7 MinutesA Story by Jarod Lojeck When the world puts all the information at your fingertips, and makes the most complicated answers just a thought away, what happens when you want to opt-out?
7 Minutes: By Jard Lojeck
Jason woke up to the most severe pain he had ever felt in his life. He wasn't sure if it was the charred skin on his temple, or the fried synapses in his brain that hurt more. He had always been told that the brain itself could not feel pain, nor toenails or hair for that matter, but right now every fiber of his being was in agony.
He sat back in his chair and tried to focus on the sound of the springs supporting the tilting back instead of the scent of burnt flesh. He resisted the urge to touch his head right now, knowing whatever agony he felt would pale in comparison to accidentally debriding the burn. He was in pain, and no one else knew.
A smile crept across his face as he realized there was no query in the corner of his vision asking if he was alright. There was no prompt to alert medical teams that his heart rate was escalating. There wasn't even the hum in his brain of the web, the subtle reminder that any information he would desire was a thought away. Wiki be damned, he would spell foenix however he pleased!
For the first time in his life, Jason was alone.
He opened his eyes and was startled by his reflection in the polished steel refrigerator door. His hair was all gone, and the wisps of smoke coming from his left temple and ear looked almost comical, like something out of a cartoon after the bumbling coyote had been blown up with the abnormally large stick of dynamite. He was naked, and revolted by how stringy and atrophied his muscles had become. His skin looked sickly and pale, having never been touched by the sun since his youth. Without the ego filters and virtual suit he was looking at the reality of his condition for the first time. It was the most beautiful sight his eyes had ever seen, and quite possibly the first sight he could claim to be his own.
The red skin of the cherry on the kitchen counter caught his eye. It was the only thing in the entire apartment that wasn't either stainless steel or polymer. The deep red color and green stem looked so out of place in his mind. The little droplet of moisture on the skin beckoned him. His mouth watered for the taste of this little orb of wonderment; but he would wait.
- - - - -
“Focus!” The man in the basement storage room had yelled. “You can be without a signal for a few minutes and no one will notice. Now listen, if you f**k this up, you're dead! Got it?”
Jason had nodded out of habit. He really didn't understand what was going on too well, the throb in his head wasn't letting him concentrate. He did the smart thing and set his vis-cam to record the conversation for later, when the absence of the web wasn't driving him crazy.
The man ran through the instructions on how to kill the implant. He laid out where to set the leads from the car batteries, how to assemble the transformer, and how to trigger the current for the right amount of time, even after he lost consciousness. Jason just wanted to get the hell out of this basement and get back to an area where he had a signal. Sure he'd be cutting it off for good soon, but for now he wasn't ready. For now his mind was calculating the time since his last bio-scan transmission, and wondering if the cops would come for him when he got back to the surface. They always searched people who spent too much time out of range, and when Jason left this basement he'd have a suitcase filled with some of the most indicting contraband in the world. A simple collection of power cells and wires that would get him shot on sight. He would have the ticket to his own freedom. Possession of such things was never tolerated.
Jason tried to stand from his chair, and fell hard. His legs wobbled and spasmed as he laid on the floor trying to get up to his hands and knees. He pulled himself along the cold metal floor until he reached his kitchen counter. The drawers made good finger holds to pull himself up to a sitting position. He sat there, feeling the cool steel against his naked back, and breathed the sterile air being circulated through his apartment. He looked over at the window and double checked the six holes where bolts had previously been holding the plate shutters in place.
He realized he had no clocks in his apartment. There was no need when everyone always knew the time anyway. Every person in the world knew it was 16:27:34 at the right moment. The man who sold Jason the wiring had said he could expect a 7 minute response time. He advised Jason to make it count. Now Jason wondered how many had been used trying to find the balance to get up.
He would not waste a moment more. He spun around onto his knees, and clutched the top of the kitchen counter. With a scream he pulled himself up to his feet, and braced against the counter as his legs found their balance. His vision fluctuated between blurring and whiting out as he stood. He shook off the vertigo and reached out for the cherry on the counter.
- - - - -
“Take this.” the man in the basement had said that day. “When you're done, if you can, eat this.”
“What is it?” Jason had asked as he held the little red orb in his palm, afraid to close his grasp on it.
“It's a cherry. A real cherry. May be the best damn thing you'll ever eat. Good luck pal.”
Jason stood staring at the little fruit for a moment, and when he looked up to ask the man where he had gotten real produce, he was gone. Jason put the cherry in his pocket, and walked out into the street again. The rush of signal into his brain was overwhelming at first. In the 4 minutes he had spent out of range 13 people had tried to message him, 17 new news reports had posted in his local area, and one bio-scan had gone unregistered. Jason acknowledged that his heart rate was elevated, but that he did not require assistance. That's when the thought hit him, and the resolve to go through with his plan welled up inside of him. He hadn't acknowledged anyone, or anything in particular. He just knew that somewhere, someone had registered that he had missed a scan, and his heart rate was elevated. In milliseconds an automated system had inquired about his status, and with a thought as purposeful as blinking he has told this automaton that he was okay. He couldn't even have a fluctuation in his mood without an official inquiry.
For the whole walk home Jason had to try to stop any of his errant thoughts from triggering a Wiki search. Just a stray thought about “implant nullification” might alert the authorities that he was trying to go offline. He couldn't risk some over zealous auditor launching an investigation. The recorded conversation with the directions for setting up the bug zapper might not be found for a few hours, and by that time he'd be done. He just had to make it home and let the apartment systems block any inquiries while he set up the device.
- - - - -
Jason walked to the window and put the stem of the cherry between his teeth. The grassy taste of the stem filled his senses and he paused as he sucked more of the dew from the green fibers into his mouth. He stood there, his hands braced on the sides of his plate metal shutters, and tasted nature for the first time.
Something in his mind snapped, and he knew he only had a minute or two left before they arrived. He took a deep breath, and pulled the shutters as hard as he could. The plate fell straight down and landed on his left foot. The sickening sound of metal crushing bone assaulted his ears, and the pain shot through his spine like a lightening bolt. He started to fall backward, but grabbed the window frame and steadied himself. He pulled the shutter off of his broken toes, and tried to force himself to breathe through the pain. The searing agony turned to a pulsing throbbing pain that could be managed. Jason looked up.
The world outside was bright. The sun was low in the sky, and directly across from his window. He squinted into the light, and waited for his assaulted optical nerves to adjust to the new input. He looked out at the building all around him, some 400 stories tall. The ground 187 floors down looked like a model of reality. The dots moving around were the only clue that this was indeed the real world, and not some mock-up. Jason leaned forward and looked up at the sky through the valley of steel and glass above him. Straight up he could see the blue hue of the sky, and a wisp of cloud without looking into the blinding sun.
Jason opened his teeth, and let the cherry fall into his palm again. He picked it up by the stem, and put it into his mouth. The last sensation he ever felt was the burst of flavor that filled his mouth as his teeth punctured the skin of the cherry. The sweet, tangy juices rushed to his taste buds and danced with his imagination. He could taste the sun in it, and the sky. He could taste a sweetness unlike any other, and marveled at the texture of the stone as his teeth met it. He chewed slowly, afraid to use it up too quickly, and realized that he alone was tasting this cherry. No one could share this with him.
- - - - -
The footage from the sniper's vis-cam was mandatory viewing for all people in Jason's area. Many watched the requisite time, and filed it away under the title “Terrorist shot dead. City is saved by local police.” For most people it was a mandatory news event to be viewed and forgotten before going back to their work, or programs, or pornography. For some especially patriotic folk it was an event to be cheered and forwarded to friends in other areas, or countries; along with recorded shouts of joy and triumph.
The simple 23 second footage of a highly trained sniper sighting a man that looked more like a skeleton draped in skin that a human being as he stood naked in his window was one of the most re-watched pieces of footage on YouTube/state that year. Billions of people watched as the sniper sent a .50 caliber round through Jason's nasal cavity and out the base of his neck, causing him to fall dead to the floor instantly. Most watched and said “He got what he deserved.” Some recoiled in shock every time the floor behind him went from the shine of polished steel to the deep red of spilled pooling blood. Most but not all.
For all the millions of people who watched and thought of Jason's death as a triumph for civilization there were a few who wondered where he got the wires. When the sniper could be heard asking “Why the hell do they always smile like that?”, at least one viewer knew, and imagined about what he would do in those 7 minutes.
The end.
© 2008 Jarod LojeckReviews
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Added on July 6, 2008Last Updated on July 6, 2008 Author
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