Elysian Fields

by Gabriels, Anne

  “Ultimately, it’s our choice to believe whatever makes sense to us,” Mel continued. “I think that a soul such as mine, experiencing so much beauty and sorrow and pain and love cannot simply cease to exist at the moment of death. And if this is true, then I must have been created by something or someone immortal as well, probably in his image, because it was the best model to copy.” She smiled shyly, as if apologizing for speaking so much, something that was unusual for her.

  “You should know by now that the creation theory does not hold water,” Daniel insisted. “It’s no more real than the boogeyman. Every decent scientist will tell you that there’s ample proof that evolution has been going on for millions of years. The human soul is just wishful thinking. We are extraordinarily ordinary, if you’ll pardon my expression, there’s nothing special about any of us. We will die and the energy field around our brain will disappear, our thoughts will vanish and we will immerse in a great ocean of nothingness.”

  “Stop speaking to me like I’m a child,” countered Mel, her face becoming flushed. “First of all, I call it intelligent design, as well as creation theory, and it obviously implies an intelligent designer. You mock my faith, but what is your conviction if not faith? Your belief that things eventually change if given enough time over the course of billions of years, isn’t that just another kind of faith? The universal law of entropy implies destruction, not creation. Everything in nature mutates, doesn’t evolve, in my opinion. Tell me, if I drop a box with toothpicks on the floor, how many times do you think I would need to drop it before the toothpicks form your name, Daniel? Is a billion times enough? Or if I have all the components of a mechanical watch in a box, how many times should I shake it before it turns into a watch?”

  Daniel just stood there, taken aback, Mel’s passion seeming to make a very strong impression on him.

  “I wasn’t mocking you, and I’m sorry I upset you. It was just pure scientific debate.”

  “No, it was not just that. When we stop seeing the magic in the world, we are truly doomed, no better than a machine. That saddens me more than I can say.” She went inside, leaving them all without a chance to reply.

  “You didn’t need to be so mean,” Jules remarked. “She’s a sensitive girl.”

  “I noticed that,” Daniel muttered. “I care about her. We were just talking. It wasn’t a personal attack.”

  “But she took it very personally,” Jules continued. “And so do I. We’re not just talking about abstract things, we’re talking about how we feel about the world. We are trying to make sense of our existence. Without a moral compass, how do we know right from wrong? And who gives us the moral compass? Human beings change their opinions all the time. What was totally unacceptable a few decades ago has become the norm nowadays. Look what we’ve done with the clones. Maybe we need an absolute truth to guide us through life and only God can give us an absolute compass.”

  “Here we go again,” Daniel lamented. “Sorry, but this is how I feel.”

  “I don’t know about you guys,” Allan said, attempting to change the subject, “but since clones are human beings, as proven to us without a doubt, don’t you think it’s a great injustice done to them? I mean, to harvest them for their organs? Who gave us the right to choose who lives and who dies?”

  “That’s why I told you I couldn’t do it anymore,” Daniel raised his voice appealingly. “We had the technology to grow organ tissue; whole organs, without the need of a whole human being. When and why did we start to harvest our own kind?”

  “We should fight for the clones’ freedom!” Jules volunteered with great excitement.

  “Why not, let’s do it!” Allan found himself joining in her frenzy.

  “Do you really mean that? Are you willing to sacrifice your life to fight for this cause?” Lan seemed skeptical.

  “Why not?” Allan felt his belief getting stronger. “Lan, the fact that you and I met, it’s the chance of a lifetime, and I’m sorry you went through such an ordeal in order for that to happen. But you are alive and well now. I think we should stop developing clones and free the ones already in stasis.”

  “We can make things right,” Jules agreed, “we can have a purpose so that our lives are not in vain.”

  Allan felt the energy in the air at unbelievable high level. I can do something exceptional with my life. The realization struck him with intensity.

  “We’re just a bunch of young people with no real power,” Daniel’s voice brought them down to earth. “We have no weapons, no allies, just a lot of enthusiasm.”

  After a brief letdown, Allan felt his willpower resurface, his clear determination stronger than ever. “We have my father and his connections at Secure-IT. We’re smart and we have each other. Together we can accomplish something great. And if we fail, so be it. Our lives will have had a meaning beyond ourselves.”

  “When did you get so enthusiastic about life?” Daniel asked. “Just yesterday you were trying to get your life back without much concern for anything else.”

  “A few days ago I was just a kid playing a game. Today I have a father and a brother to fight for. And new friends who need me. Isn’t that enough?” said Allan defensively.

  “It’s more than that. You have guts and passion and a spirit of fairness. One day you’ll be a great leader.” Lan’s words surprised Allan more than anything. He knows me better than I do myself, thought Allan. It feels good to have a brother who believes in you.

  “Then there’s nothing to worry about. We’re in good hands,” Daniel’s bitter tone surprised Allan, but not for long, because he continued. “Sorry for the sarcasm. Why don’t we wait and discuss this with Tom and David? For what it’s worth, I’m in, and will do anything in my power to help.”

  “Are you sure about helping, Daniel? ‘Cause you don’t sound sure,” Jules remarked.

  “Sure I’m sure. I just thought we were getting way overboard with our expectations. I like to keep it real, and manageable, that’s all.”

  16

  A few days later, David came back to Tom’s house in the Scrappie compound. He had a carrier from which Daniel recovered a large family of mice, ready to be used for an experiment on the food.

  The two brothers went outside, and Daniel started to place the mice in two cages.

  “One cage will hold the mice who will be fed city food. We’ll call them city mice. The other one will hold the mice fed on grains and cheese. We’ll call them the country mice. It will take me a few weeks to determine the effect of the food on the two groups, if any. It’s the best I can do.”

  David looked at his brother. Daniel seemed glad to be engaged in something other than his books. How much I’d like you to come back with me, David thought, but he said nothing, because Daniel refused to talk about anything that involved him going back to the city.

  “What are you reading these days?” David asked.

  “The same stuff as before. All the books I found in an old house are science fiction ones. The owner must have been an avid sci-fi reader, but I think she or he was obsessed with dystopian societies.”

  “What’s dystopian?” Mel asked, coming outside to join the brothers, with Jules and Allan following her.

  “Dystopia is a bad society, a twisted world where people are oppressed and live in misery or in frightening conditions. Most of them don’t even realize their lives are not as they should be. It was used in stories of the future, written by people who were concerned about the way things were going in the world.”

  “At the opposite end, there is Utopia, a place where everything is just perfect, in an ideal state. I don’t think many people wanted to read about that. Where there’s no conflict, there’s no action, which makes for a poor plot for a book,” David commented. “Why your fascination with such books, Daniel?”

  “They got me thinking about our own society. Reading those books made me realize that we might live in such an altered world.”

  “The Elites would disagree with you,” Jules
intervened in a sad voice. “They live in Utopia.”

  “But they would be wrong,” Daniel explained. “Neither the Elites nor anybody else living here without knowledge of what’s going on could objectively consider our city a utopian or dystopian society. You see, it is hard to see the world with preconceived ideas when you are a part of the system. One has to go through a drastic transformation in order to do so, or get out of the system completely to better understand it.”

  “And this is what happened to all of us,” Allan completed Daniel’s idea. “We’re able to see how bad things are when faced with adversity.”

  “That’s right,” Daniel smiled in Allan’s direction. “I’m glad we think along the same lines. I think we live in one of the worst nightmares a mediocre science fiction writer could conceive.”

  “It could be worse. We could be tortured or something,” Mel exclaimed. “And why do you say a mediocre writer?”

  “Because there is no way out. A great writer would concoct a solution to this, an amazing way out, a bunch of heroes saving the world.”

  Allan approached and placed his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “Man, this is not a science-fiction book. It’s for real. Let’s find a way out by ourselves. Remember what we talked about last Sunday? There’s hope, my friend.”

  “Speaking of which, is Tom home?” David inquired. “I have some information I’d like to share with you all.”

  “He’s eating, just got home a short while ago,” Mel replied. They went inside to discuss the latest developments.

  “Regarding the entertainment connection,” said David, when everybody was seated in the large living room. “What’s been bothering me for the longest time is the ability of people to watch the Digiscreen endlessly, no matter what’s on. Being a software engineer, I’m involved quite a bit in game development, and I also collaborate with graphic artists and commercial developers.

  “As I promised you a few days ago, I talked to a couple of friends about the possible ways of influencing people’s minds. I told them that I was just curious, in light of our previous conversation on the subject.

  “They showed me some archived files on the matter, and we discussed at large the various ways the media manipulates our minds. The most powerful tool utilized was based on subliminal perception. It’s been around for quite a while and what I’ve found is that in the past it’s been used extensively in everything that involves communication of any kind.”

  “And what exactly is subliminal perception?” asked Mel.

  “Subliminal means "below threshold." Subliminal perception means perceiving without being really aware of it. It plays with your subconscious mind. For example, you really, really want to eat that particular food, but you don’t know why.”

  “So how does it work?”

  “It works based on very powerful motivators such as intense pleasure or fear. For example, sex is a very powerful stimulant, so the message in the ad you are watching could be laced with sexual symbols or images, and thus it becomes irresistible. I saw instances where the food was presented to the open mouth as if it was open to receive something else, not food.”

  “A phallus?”

  “You got it. Or the drink has foam in the shape of a naked, lascivious woman lying down.”

  “Are you kidding me? “

  “Not at all. I saw the old archived files. It started a century and a half ago with ads for soda drinks and popcorn. They made people love to eat popcorn during a movie, like we do even today, by using tachistoscopic displays.”

  “What’s that?” asked Jules.

  “A tachistoscope is a device that displays an image to show something too fast to be consciously recognized. Except that the subconscious mind takes notice. So they placed pictures of popcorn throughout the movie, one frame at a time, so fast that people couldn’t notice. Yet they felt an overwhelming urge to have some popcorn, which they began to purchase at hugely inflated prices. Such is the power of subliminal messaging. But they also play on the negative. The researchers studied what nightmares alcoholics have when they think of quitting drinking and they put those nightmares in the ads.”

  “What kind of nightmares?” Daniel asked.

  “Screaming faces, hidden or airbrushed in the foam or the ice of the drink, so that the alcoholics watching liquor commercials, though trying to resist buying, would keep doing just that, drinking for fear that their nightmares would come true. Anyway, there are other subliminal strategies, such as figure-ground reversals, embedding, double entendre, low-intensity light and low-volume sound, lighting and background sound.“

  “Are these techniques used at present?” Tom talked for the first time since the conversation started, with great concern in his voice.

  “I don’t know,” David confessed. “My friends haven’t mentioned anything of the kind. They were just saying that such methods were used in the past. “But obviously we have to consider the possibility. What’s stopping anybody from doing that? We don’t have any controls in place to prevent it.”

  “No, we don’t,” Tom added. “I wasn’t even aware of these techniques as the head of Secure-IT. I think the next step is to find out if this is the case. Our people seem addicted to their Digiscreen programs. If we can determine that it’s true, and caused by the media, then we can go after the programmers or advertisers involved and hopefully get to the brains behind the operation.”

  “It will require some time, and it will not be easy for me,” David tried to explain his position. “I don’t know exactly what to look for. I will try and talk to a friend who is a graphic artist. Maybe we can find something together, hidden images or messages in the current ads. If it’s been going on all this time, we should have a lot of material to mine for data. I’ll do what I can.”

  “We can ask nothing more of you, my young friend,” Tom smiled at David.

  17

  The following weekend, everyone had once again regrouped at Tom’s house in the Scrappie compound. Lan managed to come as well, and he told Allan that even though all was quiet at home, he had been anxious to see his new friends and was happy to be in a place where nobody would attempt to take his life.

  They were enjoying the late morning weather in the backyard, the rain the night before having cleaned the air and brought an unexpected freshness to the surroundings.

  Allan had been thinking of the idea of freeing the clones and putting an end to the clone generating technology. He was still stuck on how to implement the idea with their existing resources. What an unusual taskforce, each of us so different from the other, and yet so similar in our dreams. Is it possible that we can ever succeed? Is it probable? Is it worth dying for it? Are we willing to die for it? These were the questions going through his mind as he decided how to bring the topic up in the conversation.

  “I’d like to say something. Please hear me out before you jump in.” Allan tried to steady his voice as he began. “In the Art of War, Sun-Tzu wrote: In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity. We live in apparently chaotic circumstances. We don’t know what to do, and yet there is so much that can be done, even without knowing our enemy very well. Can you imagine our potential? The opportunities are endless.”

  “We have to expose our unknown enemy,” Allan continued. “We have to attack him where he is unprepared, appear where we are not expected. What’s the best way to engage our foe? We attack the cloning facility. Our gain would be twofold: one, we gain freedom for the captive clones and two, we make the enemy take action so we are able to identify them.”

  “Isn’t that dangerous?” David asked. “We don’t know how strong they are. And who is going to attack the cloning building? We don’t know how to fight. We don’t even have weapons.”

  “There is merit in what Allan is proposing,” said Tom, the crease on his forehead deepening. “I can see the events unfolding in an advantageous way for us. I have some trusted friends, former comrades of mine, who could assist us with the resources we need for the attack itse
lf. There is little security in the building, as far as I know. The problem is how can we save the clones? We don’t know how many there are and we don’t have enough resources for their rescue.”

  “We could ask the Scrappies for help,” Jules proposed. “Some of them are clones themselves.”

  “What makes you think they’ll help?” David seemed skeptic. “Most of them are just scavengers, afraid of everything, living for themselves and barely able to keep themselves alive.”

  Tom shook his head, “Not all of them are helpless. It takes a lot of courage to last here. Some of them are not much different than us. They live in small groups, take care of each other, and form families of sorts.”

  “Why haven’t they formed a real community then?” Mel asked, seemingly confused.

  “Everybody is afraid of congregating. When that happened in the past, people started to disappear. When the Scrappies live apart, the city security people leave everybody alone.”

  “We could go to each group, one at a time, and talk to them,” Lan proposed. “This way, we don’t congregate, but we share with them our plan and ask for them to join us in the rescue.”

  “And what happens if someone is an undercover security person, a spy? We'll all be exposed then.” David’s comment left them feeling vulnerable.

  Daniel didn’t necessarily agree, “If we don’t employ their help, we might as well give up before we start anything. We can’t succeed alone.”

  At that point, Tom took the lead in the conversation. “We’ll take that chance. I know the Scrappies better than any of you. And I also know most of the Security people, meaning I have a better chance of spotting an intruder.”

  Allan felt that the moment had come, the time that each of them took a stand and made a commitment. “Let’s go back to the beginning of this conversation. My question to you guys is: who is in?” He looked at each of them, one by one, trying to sense their emotions and thoughts.