NOT WORTH LIVING - SPECULATIVE SHORT FICTION

I enjoyed writing this speculative fiction when I heard a conference talking about artificial intelligence taking over the job spectrum. As part of the idea, the government would pay people not to wo

I didn't know how Grandpa's birthday gift would shake the world.

"I can't believe your great-great-great-great-great-great grandpa turns 150. That is insane!"

"I know, but I just call him grandpa. And can you believe he still lives at home?"

"No way! How does your grandpa still live at home? I thought all people were forced into Eldercare at age 85."

"Yes, they are, but grandpa doesn't have to follow the law since it was made after he was 85."

"Wow! He must be the oldest man on earth."

"Yes, he is."

Robin's eyes lingered on me, full of questions. "He must have remembered life before-"

"Yes, he does. Grandpa is sharp, and he tells me stories of what it was like to earn money."

"That sounds dreadful," Robin says.

"I don't know. I think it sounds kind of fun. I mean, what do you think it was like to have a farm? To have all those animals you were in charge of."

"-Again, dreadful."

We sip our soda out of biodegradable bubbles.

"Burp!" The carbonation rumbles up my throat. I drop the empty biodegradable bubble on the ground, and within an instant, CF89, our home robot moves from the wall and collects my trash, then turns to Robin.

"How about you, Master Robin? Would you like me to recycle your soda bubble?" CF89 asked in its New Zealand accent. I had wanted the robot to have a southern accent, but mom insisted it was New Zealand.

Instead of putting the bubble in CF89's hand, Robin drops it on the floor. Robin has never had to clean up after himself one day in his life, and neither have I.

"Very good, Master, and thank you." It picks up the trash and leaves us.

"Did you know grandpa used to have to throw his own garbage away? Can you imagine living without robots?"

"Dreadful."

"Is that all you say is dreadful?" I asked.

Robin shrugged. "I don't think it would have been very fun to live in your grandpa's day. They worked for their money. They cleaned their own house. They went to a large school and even had to walk there. Those were the old, old days. They sound…"

"Let me guess, dreadful?"

"Yup."

With our soda gone, we needed something to do. "SAFARI SUN," I said.

The room transformed into an African Safari. Long yellow grass rhythmically swayed. Lions, giraffes, and gazelles scattered around the plains, turning and heading our way.

"In my days, we used to play war video games. They were the best," great-great-grandpa said as he strolled through the room. "It was a shame they made everything peaceful."

"I didn't know your grandpa was here," Robin whispered. Because of grandpa's new fame, Robin acted shy.

Grandpa petted a zebra and lingered.

"So, ya gonna have a screen-party?" Robin asked. I am sure he hoped he could be on the live side of it, so the world could see him partying with the world's oldest man.

"I'd rather you all just skip my birthday. Everything is ruined. Life used to be fun, but not anymore."

Robin turned squarely at grandpa, highly interested in the oldest man on earth.

"How so?"

"Well, what the crap is a screen-party? In my days, people used to gather and celebrate. We partied for holidays and birthdays. We even got together because it was the weekend."

"What's so special about a weekend?" I asked

"Well, when you work hard all week, the weekend is a sliver of time just for you. You can spend it with your family and friends. You don't have to work."

"Sounds like daily life to me," I said.

"Yeah, it is stupid. Every day is the same for you. You don't value weekends because you don't work. I can't imagine sitting around on my rear all day, every day, without purpose."

"But that is what you do now, Grandpa."

"Yes, and I hate it, but I am old. That is what old people do. But you guys, come on. At your age, I worked hard. I was at a car detail place. People brought in their cars, and we cleaned them. I worked for my paycheck, not just collected a lump sum of money from the government as you do."

"What was it like to drive a car?" I asked. I had seen the old, banned movies and admit it looked fun.

Grandpa's eyes sparkled. "I loved driving. It was such a great way to burn off stress after a long day at work. I fought the law that took the ability to drive from us. I didn't think it was right then, and I don't think it is right now. The problem is that most people on this earth have never had a driving license. You guys don't know what it is like, so no one will ever fight to get that right back. It is extinct. Gone forever. What a shame."

"My dad," Robin said hesitantly. "My dad says it's the best thing in the world not to drive. He says that when people used to drive, there were thousands of car wrecks a day. He said more people died by cars than anything else on earth. Why would you want that, sir?"

"Being able to govern yourself was worth the risk."

"That just sounds sadistic. Killing millions so that you can control your own car."

"Robin," I said, slugging him in the gut. "You shouldn't talk to my grandpa like that."

"Sorry," Robin said, dropping his eyes.

"No, Eustace," Grandpa says to me. "I like a good debate. It is good for us to talk about things instead of burying real conversation as the government has brainwashed you to do."

Robin wouldn't look Grandpa in the eyes. "Robin, it's okay to talk about this. In fact, I would love you to know what life was like before the government took everything."

"Don't report Grandpa," I warned Robin.

Grandpa eyed my friend, then said, "Even if he does, what are they going to do? Execute the oldest man on earth?"

"If they see you as a threat, then yes, you know they will."

Grandpa turned from me. "Silliness. Anyways, Robin and Eustace, you are scared of free thinking and personal thought. But, once upon a time, everyone on earth had free thought. We drove our own cars. We had jobs and responsibilities. We went to work. We were allowed as stewards over our affairs. Life was wonderful."

Grandpa got too close to Robin, and Robin inched slowly away. "How could it be wonderful if you had to work? I can't imagine leaving home every single day. Sounds dreadful."

"No, son, your life is dreadful. You guys rarely leave these government apartments. How much time do you get in the sun?"

"We do half of our school in the sun."

Grandpa looked at the hologram sun above us. "Everyone thought it was such innovation when they created the outdoor classroom, and it would be if it were real. Not this fabricated life. Where is the wind? Where are the breeze and the live animals? This is stupid."

"I don't mean to argue with you, sir, but you said you were open to debate."

"I did. Go on."

"Schools were breeding grounds of germs and dangerous ideas. The government-regulated virtual school provides us with a solid, truthful education. And having an outdoor hologram is so much better for the environment. When they made outdoor holograms, the world's animal population increased. The use of those fossil fuels you recklessly used all the time decreased. Our earth healed. And the hologram-outdoors is way superior to the real outdoors."

"Phhf," Grandpa said.

"The animals here are friendly. We can touch any animal without it fearing us or hurting us." Robin turned to the lion and whistled it over. The large cat bounded to Robin's side, its long fur moving back and forth. "Huh, kitty, kitty. If you were real, you would eat me." Robin rubbed his hand along the hologram image. "Because of the hologram, no one hunts anymore, so the animals have increased because of that as well."

"I tried your garbage hologram hunt. It isn't the same. You don't experience the chill as you crawl along the brush."

"Sir, you can change the temperature to whatever setting."

"Yes, but it ain't the same," grandpa roared and turned from Robin. He didn't have debate skills as he lost his temper. "There is no touch. No smell. No breeze going by. Part of the hunt is smelling the earth and touching it. It is smelling the musk of your prey."

"My uncle just got the new Hologram840. In his, there is smell, wind, and breeze. Dad says we can get one in a couple of years when the price goes down," Robin said.

"How do you plan on affording one from government wage? Your uncle, how does he afford one?"

"Uncle Pike is an overseer."

"I don't understand how the world rolls on their back and exposes their stomach to the government. We used to have a wonderful government. It was made up of the people. We elected them, and they worked for us. Now you have the three branches of man: Those who are paid to stay home and not work. Who would allow that? Why do you allow that? What is the sense of that?" Grandpa's face turned a purplish red, and he shook his hand at the lion. He should be happy the lion was fake, or it would have bitten his hand off.

"The overseers are really the only class of people who still work. So far, they haven't fully eliminated the need for men to oversee all the robots. But they will one day, and soon your uncle will be as worthless as the rest of you."

"Grandpa," I warned him.

Robin held his hand up to me. "No, I hope they do soon. Last week, Uncle Pike got a cold. We were so scared for him. If everyone quit leaving the house, then no one would get sick. I haven't had a virus for four years now, and mom says it was Uncle Pike who had infected me."

"Your uncle had a cold. So, what! Getting sick is part of life. The natural life."

"But it doesn't have to be, sir. Why chance it? Nothing in our homes is ever touched by strange human hands. Robots handle everything from the farm to the factory to delivery. The system is genius."

Grandpa's face softened as he went to Robin's side. He put his hand on Robin's shoulder as Robin tensed up. "Please don't touch me," he whispered.

Grandpa's face turned purple again, but he didn't say anything as he removed his hand.

"It's amazing you are still allowed to procreate. You might catch a cold by being intimate with your wife," Grandpa snarled.

"Oh, they almost have that solved."

"Solved?"

"Yeah, they are creating something that can fuse the egg and sperm outside the womb and then put it back in."

"That isn't new technology. They even did that in my day."

"Yeah, but this is really cool. They have a special robot doctor that comes into your home. The robot will do the whole process from extraction, incubation, and implantation. That way, you really don't have to participate in that disease-infested, barbaric act of creation."

Grandpa shook his head. "So sad. Do you believe in this garbage that they indoctrinate you with?"

"Full hardily," I said to ease the tension between Robin and Grandpa. "You lived in scary times, Grandpa. I don't know why you feel they were better than ours. Today, hardly anyone dies of infections. You should love that since most of your family died of diseases."

"That is the natural process. That is how we keep populations in control."

"The government does that now. You are only allowed to have one kid now, and that is if both the mom and dad have high enough IQs. I can't understand why anyone would want more than one kid."

"I can't understand how that is the government's choice." Grandpa paces around a Baobab tree, which is three times his height.

"Sir, you seem to feel your world was better, but it wasn't. There aren't car wrecks anymore. There aren't industrial accidents that kill people. We aren't out spreading disease." Robin sat on the couch, which looked like a giant rock in the hologram room. "And we have restored the environment. You lived in global warming and barbaric times."

"It is horse dung that I have to take a virus test to be allowed entrance into my great granddaughter's house or any other place on earth."

"Grandpa," I hesitantly asked. "Is it true that the government doesn't follow the same rules?"

"Eustace, Why would you ask that?" Robin asked as his voice tensed.

"Well, I heard they have an island the government goes to where they can drive old-fashioned cars and have parties bigger than ten people. I heard there are farms on the island, and some of them even grow their own food."

"I hate the government," Grandpa groans. "They took freedom from everyone yet retained theirs. They put wage caps on the overseers and pay the rest of you to do nothing. Yet, they have more money than the lost city of Atlantis."

"What is the lost city of Atlantis?"

"Never mind. This life is not worth living."

That night, as my relatives gathered over virtuality to plan the party, grandpa took his old fashion photo album to the mountains. Would the police arrest him for going out? That would be awful to have happen the night before his 150th birthday. He could have just gone to my hologram mountain.

Grandpa's big day came, and news agencies from around the world tuned into his virtual party. But Grandpa never showed up.

Our family was sick with worry. What could have happened to Grandpa?

"That foolish old man, why did he take the chance?" My dad said.

"Don't talk about your great-great-great-great-grandpa like that," his dad scolded.

"Well, it's true. He could have gone anywhere in the world in our hologram room. Why did he chance to fall off a cliff or being killed by an animal? People from his era took unnecessary risks."

"I can't argue that."

The bots and drones dispersed, looking for him, and one day later, they found grandpa's body propped up on a tree trunk. He had his photo album open in his lap. His hand held a letter.

"To the world," it read. "I am the oldest man alive. And for what? This world you created is hell. In my youth, we lived life. We loved life. We took chances. To have every part of your life padded and protected is no way to live. You do not know joy. You do not know excitement. You only know conformity. I would risk my life a million times over just to drive a car again. To mingle among others. To touch and hug another human. I would risk death to take a walk along the beach or climb a mountain. Your control is no way to live. Yes, you have almost eliminated viruses, but at what cost? And why do you shove your people in their homes while the robots run the world?

My birthday gift to myself is to choose the way I die, and I did. Because of your innovations and forced health care, I do not know how much longer you will force me to live. I can't handle the thought of one more day under your regulations or the idea of another fifty years of a controlled life. No one knows how to think for themself, nor do they know the sweet flavor of freedom. If you did, you would all rise this very moment and revolt.

So, on the eve of my 150th birthday, I will deprive the world of having a citizen live to 150. And I will give myself the greatest gift of all.

Freedom from your control."

And just like that, my grandpa departed the world. His gift deprived us of having someone live to 150.

My mind replayed a lifetime of his teachings. Did he live a better life by taking risks? Only he would know.

Was his freedom sweeter than death?