Dawn of Modern Man

by Nick Plastino

  DAWN OF

  MODERN MAN

  Nick P L a S T I N O

  Dawn of Modern Man © 2014 Nicholas John Plastino.

  All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Art by

  Mayank Nagor, Sagar Kinkar& Derek Murphy

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  To Liz and Sally

  Between the dreams of night and day there’s not so great a difference

  ~ Carl Jung

  P R O L O G U E

  L

  iving in a United Autonomous Network pod was commonplace by 2081, although, it wasn’t for everybody, only those that chose it. The delights of the virtual world were abundant and many people did choose to live in the Cloud. Through cerebral-diode manipulation the virtual life felt real and with the help of engineered sustenance, people experienced little to no health complications. The people on the outside understood the benefits and came to terms with their peers’ decision to transition over. The Virtual Migration happened over years. Certain population sects became familiar with the virtual reality Cloud gradually. They were groomed, medicated and thoroughly ensconced in the virtual rat race. Many eventually decided to live in the Cloud full time, while others decided to treat it like a job and get paid for the energy their bodies produced. A better modern life had been sold, habitable property had transitioned to the intangible and people were more efficient than ever. The energy was vibrant and fluid. People seemed happy.

  PAR T I

  A Dividing Resolution

  C H A P T E R 1

  Parker didn’t give a shit about the scale. He didn’t care how he stacked up to his peers in the Cloud or who was leading the virtual rat race. Sure he had spent time inside, made a few bucks contributing. He would plug in mostly just to burn time. It was a good place to explore with new places to go every day. The possibilities were infinite. Parker even wondered if he would someday meet a young lady to his liking in there. The Cloud seemed to be where most the girls his age spent a lot of their free time.

  Parker knew it probably wouldn’t work out though. The scale mattered for many of them. He consistently thought women that cared so much about this damn scale were not worth a damn anyway, except, maybe somebody like Angela Fostad or Jenny Beal. They certainly seemed worth it, but to what extent? Parker knew some guys that would rather settle for fembots, weirdo guys, all happy and honky about some concubine they designed to live in their branded homes in the Virtual Reality Cloud. Well he knew of guys a couple years ahead of him that made the commitment to crossover, and he was pretty sure they settled for fembots. As far as he was concerned people that traded in their life or went consciousness to consciousness, were nothing but batteries for the grid.

  Parker knew he would never be happy droning his life away inside the Cloud. It was fun to float in there and visit people’s virtual plats, but in no way did Parker want to make a career of it. He enjoyed the real world, even if it wasn’t always as pretty as its virtual equivalent.

  The Cloud promise, offered by the virtual world’s governing body, the United Autonomous Networks (UAN), is that all people are guaranteed their own autonomous virtual land and can live out their dreams limited only by how creative and ambitious they are. Parker felt, for the most part, that the same was true for the real world, except it just wasn’t as easy. For those that decided to make the commitment to live in the Cloud, the UAN provided sustenance and in return, the warm human body produced energy for the grid. It wasn’t always the case that people could live in there. The Cloud started as a place where people could plug in and enjoy the immense playground people built. It offered an expanding array of sites to visit. They could spend as much time in there as they desired, and get paid for the energy the grid drained from their bodies.

  Politicians eventually applauded the technological breakthroughs that made it possible and coined the Cloud, the cure for the common working man. The UAN shared a special relationship with governments around the world. They offered the countries cheap and sometimes free energy. In turn the country would let the UAN build a hive, the structure where people went to plug in. Within a couple of decades of the Cloud’s birth, going to a hive to plug in was a common thing to do and some opted to live in the Cloud, never to see real sunlight again.

  The majority of people didn’t live in the Cloud, but most were working to climb the scale, so they could stop by, plug in and make some money contributing. In accordance with developing a system that kept people motivated, the UAN developed the Voltage Flow Scale. It was a complicated scale that measured people’s worth in the Cloud. Parker found it somewhat ambiguous and did not care how far he’d climbed, or how many steps it would take him to reach the next level.

  He would often contemplate what was next in his life. Parker only had a semester left at the Academy; his mindset made it hard to pay attention in class. School was almost over for him and he didn’t know where life was going to take him. He felt the Academy was teaching him valuable lessons, but he did not know where he would apply his knowledge. He didn’t know. The world seemed to be changing so fast. Sometimes he wondered if he would just end up living in the Cloud, never meet anybody special and drone a life away. He knew it was the easy route and he also knew it was the available route. The thought scared him. He wanted to leave his mark on the world, which didn’t seem feasible living in the Cloud. Parker did think though, that the Cloud was going to be an essential part of the future and that knowing about it would be important.

  “Class is over. Snap out of it,” Cadmus said. He was sitting next to Parker.

  The remark interrupted Parker’s endless loop of thought. He gathered himself quickly, leaned forward in his chair and did his best to appear like he knew what was going on. He replied to Cadmus, “Yep, guess it’s time to go.”

  Everybody in the class was making their way to the door. The overhead hum of the lights and soft steps on carpet were the only noises heard in the room. Most students’ faces were glued to their mobile device, all while weaving around others seamlessly, like second nature. The students were quiet and appeared to be busy.

  “Seemed like class was never going to end, I mean how long can one person stick on the subject of Cloud navigation. Besides, there’s a different class for that anyways,” Cadmus said as they made their way out the door.

  “No shit, it’s like every teacher thinks they have something to add to the subject, yet it’s pretty intuitive to all of us.”

  Once outside the lecture hall Parker and Cadmus strolled through the open air corridor back to their house, a few blocks off campus. As they were crossing the street leaving campus, an amiable voice came through over the academy’s announcement system: Good Afternoon Cadets, Chancellor Richard Seymore has made his final decision regarding reproduction research. The UAN has decided to fund research at North Mountain… the voice slowly faded into indiscernible jargon as the guys continued to walk and not pay attention.

  They lived on Remington Lane, a federal street that did not permit UAN squabble overhead. It was close enough to campus though if one must they could hear the jabber. But why bother? The Federal Wireless Network blanketed just about everywhere. Information smothered everything and if it were important they would hear about it again.

  Parker and Cad’s history went bac
k to secondary school at Langley High on Whidbey Island, a rural community in the Puget Sound that was a one hour ferry ride from Seattle. There they became socially acquainted mostly through their desire to go to a UAN Academy. To join an Academy required a certain amount of fortitude with the doldrums of scholastic curriculum and of course a high score on the EVAT (Energy Value Assessment Test). With 15 regional Academies, it wasn’t so strange they ended up at North Mountain Academy together and with only 2,500 students at the school, it was easy to spot a familiar face. They quickly became better friends during their first year of Academy. By the second year they were roommates in the dorms, and by the third year they lived together off campus.

  Parker, a sturdy guy with a handsome jaw line, green eyes and groomed dark hair, liked living with Cad Updike. Even though most of the time he felt Caddy boy was not recognized around campus as North Mountain material. As far as people from Whidbey, Cad had a difficult

  upbringing. Whidbey was the kind of place where there were different types of locals; the ones that had roots in the island’s fishing and boat making industry and the ones whose parents were educated, made their money and then moved to the island. Whidbey was more diverse than that, but sometimes it was easy to lump a person into one group or the other.

  Cad was husky and had the soft wide shoulders of a farm boy. He was from the group that didn’t have as much money. His half-drunk dad worked in the shipyard from time to time and his mom was either high on pills or looking for a way to be high on pills. He was the youngest of six and probably the smartest one in his family, definitely the hardest working. Cad never spoke well of the home he came from and Parker knew not to ask about it. Cad would spend most of his free time around North Mountain logged in at the local hive. His tuition and meal plan was paid by the State. All the money he had for anything else came from putting time in for the UAN. And Cad chose North Mountain, of all places.

  The Academy was located in Sandpoint, Idaho, a town in the southern tip of the Selkirk Mountain Range on the shores of Lake Pend Oreille (pronounced pond-a-ray). The campus sat in acres of lakefront property, which was occasionally in the shadows of the scenic surrounding mountains. They had a fish as their mascot, the Kokanees, an avid outdoors club and a competitive ski team. North Mountain was number one in rowing and sailing amongst UAN academies and considered by few as the most prestigious school in the country.

  It was also known as the kind of school where money could, and would, get you in. Money kids, the type that came from a lot of it, made up the majority of the student body and a lot of them had that air of entitlement and an ‘I get what I want’ attitude. This is where Cad didn’t fit in well. He couldn’t afford to swing dicks with them. Their bathrooms were closed to State scholarship kids. Cad didn’t let it get him down though, in the Cloud he could afford whatever he wanted anyways.

  Parker came from a different situation than Cadmus. He felt he could blend in with the rich kids better, but he knew he didn’t belong with them either. He had two younger siblings, Jack and Carina, each only a year apart. His parents were teachers and did pretty well for themselves. When he was younger, they would go on a winter ski vacation every year and since his parents both had summers off, go on long summer road trips. Both his parents enjoyed a good reputation with the island community. An All-American family it appeared to be indeed. Just like any family, Parker’s wasn’t perfect. His parents drank too much and they worked too much. The time off his parents took was nice growing up, because when they were working, they were busy. Teachers had responsibility, as always, but in 2081 they were compensated similar to 20th century medical doctors. Legislation that changed American education forever was enacted in the 2030s and by 2081, being a teacher at a high school was similar to holding a professor’s job at a university. Teachers were expected to be published and determine their own curriculum to best fit the students’ needs. Parker’s parents were more concerned with their respective careers and students than with their children.

  Parker’s home life was lacking and he replaced this emptiness with rebellion and alcohol; a familiar story for kids with hard working, semi- present parents. Lucky for Parker, he never got into serious trouble. He still managed good grades (it was expected, not rewarded) and did well in sport, but something was missing. He felt his parents didn’t care. Every time he did talk with them it seemed to be an argument, none bigger than the one when he told his parents he wanted to attend a UAN academy. Parker remembered the unapologetic look of disgust on his father’s face when he asked Parker, “Haven’t I taught you anything? I can’t believe you thought this would be acceptable.”

  Parker felt like crying, he didn’t know the answer. He was hoping they would be proud of him. After all, it wasn’t easy getting into a UAN academy. Parker left the dinner table that night without saying a word. Things cooled down and Parker’s parents eventually came to terms with his decision and decided to support him.

  As Parker got older he learned to appreciate more and more what his parents provided him. He wanted things to be different with them, but he realized again and again he was luckier than most to have what he did.

  Even as Parker matured, he still enjoyed getting high from time to time and drinking on a somewhat regular basis, and had a friend in Cad who enjoyed the same level of mischief.

  “So what time are you planning on going to the hive?” Cad said as they walked up the entry way to the house. He continued, “Isn’t it your turn to see if you can beat me?”

  “I’m not in any rush, later this evening… I’ll meet you down there.” “Well shit, I was hoping we could ride together,” Cad said looking

  for a reply.

  “I don’t know man. I’m probably not going to go until later, if you want to wait until later?”

  “Figures, well I’m going to go hop the tram then, and make my way down. I think I can climb the voltage flow scale today.”

  “Oh, good for you,” Parker said, doing his best to pretend like he cared.

  “Yeah, 14v7z now, hopefully 14v8a tonight,” Cad said. He was clearly excited, going from 14v7z to 14v8a must be significant to many.

  “A fourteen eight-A, huh? Nice, we’ll have to celebrate then,” Parker’s eyes started to gaze past Cad as he spoke, “You think that number is going to do ya any good with these North Mountain chicks? They seem to either like a guy that’s on his way to the top or somebody that doesn’t even give a shit. Like Wayne Phillips, how the hell does that guy get a girl like Megan Hamilton?”

  “You’re over thinking it man, but yeah, eight-A should do me good. I hope anyways.” Cad paused. “I’ll see you down there tonight.” He started making his way towards his room on the first floor.

  The house they lived in off campus provided rooms for rent on a monthly basis. The rooms were co-ed, but most of the time 5 or 6 guys occupied the house. Parker had one of the better rooms in the house. It looked over the rear courtyard and had a bathroom, a nice step up from the dorms. Parker had already started making his way upstairs to his room and told Cad from the banister, “I’m thinking of a way to win tonight Cad. Good luck too with getting to eight-A.” He meant what he said.

  C H A P T E R 2

  The Adirondack building sat on the southern-most point of North Mountain Academy. The building wasn’t any older than 10 years, but had such a prestigious façade it looked as though it had been there for ages. The building had intricate dark wood carvings that were accented with craftsman masonry work. It had an opulent gothic look, except instead of gargoyles spotted around the building, the cathedral style windows were topped off with academia worthy statues. A young Edison crowned the window above the entry way. To the right of the entry was Einstein and to the left, a statue of Newton. The Adirondack was a faculty building that also provided housing for tenured staff. On the top floor, below the arched smoked glass dome ceiling, was the headmaster’s quarters. Ms. Alceon Fudore, a career woman with a shapely presence, lived there.

  Looking
out over the lake from her viewing room, she would summon advisors and usually find a reason to berate one of them. She was loathed in a certain way from under-staffers, but had a special place in the minds of donors and her academic peers at other institutions. The art of office politics was her specialty and in her bubble of a world she garnered a reputation as a tits-up kind of woman. The grass was always greener on her side and unless she asked for an opinion, it was not smart to give her one.

  It was known amongst faculty of the school that she once fired a staffer for disagreeing with her. The issue; the American Asperger’s Production Act (AAPA), a comprehensive funding bill for the liberation of the autistic mind. Study after study showed that given proper circumstances, those with the formerly known disorder and newly recognized ability were actually capable of excellent research and development. They were viewed as an evolutionary link to the future. This, being hard to believe for some and all around hard for those that felt left out, made for an extremely decisive issue. However, it was clear to most that they had a gift that the whole country could benefit from if used correctly. The bill passed and the program started showing remarkable results with scientific breakthroughs known as government inventions. It became widely viewed as a success story. Alceon Fudore’s staffer cheerfully acknowledged how great it was that the autistic mind was being put to good use and that they were making progress on the national teleport system.

  They had successfully beamed an ape across the country, coast to coast. The teleport was heard around the world. Everybody was amazed in one way or another. Alceon made it clear that afternoon where she stood on the issue. Ms. Fudore told the young lady that day, “Don’t forget whose team you’re on. You work for a UAN institution. We are sovereign from those scabs that think it’s a good idea to put auts in charge of R&D.”