Dhungwana 2117: A captivating sci-fi novel: The Dhungwana Chronicles (2117-3451) Part 1

Dhungwana 2117

The Dhungwana Chronicles (2117 - 3451). Part I.

By

Baibin Nighthawk and Dominick Fencer

http://www.nighthawkandfencer.com

http://the-dhungwana-chronicles.weebly.com/

Dhungwana 2117 - The Dhungwana Chronicles (2117 - 3451). Part I.

Copyright 2015 by

Baibin Nighthawk and Dominick Fencer

ISBN 9781310997471

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please direct them to Amazon.com. Thank you for respecting the work of these authors.

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, places, events and incidents in this novel are either the product of the author's imagination or, if real, used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as a representation of views of any department or agency of any government body.

Adult Reading Material

*****

Cover by Yvonne Less.
http://www.diversepixel.com/

Acknowledgements:

We would like to give special thanks to John Rigg for revising the manuscript.

Also by Baibin Nighthawk and Dominick Fencer:

Black Hawk Day Rewind

http://bit.ly/1G0PwqX

by going beyond them into the impossible’

Arthur Charles Clarke

Ian watched Dayla sleeping naked beside him. Her breasts were covered by her long black hair, and in the dim light, the folds of the blanket draped over her hips created the image of an antique oil painting.

The scent of sex hung in the air but, unlike Dayla, Ian had not been able to sleep. He couldn’t get his failure in the District 604 elections earlier that day out of his mind. It had been his second attempt in the Federal Community elections, and losing again hurt, even if he had lost by only a handful of votes.

He looked down at his wristsynk, his all-systems synchronizer and life buddy, and set the housebot in the kitchen to make a cup of sweet, relaxing herbal tea. At the same time he cancelled room service delivery, avoiding a noisy entrance by the hovertray, and then got up to fetch the tea himself.

Ian sat at the window of the vintage skyscraper, drank half of the infusion and looked out of the large window: District 604 was enveloped in the darkness of night. Lights and flares stretched out to the horizon, a sign that many were already on their way to work.

His wristsynk showed the news as it arrived in real time from Dhungwana. Now its screen flashed onto the outside of his arm, and Ian looked down to see the time of the meeting had been announced: the Constituent Assembly in District 4309 would begin sitting at dawn on the spring equinox. The Assembly would have the three months until summer solstice to draw up major changes to the Constitution.

The Constitution of Dhungwana was rigid, concise and planetary. Dhungwana was the only dry land on Earth recognized by the planet’s inhabitants and for this very reason its borders extended to the oceans.

The constitution was immutable; it could only be changed by the constituent authority which overruled ordinary legislative bodies; it was composed of ten thousand people who had been elected at least ten times in their lives by the Federal Communities.

The boundaries of the Earth‘s ancient states were now only a historical legacy and, in this session, the Constituent Assembly would decide on the final elimination from school curricula of the various ancient languages that were still taught in a few districts.

Dhungwan had been the official language for over eighty years. Ian smiled for a moment as he admitted to himself that he would never be able to write or speak English fluently; and, as a result, he didn’t care at all about the issue of ancient cultures and the languages before the Constituent Assembly.

In addition, the adoption of Dhungwan would save incalculable amounts of money, time, and resources because the development of language translation software would no longer be necessary. This was all the more reason to permanently delete the dead languages from mandatory school curriculums.

At 3:45 in the morning, 436,873 communities were on line, about 100,000 more than when he had got out of bed half an hour earlier. Ian simultaneously activated communication with all the communities he could access, manually entering his passcode so as not to wake his partner.

Suddenly he felt soft breasts press against his back and Dayla’s arms slipping around his waist.

“I think we should live together, Ian. If we got married, you could get additional credits for the upcoming elections. Think about it.”

“Maybe. But within six months we would have to try to conceive, and right now I am too involved in my career for us to have a child. Consider all the process stages… the cleaning and repairing of our DNA for starters. We still have time; your reproductive parameters have decreased by only 15%. We can wait a little longer.”

Dayla sighed. She thought about their friends, the world they lived in. She wanted to share her world with him completely, but apparently it was still too soon.

“I understand” she replied, giving up. Meanwhile, she started nibbling his ear and slid both hands across Ian’s groin. “It would be a pity to fall asleep right now... don’t you think?”

“The Health Tutor will be happy today: the monthly summary shows that I have improved my lipid metabolism. Objectively, the change in my aerobic exercise sequence is paying off” said Ian as he sat down at the table in the dining room and waited for the hovertray to bring his breakfast.

Meanwhile Dayla had checked the integrity of the housenet, the apartment’s central communication system, and opened her personal display on the sitting room table. She smiled across at Ian as she ordered breakfast with a casual swipe of her finger across the display.

“That’s perfect! You’ll gain greater political credibility and improve the projection of your personal statistics. You need just half a point to reach the established bench level, don’t you? If the trend shows that your social cost after productive age is decreasing, then you will have no problem in the upcoming consultations... By the way, how do you feel today?”

“Let's say that I have absorbed the shock, thanks. What about you?”

“In line with recommendations. Of course, I tend not to put on weight like you, so I think tonight I'll eat a wonderful dessert” she replied, laughing.

“Yeah, you’re one of the lucky few... have you reserved a table for this evening’s dinner? There will be eight of us from what I understand, including a new couple who hang out with the 8,000 community. I wonder if they have really climbed some mountain top.”

“I’ll check them out using the intranet before starting work. I’d like to know their taste in food before reserving a restaurant.”

Dayla finished her breakfast, put the cup, dish and cutlery on the hovertray, and then got up from the table, telling the display to turn itself off.

“I'll see you tonight then. Could you send me the address of the restaurant? Tomorrow I leave for District 6324; they’ve just confirmed the shuttle. I’ll be back in three days.”

Ian looked across at Dayla with a quiet smile, then added casually “Hey! You know you can leave some clothes here, I've already made some space in the wardrobe” Ian said, getting up and kissing her on the cheek.

Dayla smiled with satisfaction, it was just what she had been expecting to hear for months, a small step towards cohabitation. She was delighted with herself for never having forced his hand. “Thank you” she replied. “I’ll leave my beauty case with a few personal items. Next time I’m here, I’ll add my cosmetics to your routine orders’ list. Have a nice day, Ian!”

Dayla walked through the BlueGray Corporation biometric body scanner at 7.30 and, like every morning, first things first, she updated the intranet to her wristsynk.

On her office’s multi-screen video wall, displays began to run a presentation of the Social Principles of Dhungwana. The membership rules were very simple: clarity, transparency, honesty. A commitment to work for the common good of all rewarded even individual initiatives, and members, too, when an innovation had a positive impact on the overall community.

The BlueGray Corporation was among the seven most important private groups in the world and had several industrial divisions: Chemical, Pharmaceutical, Biotech, Food, Transport, Energy and Information Technology. Dayla Erle was the Investor Relations Manager of the Food Division.

‘Repetita iuvant’ thought Dayla as she took a look at the presentation, proud to remember that Latin phrase while she enjoyed the last few minutes before starting her workday. Then she read the news, her alerts and logged onto her Communities.

She greeted her friends, her coaches, she arranged the evening party, booking the restaurant after checking the preferences of the diners.

Afterwards she spoke to Ian, reminding him of his agenda, and wrote a note to her singing teacher.

Finally, she leaned back in her chair and sipped her second cup of coffee of the day, looking at the view from the 304th floor of the BlueGray Corporation headquarters: the ocean wasn’t far away and the jagged coastal scenery, blessed with the colors of spring, was superb.

Dayla was a satisfied woman: she had a companion who loved her very much and was almost ready to live together; a network of good friends; a job which gave her responsibility and prestige, a remuneration package higher than average, and she could even take some time off now and then.

“I belong, ergo sum” she said loudly and solemnly, throwing the empty coffee cup in the garbage disposal.

In fact, the social organization of Dhungwana was based on communities who interacted virtually with each other depending on their skills, travel habits, interests, education, place of residence, level and type of productivity, and their food-consumption behavior. The higher status a person achieved, the greater were the communities to which they might belong, and therefore the higher his or her social prestige.

At 8:15 am Dayla was reading the first management and finance reports of the day… suddenly there was a knock at the door.

“Come in!”

Alyssa, a twenty-two year-old trainee, entered with her mentor accountant, Theodore, an old generation robot often used by the corporation for the training of new administrative staff. Robot trainers were common, even Dayla had a singing teacherbot, but hers was one of the latest models, a truly innovative vocal coach, reliable and a great teacher.

The robots had rebelled fifty years earlier, before settling for low-level and non-interactive jobs.

They now worked alongside people to help them develop their talents and reach their aspirations.

“Ms Erle, management control staff are updating provisional data. The communication will arrive in a few moments, so you should read the new results and forget the old data” Alyssa reported, as she moved the recent documents icon that appeared on the wall display with her hand.

“Thanks, Alyssa. Hi, Theodore, I’ll see you both in a couple of hours with the proposal for the Annual Shareholders’ Report graphics.”

Alyssa smiled and thanked Dayla. Alyssa felt proud to be an active part of the project for the 2117 shareholders' meeting.

Dayla was pretty tired but, taking advantage of Ian’s absence, had decided to stay late in the office to work on the final part of the shareholders report, so she could avoid working that weekend.

Her friend Sarah had videoed at 20.15 and Dayla had stopped work for a few minutes to chat with her about the previous evening. They could laugh now: they had spent a pleasant evening with a few friends at a restaurant. The restaurant was pretty famous, but the bill had been beyond all expectations: a small fortune.

“Of course we ate wonderfully, but that place was so expensive!” said Sarah.

“Yeah, really expensive! And we didn’t ask the chef to prepare those special dishes just for us” said Dayla. “He didn’t have to order special ingredients for our dinner, I don’t understand.”

“I don’t, either... What did you think about that new couple?”

“You’re talking about the climbers?”

“Yes, them. What did you think of them?”

“Uncomplicated, I’d say. On the other hand, they only follow sport communities, no cultural associations, museums or anything similar. In any case, they were nice and sociable. We can invite them again, if you agree. They were hearty eaters!”

“Well, she'll have to be careful; she’s not skinny. The Health Tutor must grill her all the time... ”

Dayla laughed, then said: “Right, I'll invite them to dinner at my house, so you don’t need to cook... however, you should make an effort every now and then… Sorry, Sarah, but I have to say goodbye now otherwise I won’t finish this report. Talk to you in a couple of days, ok? And we’ll organize the weekend. I gotta go. Bye.”

Sarah said goodbye and hung up, leaving Dayla to her work.

It was late when Dayla began to get worried: she realized that she hadn’t been given access to all the data files that she had requested the day before.

She called the administration office hoping to find the director still there… he usually left the office at around 9.00 pm.

“Good evening, this is Erle speaking. David Visp?”

“Good evening, he just left the office. Maybe I can help you?” A male voice answered.

“I hope so. Who am I talking to?”

“Nathan Chungle, Deputy Director. I have been in the division for about a month.”

“That's why I couldn’t recognize your voice! I realized just now that your department hasn’t given me access to the monthly files I need to write my analysis and my financial reports. Can you help me?”

“Sure, give me a few minutes to check out your profile, and then I’ll send you an access code. Have a nice evening!”

“Thank you! Is there anyone else in the office?”

“There's no one else here, and I’ll be leaving as soon as I’ve sent you the code.”

“Thanks. Have a nice evening!”

Dayla checked the intranet to see who else was present in the building in addition to her and Chungle: there were one hundred individuals but most of these were robots, and she didn’t like working at night in a building populated only by robots. She decided to go home in about half an hour.

A couple of minutes later Nathan sent her the access code and Dayla began quickly navigating the files, amazed and puzzled by what she saw. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was late; now Chungle had gone home and the information she needed would have to wait until the next day.

She was shutting down her workstation when two robots and a very nervous security agent burst into the office.

“Ms Erle, sorry to bother you but about an hour ago we received a warning of an attempted hacking into the corporation intranet by cyber raiders, we must check all remote workstations and offices ... Do you mind? We will bother you for a few minutes only. You know the procedure, don’t you?”

“Yes, sure. Go ahead” said Dayla, trying not to look annoyed.

The two robots began working, and a quarter of an hour later the agent, even more nervous than before, made a face and let out a curse. “Damn it! Your wristsynk! I haven’t checked on synchronization with the intranet and your archive!” He paused. Dayla thought perhaps he had blown a fuse, then he addressed her again: “Ms Erle, have you downloaded any files to your wristsynk? I should start the process all over again ... but I, too, am late.”

“No, I’m not wearing it today. It’s being repaired” she replied, lying as she showed him her wrist.

“Okay, we're done. Tomorrow we will give you a new code to access the files; unfortunately, tonight you can no longer work. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’d already decided to go home. I’m very tired and not very productive. Good night then.”

The security agent and the two robots waited until she shut the office, escorted her to the exit of the building and then left.

Dayla took a taxi and arrived home, dazed and stressed out… and, to make matters worse, Ian was out of town.