The small town of Dammens lay nestled within the gentle forested slopes of the Roubens river valley. A plethora of farms dotted the community, where people would tend to their animals and grow their own produce and then afterwards sell their vegetables in town. Families were prosperous and the locals had a saying which went, ‘Perfection is happiness, so why wish for anything more.’ Unfortunately in the case of the resident subversive, Joel Armstrong, his saying went, ‘Perfection is slavery, so why not wish for release!’
For many years now, Joel had lived among the alpine style buildings with their wood-carved shutters, whitewashed walls and red cobblestone pavements and quite honestly he was sick to death of it. Nothing ever changed. No festivals were ever held. He always saw the same faces day-in day-out and spent his days working in fields of vegetables. For many months, a group of young people and himself had been plotting to leave behind this boring, pristine cage and go off travelling in search of adventure. As he worked in the glare of the sunshine picking cabbages and runner beans for his father, he awaited the final meeting tonight before they would be free to explore the world for themselves.
That night Joel met his friends David, Rene and Berthold under a full moon behind his barn. They had all the necessary provisions and survival equipment for many weeks hiking, though they did not know where they would be going.
‘Are we ready?’ asked Joel impatiently. Everyone nodded and headed out into the starry night up to the mountain pass above the now quiet town. No one looked back since they knew they would never return to Dammens. Up on the hillside, they set up camp for the night in a shaded clearing.
They awoke the following morning, for the first time able to do as they pleased.
‘Let’s go up that ravine!’ shouted David peering up the tall jagged precipice that towered above their temporary dwelling. The strongest of them and a hard-working sheep farmer, David was sprinting up the rocky ground barely after the others had packed everything up following breakfast. All of them had experienced rock climbing firsthand and found the steep ascent riddled with footholds and ledges. They were soon on top of the ridge after much sweating in the morning sun and were traversing over a rocky plateau flanked by sheer coombes and stunning lake vistas below. Up here, unlike Dammens, nothing stirred or grew. All that could be heard was the whistling of the wind and crunching of rock underfoot. Even that was comforting after the tedious monotony of their former abode.
Later that evening when they were encamped at the foot of the plateau on the other side, Joel said, ‘all my life I have dreamed of this. Everyday my father would have my life planned out for me: farming and selling. Never once did I feel I had a purpose and now I do.’ All the others murmured in agreement. Berthold, who was the son of a grocer said, ‘the world is our playground,’ and with that they tuned in for the night the last embers of the fire fading into the night.
The following morning David’s gruff voice awoke everyone brusquely.
‘Come and look at this, everyone. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen! Come quick!’ he shouted excitedly. All hurriedly dressed, burst out of their tents and charged off after David down the slope. They reached the edge of the hillside and saw before them an enormous savannah stretching out into the distance. A perfect shade of golden brown and dotted with trees and small lakes, the landscape left all mouths agape and eyes fixed with wonder on the vastness below. After a long silence, Joel was the first to speak, ‘freemen, it’s time to explore!’
They packed up, set off and soon arrived on the grassland, walking through a strangely silent domain despite the gnarled crowns of trees and marram grass.
‘Why is it so quiet?’ asked Rene, the concern in his voice replacing the elation he had felt.
‘Couldn’t say for sure, but perhaps the animals here can’t survive in these conditions,’ said David.
‘That means we can’t,’ said Berthold nervously. All eyes turned to Joel who said encouragingly, ‘this cannot last forever. We have supplies for a few more days and our instincts to rely on. Let’s press on.’
So they did until one morning Joel awoke alone under a sparsely clouded azure sky. They had been walking for a week in the savannah and on the second night of encampment Berthold and Rene had left and now so had David. Well, thought Joel, let them go back to their petty, monotonous lifestyles. I don’t need them. I only need my instincts to survive out here.
With that he set out on the long task of crossing this immense plain until the grass and trees started to disappear and the ground became a light, dusty brown. The sky above became a dark and grey, its shade almost blotting out the sun. Then he saw what he never thought he would find: the edge of the world. The ground before him simply vanished into oblivion. As he walked further, suddenly the light faded and darkness surrounded him. For two hours he waited in blackness. Then he saw a speck of light in the murk, growing bigger, filling his vision until it burst through in a cascading mass of electricity. The raw energy entered his body and every nerve tingled until he thought he might explode. Then he blanked out.
His eyes jerked open. Lifting his throbbing head gingerly, he surveyed the scene around him. A metal corridor of flashing lights greeted him, but the silence was here too. Looking on either side of him he saw row upon row of capsules and in those capsules were people. Obese and bonded to the wall, these people had life supports, food tubes, cables and headgear. Two words pounded in his head like a memory he’d been desperately trying to erase: virtual reality. Struggling to untangle himself from the wires and pads, which bound him to his seat he slowly got to his feet and stepped out of the capsule. Pain shot through his fat limbs. How long had it been since he had taken a walk? Too long and now he was going to take one.
He walked sluggishly along past the rows of comatose humans, passing flashing lights and metal corridors until he came to a portal. He pushed the button and entered. He stared out of the glass window overlooking the scene below him. He knew where he was. Safe. Safe from the bleak, grey plain, which stretched out before him devoid of life or landmarks. Safe from radioactive waste and noxious gases that lurked outside possessing the poisoned ground and air that mankind had abandoned. An irresponsible society had been so caught up with technological progress and living in a dream world of self-created leisure that they had forgotten about the world outside. Meanwhile, this had died as a result of the waste and greed that their disregard for life had created.
You can see for miles, but you can’t see anything for miles, as thought Joel bitterly he looked across the sterile, once life-supporting terrain. I know, he thought angrily, I’ll end it all now! He violently ripped a metal pipe from the wall, penetrating the deathly silence and struck the glass until his hands bled. Nothing happened. He sank to his feet and stared disconsolately at the floor of his mausoleum. Then he searched the complex looking for ways out, but there were none. Security codes had sealed the doors shut for the safety of all from the radioactive wasteland outside. Mankind has judged, convicted and imprisoned itself here, thought Joel resignedly.
‘Time to return,’ he murmured to himself as he staggered back to his head cell. Looks like the people of Dammens are right thought Joel as jacked into the headset again, Perfection is happiness so why wish for anything else.
© 1995
