Cybernetic Dreams
By
Andrew Bruce Fisk (September 2012)
Adam woke from the dream. His body was wet with moisture. He drew swift breaths, eager to banish the panic that had gripped him during his last work session. With time he stilled. Savouring the temporary relief offered to him by the supervisors. How long had it been since the last time? The dreams beckoned to him. Their world was safe, full of certainty. He wondered about the outside. The place he could not go. A soft tone sounded in his ears. The sleep inducers were becoming active once more.
Then he faded.
The city was grey today. He accessed his activity schedule and nominated tasks for completion. Distant factories stirred, their ceaseless operations drifting along new patterns, driven by the force of his will. Transport systems bombarded him with data, pleading for attention. He granted their requests. Routing travelers and freight in endless transitions. Point by point the economic network of the Dreamnet flashed through his focus point. He grew tired, but the system compensated reallocating resources to the myriad others who slept.
A system call from an offworld site interrupted his rest. He activated resource management routines and a kaleidoscope of financial transactions threatening to overwhelm his defences. He coped. He had been designed to manage these kinds of loads. This was his world. The Dreamnet. The beating heart of humanity. There was no other reality
He woke in the evening. The sleep inducers dormant. These brief interludes seemed to be growing fewer in number. It did not matter. Society demanded sacrifices from its members. The good of others was paramount. Swiftly he prepared to fade.
And then he thought of her.
An image from another world. Blond hair, a soft voice. A name. What was the name?
The Dreamnet reasserted control. Normality resumed. The dangers and trials of a hungry civilisation called to him. He obeyed the commands and submitted himself to their service. Weather systems tracked their way across vast continents, colonies bleated distress and joy to the homeland in equal measure. All these required totally devotion from the sleeper.
He could not remember her name.
The warning reached him from deep within the security protocol stack of the Centre. Reality was threatened. The system reacted drawing previously redundant minds into operation. Stability was restored.
Kira.
He awoke.
This time it was different. Something had altered the delicate interior equilibrium of his cot. He blinked and opened his eyes.
Her name was Kira.
His body spasmed. Salt entered his mouth. Something stopped him from breathing. The paralysis gripping him for precious moments and then eased. He coughed.
The inducers toned softly.
The onset of the Fade took hold. He returned to the Dreamnet. The chaos in his mind subsided. Routine reestablished.
She found him in the capital complex. Her voice intruded, breaking the lock on his mind. She said one thing. A promise of revolution. A pledge that would endure. Her name was Kira and then, she was gone. The encounter swept out of his mind.
He woke once more in a different place. The safe sterile smell of the cot no longer filled his nostrils. A light breeze touched him. He looked up and for the first time saw what he knew must be the sun. Water was running free. The light notes of its flow amongst the stone beds of a stream echoed in his ears.
Was this freedom?
He saw her approach from the clearings edge. She wore a robe full of green and brown shades. Her eyes smiled at him. He remembered her words. He would be released. He could return home and the Dreamnet would be banished from his life forever.
And then he faded.
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