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Authors: Alex Oldham

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BOOK: Wake Me In The Future
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It certainly does,
I thought. They'd had this market in the square for many years while I was alive and all I could offer Simon was a nod, frightened that speech would betray the feelings welling up in me.

I spent the next few hours visiting the familiar places I’d known in my previous life and I thoroughly enjoyed introducing my friends to the places I’d drunk, danced, or courted Helen in.

It was an education for them as well, as they listened to my stories of drinking in
Ye Old Trip to Jerusalem
, the oldest Inn in England, which nestled against, and into, the base of Castle Rock, beneath the now very impressive castle. Since its establishment in 1189 its historical links to Richard the Lionheart’s crusades to the holy land, notorious highwaymen and the Luddites of the Industrial revolution, emanated from its ancient façade.

The current population of this time seemed to have enthusiastically adopted the celebrations from every human culture and had created a few new ones besides. The desire to celebrate tradition and all the important events from every culture in the past seemed to serve an important function of confirming the humanity of these people, and keeping them grounded.

The celebration that was being prepared today, to be held alongside the medieval market was for Diwali, the festival of lights. Something that Helen and I had been very familiar with, often travelling the short distance to one of Britain's first
Indian
cities of Leicester, where it was celebrated with vigour. We descended on Maid Marion Way and as we walked down Friar Lane into the Market Square the bustle of the crowds gave it an atmosphere that reminded me of the Goose Fair; another annual event that my city hosted.

I wondered just how much the cycles of the seasons had changed because these events were normally held in the latter part of the year, yet it felt to me like the middle of summer.

We stood with our backs to the Old Council House and watched the myriad of colourful floating lights that danced in the air and followed the carnival as it made its way around the road that encompassed the Square. It was bright and noisy and made my head spin as I soaked in the atmosphere, and once again I felt the terrible cramps of loss for Helen. Then as the main part of the parade passed us I noticed a man in the crowd who seemed to be taking his clothes off! It surprised me as I thought we were in Open Society and this sort of thing was prohibited. As I watched the man quickly undress I realised that underneath his outer garments he was wearing a flesh coloured jumpsuit.

As I was about to look elsewhere, content that this must be a part of the celebrations and I wasn’t going to be subjected to a streaker; although I wondered what sort of reaction the crowd would have to such an event, I was amazed to see that the man seemed to be growing. In fact within the next ten seconds the suit he was wearing had expanded to about ten times its original size and was threatening to explode. The man began to float into the air, causing the people around him to run in all directions. Then I realised that the expanded jumpsuit carried familiar words across its expanse, ‘Cryogens unite. Don’t let them kill us all off – protect the humans.’
That message again.

A scurry of activity followed, and a crowd of what I later became aware of as police, and that these people called Upholders, raced towards the man. They were slightly taller than the average citizen but significantly more bulky. They reminded me of tall, lean Sumo wrestlers and they wore green uniforms with lightning blue stripes down the sides. As they rapidly approached the area where the man was floating, he suddenly grabbed the end of a pole that had extended from a window opposite and he began to be pulled back in; deflating as he disappeared through the window of a nearby building. I looked at Earl ‘What’s going on? That was the same message I saw on the vid-screen when Ankit was taking me to the Information centre.’

‘It’s the protesters again,’ said Simon, ‘come on, I think its time we left, before we get tangled up in all this panic.’

As we travelled back in the Hover Pod I asked Earl if he knew any Manoorans who lived on the surface.

'Not really Richard, when they first arrived on Earth almost all of them took to the security of the enclosed cities. After the constant exposure in their own skies I guess they prefer not to live in the open. So it’s doubtful if many would ever want to make a permanent home on the surface, but they do make up the bulk of tourists. It’s mainly Cryogens who live and work up here, who want to be more in contact with their past. Many feel it’s their responsibility to protect and preserve what’s left.

Having said that, the Manoorans value human history tremendously and you've probably learned that they want to eventually see it as theirs. I suppose it’s like when some Americans used to think of British history prior to 1492 as theirs. A sort of belonging, and I think that’s what the Manoorans are striving for.'

'It would be good if we could all get to that stage Earl.'

'We can only live in hope Richard.'

Looking down from the Hover Pod it was hard to believe that Helen and I had once sat in my Porsche and drove along the same route we were now travelling, albeit on the ground, through what was now nothing more than an overgrown forest.

As we entered the bunker to start on our journey back, I took one last look at the setting Sun, and as its life giving rays fell onto my face I thought to myself,
I wish I could take you with me
.

We met Ankit and Ramoon in the main square when we got back to India Prime. They were sitting, drinking and watching the other people enjoying the late evening. I took the opportunity of catching them in a relaxed mood to ask Ramoon once again, about joining the Cryogen project.

‘I’d really like to be involved with it Ramoon.’

‘Even after your trip to the surface?’ he asked, almost surprised. ‘It didn’t make you even a little bit envious of those Cryogens living up there together, surrounded by familiar landscape? I thought it might make you consider working up there yourself.’

‘No,’ I said, ‘it was a great experience but I’d still like to be involved with the Cryogen project.’

I was getting the feeling that Ramoon was trying to put me off, and I wondered if the day's trip had also been a deliberate attempt to present me with an alternative to the Cryogen project. Well, he’d got no chance, there was only one priority in my mind at the moment, and that was finding my wife.

‘Perhaps I should explain,’ he went on, ‘that although you’d normally be accepted without question to the project, the current uncertainty regarding your wife means we have to be certain that your motivation isn’t due to that particular obsession. Remember that the majority now being revived are only suitable to be reborn; you were one of only a few exceptions. Will you be able to cope with it Richard, if you do find out that Helen is lost to you?’

‘I can assure you the answer to that question is
yes
Ramoon
,
and I can also assure you that my main allegiance would be to the Cryogen project, I am confident I can control my personal feelings in this matter.’

This was a lie and I had my fingers crossed behind my back, but there was no way I was going to jeopardise my chances of being accepted to the project.

‘Then I’ll put your name forward to the board.’

I was over the moon. I stifled the crippling desire to push the issue by asking when I might be able to start. But, however much I wanted to scream at Ramoon and demand to be taken to the institute immediately so that I could begin my search for Helen, I couldn’t afford to show my impatience.

Ramoon looked at me and changing the subject said, ‘Don’t worry about those protesters Richard, we’re close to finding them and getting them the help they need.’

‘Why,’ I asked, ‘what’s actually wrong with them?’ I knew what I’d been told by my friends but I wanted to hear it from Ramoon.

‘They can’t accept the fact that we’re having difficulty reviving more of their kind and they're suffering from a psychosis that makes them believe we’re actually trying to kill them.’ and with a laugh that just didn’t seem genuine said, ‘Of course we’re not.

One of the things you’ll learn on the Cryogen project is that some of the subjects that initially seem to have been successfully revived go on to manifest severe defects, some time after re-integration. These defects generally manifest themselves as serious paranoid psychosis.’

I wondered if they’d considered if this might be happening to me, but was too afraid to ask, and Ramoon went on.

‘They avoid social contact and gradually fade from Open Society into one of the more peripheral groups; usually ones with a high degree of paranoia. They’re convinced that everyone,’ he paused and looked at the floor before looking up again and continuing, ‘well, we Manoorans anyway, are out to kill them all.’

‘That’s just not true Richard,’ interrupted Ankit, ‘there’s no evidence and no reason that this would be so anyway. Why would we want to extinguish the original human race when it was us that began to revive you survivors in the first place? Our biggest regret now, is that we’re unable to fully revive most of the Cryogens that are left.’

I appreciated this contribution from Ankit because I was finding it more and more difficult to believe anything that came out of Ramoon's mouth.

Ramoon continued though, as if wanting to take every opportunity to convince anyone that would listen, how wrong the protesters were. ‘These people have serious faults Richard, and their paranoia makes them potentially dangerous, but rest assured we are tracking them down so we can help them fully integrate into a new society. They’ll all be treated with behavioural modifications and if all else fails….’ He didn’t finish his sentence.

I couldn’t help what came out of my mouth next, ‘I’d best ignore any more attempts they make to contact me in future then,’ I said, almost looking forward to seeing the reaction this might illicit.

I wasn’t disappointed. Ramoon almost choked on his drink, ‘Puuuh! What do you mean!’ he spat almost angrily, ‘have you been in contact with the protesters?’ And for a brief moment I saw beneath the thin veneer of friendliness that masked the true hatred that lay beneath.

‘Not really,’ I replied taken aback, then went on to tell him and Ankit about the vision I'd had in the library.

‘If anything like that happens to you again Richard you need to will the image away as strongly as you can, and when it’s gone, contact me immediately.’

‘I will,’ I said, trying to sound convincing, but not being overly comfortable with the concerned look I noticed pass between Ramoon and Ankit. Was I beginning to sense a hint of collusion between these two Manooran officials?

That night as I was falling to sleep I couldn’t help re-living my trip to the surface. The memories it had triggered were so vivid and as I drifted into sleep, what began to appear to me, must have been dictated by the experience, because the dreams, and frustration over my search for Helen, once again took me on a voyage into our previous life.

Chapter 17
- Something to Live For

During that last year at school, my parents, my teachers, and just about every adult I knew, pestered me to consider what I wanted to do with my future. Of course, I was at that age when I didn’t want to consider anything beyond the end of each week; the future would sort itself out. All I knew was that I’d promised myself not to end up like my father, and fall into the defeatist mindset and negative attitude, that affected so many of the people where we lived. The Estate, with its run down houses, abandoned and burned out cars and even more burned out and dejected people, just typified what I thought had been wrong with the country. A downward spiral of lethargy and dependence, easier to fall into than escape, supported by a system that crushed aspirations before they could ever take hold, and slowly and surely locking people into a poverty trap. No, if I could help it, I was going to escape from that particular fate. But unlike most young adults alive in my time, I wasn't going to do it by becoming a movie star, footballer or pop star – or any other way that was perceived as an easy route to wealth, those ways bought fame and I'd never craved that. No, I was going to have to put some effort into it.

And I had my mother to thank for her determination and constant encouragement, which imbued me with a great sense of self belief, and it was that which drove me to seek my independence. I’d got fed up with other people always trying to make decisions for me; I was going to make those decisions myself, and I had my natural intelligence, although not fully applied at school, to help me do it.

All these attributes supported me through college, where, through sheer hard work, I got the qualifications needed to secure the job I’d set my heart on. But every step of the way had been a challenge, seeing my friends in well paid jobs, able to buy clothes and go out and enjoy themselves whenever they wanted, while I slogged away at my studies. But one of the few things that had really influenced me, that had stuck in my mind from my Sociology classes at college, was the principle of deferred gratification. Making sacrifices now for greater rewards in the future; and that’s how I’d seen my struggle through college, all for a greater reward further down the line.

And it came, eventually; I got the job in the IT department of a high street bank and everyone thought I’d made it, especially when the money started rolling in and I’d rented rooms in the city close to my work, and most especially, once I’d bought my nice sleek sports car.

Memories of Helen, and what might have been, had haunted my thoughts on occasions, but I’d resigned myself to those thoughts just being wishful thinking and that by now she’d probably have had the pick of the best and was irrevocably lost to me. I’d been so driven by my goal of getting my dream job that I’d had no time for serious affairs. Like school, these latest experiences had been short and unemotional, which fit just nicely into the time I had to give to them. But I’d eventually started to dream of a more stable relationship and Helen kept coming back to my mind.
Surely she’d been snapped up,
I thought, and I’d never see her again. How many times had I cursed myself for being such a coward and not standing up to Jason and the gang culture that I’d been sucked into at school? It might have been so different.

BOOK: Wake Me In The Future
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