The Transdyne Awakening (4 page)

An attractive, dark haired girl near the top of the bench where Clay sat was engrossed in a conversation with the man next to her. Clay could tell they were fond of each other. They sat very close together and took every opportunity to look into each other’s eyes. He felt slightly embarrassed at their signals of overt affection. His own relationships with the opposite sex had only ever been purely selfish and physical. He knew there was more to having a relationship with a woman beyond his fumbling experiences of quick sex in a pay stall. It must be wonderful to really get to know each other like those two. He envied them.

He’d always paid for the beautiful ones. He generated enough ticks for the extra on the tab. Watching the couple at the end of the table, he thought back to his liaison with the red haired girl. She had set him alight when he first saw her through the permaglass in the arcade booth. As she stared outwards he had noticed her green eyes. What a combination; red hair and staring green eyes. He had paid a lot of money and she had been as accommodating as anyone could want. Yet afterwards, sitting alone he had nearly cried. He felt cheated and miserable. He had chided himself for his stupid expectations. What had he thought would happen? She hadn’t said a word after she had asked him what he wanted. She had forced a half smile and then just nodded and complied with his wishes. The more he had reflected on the incident, the more unhappy he had become. He thought of her sitting in that fleshbooth like merchandise on display. Everyone had to earn their credits. She was only using the natural charms she’d been born with. He wondered how many men she had entertained during that shift? He knew it was seen as just a business transaction, but something about it had deeply and adversely affected him. He could still see her in his mind; that exquisite face and tumbling, shoulder length hair. It was those eyes most of all. She had stared off into the distance as if she was trying not to be where she was. Somehow, she had managed to partially dislocate herself from her surroundings. He was sorry for her. He was sorry for himself. He realized that it was credits paid by men like him that kept her caged in that booth. He hated himself for it.

John interrupted his thoughts, pushing in beside him on the long bench. “Dig in, there’s plenty more where that came from!” Clay was struck by the fact that no one here seemed to take any account of the rules of social proximity. They worked and ate cheek by jowl and often made physical contact with each other.

He turned his attention to the food they had set before him. It was rich fare. The meat was carved into thick slices. John told him proudly it was lamb from their own flock of sheep. It was served with leafy green vegetables and potatoes. There were large containers on the bench and from one of these John poured a substance he called gravy over the food. “Want some?” he asked. Clay let him cover his meat with the brown liquid. He thought the whole meal was wonderful, but checked himself when he found he was bolting the food down much more quickly than the other diners. This was the way meals should be taken, he thought to himself. It felt right somehow. Conversation continued all around him. These people had laboured all day and had produced something of worth. Now they sat together, taking simple pleasure in each other’s company, their children and food they had cultivated for themselves. They shared something that Clay was finding more and more attractive.

When the meal was over, some of the crew began clearing the bench. He learned that even the white platters from which they had eaten were fashioned and fired at the community’s pottery and kiln. They didn’t seem to need for very much at all. Clay found himself reflecting that, if he were not to visit again, they would undoubtedly formulate medicines of their own. It was convenient for them to keep the pharmacy and M.I. room stocked with readily packaged biomeds, but he could see them getting by just fine without them.

Greg was a big, amiable man with a huge, rolling laugh that filled the room. He started to talk to John about something and Clay caught a reference to Trans.

“I hear a number from Jacob’s place came out here to join you,” Clay said. John smiled. “Yeah, they’re welcome here. There are a number of them but they are all productive. They get a fantastic amount of work done. They can go for a whole day in the worst sun and still be ready to studylearn half the night. It can wear me out, I tell you.”

Clay wanted to know more. “Jacob was saying something about them wanting to studylearn. He thought it was a little weird. I mean, I’ve never come across that. What do they want to studylearn?”

Greg and John exchanged a knowing look at each other.

“Well, that’s a long story,” said John.

Greg leaned back and let out that bellowing laugh.

“How long you got?” he asked.

Clay frowned. “Well I am curious. I’m interested in what Jacob and his guys told me. I’m also a little puzzled as to why so many of them wound up here.” John spoke slowly. “Well, we can tell you but it might be … well … it might be a little hard for you to process, let’s say.” Someone brought hot drinks to the bench and placed the steaming containers in front of them.

Some of the others had started to get up and drift away, leaving the three men to their conversation.

Greg’s face was wreathed in steam from his drink as he spoke.

“Explanations won’t make a lot of sense, unless you know something of the history,” he said. “How much do you know about the Trans agenda?”

“Not much,” Clay responded.

“Mmm … well it started with some very rich people nurturing the idea of living indefinitely!”

Greg went on. “They had already developed robotics to an advanced level. What started out as machines to help cook and clean grew into a huge industry. Machine intelligence was harnessed to build everything from toasters to terraglides. As knowledge increased this was developed further. Robotics were used in all kinds of useful areas. For example, if someone lost their legs in an accident, relays could be installed in their brain to instruct robot legs. That way the guy could move around pretty well. The technology just went on and on growing. Eventually the overlords reasoned that they could start to replace just about any body part that got sick or worn out. Some of these people actually had themselves transplanted into advanced, mainly robotic, bodies. Some of them went on living that way for a long time. As it got developed to a higher level, they started to try to ‘upload’ their human thought processes into computerized performance platforms. It got to the stage where it was hard to tell where the human parts ended and the robotics began!”

“That’s where the term Transhuman came from,” John interjected. “They were trying for a kind of immortality.”

Greg finished his drink and wiped his mouth.

“Out here in oldtime, the desert people had a saying; ‘Only the rocks live forever!’”

John took up the account.

“More and more, these people tried to change and control the natural way of things. Many of them believed in a thing called ‘the theory of evolution’. They had been told that men developed from fish and apes. The theory was that this happened over vast periods of time through gene mutations. Their reasoning was totally off the scanner, but they really believed that baloney! They saw themselves becoming more and more advanced in harmony with the machinery they inhabited. That way they could stay in control and become a new kind of master race; Transhumans!’ Course, what some of the highly placed politicos have developed goes way beyond anything you’ll encounter here.” He made a circular motion with his hand. “These are various grades of Transdyne Corporation standard models.”

“All is vanity, a chasing of the wind,” another voice said quietly.

Clay looked up to see a tall, distinguished looking figure standing just behind John. John half turned in his seat. “Hello, Rael,” he said. “I apologize for interrupting your discussion, John. Will you be coming over to studylearn with us? We were hoping you might help us further.” “Yes, I’ll be along as soon as we’ve finished. It has been a tiring day, so I can only work with you for a short time.”

“Thank you, John.” Rael smiled and went to walk away.

John leaned forward. “I told you they could wear me out.”

“Wait,” Clay said. “You’re a Tran?”

Rael turned and nodded.

“What was all that about vanity and chasing the wind? It sounded like pretty high studylearn.”

Rael looked at him attentively. “We have been considering the translations of a book called ‘Ecclesiastes’. The word for vanity in the book’s original tongue is
habel
. It is from the verbal root
habal -
to breathe
.
The image is one of mist, something illusory, something that won’t endure. It signifies emptiness - emptiness of reality.”

Clay stared openmouthed as Rael continued.

“When someone has not found peace of mind, their whole experience echoes that emptiness. Power, wealth or privilege do not serve to ease it. However, there is a remedy for this condition of heart and mind. Is this not so, John?”

John nodded as Clay shifted his gaze back to him.

Both John and Greg were grinning at him in obvious amusement now. Clay reminded himself that he had just been conversing with technology shrouded in frubber skin material. What could a Tran possibly know of concepts like peace of mind? Still disoriented, he watched Rael move away. When John had finished chuckling he said, “You’ll get used to it.” Greg threw back his head and once again let out a raucous laugh.

“Oh, yeah, you’ll get used to it, but I think it might take you a little while!” John finished his drink and stood up. “Guess I’d better move,” he said. “Studylearn?” Clay queried.

“That’s right.”

Clay hesitated for a second and then stood up too. “Can I come along?” he asked. John looked at him intently, reading his puzzled expression. “You sure you want to, after that?”

The outbuilding where they were meeting was set down into the landscape. Clay had to bend to avoid the imposing lintel beam above the entrance. Carved neatly into the wood was the word ‘Wisdom’.

The spacious interior was softly lit and went back a long way. Off to the sides were individual studylearn areas. He had expected the viewscreens, but he was surprised to see a whole collection of oldstyle books arrayed neatly on shelves. He was fascinated and began to examine them closely. Many of the bindings were battered. Some of them had gold lettering on the spines which caught the light and glittered.

He’d seen books before; Ahab had quite a collection.

He thought they looked beautiful. They invited perusal. He felt overawed in their presence. All of his limited studylearn had been accomplished on viewscreen and netgrid. He had learned basic numeracy and reading. The rest of his studylearn had been in areas his denfather had deemed useful for a future courier. Some of the material he had seen or heard would have been considered downright subversive. It certainly hadn’t been anything like the stuff fed to those attending tutorlearn sessions at State facilities. Now, standing before these ordered rows of books, he felt small and stupid.

He realized that he was looking at a vast accumulation of knowledge, and for the first time became conscious of just how ignorant he really was. The netgrid could stream data to a person. The illegal frequencies of netgrid might even fill in some of the blanks that the vulcanized State grid filtered out. There was a lot of data out there, but a person needed some real understanding to identify the areas worth pursuing. Clay realized that he hadn’t ever developed that critical faculty.

“Want to join us?” John called from the middle of the chamber.

Clay went over to the assembling group as they put seats in place. The seats were arranged in a circle around John. He sat in the centre so that he could address everyone and take questions from the group.

“So ladies and gentlemen, shall we start with prayer?”

It didn’t sound like a question, more a formality. John waited a second and motioned to someone sitting just out of the halo thrown from the soft overhead light source. A woman’s voice began speaking. Her head was bowed forward and Clay couldn’t catch all of what she said. She was thanking someone she called ‘heavenly father’ for the opportunity to gather together and at the end she asked his ‘blessing’ in the name of Jesus. There was a pause and those in the circle signalled their accord in the form of a loud word. It sounded as if they all said ‘amen’. As the word hung in the air, Clay noticed the speaker lean forward to pick up an old book from the floor at her feet. When she straightened up, he recognized the girl who had been sitting at the top of the dining bench during the meal.

He had meant to just quietly observe their session. Now his curiosity had been genuinely aroused. Before thinking about it, he blurted out; “What does ‘amen’ mean, John?”

“Well, we use it as a kind of an agreement word,” came the reply. “Like saying ‘Let it be so’.”

Clay wondered to whom the girl had been talking. He knew the name Jesus. His denfather had used it sometimes when he had become angry. Clay didn’t understand why she invoked a name he had only heard used as an expletive. Why had she used it to close whatever sort of address that had been? John had referred to it as ‘prayer’. He didn’t get it, but he figured he’d already drawn enough attention to himself. His other questions could wait until later.

“So, from where shall we start tonight?” John asked the group. Clay was taken with the confident way John spoke. He wouldn’t have been comfortable speaking to any group of people, but John seemed completely at ease. The public speakers Clay had heard had been loud and brash, haranguing their listeners, usually to make political points. John wasn’t at all like that.

His delivery was devoid of any swagger and he came over as confident, but certainly not arrogant. This was another aspect of behaviour new to Clay. He turned his seat around so that he straddled it and rested his folded arms on the backrest. A voice came from behind where Clay was sitting.

“John, we have been looking at the book of Ecclesiastes. It seems to be a collection of sayings about life. Can you clarify what Ecclesiastes means?” Around the circle, several others called out, “Yes, that would be helpful.” John leaned back in his seat. “Well,” he said. “The word rendered ‘Ecclesiastes’ comes from the Hebrew name Koheleth, meaning ‘Gatherer’, but it’s been traditionally translated as ‘Teacher’ or ‘Preacher’. ‘Koheleth’ is a name meaning one who calls people together, an assembler or a convener. It’s not a proper name, but it comes out of the root word ‘Kahal’ in the Hebrew language. It means ‘to call’. It was written to the man that walks under the sun. It is addressed to the soul living in a flesh body. Jewish and early Christian traditions credit the writings to King Solomon around 945 years before Christ.