The Wall Story

The Wall 3

Albert Aldman felt the blood in his veins boil. He’d do anything to prevent the destruction of his family town. There were ten generations living here and they all did so happily, unlike many in the sector.

From Albert’s point of view there was no deep emptiness intrinsic to living in an after-life settlement, it all depended on one’s psyche. Unfortunately, this was a government funded after-life settlement, a place teeming with people who as biggies had been recipients of welfare benefits. People like those were inclined to emptiness, he thought. If they’d been positive people they’d have made something of themselves before they’d died.

Of course, he decided guiltily, people can change. I have. He looked down on the beautiful family town below him, where cottages nestled amongst near-perfect oaks and a lake teemed with the best in AI nano-fish. I’ve become a more positive person. Yes, the afterlife settlement suits my family and me. I won’t let us be dispersed.

“The Baker family can’t pull out now,” he said. “If this thing is going to work we need their funds for the wall. They’re the richest family in the settlement apart from the Hartmanns.”

“They’ve already pulled out,” replied Helen Altman tiredly. “They were forced to disperse two weeks ago. Their schedule was brought forward five weeks. They’re as morose as hell. They feel the Independence Movement didn’t help them.”

Her face looked strained as if it was worn from the arguments and for an instant Albert berated the body makers: they seemed more adept at building anguished facial expression than sanguine ones. Albert remembered well the saying that a smile used more muscles than a frown in humans. He couldn’t help but think that the biggie technicians had been stymied by this fact. Perhaps that was part of the reason so many people in the settlement walked around looking miserable.

He gazed down on his beautiful town again and felt anger coil around his soul like a dark snake. “This thing is bigger than one small defeat. Can’t the Bakers see that if we break the Hartmanns’ power we can move them back into their village?”

He turned back to his wife and saw her standing there: strained face and clenched hands.

“You don’t understand, do you?” she said tightly. “They’ve just gone through hell and we couldn’t prevent it because ‘we weren’t ready’. They’re in a lot of pain now. We might get them back on board – but it’ll take months.”

Albert began to pace. “We haven’t got that much time. We’ve got weeks now. Weeks! We need their money. We can’t produce a spider without their help. We need their funding.”

“Can’t we have a smaller spider?”

“No. It has to be that size, and you know why,”

Helen stared at her husband and her shoulders slumped. “What do we do?”

“We will think of something,” replied Albert. “We have to…”