by Jim Stark
She'd had her Netstation transferred out there too—a wonderful convenience—even though these accommodations were much smaller than “Boss spot.” And this transition-assist session was to be bumped electronically from the CQ Center to the MIU in her new sleepery. (The CQ Center was the former C.Q.E.S.—Consciousness Quotient Evaluation Service—before the aspect of “transition-assistance” was added.) And since it would be a “blind” link, she thought she'd do it naked. No real reason why not, she told herself, and if they ask, I'll tell them. With the voice alteration, they won't even know if I'm a man or a woman anyway unless I tell them, which I just may do straight off the top. She made her way to her MIU and sat on her soft chair, ready to begin, if not exactly eager.
"Net, up, now; CQ Center; blind link ... I'm ready if they are. Call me ‘Rudolph’ on screen, okay?"
"Good evening, Annette,” came the voice of the young CQ coordinator. “The couple you've been assigned is standing by, blind. You ready to fly?"
"Can't fly alone,” quipped Annette, letting more of her irritation show than she had intended. “Go ahead with the link."
Her vertically divided screen lit up with two cartooned smiley-faces, one subtitled “Louise” and one “Igor"—fake names, chosen at random, Annette knew. “Are you—uh—okay with the name Igor?” she asked the icon on the right.
"Sure, why not?” said a distorted voice as the Igor smiley-face lit up, indicating who was talking. “I've been called worse than that."
At least he's got a sense of humor, thought Annette. “And how are you, Louise?” she asked.
"Human Three,” said a raspy voice as the other icon lit up. “For quite a while,” she added. “My husband and I have lots of reasons to save our marriage, but that's not my goal here, just my preferred outcome. I mostly want to help Igor ... do I have to call him that? ... I guess I do ... anyway, I love this man, and I'll do anything I can to help him through transition, and I'll gladly withdraw if I'm not being helpful. He says he's okay with this three-way format, in fact he says he wants it this way, but he's pretty much new to this thing, and—"
"Can I get a word in edgewise?” interrupted Igor.
"We've got the rest of our lives,” said Rudolph/Annette. She looked down at her nude body and wondered again how long that would be for her. “Go ahead, Igor."
"I'd like to confirm that—uh—I can go one-on-one with you or with—uh—Louise, whenever I want, eh?” asked the male smiley-face.
"Of course,” said Rudolph/Annette.
"Good,” said Igor. “So ... can I start by asking you to sort of describe ... you know ... what it was like for you—uh—Rudolph?"
Annette realized she didn't like being called by a man's name, or the name of a red-nosed reindeer, for that matter, but it was she who'd made that decision, so she couldn't very well complain about it. Igor had gotten off to a fairly good start, but it was a passive approach that put the first burden on her. Oh well, she thought, there are no rules for this.
"This is not a fool's paradise,” she began. “The biggest moment for me was when I realized that Human Three Consciousness wasn't like the fictional state of grace or bliss that the Godists talk about, but a real thing, as real as Human One or Two Consciousness, which, as you know, are extremely real. You can't fake Human Three Consciousness any more than a child can fake being an adult. And ... you can't trick yourself into it ... and you can't do it for somebody else. You have to do it first and foremost for yourself, and for your own good reasons.
"It's...” She found it hard to reduce Human Three Consciousness to a few words that would be readily understood by any Human Two. “It's like ... in the past, I guess for all of history before the twenty-first century—” She checked herself, and started again from another angle. “I'm—uh—told you're not a Godist, Igor..."
"No,” said Igor.
"Is anyone any more?” said Louise.
"Yes,” said Igor, with a caustic edge to his voice.
"Sorry, honey,” said Louise. “Go on—uh—Rudolph."
"Well, as I was saying, in the past,” Rudolph/Annette continued, “sexual awakening used to be the defining moment in a person's life. Of course even before puberty comes the slow road from Human One to Human Two, the natural process by which a new baby stops reacting solely by instinct and gradually learns to use his or her emerging brain in determining its actions, words and reactions. But one's sexual awakening was like a huge epiphany, the biological right of passage that eclipses all else and caps one's growth from child to adult. I would say that that experience, as powerful as it is, looks timid and small compared to the transition from Human Two to Human Three.
"Personally, I found the process of transition rather difficult ... much more difficult than puberty, but as much fun, or more, than anything else I've ever experienced. Maybe it's even more fun to become Human Three than it is to be it. In the end, it's about ... it's about identity. Who are you? Who could you be? What is life anyway?"
Annette stopped there, wondering if she had perhaps plowed through the conceptual cosmos too far, or too quickly. “You ... still with me, Igor?"
"Why'd you ask me?” he said, a bit defensively.
"Tilt!” admitted Rudolph/Annette, with a laugh. “Are you both with me so far?"
"Yes."
"Yeah."
Annette believed them. The problem wasn't them keeping up with her, it was her not knowing exactly how to proceed from here. There were a lot of doors into that room; that was what faced the administrator of Victor-E. A rather awkward silence followed ... well, awkward for Igor, she imagined. Annette enjoyed the drifting-off thing, taking time for her thoughts and feelings to dance her towards a creative renewal of the contact ... but ... Human Twos aren't as—
"So you're going to pass on the secret of life to me?” interjected Igor in the middle of her silence. “Isn't that a bit—"
"Well, talking about the meaning of life is ... tricky,” Rudolph/Annette conceded. “I think sometimes life is best put into context by talking about its absence,” she tried.
"Death?” asked Louise's icon. “Gee, I never did that one. Have a go at it, Rudolph."
"Sure,” chimed in Igor's icon. “I'd like you to ... or rather I think it might help me to understand."
TTH, thought Annette. It was her private shorthand for “trying too hard” ... the bane of writers, actors, and wannabe Human Threes. “Well,” she began carefully, “it's a given that we know nothing about death other than it's a word we assign to the end of life. But I actually had an N.D.E. once, many years ago, and I—"
"N.D.E.?” asked Louise.
"Near-death experience,” explained Rudolph/Annette. “Back then, the physiology of the phenomenon was still being debated, and wasn't fully understood, and a lot of people thought that those who had this experience were actually getting a sneak preview of a heaven, or of God. That's what I thought at the time, and it was a powerful metaphor for an experience that really defies description. ‘Pure joy, total love’ ... that's how people have often tried to describe it, but it was much bigger, and far more glorious than those words indicate—sort of orgasm times a billion. We now understand scientifically that it's really a mix of endorphins and neurons firing randomly and frantically in the dying brain, an instinctive defense mechanism, presumably designed into us to ease the pain of death or actually fend off the dying process ... but whatever the explanation, we now know two things. An N.D.E. is not a glimpse of any kind of afterlife; however, it is an indicator of how good a human being can feel without the aid of a drug or a belief system, by which I mean a religious belief system.
"I guess I'd have to say that acquiring Human Three Consciousness is ultimately very selfish, self-serving ... maybe even a Human Two thing to do, ironically! As a person in transition, your waking hours are spent avoiding Human Two angst, and directing your internal experience of every moment in the direction of the feelings one gets in an N.D.E. Now personally, I've never come close to recreating
the actual N.D.E. experience, and I think I have an advantage over people insofar as I've ‘been-there-and-done-that.’ I have been privileged to know the upper limit of what it can feel like to be alive, so of course I use my rational mind to keep myself pointed that-a-way all the time ... except when I forget, of course, and that happens ... a lot. There are behaviors, like chores, especially chores, that I used to avoid in the past because they were not intrinsically fun, or because I was forced to do them to survive financially, but I now do them with pleasure because I know rationally what they mean, how they serve to keep me from feeling low, and how they serve to make me feel ... ‘high,’ I guess you'd have to say, but not in the sense of a drug high or a so-called religious experience ... ‘high’ in the sense of ‘I'm-not-so-sure-I-could-possibly-like-life-or-like-myself-any-better-than-I-already-do,’ if you know what I mean."
Annette was frustrated that she couldn't see her clients, and erased that feeling by realizing anew that doing this CQ-assistance thing blind was both instructive and quite interesting. She found herself guessing at the body language and the facial expressions of the couple she was serving ... or loving, she redefined her assignment. Subtle non-verbal reactions often play a big role in shaping the direction and tone of a presentation, she considered, and without that kind of feedback, the conversation is ... what? ... more of a rational thing, perhaps?
"So that's where this new SST thing comes into play?” asked Louise of the CQ guide.
"What?” asked Igor.
"'SST’ stands for ‘Social Service Terminal,'” said Louise, “that phase two Evolution thing I told you about."
"Oh yeah,” said Rudolph/Annette, in response to the original question. “Are you up to speed on that, Igor?” she asked.
"To be honest,” said the male icon on Annette's screen, “I haven't paid a whole lot of attention to that sort of stuff lately, or anything else, for that matter. I sort of—uh—cut myself off from everything and everybody for the last month. I went through a kind of a—uh—personal disaster—I'll get to that later, I suppose—but I haven't used an MIU or even talked to anyone for quite a while. I ... we got this little—uh—place that I went to, holed up in, and I guess I kind of wasted a month of my life—you'll get a kick out of this I guess, Rudolph—I wasted a month of my life feeling rotten! I wallowed in it ... until Louise came out and sort of slapped me around ... well, figuratively, or psychologically. I realized she was right and ... now here I am, talking to you about transition, woefully ignorant of the doings of the planet since late March. So, I'm afraid I didn't even know what ‘SST’ stood for until yesterday, when—uh—Louise tried to explain it. I thought it stood for ‘supersonic transport.’”
Annette generally detested having to re-chew yesterday's dinner, but with her Human Three mind reluctantly called to duty, she pushed herself to re-situate the requirement in a positive light. Here was an opportunity to summarize the incredible “phase 2” plan that Victor Helliwell had initiated at the Diefenbunker, and which now had been adopted by more than half of the Evolutionary clans in the world—well, virtually all of the clans, but only a bit more than half of the individual Evolutionaries in the clans. And now she had some hard realities to point to, not just the idea-set that they'd started with a month ago.
"Well, as you now know, ‘SST’ also stands for ‘Social Service Terminal,'” she said to Igor. “Evolution used to be sort of bi-polar—well, some of the movement still is, but most of us have moved on. We had our work, which we called the ‘Productive Terminal,’ and we had our leisure time—you know, sleeping, eating, body functions, entertainment, fun, sports, sex, all that stuff—which we called the ‘Living Terminal,’ stuff that usually happened in the life-base, as we call it ... those big Pliesterine bubbles and the sleeperies, you know? And I'm sure you're familiar with the phase one economic model, the way it used to be for all of Evolution, where everybody had to work hard and save at least forty percent of their income and invest it in guaranteed financial instruments like Treasury Bills, Canada or Québec savings bonds, GICs, that sort of thing. That idea can be traced back to a twentieth-century book called The Wealthy Barber. We just kind of pushed it to the extreme. We economized on everything and shared material things and spaces in all sorts of ways in order to meet this goal, and the reward was that after thirteen or fourteen years of productive work, most Evolutionaries had enough of a nest-egg to retire on ... if they wanted to ... and if they kept living in Evolution, of course, where the cost of living is about a third of what it is in the outside world, living as a Normal.
"So ... with this phase two thing we got going now, we have to give at least half of our ongoing savings to these new SSTs. As a result, we save less for our own retirements. It's estimated that on average, an Evolutionary would now have to work for twenty or twenty-one years before he or she could retire. In reality, it'll likely turn out to be more like eighteen or nineteen years, because all SSTs are registered charities, so the money I give to them, for instance, produces a nice tax deduction, so my savings actually amount to considerably more than half of what they used to be.
"In any event, we also have to work an additional three hours a week in an SST, so that we get a hands-on feel for what our donations are actually doing—you'll see why in a minute. In fact, my time with you today is part of my own voluntary SST work.
"So ... getting back to the new money arrangement and the point of it all...” Annette stopped for breath, and to review how she was doing, and where she was going, and why she was doing all the talking.
"So,” interjected Louise, with no prompting, and no objection from Rudolph/Annette, “Evolution accepts that everyone's first duty is to cope with their own survival, which is expected to use up the first sixty percent of their net incomes. After that, the rest of their money, well, that's split right down the middle—half to yourself, to save up for your own retirement, and half to the SSTs, which are set up to provide whatever services are most needed by the surrounding community. Normals need day care for their kids? There it is, supplied free of charge by phase-two Evolutionaries. In fact the decisions about how this SST money is used are taken by the users of the services, and not by the Evolutionaries whose money it is ... or was. Normals have to set up SST committees to decide what is most needed, and that way we're quite sure that the SSTs are meeting the actual needs of the Normal community. How am I doing—uh—Rudolph?"
"Jeeze, carry on, Louise!"
"But,” continued the female icon, “the biggest bonus of all this is not for the Normals who receive the benefits of the SSTs, the people who need the SSTs. The biggest reward is for the Human Threes who are supplying these services. After taking care of their own needs, they know that all of their surplus money has two equal meanings in material fact. Half of the meaning is the bringing of pleasure and security and free time to the self, at a later point in time, and the other half of the meaning is a significant material betterment of the human condition. In religious terms, we're ‘loving our neighbor as ourselves,’ or ‘doing unto others as we would have them do unto us.'
"That's why those Jesus-Eers are more convinced than ever that Victor is the Second Coming of Christ. They're calling this phase two Evolutionism ‘Christian economics,’ because it takes the ethos of Christianity and materializes it, converts the Golden Rule or the second Great Commandment from once-a-week platitudes into a viable and workable economic model. ‘We are what we do,’ is what Victor said. The Jesus-Eers even say that if you live as a phase two Evolutionaries, then you are a Christian, and if you do not live that way, then you're not ... like it's sort of an acid test.
"Of course that's a load of doggie-doo...” Louise laughed at her own little jibe. “I ... don't suppose I care if people become Human Three for wrong reasons, but I'd say it's a lot more fun to do it for right reasons, and it has none of the dumb-assed limitations of religious beliefs. What counts is that by living this way, Evolutionaries know in material reality, and therefore in their conscio
usnesses, that every minute of work they do is an act of love—love for others—as much as it is an act of love for oneself ... see? It's ... well, I would say it's conditioned into us. So ... how did I do—uh—Rudolph?"
"Couldn't have said it any better,” said Rudolph/Annette. “In fact my being here right now, as I told you, is part of my volunteer SST work, part of my loving you ... whoever the hell you are. Even if this whole exercise goes swirling down the crapper with us all screaming at each other, I still benefit from it. It still acts as an effective and important event in terms of keeping my fragile consciousness on a Human Three level, and making me feel good as well. My money helped pay the costs of this service, and even if I fail as a CQ guide for you people, I will have tried my best, and as ... I think it was St. Thomas Aquinas who once said, ‘Do your best; the angels can do no more.’”
Annette had no idea why she'd used that religious reference to explain herself to her incognito clients. It just popped out, from somewhere in her past. Oh well, she thought, as long as he gets the point.
"Thanks,” said Igor.
"For ... what?” asked Rudolph/Annette.
"For loving me,” said Igor. “Unconditionally, like a dog does—no offense intended."
"None taken,” snickered Rudolph/Annette.
"Actually,” continued Igor, “I'm still a long way from grasping all this stuff and from making a personal decision about becoming a Human Three, but there is one little thing that I'd like—uh ... let me rephrase that. There's a small risk I'd like to take, or at least to suggest, that might—uh—facilitate our ... the process that—uh..."