DysFUNCTIOpia

by Jose Moreno

CHAPTER IV***

  Barón woke up at 5:30 am of Saturday the 14th of the month of April of the 2054 in order to test the HIEG on the bullet train. The functio- guerilleros were all ready to leave on Monday if Barón was successful that day.

  Barón got up and ran to his room door to make sure the door was locked. Then, he walked back towards the bed and pulled from under his bed the device that Barón had built. It was a hollow lead cylinder, one foot long by four inches in diameter, containing sophisticated medical equipment parts, and powered by uranium; On one of the circular bases, it had a one inch hole, which was the place where the high intensity radiation was going to come off; on the other circular base, it had an old fashion switch with an old fashion clock set so that he could set the time of the blast. He walked to the other side of his bed. There was a bureau. The shinny metallic bureau had on top two sophisticated clocks. He grabbed those watches and walked back to the place on the floor where the device was. Then, nervous, he set the clock of the device at 7:23 am and turned on the device. After he wiped the humidity from his eyes with both hands and exhaled once to release his anxiety, he proceeded to synchronize the two watches with the clock on the device.

  He quickly stood up, ran to the bathroom to put a TRS, forgetting to take his shower, and returned to his room. Then, he grabbed an old fashion “hippy” bag made with natural fibers. The bag had a hole on one side. He placed his device inside the bag making sure the hole on the device matched the hole on the bag—it was a way not to burn the bag when the invisible blast come out of it. Finally, he reached for his “Student permit” on the desk and walked out of his home.

  Once he was at the front gate, he turned right to head towards the bullet train station. On his way to the station, a security officer passing by said to Barón from his car using the megaphone, “Hey! Kid! Do you have a permit?”

  “Yes, I have it right here” said Barón lifting it up

  The security officer, being inside his land vehicle and ten feet from Barón, just glanced at the paper believing that it was legitimate and drove away.

  Barón kept striding until he arrived at the station number #234. He was getting closer; then, he noticed that Carl was already on top of the platform: He was waving at him

  “You are late again!” screamed Carl who was 30 feet above ground level on the platform.

  Barón just responded with a smirk. Then, he got on the elevator. Once on the top, he walked towards Carl and said, “Did anyone ask you for your permit?”

  “Oh yeah”

  “Well, her you have your clock. 7:23 is the time”

  Carl grabbed the watch and held it tight with his hand realizing time was an important aspect of the operation.

  While Barón and Carl waited for the “right” bullet train, they were beginning to feel anxious and nauseated. The day before, after filling out an electronic application, they both obtained special city permits for two hours in the morning to go to the art museum in downtown Truxes. They claimed in the electronic form that they wanted to see the new sculpture exposition—an educational goal was always the perfect way to find an excuse to be able to go out during the weekends. However, the trip to the museum was just a clever excuse to board the bullet train that Saturday in the morning along with people that were on their way to work. The real goal was to shut down the bullet train inconspicuously. Obviously, given their deep concerns with humanity itself, they were keeping in mind that by shutting down the bullet train there would not be any human casualties; there were going to be only many upset bullet train riders who were going to be late to work—Barón’s unfounded revenge was against functiomatons only not any living beings. But regardless of what they were intending, Barón and Carl were nervous about the functio-assault they were about to perform at the busy bullet train, being aware that getting caught for such act would entail many years in prison. On the other hand, although it was going to be their first time interrupting the performance of a major computer system that was essential for the proper functioning of the daily routines of the citizens of Truxes, they had planned their operation thoughtfully: they were going to try to shut down the main bullet train that travel across the Truxes area, and they knew that their chances of success, given the high volume of passengers, were on their favor—More people around a crime scene imply more people to question by police investigators, which entails more time for the investigation. However, in the mind of Barón and Carl, the anxiety they were going to be feeling in the train and the consequences that were going to be suffered by the passengers were a small price to pay—Baron and Carl were going to be motivated by the thought that functiomatons, like the ones that guided the bullet train across the city, were the ones that were depriving humans from being humans; they believe that “it was necessary that we all were taking a stand against heartless functiomatons and those disloyal humans that promote them” e.g. local city government.

  It was 7:13 when they saw the bullet train approaching. Barón said, “This is the right train. Let’s move. Let’s run to the back!” Both of them ran towards the tail.

  It was a simple plan, but risky. The plan was to point the device to the box that contained the CCF, which guided the trained, and wait until 7:23 am; at that time, the device was going to produce a quick four second blast. In order to make sure the blast was going to be effective, Barón had to make sure that the cylinder inside the bag was pointing exactly towards a one foot square area from the place where he was going to be seating—he estimated that his seat was going to be somewhere between ten to twenty feet away from the CCF. The job of Carl was to make no one stood up between the straight line connecting the device with the CCF at exactly 7:23 am: He was ready to tackle anyone if necessary.

  As soon as they were inside the train, they initiated the protocol. First they sat down in strategic places: Carl sat close to the CCF of the train; Barón sat not too close to the unit so that if any investigator suspected that a sabotage took place, when someone came to check the CCF right after the train had stopped running, they would not be able to figure out which of the many passengers did it, even after they had reviewed the train tapes. Barón was sitting twelve feet from the CCF. Carl was assessing the behavior of the passengers around the CCF —the beam was going to be invisible; however, the beam could harm anyone in the path of the beam; luckily, from the point of view of Carl, no one seemed to want to stand up. Barón had the device on his leg. Barón was looking in the direction of the CCF, manipulating the porous bag gently with his hands, and making sure not to drive anyone’s attention towards his bag. Once he felt confident that the blast was going to be effectively delivered on the one square foot area, he stopped moving the device and held it tight on his hands. Barón was constantly checking his clock anxiously but was trying to act calmly. After holding the device tightly with his hands for several minutes in the right direction, the timer on his left wrist indicated that thirty seconds were left for the blast. Carl, who had the other synchronized timer, was constantly turning around, giving quick glances at Barón, and waiting for the signal. Then, Barón touched his nose indicating Carl that there were only twenty seconds left. Also, it was a signal to indicate that he was going to proceed with the protocol because the conditions looked right. Their hearts were beating fast with excitement. Then, the timer indicated that it was the time for the blast, making Barón’s eyes to open widely, and feeling a slight recoil from the blast; nine seconds later, it became obvious the bullet train was losing speed. Eventually, the train stopped completely making the passengers question the inadvertent stop. At first, the passengers thought that the bullet train was going to stop quickly for a system reboot—it usually happened. After 5 minutes, someone screamed “I do not think it is going to reboot!” people became restless and agitated. Barón and Carl joined the crowd of people who were openly complaining that they were going to be late.

  Barón, Carl, and all the passengers in the bullet train waited for the rescue crew to come in their flying vehicles. Al
most one hour had passed since the bullet train had stopped. Passengers had run out of complaints. Carl closed his eyes. Barón looked out the window to watch the beautiful morning sun. Four vehicles were shining on the sky and approaching the train. The rescue crew had arrived.

  Barón and Carl were more nervous now because there was the chance someone was going to imply, by looking at CCF, that the system was overridden by an outside source. They knew that if the agents in the rescue team asked too many questions like police investigators, they were going to get caught since the instrument of their deed was in their possession.

  The rescue crew strapped their vehicles to the bullet train so that the exit door for the bullet train matched exactly the entrance door for the rescue vehicle. First, a man dressed in a dark termosuit came out, entered the bullet train, and asked passengers to remain seated. He raced towards the CCF box and worked on it for 4 minutes. Barón and Carl were anxious. Luckily, after not being able to fix the unit or find any cause for the shut down, he told everyone “Please, use the exit door one by one. Once a vehicle gets full, the next one will be filled in.” Those words gave a slight feeling of joy to Barón and Carl believing that that man in the dark termosuit had found no sabotage to the unit.

  As a result of finding the CCF unfixable on the spot, everyone was taken back to the next bullet train station by means of the air vehicles that were outside all of the doors of the bullet train. Then, they were transported to the closest bullet train station. Everyone came out of the air vehicles desperately in order to board the next train, which had already arrived at the station. On the other hand, Barón and Carl quickly exited the station, heading back to their houses, and making sure that no to display much excitement about their success.

  “Today, at 6:00 pm, we will celebrate” Carl said.

  “Oh yeah!” responded Barón.

  Barón and Carl had agreed before going into the bullet train that they were going to participate in an air surfing show if they were successful—they thought that it was a great way to say good bye to the city. Often, teen-agers in the city of Truxes met in parks with their Programmable Turbine Backpacks (PTB), wearing lights all over their bodies, and performed difficult air stunts; it was safe for teen-agers to fly through the air with PTBs given that their movements were programmed in advanced. Before a show, teen-agers worked on programming their movements so that the music and their moves were as aesthetic as possible. It was a procedure that was a fusion of art and technology—it was something that adults often preached to teen-agers in order to motivate them to pursue a life of technology. Their PTBs had sensors that regulated the flight in case of the possibility of a collision. It was those sensors that had made the use of those PTBs legal in Truxes. Not only teen-agers performed air surfing for their own amusement, but also competed with one another at air surfing shows.

  They both walked to their corresponding homes to kill some time. It was a Saturday. There was nothing else to do but prepare for the air show. Barón and Carl were determined to perform their air surfing act at the Grand air surfing competition in downtown Truxes. Given that Barón and Carl had the reputation of outcasts among many teen-agers in their neighborhood, surfing contests made them feel integrated with other teen-agers. In their homes, they both tried to focus on the competition by testing one more time the code they had created for the show, instead of depressing themselves about the thought that they were going to be, hopefully, leaving the city very soon.

  It was 5:50 pm; Barón and Carl were already at Downtown. They were walking from the bullet train station to the heart of the festivity. While they were walking from the station, on Main Blvd, the erratic, periodic, electronic sounds of the festivity were becoming more audible; Teen-agers around Barón and Carl seemed to be marching on the same direction. Then, they arrived at the populous gathering where a neon light sign on the highest point of an arch going from one side of the street to the other welcomed them. The sign had written on it, “Welcome to TECHNO-RITUAL.”A line of Teen-agers on the middle of the street seemed to be ready to perform an amazing air surfing show: They were all glowing in bright lights, the hissing sound of PTBs ready to fly could be heard, and technological music was blasting—it was a loud, indulging festivity that was only allowed during community events, but prohibited otherwise. Most of the spectators, standing on the sidewalks, were teen-agers wearing TRSs with excessive lights; those young spectators were expressionless, mesmerized by all the frantic lights around them, standing up motionless in perfect lines like soldiers during an homage, and not saying a word to each other. Approaching the line of participants, Barón quickly looked around and said to Carl “The return of the killer zombies!” Carl simply responded with a quick smile being more concerned with the technical details of the air maneuvers that Barón was going to be carrying out.

  Carl was helping Barón carry his box of tools and his equipment to the line of air surfers that were ready to compete. Because they arrived early, they were number 3 in line. The rest lined up 15 minutes after them, making the line of competitors, along Main blvd., a total of twenty—the street had been blocked just so that the competition could take place. When the announcer—He was very well known in city politics—indicated that the first competitor could approach the center stage, the music stopped and everyone waited.

  The first one walked, with his PTB, towards the bull’s eye painted on the center of the cross section of Main Blvd and Sierra Blvd. Then, the music started again. Number one took off making a positive impression on Barón due to the skillful way in which the talented competitor could vibrate and oscillate in the air: It made Barón think about the mathematical details of the code that competitor number 1 had written in order to overcome the safety software integrated with the functiomaton that regulates the flight.

  Then, number 2 walked towards the Bull’s eye. Looking nervous, number 2 tried to take off, but something failed. Immediately, his technical support friends manipulated something on the PTB; then, he attempted again to take off. This time, number 2 was able to show his ability. Barón was impressed by the way in which number 2 was able to coordinate his flight with the music. Although number 2’s surfing was not as sophisticated as number 1, Barón considered number 2’s flight more aesthetic; Beauty was one of the categories used by the judges to rate surfing performance.

  Then, Barón walked towards the stage area with a nervous expression and took off slowly. When he was 10 feet above the ground, he started to spin slowly as he was lifting up. Once he reached the height of 30 feet, he was spinning very fast and all the lights on him turned on intensely making him look like a ball of fire. Then, he stopped spinning and began to form flying patterns, making sure that his pace matched the intensity of the music. Finally, he went back to the bull’s eye and went to the area where all participants had to wait after having participated.

  Barón was trying not to judge his own performance while he was walking with Carl towards the waiting area. From the bench in the waiting area, Barón and Carl observed the fascinating performances of the rest of the competitors, who seemed to offer outstanding performances from the point of view of Barón. But, nostalgia began to betray Barón, while he was watching some teen-agers cheer up competitors, thinking that he going to leave that world behind. He thought, “It is necessary to do it,” trying to focus on the other competitors, which seem to him that they were implying a farewell.

  Once the last competitor finished his performance, the judges were given five minutes to decide who was going to be the champion of that year’s competition. The noise level was diminished. Teen-agers were static like statues. All lights everywhere were turned off deliberately to dramatize the results. The hearts of Barón and Carl were pumping blood faster than normal. Then, an attractive young lady walked, robotically, to the bull’s eye, trying not to arouse bacchanal thoughts to minors, pursuant to the criminal code, and said the number of the champion: “The champion is number 3!” Barón was surprised; Barón was not h
umble: immediately, he ran to the bull’s eye, leaving Carl behind, and grabbed with his right hand a symbolic award card which was equivalent to 100,000 dollars. The music began to play again and students were exuberantly cheering him up while Barón was waving his hand up in the air implying good bye to all.

  A few minutes later, at 6:52 pm, the music and lights died, and all the conscientious teen-agers suddenly realized that it was time to rush back to their homes. Barón and Carl had to rush to the Bullet train station, run to their homes, get plenty of sleep, and start to get ready for the difficult exodus to the northern valley.

  ***