Alexandria.
© Tim Barker 2000
" When planets tumble
from the skies
And you see things with your
own eyes
That make you want to leave
your home
Do not look back, roam.
Alexandria is real -
biblio66 "
Anonymous.
(Graffiti on a Vid Booth,
2152)
Dissatisfaction.
Alexandria
is a planet, somewhere in the vicinity of the Outer Rim. After the devolution
of the Federal Alliance it had become a far flung outpost of multi-cultural
civilisation. All the desperadoes from the neighbouring war torn planets had
populated the law free haven as it was protected by a great Neuronic Shield[1]
which disabled the electronics of any ship attempting to enter without the
proper key. This ensured a very select population.
At least this is what the Lore told. The location of
Alexandria was a well kept secret. Most people doubted its existence.
Morando was from the planet Pathos. Recent events in the
Outer Rim had surprised almost everyone in the galaxy, including Morando
himself and his fellow Patholeans. For generations the populations of the Outer
Rim had enjoyed a prosperous, mutually-beneficial commercial and cultural
trade. Now it seemed as though years of careful diplomacy had simply been
forgotten, jettisoned to the darkest regions of the Universe. Hostilities had
broken out between planets and, even on the planets themselves, rising tides of
Nationalism had caused fighting between natives and their neighbours. War was
everywhere. Morando needed to find a way out for his family and their future.
But, not only them, he must find a solution to this nightmare for the sake of
all the inhabitants of the Outer Rim.
The trouble had been brewing for a number of years now.
Much corruption amongst the higher ranking members of the Alliance officialdom
had become blatantly obvious to all but the most ignorant of the Rims citizens.
Unrest had first appeared on a small scale : graffiti, mass-media jamming,
small highly organised meetings. Gradually, as popular support mounted,
violence increased on the streets, no longer was it gangs that fought each
other but gangs who joined together to show dissent by attacking security
forces and Government buildings.
Morando had watched it all with disbelief. What had
happened to the ordered society he had grown up with ? Sure, there was
corruption but that was inherent in any society, people will never stop helping
each other and themselves at the expense of others. Maybe things had been
getting out of hand recently though. The arguments presented by the Borundian
Government of destroying nine percent of the population to reduce oxygen
depletion seemed rather strange when it may have been possible to have repaired
the ozone layer for the same cost. Then there were the rumours that the
inhabitants weren't actually destroyed but shipped to other parts of the galaxy
for medical experiment’s !
Of course, maybe the subversives had started the rumours
or even 'interfered' with the news. There was no way of assessing the extent of
their influence. He just couldn't be sure of anything anymore. For Morando
there seemed to be just one course of action - escape to a less confusing
environment with his family where he could think things over. Maybe he could
find a way into Alexandria.
A Passage.
The
alley was semi-lit by Overhead Night Lights, casting artificial twilight
shadows over many possible hiding places for all manner of creatures. Morando’s
senses were on full alert. There was no telling what could appear from those
God forsaken recesses.
He'd began with a cryptic message and a bulletin board
address. A chain of such calls had brought him to this location, an old seldom
visited sector of this vast urban sprawl they still called a city. Following
lead after lead he'd finally hooked into some 'board which contained a list of
seven places. He'd chosen this particular one not for its proximity to his cell
but because he'd guessed it would be one of the safest. The list read like a
who's who of places to go to have horrible things done to ones person.
He edged along nervously, taking care not to step in
seemingly noxious puddles, no doubt remnants of a chemical industry long since
relocated. The unearthly silence caused a chill to run down Morando’s spine.
This was, however, intermittently interrupted by great clouds of steam rising
from the subterranean vaults like captured dragons airing their disapproval.
Morando considered what lay beneath him, networks of labyrinths harbouring the
even seedier side of City Life. More than once he must have questioned the
insanity of the whole situation which had driven him to this desperate course
of action. What was that old idiom : desperate times called for desperate
measures ?
He edged forward, determined to find the address. There,
on the left, a larger old metal door, rivets providing a neat border in
contrast to the many hues of corroded metal of its uneven surface. As he got
closer he could discern that the door had actually been hammered, obviously by
much force, so that the sheet metal hung on the underlying frame like an old
smokers drawn in cheeks clinging to the bones below. He looked closer at this
characteristic entrance. At first his mind didn't accept it but yes, it was :
trails of dried blood and finger nail scratches adorned the door. His face
screwed up, repulsion. Someone had been desperate. He checked the hard copy
again, yep, correct address. OK, let's try a knock.
He knew, without trying, that a rap with the knuckles
would have little effect. The door would consider that a tickle, a mere stroke.
He scanned 'round the door. There was no other means of attracting attention so
with fist screwed up as tight as possible he lifted his arm above his shoulder,
gritted his teeth, aimed for the middle and let go an almighty blow right to the
belly of his bold adversary. No effect, whatsoever. There seemed little point
in hammering on the door relentlessly like a madman so he began to look around
for something to strike it with.
Turning his back to the door and bending over, searching
amongst the assorted collection of debris, he felt a heavy object that could
comfortably be held in one hand. Just as he stood up and began to turn around,
someone spoke.
"Morando Collins ?", a well educated bass voice
intoned.
Morando hurriedly completed his turn. The door had
opened, silently, and now beheld a middle-aged man of average height dressed in
long white baggy robes and sporting closely cropped silver grey hair and beard.
From behind extra intensity white light burst forward out into the alleyway,
revealing even more of its grotesque obscenities. Morando could not understand
why he had not noticed the light before the man had spoken.
Morando replied, "Yes, but who, how...?"
The man interrupted, "No time now. Please follow
me." With that he turned and walked into the light.
Morando could say no more at this point. The whole scene
was just too fantastic and over dramatic. Of course, he followed, perplexed.
Reality.
The
light was so terrifically blinding that Morando couldn't help but close his eyes.
This was an unavoidable cause of frustration, it's not natural to enter an
unknown situation with eyes closed. He remembered years ago when his Mother had
taken him to the fair. He'd wanted to try the new Total Sensory Simulation[2]
game, the sole aim being to complete the duration of the show without
unstrapping from the machine. However, after so much anticipation and pleading
with his Mother to take him when he eventually interfaced he simply closed his
eyes. Of course, this didn't stop the other senses from signalling the
environment but he came out feeling a complete coward. This was how he now
felt. After airing so many objections about the state of the collapsing social
fabric around him he was again closing his eyes at the opportunity to escape.
Although this time he had the good excuse of the possibility of damage to his
eyes. This didn't stop the guilty feelings though.
As he walked forward, eyes closed, other senses searching
for news of his location, Morando thought of his wife and the two children.
Liona fully supported his notions, indeed they had arrived at the conclusion
together. They couldn't allow the children to grow up in that City. No matter how
hard they tried to steer them along the right path they were bound to get
involved in something unsavoury. There were just too many opportunities for
mischief. He was doing the right thing and there's nothing cowardly about that.
Morando emerged from his thoughts as the old man spoke
which coincided with a feeling of great space around him. They had walked an
unknown distance down what felt like a corridor and had now, seemingly, emerged
into a huge warehouse or cavern. The light was still too bright for Morando to
open is eyes. He felt extremely vulnerable.
"Right, you can stop there for a minute please.
Hmmm....good.
Now, my name is Biblio66."
The bulletin board address, Morando thought.
"I believe that you're attempting to find
Alexandria, am I right ?"
Morando eagerly replied, "Yes, well, that is, if it
exists. I've heard stories of it since..."
"Yes, yes, never mind that now", Biblio66
interrupted again. "What's important is your desire to be somewhere else.
You see, Alexandria is not so much a place as a concept, a secret society, if
you like, of like-minded people who want to change the way they live."
Pangs of disappointment shot through Morando’s mind.
Alexandria not real ? All those stories, all of his and Lionas hopes and
desires. The children !
"You see", continued Biblio66, "think
about it. What would make a better society and environment for you and your
family ? It's not the actual place where you'd be living but the people that
you'd be living with. Now, if you can simply avoid contact with people that you
believe would have a bad influence on your life and only communicate with those
who share your beliefs, for a better and safer world, shall we say, then there
you have it. In effect, your own little paradise, tailor-made to suit your
needs."
Morando continued to listen.
"So, what we
at Alexandria Corporation actually do is interview you and your family in order
to assess your needs. We can subsequently match your beliefs, aspirations,
morals ( in short your whole personality ) with others, of course allowing for
a certain tolerance constant, as no two minds are quite the same, you know.
We have also found that, through experience ( we have
been in the Social Transplant field for sixty years now ) that it's necessary
to ensure the correct social class mixture. What use would a society of
middles-class intellectuals be, after all ?"
Biblio66 chuckled at this last remark. At first Morando
had felt disappointed at the prospect of Alexandrian non-existence. But now, as
Biblio66 spoke, he began to see the wisdom in his philosophy. He said nothing,
allowing Biblio66 to describe how Morandos innermost desires could be
realistically achieved.
Different Worlds.
"First
of all let me show you how we achieve our Virtual Communication", said
Biblio66 to Morando, who by now had opened his eyes. He was in some kind of
laboratory. Biblio' had a bottle in one hand and some kind of elaborate head
set in the other. He gestured Morando towards a chair. Morando sat down,
watching closely as Biblio66 took a bright yellow pill from the bottle, handing
it to Morando.
"Here, take this. It'll put you into a state more
conducive to the comms." Morando took the pill and swallowed. Biblio66
lowered the head set over Morando’s head.
The world shuddered as Morando entered a state of
oneness. Points of light twisted and turned in his inner sight and coloured
lines sped off in all three-dimensional directions. Green, red and blue geometric
entities appeared then vanished, fading in and out in a variety of styles. Some
would materialise out of squares which randomly assembled to form the
appropriate shape, others seemed to twist into existence from nothing. Morando
stretched out his hand. It moved, responding to his unconscious thoughts as if
it were his own. Indeed, in this world it is his own. The form, of course,
being an approximation, was not instantly recognisable but to the person whom
controlled that hand all notion of approximation was irrelevant. Reality is
what the senses perceive and Morando’s senses were perceiving this strange and
beautiful world before him.
He turned his head, the field of vision moved
accordingly. The abstract images still came and went in weird and wonderful
ways. Over on his left, close to an artificial horizon, the skeleton of some
long forgotten dinosaur looked his way as it tramped towards the edge and let
out a silent roar. It was only then that he became aware of the sounds in this
strange unreal world. Whether it was an accompaniment to the multifarious
materialisation’s or simply noise attributable to a lack of relevant auditory
data he couldn't say but the simple short tonal bleeps of various frequencies
seemed to be penned by the same author as the visual stimulus. Almost
intoxicated by the overwhelming sense of beauty his senses were being bombarded
with he began to feel his mind drifting away when suddenly the world changed
and he was standing in a garden paradise, the sound of softly flowing water
trickling in his ears.
The Basin of Enticing Sounds and Smells.
Morando
turned to face the whirlpool he could hear calling over to his left. It was set
amongst a glade of overhanging shrubs and assorted plants, many of which he
hadn't seen before and would never have guessed existed. His foot crushed fresh
springy grass and moss as he took careful steps to avoid the many small flowers
that lay roundabout, constantly aware of the multitude of insects and other
creatures that he must be disturbing. Of course, nothing could be done about
that for he couldn't yet walk on air. Maybe later.
His hair fluttered in the soft breeze as he neared the
whirlpool at the base of the glittering gushing stream of water. A scent
greeted his nose which reminded him of chemical air fresheners back in his
Mothers home. What would his Mother think of this experience or any of his
friends come to think of it ? Yet another one that couldn't easily be shared.
This scent, this place, this feeling is far more real
than anything before in my life.
Morando found a relatively free place to sit and eased
down gently avoiding as many beautiful little plants and flowers as possible,
next to the basin of enticing sounds and smells.
For a few moments, immeasurable by any quantitative system,
Morando simply lived the whole experience. All of his senses were fully alert
to the environment surrounding his body.
Suddenly, an evil feeling came over him like someone
stepping over his grave, only that was wholly inappropriate. He had a feeling
that forces beyond his comprehension moved in strange ways in this place. It is
a place of stark contrasts, one had to be aware of prevalent moods and
interactions with surroundings. Don't believe all you hear and see.
Morando stared into the whirlpool and felt mesmerised by
its continual cycling. Threats seemed to be hidden in its menacing gurgling yet
the soft babble of the waterfall further upstream counterbalanced any
disturbing anxieties. His attention now turned towards the small flurry of
dancing water sprites playing in the haze of a soft tainted mist, awash with
the colours of the rainbow or, at least, most of them for some seemed to be
missing. He turned his head to look at the infinitesimal detail of the jungle
below. Crushed grass cowered away from the weight of his body and small daisy
like flowers stood innocently around, waiting perhaps for the light of some
Guardian Angel to shine down and brighten their day.
Instinctively, he held out both hands and traced the
outline of a square symmetrically with each hand. Immediately a window appeared
of the very old wooden type, complete with surrounding white sill and sliding
panes. Currently it was slightly ajar. Morando closed the window and the
environment shifted.
He now found himself sitting amongst the stars,
protected, he felt, by a huge invisible bubble containing atmospheric
essentials and, no doubt, other life and system support mechanisms. He quickly
found that turning the head to the right or left caused the scene to move in
that direction. Of course, it was impossible to say if he was moving or the
images outside of the sphere. Relativity seemed unimportant in this starry
paradise anyhow. The laws of physics were suspended in this place.
He soon found that by moving his feet he seemed to veer
off 'down' in that direction and by moving his hands he could 'ascend'. So, by
carefully combining movements of all his limbs he was able to manoeuvre in 3D
space. Of course, he soon became quite tired of the novelty value of the
steering mechanism and, quite naturally, his thoughts began turning towards his
family. Here he was having all this fun yet he was really meant to be finding
Alexandria. Why was he here ? What is the relevance of all these stars ? Where
do I go ? What do I do ?
For the first time since his adventures began he felt an
element of isolation. Sure, tripping the light fantastic was great fun but life
isn't totally about fun. He had to get Alexandria established.
Dreamtime.
All
of a sudden though Morando’s reality shifted. He was hovering somewhere in
mid-air overlooking a bunch of guys eagerly discussing something. They were
sitting around a network of computer workstations, tapping away as they spoke.
Brief snippets of conversation became intertwined with the constant tap, tap, tap
of the keyboards. Then one of the men stood up (the others had referred to him
as a professor) and approached a video terminal at the far end of the room.
The screen lit up and was dominated by the face of a
young woman, perhaps about twenty-five or thirty describing 'it'. 'It' turned
out to be an alien robot that had been discovered orbiting the Earth in a
distant star system. After about half an hour of this video footage where the
woman describes how they came to learn of 'its' presence and purpose the
professor again stood up and switched the machine off. Next he sat down and
began to earnestly discuss an apparent security leak in the 'system'. Life goes
on as normal.
Again, Morando’s reality shifts and he finds himself in a
lift occupied by what he thinks is the same woman from the video only she looks
much older with grey hair and crows feet. The lift stops at the next floor and
to Morando’s surprise in steps the professor not looking as if he has aged at
all. The woman asks the professor if he is still pursuing 'it'. Before an
answer has time to appear from within the professor’s mouth he explodes, a
powerful nuclear explosion obliterating all that stands in its path.
Morando’s reality shifts again. This time he sees a man
walking outside tall futuristic building’s which seem to surround him. He is
walking on a track similar to that used by trains in the twentieth century. All
along the track there are interspersed lots of odd looking vehicles. Some have
wheels specifically designed for the track yet others seem to hover just above
it. The man on the track turns his head just in time to see the same professor
from the previous reality heading towards a building in a glass corridor. He
then vanishes into the building.
Just then a truck pulls up. Lots of people disembark as
do lots of dogs. Morando realises that this must be Earth for he recognises
Doberman Pinchers, ferocious dogs that were eventually banned at the beginning
of the twenty-first century. A few of the dogs start trotting towards the man
Morando has been watching on the track. He extends his hand and greets them
with, "Nice boy, nice boy". The dogs reply in barks and yaps.
Suddenly two lights appear in the sky and start fading in
and out at random. Morando senses that everyone is disturbed by this phenomena
for they all start running towards the buildings. He realises that they are
trying to make it to the relative safety of the shadows, away from the
penetrating light. Some manage it, others don't. The particular man Morando was
following begins to fade away.
Morando realises now that he's 'on' an alien space ship.
Perhaps the one orbiting this planet with the alien robot somewhere on board.
The man appears to be in a state of shock, he's shaking uncontrollably.
Just then everything vanishes in a blaze of multicoloured
geometrically challenged shapes and Morando realises he's back in the cavern
with Biblio66.
Disappointment
.
"Wow
!", exclaimed Morando, "What a trip !".
Morando began to relate his experiences to Biblio66 who
just nodded every now and then until he got to the part about the professor and
orbiting alien spaceship.
"Damn, that's those hackers again", Biblio66
said.
"Ever since we started our first community we've had
a group of info-terrorists trying to get in on our act. The realities you
experienced towards the end there were meant to plant subliminals in your
subconscious. Over a period of time they manifest themselves in your
consciousness as paranoia and anxiety attacks. It's psychological warfare.
That's what it is. We suspect that the Government could be behind it or even a
rival corporation. There's just no knowing.
We've hired security experts but they haven't been able
to trace anybody. The interruptions come from long chains of access points.
When they realise that they've been rumbled they just jack out leaving the User
at our end in limbo. Potentially very dangerous. It can leave all sorts of
unwanted imprints on the mind. I'm sorry you had to experience that. Has it
changed your view of Alexandria at all?"
"Well, I'm not sure really." Replied Morando.
"I mean, I envisaged a utopian environment, free
from the scourges of modern day society. If you've still got these hackers
running amok in there creating mayhem and actually messing around with the
subconscious then I'm not at all sure that it's any different from 'normal'
society."
"Oh, I assure you it is completely different from
'normal' society. You've got to look upon the hacker’s intrusions as an aside
from the humdrum existence you might otherwise lead once you have settled down
in Alexandria. You see we are developing this Artificial Intelligence that will
detect when an intrusion has been made from the outside world. We will then be
able to mould your experiences so that you can actively take part in the
reality and actually fight the subliminals. Think of yourself as a sort of law
enforcer, fighting to protect your family from the forces of evil."
But Morando felt disappointed. There seemed to be a hole
in this supposed Alexandrian utopia. He didn't want to spend his time looking
out for invaders from the far edges of cyberspace. He felt better equipped to
handle the burglars and muggers inherent in his real world environment. Disappointment
turned to anguish as he realised his dreams had been shattered. Perhaps there's
no such thing as a utopian existence, he mused. Virtual communications
certainly didn't seem to have the answer anyway. It had already been
infiltrated by societies degenerates. There just had to be something though,
something away from the pressures of modern day life.
He explained his reservations to Biblio66 who seemed to
understand thoroughly. His last request to Morando was to take another pill
which would wipe out his memories of his interface with Alexandria and leave
him without any subliminals lodged in the depth of his mind. Morando took the
pill.
The
next thing he knew he was standing in an alleyway next to an old iron door. He
had no idea what he was doing there or where he had been. However, held firmly
in his right hand was a call-card. It read simply:
"If you want to get
away from it
Call on me, you'll see
A world full of friendly
people
I do hold the key -
Hal451"
He wondered how that had got there then tucked it into a
pocket and made his way home to his wife and kids. He was late for dinner.
[1] The brand name "Neuronic Shield" is a registered trademark of the Planetary Defence Systems Corporation
[2] The brand name Total Sensory Simulation is a trademark of Artificial Realities Incorporated
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