Dhungwana 2117: A captivating sci-fi novel: The Dhungwana Chronicles (2117-3451) Part 1 (7 page)

Two months later, Ian and Dayla discussed their therapy over a cocktail at Ian’s home before having dinner.

“Ian, we're fine... Every once in a while we still feel
déjà vu
, but it’s random and not intrusive. I’d like to go to the follow-up appointment in a month and ask if I can discontinue the therapy” Dayla said.

“Dayla, Bickler will tell us what is best, don’t you agree? Fortunately, the pandemic influenza has spared us this year. We were really lucky considering it could have complicated our clinical condition and forced us to stay in bed for a long time, or even worse... many people have been absent from work for quite a long time.”

“Yes, on average a month. In BlueGray they have replaced people absent on sick leave with robots... and, believe me, with a few exceptions, the robots were more efficient than humans! If I were off sick, I'd be careful: the corporation is monitoring productivity. If these robots are more efficient, people will have to deal with new benchmarks. No one can drag their feet anymore! Now the robots are able to support humans in all their activities. The one they have given me, after Alyssa went sick, was perfectly programmed to carry out the main functions and activities I needed. For the moment it seems that they can’t learn or experience emotions, but sooner or later... ” Dayla replied.

“I agree with you, but I have to say that I didn’t note much difference. In the laboratory, researchers are more motivated and, I must say, there are only a few who drag their feet. Among other complications, excluding junior posts, the robots would have to be programmed by the same researchers they replace to be efficient... and so by us. Those who caught flu were not replaced.

“I wonder if you've experienced the same feeling: my colleagues, after returning from sick leave, seem to me, not just better, but different: they have no hunger, no thirst, but suffer from stress and seem nervous. Yesterday I was with a colleague of mine, a biologist who was heavily affected by the flu… well, can you believe that he had a different smell?”

“I noticed that, too! My intern Alyssa was absent for three weeks, now she’s been back for four days but she’s nervous, hyperactive, skips lunch and has a strange smell... not an unpleasant one... it's just strange. Do you believe flu can affect the metabolism? Many of our friends who have been ill have the same behavior and that strange smell” Dayla replied.

“Certainly, flu could affect the thyroid and many metabolic processes but, since there are no public warnings from the Ministry of Health, it is probably a temporary situation. No reports have been posted about it. As Commodore, even if I’m under suspension for the moment, I receive daily updates” Ian replied.

“Tonight let’s have dinner earlier than usual” Dayla continued: “I have to finish a presentation to shareholders regarding BlueGray’s new policies concerning new trends in the distribution of foodstuffs. Looking at the data, you can see why there has been a drastic fall in food outlets. The demand for food in the last three years has collapsed; although the trend began about six years ago, I haven’t found any factors to justify this development. Production throughout Dhungwana is planned to support the spread of population, while social welfare helps the poor. What I found very interesting, however, is that agricultural producers, also supported by BlueGray Corporation, have dramatically decreased intensive farming, focusing instead on quality, purity and the organoleptic quality of produce, without raising prices. In Dhungwana, in fact, people are eating less but better quality food, food that is much less polluted by chemicals… which is comforting.”

“Very interesting, it means that the work of our researchers is beginning to bear fruit. Mmmm... here's dinner!” Ian said, watching as the hovertray carefully delivered steaming dishes to the dining room table.

“But what does it mean? How is it not working?” said Dayla upset. It was 10.30 pm and she was at Ian’s home: “We were going to… How boring… What should I do?”

“I’ll call the Health Tutor immediately, this could be dangerous. I'll talk to him” said Ian as he put on his boxer shorts and pants: “Of course, it couldn’t be timelier... I liked your hands... ”

Dayla wristsynk was signaling a bad patch; she had installed it two hours earlier, and the alert had just arrived.

Ian immediately called Dayla’s Health Tutor; the Tutor calmed him down and explained that the report indicated error number 406, the patch wasn’t releasing the drug because it was a defective product.

“Dayla, it’s ok.” Ian said as soon as he hung up: “Tomorrow morning you have to go to the hospital and get your patch replaced.”

“A bit inconvenient... But what was that noise?!! ... it sounded like a meow... Did you hear that, Ian?”

“What should I have heard?” he asked.

Dayla walked to the wall and listened.

“Ah ...that’s not a cat crying... On the contrary, it sounds like two people enjoying themselves!”

“What are you doing, Dayla… eavesdropping? Besides, I can’t hear anything... ”

Dayla pulled away from the wall and, with a sullen face, sat on the couch in the dining room.

“How can you not hear anything, Ian? They are getting pretty wild!”

Ian joined her after a moment: “If I press my ear to the wall, I hear something… just a little, otherwise not at all” answered Ian.

“I don’t understand... what the hell is happening today?” Dayla got up in a fury and went into Ian’s bedroom.

After a few minutes, as she didn’t return, Ian followed her and found Dayla with her right ear glued to the wall.

“May I ask what's the matter?” he said.

“But what do they put in the water? Everyone is fucking here... And if you remember, we were just about to start when that stupid device stopped us!”

“Stop it, Dayla. I think the lack of medication is giving you hallucinations... ”

“Come here and listen... if you haven’t become deaf!” she answered annoyed, then, seeing the expression of annoyance on Ian’s face, said: “Please... ”

Ian put his ear to the wall and was surprised by what he heard.

“It's true... but I can hardly hear it... What the hell is happening to me?”

“Come with me, Ian. I want to check something” Dayla said, taking his hand and opening the safety systems to the corridor.

“You don’t want... ”

“Yes” she answered promptly “I'm sure that all the others are doing the same thing at the same time.”

“Stop it, it’s
déjà vu
, it’s the paramnesia... it is not real; it's a hallucination.” But Ian wasn’t able to stop her, and found himself on the landing.

“Ian, my goodness... even them… Listen, I know you don’t hear them but... ”

Ian put his ear to the door and was puzzled; albeit only just, but he could hear someone actually having sex on the other side of the door.

After half an hour Dayla sat down on the stairs beside him, exhausted.

“Thirty floors, we went down thirty floors and in most of the apartments, at the same time, everyone was having sex... Incredible!”

“Coincidence... ” Ian said: “and then not in all the apartments.”

“Do you want to bet that where there was silence they had children, or guests, and they didn’t want to disturb them? It’s easily ascertained, the family unit is in the public domain... ”

“Dayla, that's enough. Let's go back to the flat, I don’t care about this.” said Ian, taking her by the arm.

“It’s not enough at all! Ian... The therapy is making you deaf... and in addition everyone is acting strangely... and you don’t care about that?”

“No, not at all” said Ian tersely: “and tomorrow you go to hospital first thing!”

Dayla gave up and went back to the apartment forgetting about the research she had planned on doing. It was now passed 1.00 am, so she got ready for bed and, without saying a word to Ian, laid on the bed, falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

At 9.00 am Dayla was staring into a specialized robotics shop window. She studied the different models and then entered in the shop.

She had chosen not to buy a micro drone through her housenet to avoid leaving traces of the transaction and, since she had never owned a drone, she decided it was time to buy one. In fact, it would help her given the complex situation in which she found herself.

“Good morning, I’d like to see the fly n.7, thanks” she told to the shop assistant.

The boy took the tiny drone and put it on the counter along with its remote control.

The fly was life-size, had a camera and a chip where images and sounds were recorded. It looked like a real insect.

“Can I pay cash?” Dayla asked shyly, pretending to search through her wallet. “I forgot the transaction identifier.”

“Ma'am, I'm sorry... it’s above the allowed amount... ”

Dayla looked him in the eye and said: “My husband will be very disappointed... I promised it to him for his birthday... and I can’t go back home, I have to go to work.”

The boy hesitated, and then went into the back room, where Dayla heard him speaking to another man. The two men then both appeared at the counter.

“Madam” said the older guy, who had to be the owner “I have to record the sale and unfortunately for this sum I cannot accept cash.”

Dayla took the hint and, looking around and seeing no other customers, she replied with a confident tone: “I’d like that drone, I don’t need a warranty. Perhaps this drone is broken... it fell from the top shelf of that cabinet, right?”

The owner thought it over a moment.

“You’re right, it's definitely broken... yep... it’s damaged beyond repair... Damn it, I am going to order a new one indicating that this item was thrown away... in fact, I just lost a sale.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you” answered Dayla, putting the cash on the counter, pocketing the drone and immediately leaving the store.

The owner put the money straight into his pocket and, with a shake of the head and a smile, he disappeared into the back room.

An hour later Dayla was in the hospital, standing in front of a doctor at Dispensary 27. She was out of breath as she spoke: “Good morning, I am Dayla Erle. I came to pick up a pack of patches to replace a defective lot.”

“Hello, madam, we were not expecting you. Let me check the system... ” The doctor seemed nervous and absent minded, not at all sympathetic.

“My Health Tutor told me to come here... ” Dayla explained, kindly.

“Even if you were the President of Dhungwana, you still have to wait for the results of the check” he said, rudely.

Dayla, who wasn’t the type to be intimidated, replied bluntly: “I only wanted to point out that since the faulty patch was issued by this hospital, and my Health Tutor told me to come this morning, it seems strange that I wasn’t expected. That's all.”

The man looked at her with annoyance, then continued his search and finally said: “No way, you’re not on the waiting list... I mean your customized patches are not yet ready... But it seems that all, and I mean all, drugs are out of stock... what is happening to the system? I’ll go and check with the researchers in production. I’ll just be a few minutes, wait here and we will soon clear this up. I can’t understand what’s going on.” The doctor immediately left the room, grumbling as he went.

Dayla quickly realized she was alone, and without wasting any time, she used her new microdrone to photograph the screen system and the names and addresses of the patients listed there, using the remote control she held in her jacket pocket. The drone landed on the screen, scrolling down the page and recording everything.

The doctor came back to his desk after ten minutes and Dayla had had plenty of time to take the pictures and now the tiny fly hid in her hair over her shoulders.

“We cannot do anything this morning. Your patches will be ready in two days; you’ll have to come back the day after tomorrow at 8 am. We had a production delay due to a technical fault that has now been resolved. Have a nice day!”

Dayla said goodbye to the strange doctor, left the hospital even more puzzled, and walked lost in thought towards BlueGray Corporation.

“Why don’t you want to make love to me tonight, Ian?” asked Dayla at 10.30 pm. They had met at his house and had already had dinner.

“I’m not in mood, that's all. So… you’ll have to go without treatment tomorrow, too.”

“Yes, but I'm fine… really… ” answered Dayla, without telling him anything about the drone and the list that she had photographed secretly.

In fact, before meeting him, Dayla had gone home, downloaded the list onto a pendrive and had examined it. She was astonished: the list contained the names of 2,352 people from District 604, including their full personal details, people who were all being treated with the same therapy as her and had been diagnosed with paramnesia. The list contained no indication of personalized treatments and no mention of the active ingredients administered.

Dayla got up from the couch to fetch a glass of water and, passing near the wall, leaned close to listen: “Everything is quiet tonight... what do you bet that it is quiet all over the building?” she remarked provocatively to Ian and, having drunk her water, she went outside onto the landing.

Ian, at the end of his tether, caught up with her when she was already two floors below and had eavesdropped on all the apartments.

“That’s enough, Dayla. Stop it! Let’s go back!”

“Can’t you hear? The silence... no one is making love tonight... Come with me, we’ll just go down one more floor... and then I’ll stop.”

Ian went with Dayla simply to prevent her from taking any dangerous initiatives, although he had to admit there were no groans or meows coming from the apartments. Finally, he brought her back home.

“I really hope the day after tomorrow comes soon ... I’m exhausted, Dayla. If you don’t stop this, I’ll call Bickler and we will have you hospitalized!” he said, making her sit down on the couch.

“Ian, I'm fine! At last the patch isn’t clouding my mind... There is no paramnesia! There really are thousands of people who are repeating the same daily routines and conversations, and they do it all simultaneously. It is not
déjà vu
... they are events, actions that are slavishly repeated and that are obviously programmed... It is you who are sick because of the damned patch!” Dayla jumped up, picked up her bag, and continued angrily: “I thought you trusted me! I thought I came before everyone else... I was wrong. Why are you doing this to me, Ian? I’m going home... ” Then, with tears in her eyes, she left his apartment.

Ian not only didn’t answer, but quietly watched the movie he had chosen before dinner, puffing visibly.