Plutonians

Chapter 5

I have come here to surround myself with the society's bustle that's not going to dwindle even at late night - not for the coming days at least - owing to the late-night preparations for the recruitment.

I try to absorb nature, fresh air, from every possible corner of this catastrophic world. But it's hard. Before me I see almost every light glowing in the rooms of the middle class community apartment, few in my own apartment below and merely any in the-know-it-all community apartment.

But beyond my vision, beyond the horizon, there's another society shoddier than this. It is domicile to those people who fail the recruitment test, to the avowed nation traitors and even to the illegal immigrants. Most of the traitors are imprisoned and others are maltreated, lashed like beasts and are fed with filth. It's the place where my parents patrol, monitor and control security.

I am afraid that my apathetic attitude towards this recruitment might land me into this unsightly society. But I don't want to be a part of upper class communities either. I am in a dilemma- should I work diligently to achieve my parent's dreams or should I play the game intelligently such that unquestionably I will return to my own community.

On one part there are my parents, in sheer desperation regarding my unplanned future, paying more heed to 'what the world will say'. On the other side lies my community, which offers the professions I am passionate about, that proffers freedom.

I sigh, taking my hands away from the terrace boundary. I sit on the terrace floor. It's tiled with white, so as to keep it cool all day long. I realize that I am too weak to sit, so I crouch on the floor squeezing my empty stomach. I feel like hemmed in delirium. I try to lay flat and stare at the sky above, covered with murky and dense clouds. The chillness of the floor seeps through my sweatshirt, soothing my body.

I wonder life is such an oxymoron. We are often deprived of those things which are not in our possessions. But contradictorily we are unenthusiastic about things which are in our hold.

Like Zed loves teaching but for this world's cut-throat competitiveness, he is going for a crash course in efel programming for selection to a job that he is not interested in. While I am a person who is thorough with advanced languages but still want to get into the presumed lower class.

This society is home to occupations that involve humans only for coding, programming and hacking and rest of the jobs are carried out by bots. Researchers of upper class are working upon bots that can create their own programs, may be after that existence of humans is trivial.

People have certain purpose of their life. They cannot be coerced to forge something as their purpose. It's remarkable how Drake metamorphosed humans into his cold-hearted puppets who no more desire to follow their hearts. And above all, uncertainty is a taboo here.

Like all other concerned parents, my parents too believe I need to have a systematic planning for my future in this world. But how could they be so certain about the time that has not yet come. I have always believed that the only thing certain is nothing but uncertainty.

We all are like a cork floating in the ocean with unpredictable currents. We try to control it, frantically. But after all, the currents are unforeseeable. After all, a strong current will ultimately capsize the cork to the bottom of the ocean.

This realization compels the anxious thoughts to fade away and gradually they depart from my mind space. This realization enlightens me and I am able to achieve control over my brain. A realization that the cork doesn't need to control the current.

So there are ample of reasons to stand with my own decision instead of fretting about others. Here most of the lasses are into medical sciences or research or governmental occupations like Anna or security fuss like Ma.

But the lads rule over engineering and inventive arenas. I want to diverge from truisms, I yearn to be distinctive. In a world where people are evaluated by their versatility, I yearn to cherish my uniqueness.

Moreover if I stay in my own community, I could get closer to my parents, things between us can be sorted out and I can regain my loving family. For I know that my friends will be detached from me to other communities and I hate to be left alone.

There are unresolved questions that need to be answered; mysteries of Plutonians that need to be uncovered; truth that needs to be sought after and the only path to be followed to procure all these, is to live with my own decision.

Cool wind blows, touching my skin lightly and blowing my hair slightly; eroding the qualm and taking it away with the flow. I close my eyes, embracing my own decision and reinforcing my beliefs in the cosmos.

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I open my eyes to find five metallic heads scanning me from top to bottom. The sun's blazing and the rays are reflecting through their mechanic eyeballs. I realize I had slept the last night, hungry on the terrace. I wake up hastily.

"What have I done?" I say impromptu.

"We are also trying to analyze the same thing". One of the bot speaks.

Another familiar bot intervenes, speaking, "She came to the terrace yesterday at late night, and I was present in her lift".

"Were you planning for any suicidal attempts?"

I admit I was distressed that the bots would have already analyzed but I am not such a sissy who would end up her life in a suicide. "No", I say.

"We say so because, we conducted your medical check-ups, studying your brain waves and concluded that there is a slight hormonal imbalance that may have resulted in anxiety and unconsciousness. And your glucose level is also low which signifies weakness, probably due to starvation." The bot says as if it has by-heart them.

Bots exaggerate maladies and disorders to another level, in a way that will leave a diseased panic-stricken. I nod my head, hoping the bot to supply me some medications for my treatment.

It continues, "We prescribe you some tablets for anxiety and now you need to have these pills to treat fatigue". One of the bot stretches out its hand, passing over the medicine to me and I receive it eagerly. I am grateful to the humans who thought of inculcating sympathy in the AI bots of the dispensary.

I swallow the pill and try to get up feebly. As I ingest, I was able to recover strength from within that had lulled to slumber.

"Come, we will drop you at your room."

The bots march ahead, heading me to the elevator. I feel it's all right to skip the anxiety drugs, because experiences conclude that they become addiction.

Further, I am learning the art of self control, of battling the disorder all alone and strengthening my will power to resist all anomaly – at least it is a trait unique to humans that AI has not yet come up with!

I make a sandwich and quickly get ready for our rendezvous. I put on the hood and walk down the alley to the West Garden. 

The name is absolutely bogus, as there's nothing like garden, out there. In fact, the entire place is surrounded with concrete and metal sculptures and artificial orchards. Natural things are hard to discover here because they are dead out of suffocation under the blanket of technology. They remain mere subjects of folklore.

Lara had said yesterday that she will be coming an hour later. I see Zed on a table that has been turned into a pc. He is so engrossed in his work that he seems to be oblivious of my arrival.