The New World

The Navel of the World

The road ahead was empty to the horizon. In the two hours they had been driving, they had only come across rare vehicles, distant copper reflections approaching from the opposite lanes, separated from them by a wide strip of bare ground, then disappearing behind them. Miryana, sitting in the driver's seat, kept an eye on the road even though the on-board computer managed most situations.

Mens was in his own world, concentrating on his lack of an implant. Stunned by the drugs, he daydreamed as the uniform plain unfolded endlessly. On either side of the road, there was nothing but yellow-grey steppe punctuated by sparse bush and cactus vegetation. In the distance, relief loomed, promising a break in the monotony.

Miryana turned to Mens.

"Ever since your implant problem, haven't you felt different?", she asked him.

Mens, sitting in a seat in the second row, snapped out of his torpor.

"Right now, I'm totally disoriented after the reset", he struggled to articulate. "It's difficult, you know. Ever since I was a year old, having everything at hand, instantly. Always being connected. And now, nothing. Total emptiness."

Miryana tapped on the dashboard to put on some music.

"Mens, hasn't it been a few times since you've slept without transferring?"

"Last night must have been the third time. What's wrong with that?"

"You should feel the difference after a week. Unfortunately, you'll be completely reinducted before then."

"Unfortunately? What do you mean, unfortunately?"

"You know, Mens, the implant isn't just a thought gateway to the world of knowledge. The Refuge is not the inviolable sanctuary that religion claims it to be. Some people arrogate to themselves the right to enter without being invited."

"Explain yourself, I don't understand a word you're saying."

"Yes, what I was telling you about the implant. The subjects I've studied who've had implant failure, whether because of Linke's syndrome like you, or for other reasons, have always done well in the end. Of course, there's a difficult period of anxiety and disorientation to overcome, but after that, it's... how shall I put it, positive for them. They abandon the wells of happiness, becoming somehow less passive. New behaviors emerge. It's amazing, they rebel against society, religion... Then, when you reset them, everything returns to normal. They resume their compulsive habits. Don't you think that's weird?"

"Are you trying to prove to me that the Spirit Pearl makes people as gentle as lambs and drives them to connect to the wells of happiness? But access to immense reservoirs of knowledge, and the possibility of connecting to everyone by thought, who could do without that today? Our society is based on this implant, and we can't do without it now. Not to mention the Refuge's protection against Mind Devouring."

Miryana laughed.

"Well, Mens, you've learned your lesson!"

"No, you're not going to tell me that you too..., are leaning towards the Rebellion."

"Me? No..., I'm just drawing conclusions from my clinical observations."

She turned away, no doubt deep in thought.

Then she opened the window on her side and put out her hand, struggling against the wind to keep it upright. Fresh air entered the cabin.

Mens reclined her seat and plunged back into the contemplation of the landscape. As they climbed towards the Colorado Plateau, the vegetation had taken on new colors, and trees had replaced cacti.