once in awhile. I even feel better because I can look up. I saw a tree last week, and it was beautiful- so natural!"


"But if you don’t have your responder, how can I reach you? What if there’s an alert? What if one of our brilliant neighbors has a spill they can’t contain? How could I tell you to put on your suit?"


"Mother! You worry too much! I’ll be fine."


"How are you going to meet a nice male if you don’t have your responder? You wouldn’t…"


"Introduce myself and shake hands? Yes, Unit One, I might shake hands. You should try it some time. It feels so good, just hand touching hand."


Now it was my turn to blush. "I’ve lived this long without touching a stranger, and I don’t intend to start any time soon. You just have no idea how you are putting yourself and our whole line at risk!"


"Risk for what, Mother? Have you ever known anyone who passed? Look at 4GP! He’s an Original, and you taught me that Originals never die!"


"I know, I know. But sometimes I wonder when he rambles on about driving ‘cars’ and riding ‘horses’ and such. Haven’t you noticed that he’s not a very good hover operator? And that’s what I worry about. What if some 4GP decides to leave his flow lane? What if he or a 3GP were hit by a puff of wind? You could be aching for years if you are in an impact zone! And I just worry that you’ll bring home an enzyme from a stranger that might make us all pass."


"Oh, this is about tatts again, isn’t it? I told you, Mother, that I refuse any more tatts. It’s barbaric. How can you cover up your skin with so many colors? What’s wrong with going clear?"


"You know perfectly well that tattoos are meant to protect you. No self-adoring daughter of mine will go tattless. There are anti-enzymes and inoculations that you receive from tatts that are essential. We’ve gone over this before. I worry every time you step outside the port that someone will notice you don’t have your mandatory tattoos! You could be detained and sedated. And if that happens, I’m not hiring a professional. You’ll take whatever ugly thing you get from the public tattist."


"That’s just a risk I’m willing to take. I didn’t want to tell you this, but the code of neccedness has become part of me. I’ve had it imported into my DNA. I can’t go back. I’m going to live free- without a responder, without tats, and even without mandatory piercings. I’m sorry, Unit One, dear Mother. I know that you hoped I would give myself to evolving as you have, but I’m going back to the philosophy of the 20th Century."


Up to that point in the conversation, I had hoped that neccedness was just a phase, that she would grow out of her "natural" fascination, and carry on our highly respected line. But now I understood that she was always going to be different. She was what they called a dreamer, and she had a propensity for high-risk behavior.


"What will I tell Unit One-A?" I asked. "He will be devastated. And all of the GPs! You have to tell all of the line: the Grandparents, the 1-Greats, 2-Greats, all the way back to Original GP. I refuse to have this conversation with him. It might make him think he’s having memories."


Much to my surprise, Young-Anne told me that she had already talked to Original GP, and that he was happy to hear she was going necced. I should have known. Original GP told some ridiculous tales about things like dating, hiking, cooking, and going to something called "church." Most thought he was making them up, but some in our line said that his voice had the sound of one remembering. Personally, I thought he just had an acting gene implanted. Maybe I was wrong.


I never thought I would have a child who would refuse the simple conventions of life like tattoos, responders, and news screens. I don’t want my friends to know that I have failed to instill my values in my One-Anne. I don’t want them to know she is not connected anymore, that she has embraced neccedness. Next thing you know she’ll be talking about being connected to "God." Guess I’ll just have to cross that span when I get to it.

3 comments:

Unknown said...

WOW! Lots to think about here. Obviously you've not been just sitting at the big table; you've been thinking - creatively! Thanks...

Anonymous said...

Another WOW! That was fascinating, Patti. Back in the day, as a senior in high school, I used to write poems and prose about living in the far future, about going to museums to see trees. You're good at this... ever think about writing a book of fiction?
BTW-any word yet on when the get together will be for us all to meet you? :-)
-Jean

Anonymous said...

That was really a thoughtful fun piece. Keep on writing as I enjoy reading your works.
Vivian