Famine

Chapter Two

Jonah receives instructions for beginning orientation.

Chapter Two

Dr. Estes returned at 8 a.m. the next morning to begin the orientation.

   “Are you a shrink?” Jonah asked.

   She thought for a moment and then laughed aloud. “Heavens, no!” Many returnees do need some psychological help, but I transferred here from anthropology after two years in New Guinea where I worked among uncivilized tribes.  I had done Peace Corps work there and already had practice with the local language.  But I have since concentrated on twentieth century American civilization.  The principal is the same except that I am concentrating on Baby Boomers, who were also sometimes half naked, if you count Woodstock.  You might run into a few of them over the next weeks or years.  Not many of them now.

   She projected Jonah’s chart and then asked, “How do you feel?”

   “Now that you have asked,” he replied, “I feel great.”

   “You should. You have some new parts.  We’ve managed to stabilize your aging process.  You are in effect a permanent thirty-year-old.  You’ll be amazed at your newer capacities.  Plus, you don’t have to shave anymore.  Feel you face. In a hundred years the question of rejuvenation will come up again.  Then you may choose if you wish to age until death takes you naturally.”

   “Shaving was just getting to be fun.” Jonah stopped and asked, “Rejuvenation?”

   “If you see old people around here, it is usually by choice.”

   “I suppose you are going to tell me that you cured the common cold?”

   “We’re not that good yet, but symptoms last no more than a day.” Dr. Estes then called for Dr. Varkey.  A holographic image in a Nehru Jacket appeared and conversed with her. “Bring the orientation packet for Jonah Mark.  He replied, “Yes, doctor, right away.”

   In a few minutes a little guy in a Nehru jacket appeared in person.  Jonah liked his holographic image better. He held a small blue box that could have held a wedding ring. Jonah remembered that computers has just replaced cumbersome units that often filled a whole room.  One for artillery used paper tape reels in order to feed data.  How much more sophisticated, Jonah wondered, had they become?  Allowing for improvements, Jonah reasoned that such a box contained far more information than he might need in order to complete his doctorate.  A university or even a lifetime’s worth of knowledge perhaps.  So could he listen or merely read Shakespeare or Milton?  He’d soon find out.

   Dr. Estes explained what Jonah was supposed to do. “This packet contains everything you might need past a doctor’s degree in most any field.  There is a detailed history of every region of the world.  We have another requirement.  You must write an autobiography in order to add your first-hand knowledge of your time with our own archives.  You represent a primary source.”

   “For your convenience, I have a modified Underwood Number 5 Typewriter.  It’s something you are familiar with using.  You do not need paper to enter information.  You can look up at the screen on the wall before you, or I can get you some special typewriting paper we keep for people from your time.  If you have any questions, please ask for Dr. Varkey.”

   She meant the guy that looked like Pandit Nehru.  Dr. Estes left the room and Jonah began.

Jonah began typing his autobiography on his modified Underwood.  He had to admit that it looked like the real thing.

   The first few paragraphs were easy enough.  He was born in 1947, attended Lee and Longfellow elementary schools, was a member of Boy Scout Troop 49.  It was a piece of cake.