CHAPTER TWENTY
"The danger of the past was that men became slaves. The danger of the future is that man may become robots." - Erich Fromm
"Harry, where have you been? We've been expecting you for quite some time. Barry needs to see you right away."
"Good to see you, too, Sam." Harry smiled to see if the sarcasm was lost on Sam; however, his usual Cheshire-Cat smile was gone, indicating this meeting with Barry must be serious indeed.
Although puzzled at this reception, he entered the hall with the confidence of an owner. As he scanned the massive room for Barry, he saw quite a few familiar and many, many new faces. He didn't see Dar or Desiree. He spotted a man standing in front of a group instructing them on various social protocols. Harry had seen instructors like this before in his vidchips. Inside, Cyber programs did the instructing so there could be no unfortunate Bio-to-Bio contact. Bio presentation like this was going to be necessary in the new order. As he passed another group, he overheard another rebel addressing six or seven individuals.
"We need to gain control of the Cyber that run our lives. We've got to take back that control any way we can—destroy them all if need be."
"Just what exactly are you advocating, sir?" They stared at Harry, obviously perturbed by his interruption, but Harry couldn't help himself. "Are you proposing to destroy all the Cyber? Now? All at once?"
"Would that be so bad?" asked the presenter.
"Can you fly a hovercar, sir?
"Yes, of course."
"Don't you mean the vehicle goes where you tell it, following a global grid memory? The hovercar pretty much drives itself doesn't it? All you do is sit in it?"
The man shrugged and nodded agreement. Harry kept going.
"I think we need Cyber for some things until we learn to do for ourselves some of the tasks we gave to them in the first place."
"That could take a long time," the man said impatiently.
"Yes, you're right. It will take time. But I think there is a better way than using violence. We just have to find it."
"Is that it?" the man asked. "You leave us searching for answers. You have no answers of your own? Well, that's great—just great!" The man proclaimed sarcastically, more to himself than anything.
"I have a few answers," Harry said. "But I don't have all of them..."
"Neither do we." The man folded his arms, his body language saying he was refusing to listen. Harry knew better.
"Yes, you do...all of you do, and we need all the answers we can get," he insisted agreeably. Harry wanted answers himself. "You have a good start here," he said to the lecturer, and turned to the group as a whole. "Each of you has ideas, and different experiences. Share them."
"You mean pool our ideas and pick the best one?" a twenty-something female member of the group asked.
"Not necessarily. That's one way. Actually that's more like Cyber logic. Instead, why not use Bio logic as well? Use individual ideas to examine possible solutions to our problem. You can combine ideas. Use things like intuition, a facility the cyberservers don't have. It may help you reach a unified goal. I bet some of you'll get more ideas from hearing others state theirs."
"Will you help us?" another member of the group asked.
"You have someone—a natural leader who can direct your progress toward a common goal," Harry indicated the man he had been verbally jousting with.
"Who are you, stranger?" the man asked.
"My name is Harry. Who are you?" Harry smiled and extended his hand.
"I've heard of you. My name's Bob. Glad to meet you, Harry," he said.
"Bob! Bob! Bob!" Several different voices rang out from the group. Hands were anxiously reaching for the ceiling. "I have an idea...." "Remember when you said..." "On that issue..."
Bob's raised and outstretched hand signaled stop. "You...we will all get a chance to express our ideas. We just need some order now, please."
Harry moved away from the group. He turned and winked at Bob and waved at the group.
"Thanks, Harry," said Bob with genuine gratitude in a voice audible only to himself, but the message to all was loud and clear: Harry may be worth the trouble after all.
Harry spied Sam again as he approached Barry's office at the end of the large general purpose room. Evidently, Sam had witnessed the short debate. Obviously pleased, he couldn't hide his pleasure from Harry.
"We are learning, Harry, slowly but surely, " said Sam. "We don't want mistakes this time."
Harry was feeling philosophical. "I don't know, Sam. Without some mistakes, we can't have change. Without change, there is no passion or zeal for making the future."
"Is that one of your historical tidbits?" Sam asked.
"No," said Harry. "Just something I've recently discovered. The real world is more complicated than anything Makr can throw at us."
Everything went black.
.
Flash. Bright, steady light. Darkness. A sound now—a hum really. Digital noise gradually became melodious and hypnotic. Unexpectedly, the image of a horribly deformed Bio with a sledgehammer hovered above his head, but Harry's cranium wasn't the target; the hammer moved up and down, crushing shiny, crystalline pieces of cybert exteriors. Some of the cyberts laid out on the table were hauntingly beautiful, with a shimmering metal skin glowing with a heavenly aura, and sensors that looked like innocent Bio eyes. The dismembered cybert bodies and limbs randomly distributed on the table had graceful lines, showing Harry a side of Cyber he'd never seen before. He examined the undersides of the limbs, an arm by Bio definition, filled with colorful wires and shiny moving parts. He'd never regarded Cyberts as a work of beauty, or art—until now.
He heard the crash of the sledgehammer before he saw the shiny crystal body parts disintegrate into a million pieces. He winced, disgusted, horrified and sick to his stomach as the sledgehammer fell again and again.
He thought-blinked twice in a row. No good! No change! It is getting harder to control these dreams during the day. A third time.
Reality! The Watering Hole.
He sensed a few odd looks from the Touchables but knew he couldn't do anything about it now. Less than halfway to Barry's office, he heard laughter—lots of it, which gave him pause.
"A funny thing happened to me on the way to The Watering Hole..." This was unlike his experience with Bob's group. This speaker was giving a monologue. Not until Harry heard a couple of reflections and opinions offered by the speaker did he comprehend the purpose of the speech. Of course, he'd seen it before, humorists, comedians, clowns... What's the other term? Stand-up? Yes, that's it. Naturally he had seen stand-up comedy in his vids, but even knowing the purpose he didn't see the humor in it. But at least this guy was trying, and Harry wouldn't have tried it himself.
The comedian was testing new ground, making an attempt at public performance, a thing of the past. Standing on a make-shift stage made of several cloth-covered form-fitting sitting cubes pushed together, he delivered what he assumed would amuse his audience, delivering archived jokes from the past; some had been modified to make them contemporary or at least understandable to this audience, and some Harry didn't recognize as jokes at all. The audience watched him more as a curiosity, a pioneer artist, than an entertainer. In an effort to be supportive, the audience laughed on cue at some of the most inane, inept musings and unfunny jokes.
Upon seeing Harry, the comedian announced deliberately and loudly, "Heeeeeere's Harry!" There was much laughter and applause. Not so much for Harry, but for the man on stage.
Harry smiled and waved his acknowledgement. Thinking he was being introduced and expected to say something, he started for the stage. The audience's attention was once again riveted on the comedian who was telling tales of his awful childhood—a childhood that was really no different than anyone else's.
Harry redirected his steps to the back room where he thought Barry might be found. Barry, seeing him heading his way, met him at the door.
"Harry, how are you?" Barry extended his han
d warmly, patting Harry on the back as he led him inside.
"Fine, fine, Barry."
"Sit, sit, Harry."
Harry sat.
"Desiree gave me your message."
Barry sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment. When he finally spoke, it was still small talk.
"So...what do think of the comic?"
"Comic...comic?" Harry was stumped until he was able to make the connection. "Oh yes, the gentleman on the stage." It had taken him a few seconds to remember the archaic word he had only seen once or twice. "Are those jokes he's telling?"
"In a primitive sense. Joke telling is a rather ancient art form. No one has heard jokes from an actual person since well before we were all born—especially like these. Unless you know something I don't, we've only heard the barely entertaining cyberstories laced with Makr messages—both obvious and subliminal. No Bio has told them in our lifetime. I think Tricky Dick does us proud."
"I beg your pardon. Tricky Dick?"
"The comic," Barry answered.
Harry was busy remembering... That nickname. He had seen it before...in another context, perhaps? Nothing... Can't have been too important.
"He just thought the name sounded funny. I think it does, don't you?"
Harry smiled sympathetically, agreeing, while he contemplated the implications and possible scope of Bio entertainment. In his SensaVision world, he was an entertainer of sorts, but he was what Makr wanted him to be. He had no control of the image he presented to other Bios; they probably didn't even see the real Harry, his image being more often that of an authority figure. Is that how the Touchables see me? An authority figure?
Sometimes you can't help yourself, Harry thought. He was what he was: what Makr made him to be. Suddenly disgusted, he didn't care much for his SensaVision position anymore. Once proud to be so close to Makr, interpreting Bio behavior while sending important Makr messages, now he felt part of the problem, responsible for the enslavement and subjugation of all Bios on the planet. It was a heavy burden he would have to deal with soon, but now he needed some diversion.
However, this Touchable entertainment was far different and the possibilities wide open by Touchable standards. It had the potential for giving joy, for being comforting and warm. Poking fun at convention, voicing opinions, exaggerating facts? He found himself examining once again his place in this society so infested with contact crimes. Well, they certainly didn't hide it. Even their name said it all. Was he here to develop Touchable entertainment? Surely that wasn't it. There had to be some other reason Barry was so anxious to see him.
Barry broke into Harry's thoughts unceremoniously and asked him if he had heard about jokes before...or read about them in his hobby collection.
He had, yes. Harry reported. "Some jokes were considered in bad taste, and could hurt people so they were outlawed a century ago."
"Yes, but don't you feel they have some value?" Elder Barry asked rhetorically. "We think Tricky Dick's achievement is a beginning. Hopefully we can prevent the result you refer to."
Harry's polite smile was tentative at best.
"Besides, I think it's good to smile."
"I agree with you on that," Harry said. "Smiling does make you feel good."
"The Board is interested in it for morale's sake," Barry added. "We don't need bored people here. You do agree, don't you? With all the negativity in the world, we need to keep ourselves entertained." He sighed. "We don't have the pleasure of, nor do we desire, SensaVision fantasies in The Watering Hole." He stopped, waiting to gauge Harry's reaction.
Unsure of what to say, Harry maintained his polite smile and furrowed his brow as though he was contemplating Barry's words.
With a sigh of resignation, Barry inferred what he thought Harry might say if he were so inclined...
"Unfortunately, we don't even know how to be an audience and interact with one another properly. That's what everyone is doing here. Learning. This is our way of training for a new world. We're training to get along, training to get over our fear of each other, training to not take ourselves too seriously..."
"Seems to me you're doing a great job so far, Barry."
"Not so good, Harry. You see us more clearly than we see ourselves. That's why we need you. You have the knowledge and a remarkable innate sense of who we are. And there's another thing..."
"My thought-blinking?"
"Yes, but that's not the main reason you're here. You're close to Makr yet you are able to see through His illusions. That's true enough. You can help those people Inside to accept the world as it is without the fantasy. You can help us understand the world as it should be again."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I can't—we can't be sure, but we need guidance, Harry. Your especially suited."
"What do I do? Tell me how I can help because I have absolutely no idea. Are you sure you don't have me mixed up with someone else?"
"No, Harry, we're sure we have the right one, the One of the Prophecy."
"I'd never even heard of the Prophecy before I met you Touchables."
"To be perfectly honest, we weren't sure what to make of it either. We promoted it though."
"Why?"
"To give hope. To give the Touchables a reason for living. When we discovered Makr was playing with our reality, too, many became depressed. We'd always been a positive lot. The kicker came when we discovered we'd have no defense against Makr's latest upgrade."
"The DNA-based Cyber system?"
"How? Oh yes, Donna told you. Not really an upgrade but a whole new system—smaller, real-time simultaneous analysis and a vast data storage capacity. What do you know about it?"
"Not much really. Just that it's much faster at processing data."
"The speed is mind-boggling. Makr will operate in a totally seamless environment. Until now, we've managed to exist, have a moment or two of freedom in the glitches and be confident Makr couldn't be totally everywhere at once. We always had time to evacuate if we were discovered, but now... We've lost the only edge we had. We'll never be able to stop it—especially if we have to wade through a maze of SensaVision realities."
"You need me to see through SensaVision for you."
"Very perceptive of you, Harry. We thought we had a Makr-free reality out here. We don't know the extent of Makr's influence though, and that's where you can help. You wouldn't have to do it all yourself. We'd help. Hopefully you can train others here to see the signs you can see. We think some of our emotives would be good candidates for training."
"It's a tall order," Harry commented.
Barry nodded.
"Yes, it is, but a necessary one. Look, I don't even know that's possible. All I know is that we have to try."
Barry was relieved. After effectively transferring his burden to Harry, he returned to the diversion at hand.
"You're right, I suppose," he said. "We'll have to be careful and watch what the comic says."
"Are you sure that's what you want to do?"
Anyone Harry knew had lived totally censored lives with the exception of these Touchables, and he barely knew them.
"Are you saying total freedom to say what you think is better?"
Barry was pleased. His new recruit had demonstrated unique wisdom—the very reason he was the chosen one.
"Well, if you say so, Harry."
"It's not because I say it, Barry. But, I do think we need to restrict our freedoms wisely—limiting that to more important issues...like preventing bodily harm. I don't know. I believe censorship, controlling other freedoms, may be why you and your Touchables are here. All our lives we've been taught what to think and you've rebelled against that."
"And you?"
Harry's shrug was his answer.
"Yes, well, that's for later." Barry paused for a moment. "Desiree says you're still on the fence. It's okay, give it some time."
"I...I just don't know yet."
Harry, drawn to the Touchable world, was conflicted by what he kne
w to be a good and pleasant place, the sanctuary of whatever he needed, but it put him in an extremely precarious position—dangerous even. He had a home that was filled with only happy feelings, where a normal society said he belonged—Inside. His mind was swimming with the new information he had been given.
Barry made it easy for Harry by changing the subject.
"I know you're right about the comic. Tell you what. We'll let him say whatever he wants." He smiled broadly. "I'm also convinced, Harry, we made the right decision in recruiting you."
"What?"
"Bringing you here, I mean." Barry leaned back in his chair.