Sentilia

MAXINE

California, year 245 post-consciousness.

Transporters fly back and forth from my window. The sky is dark grey, but at least it’s not raining...yet. I can barely see the ground from my apartment, from the 45th floor. I can scarcely recall hearing of a time where people didn’t live in apartment buildings; they lived in houses. People walked the surface of the earth, not on these narrow pathways like we do.

I hate the pathways. They’re so high up in the sky that I’m too scared to use them. I have height issues, which kind of limits you nowadays. At least I have my transporter to get around. It’s not like there are many places to go anyway, all that we demand or need is delivered right to our door, and we mostly work from home, on a virtual platform. The pathways are basically for people who get bored in their apartments: they go out for a walk.

What was practically a constant challenge, my goal in life, was to always have something to do, not to get bored. I always tried to distract myself, whether it was reading books, lessons, or work.

Work: an obligation for others, a relief for me.

I started working at the age of 17, but we usually start when we are 18; so really, I should have started working this year. I got tired of playing virtual games to entertain myself, so I found a temporary job. I’m working on software at the local network system branch. I am still getting my educational program lessons twice a week, but work and school are both done from home, so it’s easy to coordinate my schedules.

Because I stretched out my program, I have one more year of schooling to do before I’m done with my education. I’m currently learning how to be a garden keeper. Electronic or mechanic related jobs are the easiest, since we’re basically born into them, but anything related to nature or human interactions takes an extra year. I’m hoping to work at the only natural forest we have left. It is located in the northern part of Canada, is open to visitors, and is really the most popular attraction there is in this world. It is extremely well protected; nevertheless, it’s so old that it’s starting to deteriorate. Plus, the thousands of visitors’ breath alter the atmosphere, which doesn’t aid the poor forest to survive. The keepers’ efforts are on that matter everyday. They still haven’t found a better solution than to close it from the public altogether.

It’s a shame that it hadn’t been kept in a better shape before it was too late. But we will loose it soon if they don’t act fast. It is, after all, the last part of wild nature in this world. That’s why I chose to be a garden keeper, to help make necessary decisions about our world pride. These leaders of ours don’t know how to make proper decisions...or are too occupied with whatever else their job requires them to do.

The leading and protection systems are of laughing matter; there is one member of each region of the world that is in charge of keeping the peace, which is kept by itself for that matter. The laws are few and simple; we cannot intently hurt someone, no publicity, no private businesses, respect of the downloading limits, suicide is illegal—they will restrain your family in a medical facility if you do, for research of course—we have to work for our community... Once in a while, someone gets tired of their life and decides to go against what is best for them. In other words: they break the law. The Peacekeeper brings them in a medical facility, and they are kept for research, for as long as they live. I have never heard of someone resisting a Peacekeeper. You don’t have to be strong to be a Peacekeeper, because you have everyone’s respect. That’s my mom’s job.

For everyone else, this world is perfect. Everything is harmonious. There are no sickness, no divorce, no real government or hardly any politics except for a group of ten women who we call the “Advisors”, who consult between themselves on decision-making, and then give guidance to the part of the world to which they are assigned to. Of course, everyone listens to them. No one has a reason not to. Our society is so jaded of everything; they generally do not care about the decisions that are made for them. They figure that they work for themselves. It is, after all, part of the truth. We do not work for money, but our food is delivered each day, 3 times a day, right in each of our kitchens. We do not pay for the filtered water that we drink and use to wash; nor do we pay for our transporters, or power. There is a limit of downloads per month, and there is also a limit for the material stuff we can have, but we usually get whatever we ask for if it’s reasonable.

As for our world’s great social life: we barely talk to anyone, except our own families. Occasionally, we will come across someone and chat a bit, but that’s it. What is there to talk about? People rarely confide in anyone else.

This is how we all live; we do so for 150 years. They say it’s about twice the lifespan humans use to have about a thousand years ago. Honestly, who really wants to live this life for that long? Surprisingly, everyone seems happy with it. Everyone but me.

*****

My name is Maxine Costa. Maxine means “greatest” in Latin. It’s a good name for me, considering the fact that I’ve always been great at everything...great at loosing games, irrevocably messing up digital systems, and failing my educational exams.

Loosing games is a pity, but who cares? Wrecking systems is a shame, but the society still gave me a job in that field. And I would say that failing exams would be the worse part, but it really doesn’t matter because they don’t consider your “passing” or “failing” as a significant proof of your capabilities; they just serve as a guide for ourselves, to try to get better, and we still get a work certificate. How deplorable is that?

I’ve never really been a part of this world. I should not have been born in my era: I’d always known that much. The real question was: what could I do about it? I could not return in the past, where people would interact with each other, when there were problems to solve, and real nature to preserve. No, I was stuck here and now, in this “perfect” world, stuck with no one to talk to but myself. Sure there were my parents, but it still wasn’t enough; I needed someone to really confide in. Someone I would truly love and trust. Someone who would love me just as much.

The man of my dreams: I knew I would find him someday. I was never too keen on having an arranged marriage like my parents had. They’ve always sworn they were really in love. In fact, they did seem in love. To me, they were the ideal couple: totally opposite, but a perfect match. It was still baffling to me that the system had matched them together. My dad is a total goofball, and my mom is an order freak. Caiden and Serena: the proof you can fall in love in an arranged marriage. I still didn’t want to take the risk; there were so many people who were unsatisfied with their marriage. Once, a nurse and I had discussed it. She said that people sometimes confided in them about their love life. In public, they were always sure to look like the perfect, happy couple even if it was rarely the case.

If you really do find your real mate somehow, you are united by the Peacekeeper of the city. But if not, at the age of your choice, the local pairing agency will assess you, ask for any particular requests, and the system then finds the best match possible. Sure, it works well most of the time, but I had the feeling I would live something more, something special, without the help of an algorithm. And I would fall in love someday: I felt it deep in my heart.