FutureBlog by Pete Nicholls, chapter 2

More from Sato in the year 2222!

Jul 26

Here it is! Chapter 2 of FutureBlog! Did you read chapter 1 yet? You’ll want to do that first. In this week’s chapter, Sato talks more about the future (his present) and also delves into his recent visit to the M levels—where the machines of New Angel City maintain the world above... What brought him dow to those deep dark levels under the thriving domed city? He thinks someone is alive down there…

22220726 posted by Sato Nakamoto

So much for “tomorrow.” The week really got away from me. Lots going on but I think I should start today's blog entry with something I should have mentioned in last week’s post: we do have blogs these days. They did go out of style for a while but slid back in before too long. In fact, we're required to have them. Years ago, some United State Governance psychologist announced a study that found we humans function more efficiently when we blog about our daily lives. Something about “better understanding our relationships with others and opening our inner thoughts up to outside commentary.” The theory is that with the judgment of others to help guide us, we all become more effective, productive members of society (and more self conscious). So, blogging is mandatory and the US Governance and your employer supposedly read it every day. However, we all know it’s really just sentient algorithms that do all the heavy lifting.

My employer is the SNA as I mentioned yesterday—the State News Agency. Not everything I see makes it to the display screens of the human race. This is unfortunate, but many things are determined by the State to be “unsecured” information. In other words, we could be reporting information that could inadvertently spread misinformation or worse—help an illegal org--like the Nogoodnicks. It's unfortunate, but the truth is not a complete casualty as some critics suggest. The truth is still there, available for anyone who is looking for it. That's the trouble. You have to look for it and many people don’t want to bother.

There are alternatives to the State News Agency, but they fall under the same laws as those of us who report for the SNA. Blogs are not immune from these laws either. I can't recall the year, but at some point in the last seventy(?), years, bloggers were determined to be equivalent to journalists, as the terms are virtually identical in meaning. One has you reporting on events, the other has you reporting on yourself (which reads pretty insidiously now that I read the words). As a result, personal blogs are purged of unsecured information. It happens automatically, which is convenient for anyone who might divulge UI without meaning to.

However, this blog you're reading now isn't subjected to the same algorithms as modern blogs, so I can tell you of my experience in the M Levels a few nights back.

The M's or Machine Levels are where the machines and computers that run New Angels are located. They are very secure despite the fact that they are so easy to access. In theory anyone could simply parachute down to them. However, the security systems would immediately call attention to any intruder and said intruder would be barred from going any further than they already had, usually by being forcibly detained by Sentroids.

This is the case unless you happen to have a press pass.

Carrying a press pass down to the M's trips a security computer sensor and your location is logged. It's done for your own good as if you are hurt or fall prey to the sudden onset of the effects Germ Syndrome none of the maintenance robots will get you to safety. They are only programmed for their immediate tasks. In fact, the bots and mechs down there are more likely to kill you by accident when you get in their way. This is easy to do unless you happen to know where every bot or mech is and where they are headed.

Every school child knows that the M's are not safe for humans. Still, I love them. They're dark, dank, and lonely. All of the 18 cities of Earth are so densely packed it's difficult to find large spaces that you don't have to share with others. In fact, the lobby you enter upon exiting the main elevator system near the center of New Angels is truly massive. I am told it was once the lobby of a prestigious bank that was built atop old skyscrapers that date back as far as the early twenty-first century. Were there many skyscrapers on the west coast of North America in 2022?

Regardless, I am always amazed at how moist it is down there. While I didn't grow up in New Angels, I know that children here are taught that many centuries ago the entire area was simply desert. Yet here, a few thousand meters below City Line there was moisture. I sometimes worry that the sea is leaking in through the Saviordome somehow but there would be panic in the air if that was actually happening.

I once asked the Minister of Machines, Dean Lamont, where the moisture comes from. He simply told me it was steam from some sort of machine that he couldn't think of the name of at that precise moment.

"Do call me when you think of it," I told him. He looked at me strangely. By his look, I wondered if he might be thinking I was a Nogoodnick. "It's just that I'm curious, is all. Strange that there should be moisture amongst so many machines, wouldn't you say?"

"Not at all. They had rust-proof metal when New Angels was built. Moisture is no harm to anyone. However, the germs down there are—in fact—water vapor can be the home to many germs. You should be weary when covering any news that brings you down to the M levels."

But there I was the other night, ignoring his advice and violating my health official's advice as well by spending more time in the M's.

When you get down that low, everything feels crowded—but not like crowds of people. It’s more like being in the home of a hoarder. There are things everywhere. Odd shaped machines of all sizes—robots designed to look like humans and robots that look like just a mess of mechanisms are where ever you go. My father once described the M's as a giant clockwork.

"You must be very careful when navigating the M's," he would tell me.

I don't know exactly what a clockwork is because, well, I don't know what a clock is—not in a standalone-sense. Clocks are part of other devices. There's one on my dev and another in my car, but my dad tells me that you 2022ers had them sitting on shelves. Round wheels with teeth would somehow keep perfect time. How anyone trusted gears with something as important as time I’ll—now that I think of it, you didn’t have much choice, did you?

Sorry, got a little sidetracked there. So, that man I told you about last week—the one I saw in the M’s. I saw him the week before standing next to some sort of mechanical contraption—of course, they're all contraptions down here. I'm no expert in mechs, but still, there is a basic logic to them and I can easily get around them. However, that night I got a little lost and found my way onto a bridgeway that was suspended over a chasm. There was a strong wind that my long coat insisted on catching until I buttoned it up. That bridgeway I stood on was maybe a meter wide and had a track on it mounted to it’s top surface.

I started to make my way to the other side of the chasm, but the wind was quite fierce. I began to get the idea that this bridgeway was not the best choice for getting across the chasm as I heard a terrible mechanical, whining sound from behind me. It sounded angry or at least upset. I craned my head around and saw a mech moving toward me on the aforementioned track making a highpitched “VWIP” sound at me. The mech was exactly the width of the bridgeway.

Because of course it was.

I began to run toward the other side of the chasm as the “VWIP” sound repeated over and over, making it hard to think straight. I glanced back as the mech rolled itself toward me, somehow sounding louder and more upset. That’s when I slipped on some of that moisture I mentioned and fell off the edge of the bridgeway and was reminded of it's lack of a railing...

I began to fall.

I wondered how far I would fall and if I would feel much pain when I hit the floor—assuming I ever did hit a floor.

I fell for long enough to get used to the sensation and to notice I was suddenly close to a smooth, metal wall. After a few more moments I got the distinct impression that I wasn't getting closer to it but that it was getting closer to me. I glanced back up and could see that the wall just happened to be at an angle toward me.

I looked forward at it as it clearly, almost with intention, moved closer to me and eventually came in contact with, first the fabric of my coat, and then with me. Then it began to angle more, allowing me to slow my descent.

Suddenly, I realized I was sliding down a tremendous ramp. I had the feeling of joy—exhilaration.

As I slid to a stop, I climbed off of the walkway and stood up. I looked up at the ramp that I’d just slid down and was quite sure I wanted to... well, to do it all again.

I was shocked to see the wall that had seemingly extended to guide me to a safe landing was now quickly, somewhat quietly, retracting away from me. I moved toward it for a moment thinking I should say thank you--but then who would I thank? I was was kilometers from another living soul.

I looked around and then up. That was when I saw him, or so I thought. As it turned out, my eyes had tricked me. The man I thought I saw the previous week was actually a woman...

Thanks for reading! The next chapter will be out next week, assuming I can edit it in time! Got thoughts on FutureBlog?

Pete is Writing

FutureBlog by Pete Nicholls, chapter 2

More from Sato in the year 2222!

Ready for more?