Tevun-Krus #88 - Post-CyberPunk

Kevin v.4.8.21 - A Short Story by @sleepingdraco

Mrs. Johnston looked irritated, though only the faintest of lines creased the furrowed brow of her blemish-free face. She smoothed her pristine golden locks and looked at her handsome husband. Mr. Johnston puffed out his muscled chest.

Everything about this couple was perfect: their stature, their looks, their clothes, their speech. Attractive couples were the norm and always got what they wanted, but now the Johnstons were running into a wall. This was not something either of them had ever experienced.

"We were under the impression nothing significant could be harmed from frequent rebooting." Mr. Johnston put his arm around his wife's shoulders and assumed a concerned look, but he too shared her annoyance.

Dr. Martin wore a crisp white lab coat and sat behind an elegant desk in his pleasant and spacious office. He had witnessed this situation one too many times. As a man of science, he attempted to suppress the emotions people like Johnstons stirred within him. He tried his best to remain patient, but he didn't respect this couple. What he saw before his eyes only happened with excessive rebooting, above and beyond the reflex a normal person has when something goes wrong that they don't know how to fix.

"The capacitor wore out," he explained. "As I'm sure you know, capacitors store and release energy." Dr. Martin cringed at his own words. Like his customers, he spoke as if this problematic situation belonged to a robot.

"I don't even recognize him," said Mrs. Johnston, pushing a lock of her son's hair out of his handsome face. The youth started past her barely blinking.

"You can understand, Dr. Martin, how difficult teens can be," said Mr. Johnston. "It's like he lost all rational thought once he turned 13. We often find ourselves at our wit's end."

Dr. Martin remained stoney-faced. He wasn't going to excuse this father's behavior. True children were routinely outfitted with small brain electrodes fitted with a neurostimulator controlled by a parent's smartphone. A full reboot assisted in breaking prolonged toddler tantrums and occasionally allowing an over-wrought child some much needed sleep. But even computers could be rebooted one too many times.

"What would you call this state?" asked Mrs. Johnston.

Dr. Martin carefully considered his approach both from a scholarly and moral perspective. "Well," he began, "the ancient theologians referred to this state as acedia, a state of torpor or sloth. Some regarded it as a sign of weakness but one that could be overcome by embracing the daily tasks God faces us with..."

He looked at the blank stare shared by Mr. and Mrs. Johnston. He had clearly lost them. Most of modern society had no idea what religion was beyond the sterile commercialized holidays.

Dr. Martin opted for a different approach. "Many years ago physicians called this state depression, a state of sadness and apathy towards life. There were medications and certain therapies that could help."

Mrs. Johnston wrinkled her nose. "My family paid to have any genetic tendencies towards depression removed four generations ago, and we cleaned Ross's DNA," she patted her husband's cheek, "of such trash thoroughly before reproducing."

Dr. Martin had expected this was how he conversation would go. He allowed the Johnstons to sit in an uncomfortably long silence, something their modern hyper-programmed life never allowed. The couple squirmed uncomfortably.

"Could we just replace the capacitor then?" asked Mr. Johnston with an attempt at cheerfulness in his voice.

"I'm afraid not," said Dr. Martin. "You see, in humans the whole body acts as a capacitor."

"Oh," said the Johnstons in unison. They looked void of emotion, not sad as Dr. Martin felt good parents should.

"There is one thing I've seen work," said Dr. Martin hesitantly. This would be a long shot.

"We'll try anything," said Mrs. Johnston because it was the right thing to say.

"You could take him to the carnival," said Dr. Martin. The couple before him gasped with shock but Dr. Martin pushed on. "You could buy him cotton candy and french fries."

"I'm appalled," said Mr. Johnston, holding his wife tightly to his chest as if protecting her from evil. Mrs. Johnston averted her eyes. "Are you suggesting LEAVING the bubble?"

"There are horrible, dirty, uncouth people in the beyond," said Mrs. Johnston, her face buried in her husband's arms.

"Those people live like animals. They eat things that pollute the body as if they don't care. Life exists like it did eons ago when weirdos like Micheal Jackson and Billy Joel roamed the world." Mr. Johnston wore a face of repulsion. Mrs. Johnston let out a theatrical gasp.

"I've seen it work many times. It may give him the strength to biologically regenerate his capacitance," said Dr. Martin, but he knew it was no use.

"No thank you,'' said Mr. Johnston, "we'll take Kevin's clone out of cryo storage and dispose of this failed model."

"Very well," said Dr. Martin. "I can take care of the details for you." He pulled up a screen on his tablet. "Please sign here to consent." Mr. and Mrs. Johnston pressed their thumbs to the screen. They had resumed their normal pleasantly aloof demeanor. Dr. Martin on the other hand felt his blood boil, yet he remained calm and controlled. "You can pick Kevin's clone up tomorrow morning."

"Dear, I think I need an evening at the oxygen spa," said Mrs. Johnston to her husband as they walked to the door.

"Of course sweetheart. This has been an all together upsetting afternoon." And with that the Johnstons stepped onto a transporter and vanished.

Dr. Martin turned to Kevin once his parents were safely out of hearing range.

"What do you think, Kevin? Would you like to try some cotton candy at the carnival with me and go on a ride? They're really dangerous but great fun."

Kevin moved for the first time since his parents had wheeled him in. He looked at Dr. Martin with a gleam in his eye. A smile crossed his lips but he still didn't say anything.

"Your parents and this bubble are the relic from the past. There is a whole world out there to explore," said Dr. Martin.

Kevin cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "I have no idea what cotton candy is," he said, "but I'm pretty sure I've wanted to go to the carnival my whole life." He started to shake with excitement. He looked up at Dr. Martin. "I might never want to leave."

"The best ones never do," said Dr. Martin. "The best ones never do.