The Vault Chronicles

I. The Vault

THE VAULT

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            The vault was cold. That was my first observation—the sharp change of temperature between here and the city outside. This place was a maze of metal, not unlike a prison in its aesthetic features. In fact, it was a prison—but not one of the physical body. This place, this vault...it was a prison of the mind.

            However, that was not the way its creators viewed it. No, they saw this place as a refuge, a grace to the people of the world. This was the pinnacle of their scientific achievements, the crown jewel of all their inventions. As I strode through the shining halls of steel, I could not help but admire the strong presence this place emanated. But it was not a good presence. Its weight was beginning to choke me...or was that my tears?

            What had the ads said? By now they were beginning to fade from memory. Their slogans had dominated the air, their commercials on every television screen, every computer monitor. For its time it had been a revolutionary technological advance, and as with all such advances...everyone needed to have it. It was like...the nano-phone. Or the flying car. The masses had flocked to it as if it meant salvation.

            It did in a sense, I suppose. I mean, who wouldn’t want a pain free life? Who would turn down such an opportunity?

            I would. That’s why I was still out here and not in there. Even with the absence of daily human life, the robots kept the cities inhabitable. If anything, no active humans meant no trash. The streets remained pristine, the windows stayed shiny. Only the whirs and rumbles of mechanical cleaning units traversing the city via their treads and rails ever accompanied the padding noise of my footsteps. Few actual people crossed my path out here, and most had stayed away from the new technology because of their dislike for people. Now they had the city all to themselves. Since the automated robots continued to supply resources, those lucky individuals were set for life as far as food went. Since there were too few out here to form any functional groups, they generally ignored each other.

            Finally, I reach the end of the halls. The room transitioned into a massive underground warehouse. The entirety of this vast space, at least fifty football fields in length, was filled to the brim with small glass capsules, from the floor to the ceiling. A complex network of catwalks wove in between, separating the area into over a hundred “floors”. I entered one such catwalk now via ramp, somewhat close to the bottom. As I proceeded, the temperature dropped even more, forcing shivers down my tensed spine.

            The magnitude of this place still stunned me, especially since I was the only one walking around. But as lonely as I felt, at least I could console myself with the fact that I was actually surrounded by millions of live people.

            Could they still be called people? I approached a canister and brushed my palm over the damp, foggy glass, revealing a grey, gelatin-filled interior. Directly in the center, floating grimly in its spongy pool, sat a human brain. A hundred needles, some no thicker than a hair, protruded from the pinkish-grey organ, each connected to a wire that ended at a round cap near the bottom of the casing. This was a person—a fully aware, living person.

            Despite seeing such a sight a thousand times, the brain still made me cringe. This was someone, someone who thought they were living in their fun, virtual la-la land. Would they be better off stuck in there eternally, or dead?

            I decided death would be better. Sucking in a breath, I pushed in a tab on the side of the capsule, revealing a brightly lit console on the metal shell. With the tap of a few buttons, the top opened, releasing a gust of pressurized air.