Aaron's World (second and Final part)

NINE YEARS AND FOURTEEN DAYS (9.534) after his arrival -- a Thursday -- Aaron returned to his couch, the exotic flavour of Puff-Bix lingering on his taste buds. Rosemary had been on his mind a great deal recently. A lot of memories of life in Plymouth.UK had floated to the surface over the previous months. Recollection of his daily queuing for a turn at the repro-garb port – so soon forgotten after his arrival – brought a whimsical snigger.

********

SOLD ON PROMISES of nesting in an area of wide well-kept beaches with views of mountains and round year swimming in pristine ocean (often visited by whales!) Aaron accepted an offer of a new Domestinest.LUX in a “village” on the east coast of the Baja California Peninsular.

“Enjoy life in a sub-tropical Paradise!”

THE MANIC FIRST DAY in the village ended with him spending the night with Krystl, his Welcome-Guide. An unexpected introduction to a new affluent lifestyle. Aaron never forgot the day Krystl gifted him.  The thing he remembered most – he never saw her again.

PUZZLED when questions about Krystl – so generously welcomed in the many bars and eating places she’d shown him the day before – were answered with blank expressions and sideways glances. Aaron told himself; ‘I was drunk, maybe it was the alcohol.’ Nevertheless, a germ of doubt crept in which slowly infected him with cynicism as time moved on. Krystl’s last words as she left him that day stayed stubbornly at the edge of his consciousness for the rest of his life. ‘Aaron my darling, here there are only two rules; “Have fun” and “No regrets.”’

HE’D HAD FUN for sure, but he couldn’t say the same about regrets. What would his life had been if he’d swallowed his pride and gone for a much lower income with a U-Chooz Domestinest.STD? Had Rosemary and the kids not been killed he guessed they’d probably succumb to planned euthanization like their parents; ‘for the sake of the kid’s education.’ In time maybe, he’d have gotten over the loss of his family and met another “soul-mate.” It came as a shock at the realisation spending a pre-planned thirty-five years with a life partner was probably what he’d really wanted. No Regrets? Fuck!

THAT DAY HE SPENT THE AFTERNOON in his favourite bar, Tu Cariño getting loaded. He cried. He got so smashed his car didn’t immediately recognise his voice command to take him home. The other guests, most of whom he knew, left him alone. They seemed to understand what he was going through. The he next day he returned to the bar intending to apologise. Everyone he spoke to said they hadn’t even seen him in there. He wasn’t surprised, he’d long realised he was a member of a specious society.

THAT WAS THE WAY IT WAS. It dawned after he gave up looking for Krystl. It was the way people coped. Rule number two Aaron called it: No Fucking Regrets.

‘HONEY IT’S NOT WISE TO FORM RELATIONSHIPS HERE. . .’ Krystl had said when he asked to see her again. It didn’t take long to hook up with someone else. It was easy . . . too easy. They came; they went. If (or rather when) someone ceased to be around it was never mentioned. ‘We don’t speak about those things, we all know why we are here.’.’ Krystl told him.

AS HE GREW OLDER Aaron became less interested in the freewheeling “pick up and throw away life.” When he was tempted to hook up with a woman he felt a strong attraction for, he got scared. Recurring dreams about being immortal and watching in horror as loved ones faded away and turned to dust before his eyes ate into him. Even forming macho drinking-buddy relationships made him nervous. Guys about his age would often – “not be around.”

‘WE ALL KNOW WHY WE’RE HERE,’ Damian – Aaron’s only close pal – said out of the blue one afternoon in Tu Cariño. Aaron burst into cynical laughter, secretly recalling Krytl’s words.

‘It’s not funny, Aaron,’ he whispered. ‘We chose this for whatever reason, we’re stuck with it. Quicksand . . . and we’re fucking sinking.’

‘Hey, Man wassup? Cool remember?’

‘You know what this is all for don’t you?’

‘Damian don’t be crazy. What the hell’s with you? You better slow down on the Tequila.’ Aaron whispered.

‘The system,’ he continued, ignoring Aaron, ‘It’s a plan to stop population growth.’

‘Fuck, Man!’

‘Look around no-one’s more than forty here. We’ll all be terminated before then. They’re getting rid of the section most likely to have children. A means to an end. We’ve been sold sand.’

‘Shuddup, Damian. I’ll be over forty in less than eleven years. . . That’s the minimum life age Damian.’

Damian nearly choked with laughter, ‘The average minimum life age. Didn’t you know that?’

‘That doesn’t make sense, you can’t have an average minimum. You have a maximum, a minimum and an average.’

‘It doesn’t have to make sense. Didn’t you read the small type on your intro buch?’

‘Yes it said 11.4 something.’

‘You sure it didn’t say ave.11.4 something?

Aaron wasn’t. He couldn’t remember, but. . . . What the hell? After Damian passed out Aaron dragged him to his car and punched in a “go home” command, then went home in his own vehicle. He called Damian a few days later. There was no call-tone. Damian’s car was never found.

AARON MISSED DAMIAN. It was his IQ level which drew Aaron to him. Conversation came easily with Damian, the only person he’d met prepared to speak about his past. That made it less difficult for Aaron to mention his family. Originally from Germany, Damian had a doctorate in nuclear physics. The only source of work for him was at fission recycling plants. Damian explained to Aaron fission recycling was the life blood of humanity. Re-using the Earth’s lost natural resources ensured a basic living standard for the planet’s heaving population. Everything not used or needed went to centres which broke down matter to atomic level and rebuilt it to molecular forms for reconstitution into anything in short supply. Virtually everything people used had been made from something else hundreds of times before. Damian's job was an operator on gravity-concentrated-force-field (GCFF) units which transported all waste from Garb-ports through tunnel networks to fission plants. When Aaron asked why he gave up such a good job, Damian said guilt, but refused to expand on it.

AFTER THE DISAPPERANCE of his friend, Aaron spent less time around the bars and regular meeting places. The last conversation with Damian about not making forty nagged. It was not very far off. It wasn’t a case of being a recluse, Aaron just spent more time hanging around in his home watching movies or painting, a hobby Damian had encouraged him to take up. The pictures turned out to be a good pick-up line when he felt like some female company. Most of the women he chose were young air-heads to avoid risking more serious liaisons. Life settled into a comfortable routine for Aaron.

********

A RECENT ADVERT GOING AROUND about a new holographic ‘nest’ cinema system had caught his interest, he’d run out of inspiration for his painting. It occurred to him maybe something different in his life might bring on new ideas – anyway it’ll pass the time. The adverts promised a stunning new view of your World. His order was on the way they said. All he had to do was assemble it and re-cyc the packaging. A soft chime told Aaron his order had arrived. His door opened and a delivery drone released a large carton on wheels and took off leaving it sitting on the drive. After pulling it into his living space Aaron wasted no time unpacking setting it up. After a simple task of clipping numbered items together, he powered up the device and settled on his couch with a few more Puff-Bix

BEFORE HE COULD SELECT a movie the device reminded him it would start after the packaging it came in had passed through a Garb-port. In his excitement, Aaron forgot it was obliged to immediately dispose of packaging for any bulky item. Because of its size the carton needed to go through the large Garb-port in his foyer which could open up to two metres. As Aaron presented the big box the port scanned it and opened wide enough for it to go through.

AFTER WATCHING THE GRAVITY FIELD pull the box inside, Aaron turned around intending to go back to his lounge space, but as he tried to walk he felt like he was falling backwards. The harder he tried to move forward the force of the gravity acting on him increased, he was being dragged toward the port. Realising what was happening Aaron screamed out, ‘Damian, you bastard, you knew. . . . Why didn’t you warn me?

As Aaron fell into the port a last thought entered his mind, I didn’t even see a fucking whale!

Photoshopped image from an old photo I took on a mobile phone.