EHuman Dawn (2 page)

The conversation ended there. Adam stormed off the balcony and into his recharge room. Miranda moved out during the eight hours he was locked inside.

Another aircraft flew over his head, forcing him into the present. It was time to get ready for work. He stared at the place where she’d stood only eight hours before. He regretted that he hadn’t even said goodbye.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to no one.

Turning on his heel, he went back into the apartment to get ready for work and get on with his long, lonely life. Such was love in the immortal modern world.

CHAPTER TWO

Adam was a creature of habit. He abhorred being late for any engagement, so he dressed quickly for the day. Looking at himself in the mirror, he couldn’t help wondering why he’d lived with his same face for two hundred years: dark black hair, cut short around the sides, but kept long enough in front to hang gently around his smoky grey eyes, bronzed skin, small pointed nose, thin smile, always thirty-three human years old in strength and agility, with two hundred years’ worth of information stored inside. If he could become anyone else, why remain Adam?

While the rest of the world tired of their personalities and appearances with time, Adam had stayed endlessly interested in himself. It fascinated him that he had remained steadfast to his form for two hundred years. It made him feel superior, even, as if he knew more than the rest of the inhabitants of Earth.

What Adam didn’t realize was that most of his memories weren’t his own.

Shrugging off his reflection in the mirror, he turned and strode to the center of the room, skirting the dancing Jill and Thomas, where the EC hung like an altar in the middle of a temple. It was one of several ways eHumans worked with Neuro, the network application that knit the whole society together.

Adam called to the machine, “Good Morning.”

The machine answered, “Good morning, Master Adam. The weather is 86 degrees and overcast. Sunset is due at precisely 7:14 p.m. The rail is operating smoothly and flights to your preferred cities are all on time. What would you like to do today?”

“Show messages,” he answered.

The EC displayed the faces of those who had called on him the previous day, including the ever-familiar face of his boss.

“TeleConnect Anthony Westfield,” he commanded.

“Yes sir. One moment,” the machine toned.

Instantly, a full-sized hologram of Anthony was displayed in the center of the room, right next to the dancing couple. The image smiled, then sauntered towards Adam, gliding through the dancers, as if he were a phantom.

“Adam, my boy, how are you?” he greeted.

Adam didn’t care much for Anthony. Truth was, Adam found him to be ridiculous. While every being on the planet was beautiful, smart, athletic and talented, there were still personality differences. Temperament could not be ordered up the way a new body could.

“You called?” Adam asked.

“I was wondering how things were going with the power outage Newsreel. I have an angle for you to ease everyone’s mind. It seems stores like Borgmans are claiming that they are low on workforce, which is why they’re closed every other day. I want you to go down to their headquarters and interview the CEO. Set the public at ease. Drive their attention to the fact that we’re losing laborers rather than electricity.”

Ah yes, Adam thought—the power outages. A few stores and offices in the city were no longer open every day. Speculation of city-wide power outages flooded Neuro. It needed to be squelched, and it was the job of the Newsreels to drive the people’s attention away from any crisis that might upset them.

“Sure, whatever you want, Anthony.” Recently, Adam felt uneasy about his job. Anthony told him the angle and Adam found the “facts” to back that angle up. Adam’s own investigative talents were rarely called to the table. All he had to do was fill in the blanks and deliver it to the people with a smile.

“Perfect,” Anthony purred, momentarily interrupting Adam’s melancholy, “I’ll put in a call to Douglas, the CEO of Borgmans, and make sure you get an interview. Will an hour from now work?”

“Fine with me.”

“Great. Come into my office when you’re done. I have to approve the story before production. This has to be a great Newsreel—one that will draw attention on Neuro and ease people’s minds. The Guardians will be paying attention, you know.”

“Yes Anthony, I know. The Guardians are always paying attention.”

Adam disconnected and walked to the door while giving the command, “Open.” He paused, thinking once more about his situation. While he enjoyed his job and all its perks, he was filled with a deep longing to be more and do more with his work, as if he had a purpose or a duty that he wasn’t fulfilling. And yet no one else in his life seemed to feel the same. Everyone was either happy with their lot, or Jumping into something new. eHumans rarely spoke about desire or purpose. As he began to exit through the open door, he heard Jill call out his name.

“Adam!”

He remained in the threshold and turned to look at her.

“Adam,” she began uncomfortably, “Thomas and I—well, we’re sorry to hear about Miranda.”

Adam knew Jill felt nothing of the sort. Even though multiple partners in the eHuman world were considered acceptable, jealousy still reigned in most hearts.

“She told you the news before she split, huh?” he said, trying to hide the sadness in his voice.

“Yes, she did. She left you a message,” Jill replied hesitantly.

“Really? I didn’t see it in my inbox,” he answered coolly.

“No, it’s there,” Jill replied, pointing a finger at the EC, “She left it on the desktop, not in your personal inbox.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” he said. Miranda, it seemed, was craftier than he had given her credit for. She’d left the message public so that Jill would snoop and hear it. A last jab at the “other” woman. Adam used his wireless to download the message from where he stood in the doorway. Sure enough, Jill had been correct and Miranda appeared in his head. He viewed her, wondering what in the world she had to say.

“Adam,” the image spoke, “I’m sorry. Please forgive me. This isn’t your fault. I simply need a change. Perhaps we’ll meet again. Forever is a long time. Anything is possible.”

Adam stood in silence, disabling his wireless so Jill couldn’t read his mind. He didn’t want her to know the anguish he felt at that moment. Then he turned and strode out the door.

“Close,” he called out loud, as the door shut behind him.

“Good morning, Master Adam,” the elevator spoke to him as he approached.

“Garage,” Adam replied. Conversation was quite simple when working with machines. Every elevator, train, car, computer, airplane, EC, and eHuman was on Neuro, a massive operating system and computer network. Controlled by eHuman thought. eHumans think and Neuro responds.

If Adam wanted to use Neuro for communication, information sharing and mining, or any one of the various applications Neuro offered, he would need to go online, which automatically happened when he plugged in for a recharge. During this time he had full access to the network and all its offerings.

He also had a wireless card, located in the head. This was a selectable setting and Adam kept this feature disabled for the most part because he found constant networking overwhelming. Were he to enable it, he would be connected with Neuro and every device, including all other wireless eHumans in the network, which was the ultimate cyberspace experience and allowed eHumans to work with the machines and each other without speaking aloud.

Most eHumans enjoyed the wireless feature, but Adam was different. He didn’t like strangers reading his thoughts or sneaking into his conversations. Keeping the wireless off gave him a sense of security. However, he was completely misguided. Whatever safety measures Adam thought he was taking were useless, due to the existence of the Guardians. They designed Neuro and managed the data that flowed within the network. They operated the LMOs and had access to every network device. Whenever Adam plugged in, which he had to do for survival, they traced and tracked everything he did.

The elevator doors opened and Adam found he wasn’t alone. Among the several people, he recognized a blonde woman standing toward the back. He couldn’t place her, but was sure he had seen her around. While gazing at her, he found himself yearning to live in another place and time where he would be free to investigate the world for what it really was. Perhaps this beautiful woman would admire him for his work, or think him a genius. He smiled at her, but she ignored him, instantly killing his fantasy.

He wasn’t in another world, he was here, in the eHuman world.

When the elevator stopped at the garage, Adam stood at the curbside line behind the others queuing up for a ride in a Personal Transportation Device, small one seat vehicles which drove around the cities transporting people from point A to point B. He watched despondently as the blonde woman from the elevator quickly entered a PTD and drove off into the traffic.

He wondered why she had affected him so deeply. After two hundred years of being himself, Adam wasn’t surprised with his constant cravings for women. He loved them as a rule. Yet this woman seemed so familiar, it almost drove him mad. He desperately wished he could place her with some memory in his database, but he found no record of her.

A few moments later, a PTD arrived in front of him to take him on his way. In a moment of insanity, he almost requested that the vehicle follow the woman. Shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts, he focused on his job instead.

“2600 Q Street,” he told the vehicle as he climbed in. He was due for his appointment at Borgman Headquarters.

“Yes Master Winter,” the PTD replied. The vehicle began to coast on its three wheels towards the exit and onto the highway, successfully joining the hundreds of other perfect, orderly vehicles on the smooth road, driving their eHumans around their immaculate city.

Fifteen minutes later, Adam found himself in front of the Borgman business office, a gleaming tower of glass and steel. Columned fifty foot tall figures carved from white marble flanked the entrance, each one a woman with plaited hair piled high upon her head, wearing long, flowing robes and holding what looked like baskets full of coins. Adam found this to be an old-fashioned notion, as coins hadn’t been seen on Earth since long before the Great Shift.

The door opened for Adam and greeted him as he crossed the threshold. The place was deserted and all the lights were out.

An elevator at the end of the corridor opened and spoke, “This way Mr. Winter. Mr. Abramhoff is waiting for you.” Adam noted in his memory file that only the doors, elevators and the machines needed to run Neuro were on. The rest of the office was in Conserve Mode. The place was grim.

Adam accepted the invitation and rode the machine up to the two hundredth floor. He exited into a large circular room that was more like an observation deck than a CEO’s business office. The shining city glared at him from every direction through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Welcome, Adam Winter,” a man said huskily. “I am a big fan of your Newsreel.”

“Thank you, sir,” Adam answered while turning to see who had spoken.

A man stood behind the desk opposite Adam. In spite of his crisp, clean gray suit, he portrayed a shambolic and unhinged man alone in his dark office. It was Douglas Abramhoff, founder and CEO of Borgman’s Department Stores. He shook slightly, desperately clutching a tiny electronic device in both of his hands.

Douglas had been a figure in the New Omaha business community for almost a century, running the most successful local business at that time. But now that success had run out, and Douglas was no longer the confident, commanding business leader he had once been. The two men spent a few awkward, silent moments, sizing each other up. Adam decided he would strike up the conversation.

“So, Mr. Abramhoff, Anthony Westfield, sent me here to interview you. He let you know I would be coming?”

Douglas looked distracted. He didn’t answer immediately. He walked to his desk and picked up something thin and yellow that Adam didn’t recognize. Adam began to get impatient with his interviewee.

“Listen, Mr. Abramhoff, I’m here to get some input from you about your reduced hours. The official statement from the company is that your workforce has reduced. My job at the Friend’s Network is to tell the people why and make sure they feel at ease with the news.” Adam forced a smiled at the man.

Douglas gazed at him. “Really?” he asked, “You want me to give you a reason why I have a work shortage? That’s all?”

“Yes,” Adam shrugged.

Douglas sat down behind his desk, still holding both the yellow item and his electronic display unit.

“Mr. Winter, the official line is that we have a reduced workforce. No longer satisfied with what New Omaha has to offer, people are Jumping into new lives and going off to new places. No one is Jumping into New Omaha.”

“What’s your plan for recruiting new hires? And how can we, the people of New Omaha, help you?” Adam asked.

Douglas began to laugh.

“How can you help? Ha!” He held up the electronic device in his hand. Adam knew what it was: a Jump Request, just like the one Miranda had shown him the night before. Douglas’ new body was displayed on the small monitor. Adam felt a sense of
dejá vu
.

“You’re planning a Jump, are you Mr. Abramhoff? Who’ll be your replacement?”

“I haven’t informed my management. As a matter of fact—you’re the first to hear of my decision. Do you like my new body?”

Adam looked at the lovely female form rotating for display. He felt uncomfortable being told this information. Why give him a scoop like this?

“Sure,” he answered hesitantly.

“Don’t you want to know why I’m Jumping?” Douglas challenged him.

“You’re bored with New Omaha?” Adam guessed.

“Wrong!” Douglas exclaimed.

The two men stared at each other in silence.

“I’m afraid to disappoint you, Mr. Winter,” Douglas continued, “But you’re not getting the story you wanted. The truth is, there isn’t a labor shortage. The real reason Borgman’s only operates four of the seven days a week is that I was betrayed.”