I remember the years when our lives were malleable in our palm, moulded as we walked the streets, little aspects of personality displayed to whatever end we wished; we could don any mask and our feet were free. Our actions were banished to the grasp of time, only to be stored in memory rather than the spinning disk of a hard drive. We were not bound by the tight wires of information or shadowed by the darkening clouds of paranoia; the information age was a foetus in the womb of worry.1
Big Ben struck noon somewhere in the distance. Of course, I already knew what time it was, every shop window that I passed flashed their personalised deals and screamed out my name; ‘George! 50% off all items until 12:30! Half an hour left!’ I fumbled impatiently with the square of plastic inside my pocket like a child desperate to remove an old plaster. 2
After turning down a few side-streets I stepped through a shoddy-looking doorway, being careful not to knock over any dusty displays with my heavy backpack. I had always hoped that the further off the beaten track you walked, the harder it was for them to reduce you to numbers on a screen. The cashier shot me a nervous smile, I suppose in these times a backpacker looks out of place anywhere, even in a camping store. Nobody roams anymore, how can you? 3
“How are the boots treating you? Scarpa SL’s, huh? If they aren’t working out then maybe some insoles…”4
“They are fine, thank you.” There was no way she could remember so long ago. I retrieved the card and returned it to my pocket with the spare laces I had just purchased. I wondered what other aspects of my life had sprung onto her revealing LCD screen.5
Back on the busy London streets I passed two police officers, hand-held devices within their grasp. I find it funny how nobody ever gives this routine sight a second glance, even though at a click of a button those electronic spyglasses will open you up like a book. Detective work has a new face. The bank was as packed as it always was, and I slipped my card into the mouth of a machine whilst pressing my eye to a small lens. The scan was completed and I was authorised. The eyes used to be the window to the soul, but now they are the window to your entire existence. I prepared for the repercussions when I pressed the ‘close account’ button. 6
In as much time as it took me to remove my card from the slot, I was taken to a comfortable room and told to sit down by a soft-faced young banker.7
“Is everything okay, sir?”8
“Yes, everything is fine, thank you. I simply wish to close my account.”9
“Maybe you would like a chat? Our records show a little cause for concern, that’s all. You have cleaned out your account over the period of two weeks, moving from bank to bank across London. You have also purchased hundreds of pounds worth of wilderness survival equipment. If I may, sir, we at the bank would like to encourage you to reconsider any drastic life choices you are making…”10
When money is involved, your problem is everybody else’s problem. Now people have the means to know exactly what that problem is. I made my way back across London, my final walk through a world destroyed by the electron. When I reached the train station I had my finger and retina scanned, my card swiped and my background checked by a beady-eyed security officer. He was scanning keywords – his machine would reach across the grid clawing at my every move. I sniffed at that thought. The grid; we long to escape it yet we are all unequivocally bound to it by an invisible umbilical chord.11
“Mr Harker!” I spun on the spot, avoiding the platform traffic. A train warden with a device in his hand bounded towards me. He handed me my wallet, it must have fallen out of my pocket whilst I was moving through the crowd. The unnerving fact was that he had not even opened it to find out my name, he did not need to. He glanced at the small screen in his palm. “Oh, that is such a nice area, it has some lovely scenery. Have a good holiday!” I gave him a courteous nod and then stepped onto the carriage, breathing relief as my feet finally began to taste the freedom they yearned for.12
So here I am, cutting the umbilical chord. I am not going on holiday. The orange sun is setting on the beautiful hills of the English countryside and a bubbling brook is meandering passed me before cascading down a rolling fell. The card in my hand is the last step, but the most important one. My name, age, security number, photo, magnetic strip and wireless chip define me in this modern world – without them I am a faceless mannequin; a danger. I am filled with ease as I outstretch my fingers and let the laminated card become one with the frothing water, to be carried to whatever place nature desires. A place where the web does not reach.13
I smile and scan the hills that lay ahead of me. I had better start moving, before long there will be people on this very spot. They will be searching for a number that has just vanished from their database.
Author notes
DRAFT 2
My first proper writing attempt for a long time, I have been very busy with my degree. It could possibly do with a little touching up but I like what is there; writing it actually scared me about the possibilities of socio-technology in the future. I think it is a real problem the world will face later in this century.
Comments
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Great vision
A wonderful depiction of the looming dystopia of our not too distant future. I’ve written something not dissimilar myself, called Personal Telephone Refresh, you might be interested in it. I find the possibility that there will be any wilderness left in the UK by the time of this future to be rather unlikely, but we can live in hope.
I spotted a handful of possible errors
Paragraphs 11 and 13, you use “chord” where I believe “cord” would be correct
Paragraph 13 you use “passed” where I believe “past” would be correct
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Very good
Very imiginative and you are right; scary, but inevitable. The first paragraph got me hooked and held my attention till the end. Good plot definition for something much longer.
You have an unusual writing style, almost conversational
Good Job! Keep on Writing!
Sincerely,
IGW
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Wow. I'm glad I clicked on this. Your first paragraph is fantastic - it really drew me in, because I wanted to know what had changed George's mind about the world.
I really love a lot of the ideas you've used here: the shops personalising their adverts etc.
Made me think a lot about Ol' Tony's ID Card scheme... I hope to God Gordon or whoever ends up in power leaves that well alone. -
I really enjoyed this story- there was a lot of originality within it, and the imagery was really good. There was a lot of good detail in the futuristic world which the story takes place in, and I liked how that makes the story seem both relatable and believable. The first paragraph really drew me in and captured my attention, and I think you finished it off really nicely.
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THIS SOUNDS AWESOME.
And it's funny, cos I have no doubt that all this stuff will be happening very soon. Science fiction just keeps coming closer and closer to reality, huh?
Anyways, your character is awesome, the story seems quite original and this is a great opening for a novel-sized story. I would so read it. Message me when the next part comes out, or maybe I'll just send you a friend request... Meh, just thinking through my keyboard ^^"
Seriously, this is really awesome. You've got me into the story already.
Eph
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Really impressed by the opening descriptive details, they immediately transported me into your world and I felt a measure of empathy for your protagonist.I also liked the way you described Harker as a faceless mannequin, it perfectly encapsulates the horrendous sense of isolation we so often feel in our over busy existences. The tense shift in the final paragraph is also very effective in creating reader interest and the sense of mystery would make me for one want to know what happens next. It is a scary subject and one we don't tend to think too much about, so well done you for raising it.
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Capital...Top Drawer...Good Show and all that!
Quite good, Corvus. Actually, I loved it...and have written along the same lines myself...as you ARE doing now...before much of this (we don't know HOW much) takes place. We hope TOO much of it has not ALREADY taken place. But, rest assured, it IS coming...and it takes a perceptive and thoughtful writer/citizen such as yourself to envision it.
I love some of your phrases:"foetus in the womb of worry"...and the clever "world destroyed by the electron!".... Then there was the deceptively simple but perceptive: "Nobody roams anymore...how can you!" And the wonderful, although lamentable end...the cutting of the electronic chord...and the flight before the search for the "number just vanished from the data base!"
I wrote something similar some years ago...even before any of these "cards" made their appearance. I called my card the "Liesure Card." It was to be used to gain entry everywhere. At first, it was a "perk" a "priviledge"...for without it one could gain NO entry ANYWHERE...but with it one was admitted to parks, museums, events, etc. Later on, it, of course, became mandated as it stored information as to your whereabouts, activities, company, etc. It's all but upon us these days. Good there are still some of us who are not quite blind to its encroaching onset.
Meanwhile, Corvus, one critical comment, if I may, I found the somewhat blunt dialogue of the bank manager to be a little too direct. His use of the word "suspicious" was rather less than tactful. I think he would be a bit more circumspect and duplicitous in his slimy approach.Certainly less direct. Also, the TIME of the action at P1 was somewhat vague to me. I would focus in on the time more specifically. I didn't know if you were thinking BACK to a time...or whether this was your PRESENT.
And the "little pieces displayed" was fuzzy.
The rest was terrific.
I hope to be able soon to get my story, TIMEGYRE to you.
GA
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Good story
I liked the futuristic plot of the story. I thought the setting was detailed nicely and realistic. The one thing I was wondering was what drove the main character to make the final decision and head for the hills? Nice writing.
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Thank you! An accumulation of all the invasions of George's life made by technology is what drove him to escape. Moreover, I try to make it clear in the final couple of paragraphs that he feels he is not an individual any more, he is 'faceless' and a number with no identity. He felt that by leaving the civilised world we would be able to become human again.
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ho!
i love the writings when they come to the future. some people are just not realistic as of what will happen, but you portrayed it good, for i see that technology is avancing very quickly.
(in the past century, more technology has been made than ever before!)
i wouldn't be surprised to find the future as you describe it, only that i doubt that you will find a nice little brook in england by then. pollution is taking over as well.
now i am talking like a lunatic
very well-written man! cheers!
*goes do a fortress for when the toasters, TVs, and coffee machines take over the world!
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Very nice
The similes and descriptions are masterfully written. The message of letting technology go too far and become too invasive really comes across through both the character's actions and thoughts.
At first I thought George was just thinking about the advertisements calling out to him, but realized it really was a speaker calling to him. I know there probably won't be a sequel but I want one!
beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
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