LIght Born in Darkness

-Data Log of Saneen Day 001, Week 01, Year 2445-

Our world is a calamity of darkness. Shadows cover all of us. Our days are darkness personified. Work. Home. Home. Work. We are all slaves to the wealthy that reside in the towers that rise above the ground and into the sky. The wealthy sign off of their shift with, "We have errands to run now and so we hand you over to 'insert name here' to continue this constant broadcast." I do not know what an 'errand' is or what 'run' means. I know it in the abstract, of course, but not its actual meaning.

You see I have been here in this room since around the time I turned five. Today is my fifteenth year of existence and on my screen blinking in black and white read the words, 'Happy 15th Birthday Saneen,' and still to this day I do not understand the meaning of the word 'Happy'. Every year I see it. I have used the information highway to try and glean its meaning. But it seems it is not something I am capable of figuring out or understanding. My life does not change.

I glance around and see only the same door to the lavatory, door to the sleeping cell, and this main room where my consoles and towers are set up. Two steps out from behind my consoles and I am at the other side of the room at the lavatory door to the east. Two steps west from my console and I am at my sleeping cell. Both doors slide inward into the wall to save space. In the lavatory there is a commode and a shower that fits me with no space to spare. There is a small sink right across from the commode on the right side of the entrance. It is where I refill my drink cup periodically during the day. Especially when I am hungry. Because food is only served twice daily at twelve hour intervals and it is very small in portion.

I am one of the fortunate ones. I need not leave my home to travel to work and then back to home. To me that is very fortunate indeed. I have worked my mandatory ten years and everything I have has been provided for me by my former employers. I am not wealthy but I have precisely what I need; nothing more and nothing less. I need nothing. I want nothing. Once every twelve weeks I stand and allow myself to be measured. If I have grown clothing is delivered and if I have not then it is not. I only wear a white tunic and white shorts. There used to be underthings but that was deemed unnecessary and therefore banned.

Everyone lives in a place such as this. You see we are controlled from the moment we exist. Even our conception is planned. Now. It used to be we all lived in family 'units' however that was prohibited many years ago. Now we go to centers that take our genetic material combine it with other material and produce offspring that only remain with the female parent for a few bare years. Families such as mine were broken up and each sent to far away places. I do not remember faces. Not even shadows of faces. This place is my life and I do not set foot outside of it. It is not allowed.

I am similar to everyone. There is nothing about me that stands out. I have no hair. It too was prohibited. It got in the way of production a long time ago and was banned. A few disobeyed. According to the learning modules they were dragged out from their homes into the street and publicly shaved from head to toe and then were beaten and left to lay there and die. A reminder, no, a warning about what happens when an edict is ignored. There is no fear in this world now. You do as you are directed. Life is simple. And if I wonder what happiness is, well, that is my own curiosity that will never be sated.

There are windows, two large bay windows, that I can stare up over my screens out. It is idyllic. No one is around. I was placed on the outskirts of what used to be a town. Nobody lives here now. Save for me. The buildings that made up the town have long since gone been taken back by nature that has long since wilted and withered away. People live in the cluster communities around the various towers where they go to and from work, braving the darkness, not once needing to go on an 'errand'. The ground around this small cottage I reside in is a barren landscape. Air quality is sub par. It is better closer to the towers according to the reports I've read. But even there it is less than desirable.

I see the towers out in the distance when I look up. There is no sky. There is no sun. Tales used to circulate about a strange yellow orb that brightens the gloom but those are only tales and legends. The towers' umbrella's cover the sky. Supposedly there are some wealthy onces who keep the towers retracted but that is only supposition. Here there is no sun. And there is no sky. And the earth is a barren landscape of sand and dried, cracked, earth.

The alarm goes off, an almost silent hum, telling me it is time to power down and prepare for rest. And so I end my first log of this first day of the fifteenth year of my existence. With the tower rising high above the umbrella. Good night.

-End Data Log Entry Mode-
-Computer is Powering Down-

Standing she stretches and touches the ceiling, her hands flattening against it, before turning and moving into the lavatory and closing the door behind her. The commode flushes shortly thereafter. The sink runs. After which the shower turns on and runs until a soft chime is heard. At which point the sound of the shower stops and soon she emerges wearing nothing. Her body is slim, bordering on skeletal, and her skin is paler then the white clothing she had been wearing before the shower.

The windows are now covered by heavy white drapes which slid to cover the windows as the power down chime went off. The drapes match the wall color so well that they blend in and are barely able to be made out.  A soft light flickered on almost to the instant that the monitors powered down. It emits a greenish glow that lights the room just enough for her to move without tripping over anything or striking anything as she moves. Four steps and she's at the sleeping cell and opening the door. A futon stretches the length and width of the sleeping cell and she climbs onto it and is soon fast asleep.

-Computer powering up-

The screen flickers through several loading screens as the powerful tower assessed the components attached to its various ports and hubs before the yellow screen and gray and white circular logo spread across the screen in bold lettering 'Mcsorzo Operating System Coder Professional Series' and then the actual desktop appeared shortly thereafter.

The slender figure sat before the computer as she waited with patience for the boot up process to finish up. Then her fingers went to work. She pulled up three different browsers, two multi-messenger programs that had tabs popping up almost immediately, and two word processor programs that soon had coded text growing on it. She no longer ~had~ to work but she did so simply because it was interesting and filled her time. Though it also padded her credit towards anything else she might need in the future.

As the screen flickered, time passed. A chime and she stood and ate the food that the replicators produced. She was done by the time the second chime sounded and she disposed of the empty remains and proceeded into the lavatory. Yet another chime sounded and she emerged, refreshed, and walked the two steps to sit back down on the floor in front of the trio of screens where she continued what she'd began.

She paused every so often to answer various instant messages but always returned to the ever-lengthening pages filled with coding as the hours passed. A warning chime sounds and she saves her work then closes out of the word processor programs, messenger services, and shuts down the browsers before clicking on the icon of another singular program.

---LOADING---
--Memorial Log is Booting Up-

-Data Log of Saneen Day 015, Week 6, Year 2445-

The days pass endlessly. Doing the same thing every day, every week, every year. I wonder yet again if this is 'happiness'. I speak to employers and potential employers on a day to day basis. Projects get done. Projects get started again. It is the only thing that breaks up the monotony of the day. The various scheduler alarms shatter the silence that is always surrounding me.

I learned a new word today. Found it in the ones and zeroes that float out there on the silent, sterile, web. Its called Loneliness. The definition is...

-Log Suspended Momentarily-

Her eyes widen as a piece of the umbrella crashes down. Not nearby, fortunately, but within the line of sight of her bay windows off in the distance. Standing she walked towards the windows to stare and ended up needing to steady herself as the ground shook from the impact and dust blew into the windows causing her eyes to widen.

She couldn't peel herself away from the scenes emerging but finally she shifted herself back behind her monitors and resumed the log.

-Log Resumed-

...the sensation of constantly being alone. I must interrupt momentarily. An odd occurrence has happened. A portion of the Umbrella has fallen. The ground shook here even though it was far away. It was frightening but oddly fascinating. Its very dusty outside now. I can hear and see it hitting the plasti-glass windows. Its too dusty to see much of anything. I wonder what sort of damage was done...

-Log Suspended-

Another louder crashing *thwoom* sounded and this time she fell to the ground from the quake that followed shortly after. More dust and small pieces of debris slammed into the window with much greater force than before. She stared outside wide-eyed, frightened, wondering. The umbrella falling was an unprecedented event but she couldn't ~see~ anything.

-Log Resumed-

I think yet another one fell just a few minutes ago. The ground is still shaking. I got thrown down, though I managed to avoid my equipment just barely, and my wrist and shoulder now ache. However this log has to get done before the final bed time alarm sounds. Power is cut at that time and anything not finished gets deleted during the shut down process. Ah. There is the chime now. Signing off.

Goodnight.

-End Data Log-

Her fingers find the off button and press it. Then she rises and proceeds into the lavatory to prepare for bed.

-Computer Is Powering Down-

The light winks out even as the small light kicks on. Emerging from the lavatory she then proceeds to the sleeping chamber, climbs onto the bed, and is soon fast asleep even whilst more dust and debris hits against the window.

A New Day

There was no alarm that woke her up today. In fact, there was only an odd, disconcerting silence. She sat up. Then slowly stood and headed into the bathroom only to find that there was no water flowing. In fact, the light didn't even flick on when she walked in. Nothing happened. The room was dark. The small main room where her computer sat was dim. There was debris in a small stack against the heavy-duty windows. She tried to turn the computer on but nothing happened. Fear. Discomfort. Uncertainty. All new experiences. She stared out of the large plate glass wall and worried. Going outside wasn't allowed. In fact it was expressly forbidden. But with no power there would be no food, no water, no computer, and no interweb.


Staring outside it is much brighter than she is used to and it blinds her. Her hands cover her eyes as agony shoots through her head and she shrieks. Silently. The dim light that is normal has given way to a dust-filled brightness that is painful and frightening. Her eyes remain closed, she lays before the window, the pain is extreme. She hears a *pop* and then the glass shatters, the small pieces flying over her to cover the slightly rocking form. A moment later something touches her. A voice whispers, "you'll be fine. Don't worry," its very low but she can hear it quite easily. Her body is lifted off the ground and the gruff voice states, "We've found a survivor," the voice is very loud to her sensitive ears and she whimpers and shivers. Its almost too much for her deprived senses. "She seems to be light and sound sensitive. Bring the tech. She'll probably be more comfortable with some familiar things around," again the noise is too loud and again she whimpers. She hears no other person but it is fairly obvious that, whomever it is, they are speaking to someone, somewhere, somehow.

The masculine, though she knows not that it is male at this time, voice softens greatly and takes on yet again that whispered sound, "so girl, what is your name?" A cool damp cloth is settled across her eyes and she whispers out in a hoarse, disused, voice, "Saneen." Speaking wasn't really allowed except in 'technical' situations such as physician visits or if someone were called to the Tower. Then the questions were expected to be answered instantly whether you could really speak or not. She flinched as another soft, cool, damp cloth is placed over her eyes, (replacing the one that had been placed their just a few moments prior), and again the gruff soft voice whispers, "this should help the pain a bit. You'll be fine. You're just not used to bright light. But you will adjust." She simply sighed in relief as whatever made the cloth damp took instant effect and nodded. Speaking was forbidden. She would not go against the Laws.

Her fingers moved, as if working on a keyboard, and he nodded even as he strode out of the 'house' and into the debris towards an unusual ship. He stared down at the girl in his arms and scowled. She was small. Her body was more skeletal than lean. The people in the Large Tower had been fat, well fed, and spoiled. In every 'house' he'd investigated down here, however, he'd found people so thin it disgusted him. All of the abodes were small. He'd been shocked at first by how little space they had. Some of them were even much smaller than the smallest storage cabins aboard ship. Looking down he couldn't help but wonder what her hair color would be.

His people had stumbled upon this world in a search for a new home. They'd monitored things for several years before coming to a decision. The people on this world were in need of the aid they could provide. Those horrible towers were summarily blasted out of existence. The abodes cluttered around the bases of those monstrosities had been evacuated. Not even one house had been missed. They'd been extraordinarily careful. The people were moved into domes that his people had erected. Oddly enough her abode had been last. The populace of this world was a paltry few hundred thousand. There were many abodes that had...skeletons...people who'd long since died and rotted down to nothing. So many losses. And quite a few had been children given skeletal sizes.

Quite a few of the dead had been around one of the towers and within it. They hadn't figured out precisely what had happened but they were investigating it. When a million people die, someone should understand the 'why' of it.  There had been five Towers total. One had long since lost the heavy plates that they upheld to keep out the light, the large populace clustered around it had died, not much of a mystery as to those deaths. However they were investigating how the tower malfunctioned and the individuals within it had perished.

He glanced back towards the abode he was now leaving behind and realized that there was no power. No water. No sound what-so-ever. He spoke into his mic, "No Power. I think that's one mystery solved. It seems like everything is provided for them without them having to do much at all." He noted that she'd flinched and startled at the sound of his voice. But he wasn't shouting and wouldn't whisper unless speaking directly to her. She had been assigned to him. Every one of his people had been assigned to one of hers. The children would be easiest to teach.

Her age was a complete mystery. She wasn't a tall person, her frame was delicate, petite though that could just be due to stunted growth. Every sound had her startling though. He chuckled. Because this next very large sound would more or less scare the shit out of her. He strode aboard the small craft that he flew and settled her down on a bench-bed, strapping her in even as he whispered, "we're going for a little ride. I'm your new teacher and will be taking you to where I live," at the sight of her fingers trying to type out something he sighed, "Use your voice Saneen." Then frowned as she flinched at that and curled up even as her soft voice whispered out, "I'll be executed if I speak without express permission of the Ones in the Towers," and then went silent.

"You're not allowed to speak? Not even socially?" At the negative shake of her head he scowled and muttered into the mic as he walked to his Pilot's Seat, "give that damned Tower another blast...for me. We now know why the people are so silent. Speaking is an executable offense." His ear piece crackled and a rough female voice came across, "You gotta be KIDDING me! Death just for talking??? That makes NO sense!!" To which he answered readily, "You're telling me! We might want to try and find out what other 'Laws' they've been trained to follow mindlessly. It'll go a long way to retraining them in how to live...instead of just existing. I'm signing off of the mic. I'm in the ship now and will rejoin ya shortly. Jeordan out." The ear piece crackled for the last time, "Roger that. See you when you arrive Jeordan Le Vie Rasca. Her tech is being carefully packed up even as we speak and the rest of the crew await your arrival, Sir," then went silent.

He smiled and fired up the engines...and his guest began a silent shrieking. He could hear it, his pointed ears were keen, and he let the engines warm up as he stood and walked back to her. She was laying in a puddle, scared out of her mind, and he reached up into a small compartment and came out with an oddly cylindrical object and pressed it against the nape of her neck. A soft *shaa* was heard and very quickly she fell silent, her breathing becoming deep and even. "Yeah. Sleep. Hopefully while you're asleep your body will become accustomed to the sounds." He replaced the cylinder and moved into the seat again, strapped himself in, and kicked the engines up into lift-off level.