Copyright © 2013 Elder Adok. First in the Buffalo Future series. First published in Great Britain in April 2013 by Hiss Farm Concepts www.hissfarmconcepts.co.uk office@hissfarmconcepts.co.uk Second edition September 2013. This blog chapter edition September 2014. The moral right of Elder Adok to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act of 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.
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| Io moon by NASA |
Nature could not have made her more perfect. As Io plunged naked into the cool water it was as if innocence had broken through a shimmering mirror. Her only blemish was the pic mark made at birth, yet personal identity chips were far more convenient than those old fashioned smart cards and funny bits of paper. She was a child of her age and had 110 years to live anywhere in the world.
Io relished this freedom, this adventure. Fair hair at birth colluded with a trend of the day so that her parents named her Io after a bright moon circulating around Jupiter. The scene looked innocent too, for the pool was illuminated by tropical moonlight. It was almost as if Io the planet caressed Io the damsel. But as she swam she was reflecting. Aged twenty five, this was no midlife crisis, rather it was a rising unease with her amazing beaching skills. Unease had been detected and Io was being watched.
Somehow the space and beauty of the tropics spoke to the very soul of this comely maiden. Io had poise. Her body was pleasingly balanced, perfectly proportioned. If she were speaking to the loins of a male she could yield immense power. As George watched her gracefully emerge from the pool he found reason faltered under the bidding of such an apparition. Yet George had to monitor Io not get involved with her. Objectivity was the first call in surveillance. He had state of the art devices at his disposal so that Io would be unaware of his sight and hearing. She was however no fool, and knew the power of her beauty. She knew too that she was being observed. Mentally she had detected George some time ago even though they had never met. She was not frightened; in fact he might be able to quell her unease. How did she know it was a man who watched?
The Inflow complex was by design both security conscious and breathtaking. It was awesome in its domination of the Fens and could be seen from fifty miles away. Rarely had an information organism centred on silicon technology blended so well with the natural world based on the carbon chain. It was as if the Almighty could have breathed life as easily into silicon as into carbon. Design and beauty teased each other. Inside this intimacy was the total control of all northern European information flows. Information is power. From a distance the edifice looked rather like a gigantic earthbound jellyfish. Its huge dome dominated the Fenland skyline. Trinity College, Cambridge had founded a science park in the 1970s and through such firms as Acorn and ARM the 'Silicon Fens' had been born. With so much local expertise it was an ideal place to build Inflow.
The structure was surrounded by a moat and rose 80 stories high. The vast roof created its own microclimate which kept icy winds or harsh sun at bay. Fronds hung down from its edge acting like a curtain which came alive in the wind. These fronds were also sophisticated defence against rogue aircraft flying into the central column as they had done into the Twin Towers in New York at the turn of the century. The dome's surface concealed a myriad of aerials pointing to information sources. It glowed in colours to match and contrast with weather conditions; as the sun set over Ely Cathedral so Inflow picked up golds and pinks but added green and blue tints.
The locals called it the Fish. It had an underground security complex which few understood. Inflow members hardly noticed that their subconscious behaviour was observed. Privacy was a thing of the past. Each person's habits were known and constantly monitored. If anyone was embarrassed or uneasy security knew.
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| George cross |
She kept quite still, thinking. The moon smiled down. The night sounds rose in volume as she let her mind run free. For some time this gentle girl had collected big questions which simmered in a pot at the back of her mind. Now was the moment she had prepared. George thought she must be into meditation. He studied her face through night sights. It was unbearably hot in his protective suit, so quietly he removed headgear and gloves. The mosquitoes bit his face and hands. He hated insects.
Arthor had married Clairu at thirty. They were delighted when a year later their firstborn arrived. She had been delivered in the old-fashioned natural way. The birth had been painful but straightforward. The little babe's head was squashed out of shape but after a day or so recovered and seemed almost perfectly round. They had tried out various names but somehow these didn't suit their little daughter. Neither parent liked the idea of modifying name endings as in Arthor for Arthur or Clairu for Claire, neither did they want a common Christian name for her. In the end Io suited her round head and soft complexion. It also followed a convention of naming offspring after celestial bodies.
Proud parents worshipped their little daughter. Io grew strong and well. They longed for a companion sibling yet were unable to bring to birth another child. How could it be that their only child was so healthy and had been so easily conceived? Clairu had several miscarriages trying for another yet the option of buying a baby never crossed their minds. What Nature had decided was to be honoured, even though it cost dear in heartache. They relished nurturing Io in the Dorset countryside; she developed a love for the sea, both walking its cliffs and swimming in it. Respect for the natural became essential in her heart and mind. As she grew she was invited to allow 'question' and 'acceptance' to be equal partners in her life.
In the tropical moonlight she accepted that there was no longer such a thing as privacy. Had civilization come full circle? In warm climates clothes were unnecessary yet there was no embarrassment. Now that sophisticated surveillance techniques and digitized recognition software had taken away privacy, need there be any embarrassment? Her questions could have taken her to a therapist but Io inherently mistrusted professional advisers unless they were catalysts who inspired rather than shrinks who interrogated. Instead her questions took her to the tropics, to lands at ease with nature and unspoiled by so-called civilization. She had to get away from tourists, business, and busyness.
Her paternal great grandmother, Louise Smith had grown up in the tropics. Greatma had often spoken of the wild expanse of space getting into her blood. Io Smith inherited genetically and through nurture from Louise. That inheritance served her well. The first time she had been to the tropics was via a mission exchange. She was only fourteen but the friendships made were to stand the test of time. Io had become part of this wider 'family' and yearned for the spaces that could bring balm to her soul. Somehow the busyness at the Fish seemed like blowing in the wind. The real world was under this moonlight. Io was at peace; she stretched herself, climbed down from the rock to her tent and was soon fast asleep. George was now even more fascinated by her. He began to scratch the mosquito bites.
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