Part 59 - Chapter 11: Home, at Last (1/2)
WHEN THE EARTH QUAKES
Spring 2082
Not so long ago, when the human body started to age and no longer functioned as well as it used to in its youth, mankind tended to see this natural evolution as a dysfunction, a problem to be solved by science or medicine. Today's men have come to understand that natural evolution won't stop for them and that whatever science, technology, and medicine offer them won't change the fact that the end will be inevitable sooner or later.
Have men of the early 2080s finally come to terms with death?
Of course not!
I said: they have come to understand. I didn't use the word accept. But at least, they have resigned themselves to accepting the fear of dying rather than working so hard to kill death. The wisdom that the tragic events of this 21st century seemed to have urged us to learn wasn't much different from that of our grandparents. In fact, it was exactly the same: "There's nothing special about us in this vast diverse world apart from our awareness, so let's make good use of it!"
The fear of dying or losing loved ones has always haunted men since the dawn of time, but by looking more closely at our behaviour, which is also found in all animals, we can realise that it isn't so much death that scares men as the fear of losing everything they believe they possess: their body, their relationships, their ideas, their thoughts, their possessions, their status, their time, their personality, their memory, their landmarks... It is this fear that ends up driving a handful of men insane. The latter keeps accumulating more and more in the hope of being able to, by exception of the rule of life, keep it all and more. Unfortunately, even if they managed to swallow everything and kept it all until the dawn of time, the fear in their stomach wouldn't go away, quite the opposite. It is very likely that they suspect this too, and that is why they have been so relentless throughout centuries.
Today, an earthquake occurred. Nothing catastrophic these days, especially where we are located. However, the earth shook us enough to remind us that our lives were vulnerable and unpredictable despite all our knowledge. It is another beautiful lesson for humility which we continue to have occasionally in this century. If men look closely at all their advanced technological and scientific creations, they will see that with each solution they have found, they have in fact created a greater problem. I'm not against science and technology per say, but it seems obvious to me that a holistic approach, which accepts the original diversity of this world, is more than necessary considering the succession of traumas we have been inflicting on ourselves and the planet.
Today, an earthquake occurred, and the earth shook us more than usual, reminding me that every moment could become the last. I had almost forgotten. Charlene and I were sitting in her favourite spot in the house: by the living room window. We had chosen an autumn hologram to appreciate a landscape that has long since disappeared: veils and carpets of red, orange, yellow, purple, brown and green leaves under a sunny blue sky. Unlike humans, nature fully embraces the eternal cycle of birth and death. It considers neither to be more crucial than the other. Lynne, who has come to spend the weekend with us, was playing music in her bedroom. We could hear the soft whistling of her trumpet echoing throughout the house like the reminder that the earth was about to give us: the breath of life is a gift that can be taken back by life at any moment.
Charlene particularly enjoys listening to Lynne playing the trumpet because she loves jazz although the piece our daughter was playing earlier didn't sound like jazz. We had never heard her play that melody before. Our two bodies were sitting silent and still next to technology as we were listening to our child's breath passing through the thin corridor of time like a spy sneaking through the gaping door of the exit. Softened by the sweet melody, we probably didn't immediately realise the small tremors at our feet.
Suddenly, the walls began to dance, swaying from side to side while the furniture and objects around us began to jump in all directions before smashing on the floor in a horrific cacophony. The breath in Lynne's trumpet stopped, leaving the terrifying noise to spread in the entire house. Charlene grabbed my hand dragging me under the large dining table which she deemed strong enough to take a big blow without crushing us under like bugs. I probably would have preferred the door frame, but this wasn't the time for any argument. If I can question some of Charlene's choices, I would never question her ability to save her life and the lives of others. Like many survivors of the artificial intelligence camps, she has been conditioned for the rest of her life to survive with her instinct and intuition as her sole GPS; her body has now become a useful instrument.
When silence settled shyly around us, Charlene slowly got out from under the table to head for the stairs. I followed her, still in shock.
"Lynne!" She called out in a firm and strong voice. Our daughter appeared on top of the stairs. She looked as shaken as the rest of us, but she seemed fine.
"I'm alright mum," her voice answered from the top of the stairs as Charlene began to assess whether she could cautiously attempt to venture on the steps. "Don't come up, mum, it's dangerous. Let me come down to join you," Lynne said almost immediately.
Our daughter is as tall as her mother and me, but she isn't very heavy even for a woman her age today.
"Take it easy," I exclaimed from the bottom of the stairs as calmly as possible.
Lynne began to go down the stairs very slowly, step by step while keeping her gaze on us. I felt my anxiety rising as I was looking at her. The probability that our staircase had been damaged was very low. The foundation of our house is strong and we installed additional precaution measures a few years ago following the resurgence of earthquakes in our area. My anxiety could be considered as completely normal, but also disproportionate to the situation. If the stairs happened to fall or to collapse, Charlene or myself would be able to come to her rescue. Our daughter is in excellent physical shape. Yes, she could hurt herself, but unless some tragic event occurred, her injury wouldn't be fatal. As my reflection slowly eased my anxiety, I heard a cracking sound above our heads. I barely had time to look up when Charlene was already knocking both of us several feet to the ground as I heard a loud crash. Lynne screamed.
A huge chunk of the ceiling had come off and collapsed exactly where Charlene and I had been standing. Lynne still stood halfway down the stairs, completely frozen, her heart panting, she asked timidly:
"Dad, mum! Are you okay?"
"We're fine, get out of there quick. We need to get out of the house," Charlene replied. She had already got up and was dusting herself off gently. She stretched a hand to help me back up on my feet. I looked at her with a grateful smile as she returned my smile with a wink. Like some actors and stunt actors, Charlene knew how to fall without hurting herself. Physiotherapist by profession, she had learnt the skill by herself during her fifteen years in the AI camp. Anything that can happen now is nothing compared to what she has been through inside the camp.
After so many years living with Charlene, I understand why the countries colonised by artificial intelligence wanted to draw a line on this horrid chapter of their history without giving up on technology: Men no longer knew to do without the latter even if it had betrayed them. On the other hand, the survivors of the camps lived only to remember the betrayal of Mankind through technology. As with my own trauma, Charlene's trauma consists of both her greatest strength and her greatest vulnerability.
Was this what the cyborg meant to explain to us on the bench in the park?
Human intelligence in the service of artificial intelligence against mankind! Even the strongest foundations and advanced technology wouldn't be able to do anything about it.
"The enemy is fear. We think it is hatred but, it is fear" (Mahatma Gandhi)
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