| The
Promised Land
by Fiona Atchison
The new Senior Citizens sat in the optimum level of the Tutordome
staring wonderingly down on the Circuit of workers. It was their first
time back for many years. Some were fitter looking than others but that
made no odds. The year count was the only measure that mattered. All citizens
in that room had reached the statutory limit of 70 annum of productive
activity. Now they attended lessons in preparation for their ‘Recreation
Period’. The location for the recreation period was on the sunny
side of the planet, called the Promised Land. Too hot and barren for productivity
but ideal as everyone knew for pleasure. Viewcasts of the Promised Land
were universally available. Andor had often watched images of happy smiling
senior citizens, strolling hand in hand under a brilliant azure sky.
Turning his gaze from the darkened plastine, Andor worried what his life
partner, Tala was doing. Probably in the process of decanting to a single
bedded unit due to her new status. Of course nowadays people of differing
annum would not be allowed to life partner, but 40 annum ago things were
different. Then, Tala had been one of the available females within his
Circuit and although 2 annum less than he, their partnership had been
approved. It had been only a few days but he already missed Tala, deeply.
‘At least,’ he consoled himself, ‘I’ll be able
to show her round the Promised Land once she joins me.’
The voice of Tutor Gogin suddenly interrupted his thought process.
‘Welcome Senior Citizens, or SC for short, as we say here.’
There was a ripple of excited laughter. For why would everyone not feel
excitement? The ritual of leaving for the Promised Land was almost as
old as time itself, or so it felt.
Tutor Gogin continued, ‘This, (a pause for effect) is the beginning
of your Recreation Period, something you have worked all your lives for.
You will remember your previous attendance here at Tutordome at 12 annum
when you studied to prepare for work-life. Now, I wish to teach the meaning
of a recreational existence. Your work-life is a thing of the past. Now
you shall reap the rewards of input to your Circuits by joining your ancestors
on the other side of the world.’
When Tutor Gogin finished his sentence, the wall him behind lit. Holographic
images of Senior Citizens one after the other luminously appeared, smiling
and waving before quickly evaporating. Andor as well as everyone else
watched the joyous procession, and eagerly searched for relatives. The
holographs appeared to be dressed in a silver high necked apparel which
covered the whole form. Gone were the typical work suits like the one
he currently wore.
A distressed shout from behind, took everyone’s attention as a woman
forced herself to the front, ‘Mother, mother, it’s me, Caro!’
But the figure dissolved just as the woman reached out. Then the lights
came up.
Tutor Gogin whispered into Caro’s ear and she smiled sheepishly
whilst allowing herself to be led away by a female tutor.
‘As you must be aware that can often happen. But the images are
holographic in nature only. You may meet up with loved ones soon, once
this induction month is complete. And now, each of you must depart to
the outfitting rooms. You are done with drab work suits.’
The month of learning had been somewhat strange in parts. There were private
questionnaires to complete of a psychological and medical nature. Twice
Andor had felt an urge to question Tutor Gogin following practical sessions.
One lesson had covered exposure to the sun orb in the Promised Land and
instruction in the process of re-hydration and skin repair.
‘Why would this happen, Tutor Gogin?’ Andor had asked. ‘
For in the viewcasts there is no mention of skin-burn.’
‘Merely for precaution’s sake’, came the response. ‘We
at Tutordome wish you only to enjoy your recreation, but our task is also
to prepare you for any possibilities however improbable they may be.’
The second question Andor asked concerned a lesson on food preparation.
Where was the luscious fresh produce one had come to expect from viewcasts
of the Promised Land? Instead here was Tutor Laylor combining dried powders
of various hues with water. Although the finished results were quite tasty
and edible, Andor’s curiosity prickled.
‘Tutor Gogin, is dried food in case of an improbable situation?’
he asked.
The sigh from Tutor Gogin’s large chest was audible.
‘Affirmative Andor. It is in the unlikely case of a flight-craft
food delivery to the Promised Land being delayed. Dried foods could be
a useful back-up.’
On the evening prior to their scheduled flight to the Promised Land, Andor
heard a slight tap on his cubicle door.
‘May I enter, Andor?’ This whispered question came from the
thin frame of the woman, Caro.
‘Yes, of course, is something wrong?’
Caro’s elderly eyes appeared frantic, ‘There is something
I need to tell someone... and for some reason I thought of you. Perhaps
because you asked questions.’
Andor sat Caro gently down on his bunk, ‘Go on.’ he said.
‘When Tutor Laylor took me to rest after the shock of seeing my
mother in holograph, she left me alone for a while. I was in an office
where I noticed a micro computer. In my Circuit I built micro computers
but I had never encountered that model before. My curiosity was roused,
so I engaged it with my wrist monitor and... and downloaded some files.
It was only this morning I managed to configure them.’
There Caro stopped and hesitantly pressed the side of her wrist monitor
and turned it towards Andor. After a moment or two Andor gasped.
The monitor displayed three separate lists. The first list named the 40
current Senior Citizens due to fly to the Promised Land. Not unusual in
itself but aside each name was a projected life expectancy. Beside Andor’s
name, 5 annum but beside Caro’s only 6 months. He scanned quickly
down the second list. It detailed quantities of medical supplies, such
as ‘radiation’ treatment drugs, and saline solutions. The
final list included, parachutes, powdered foods, water barrels, heat retardant
tents, clothing and light visors.
Andor met Caro’s fearful eyes, his own a mirror image as he finally
managed to speak.
‘Is this then the ‘Promised Land’? A land where we are
abandoned to survive death from a scorching sun?’ Andor stamped
his fist, ‘No!’
Then a revelation, ‘Have all our ancestors been treated this way?’
Beside him Caro was softly weeping, ‘There is another file to show
you.’
When dawn came without sleep, Andor went over his plan for the hundredth
time. It was imperative to him, Tala would never have to face the same
fate. He thanked the stars he still retained a muscular strength from
working in the precious stone mines of Circuit 7. Caro also had her part
to play and he was confident of her bravery. Neither of them after all
had anything to lose but a hurtling drop onto a land of radiation.
In the vast flight hangar Andor sourced Caro amongst the excited Senior
Citizens.
‘Is it time?’ she whispered.
He nodded his head. The live viewcast screening of their departure had
begun. How many traditional farewells had he watched, including those
of his parents and grandparents. Had they any inkling of what awaited
them? Tutor Gogin, standing on a high gallery raised his arms for silence,
to commence the official proceedings of embarkation. As he did so, he
noted a small scuffle near the mounted Digicam and its operator being
pushed roughly into the crowd by the man Andor. More alarmingly that frail
woman Caro, appeared to be meddling with the equipment. He motioned his
men to approach her from behind.
But suddenly the Digicam changed focus and a list of the Senior Citizens
with their future life expectancies appeared. Then followed the medical
and supply lists.
‘Citizens!’ the voice of Andor was clearly audible as a hush
spread across the hangar. His voice simultaneously transmitted to the
external viewcasts in the Circuits.
‘This is your ‘Promised Land’ and at that, images of
emaciated and badly burned human forms glared over millions of viewcast
screens. The uproar was tremendous in the hangar and Tutor Gogin’s
men were brought to the ground as they approached Caro. Andor glanced
at the Gallery. No sign of Gogin or Laylor. In the confusion they must
have boarded the flight craft, as it was now taxiing to the runway. Andor
made to run towards the hangar doors but was halted by Caro.
‘Let them leave! Computer coordinates take them only to the Promised
Land and then the craft automatically returns to the hangar. They will
have a simple choice Andor, to jump to the scorching surface or return
here. Either way...’ She left the sentence unfinished.
Andor and Caro returned to their Circuits as heroes. In the weeks that
followed, Government investigations into the Tutordome turned up records
of around 50 annum ago, confirming high levels of radiation on the Promised
Land. The inhabitants were perishing from radiation poisoning. The Tutordome
not wishing to lose profit continued with ‘tradition’ in the
full knowledge they were now sending Senior Citizens to a slow and painful
death.
Rescue missions were sent for the remaining Senior Citizens on the Promised
Land, and tutors of the Tutordome were tried then sentenced to death.
Of Gogin and Laylor, nothing more was ever heard.
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