NaNo Second Week - another section
Later, at home, Sam went to Madeline in the kitchen with a sheaf of papers.
“Old fashioned, aren’t you,” asked Madeline, facing away from Sam and her hands in the sink.
“You should talk,” Sam replied. “There’s a dishwasher, you know.”
Madeline sighed. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. “When it’s just a couple of dishes, I like to clean them up and put them away and be done with it.”
“What’s all that?” Madeline continued.
Sam sharply flicked his papers, making a snapping sound. “I think I’ve got it.”
“What?”
“Why the Tower didn’t give mom the nanites that they are giving to nearly everybody else in this town that are hitting the hospital, either for routine vaccinations or for being sick or in an accident.”
Madeline grabbed a towel, drying her hands while she sat down in a kitchen chair. “What?” she asked again.
Sam took a breath. “The only correlations with early or nearly normal death rates for people are their job or vocation.”
“Maggie is an art teacher. What does that have to do with anything?” Madeline was perplexed.
“Yeah, she is.” referring to his wife’s vocation, Sam threw a little emphasis on the last word. Maggie was finally home after arguing with a half dozen doctors and twice that many nurses, that she had an actual right to leave against medical advice. Sam was exhausted and he wasn’t even sick.
“Everyone who has died, within those parameters, are in the social sciences and/or liberal arts in some way. Most are in teaching or volunteer positions in those fields, if not artists, writers, psychologists, musicians or what not themselves.”
Sam continued. “Maggie’s an art teacher. The current artist’s that are being displayed in our school system are dead or dying. The psychologists and social scientists, some economists, dead or dying.”
“Social sciences? Artists? Authors? What do those fields have to do with anything? Are they threatening the Tower somehow? How could they be? All the physical, hard scientists and students go to the Tower, what kind of competition, or what…” Madeline trailed off, confused.
“I think they are being allowed to die.” answered Sam. “They don’t matter to the Tower. They don’t need, or think they don’t need art, creativity, or people snooping around in their unconsciousness. Hard science, hard facts are it.”
“So,” said Madeline, “they are just allowing the creatives to die out? What about the new teachers, new artists?”
“There are fewer and fewer people going into those fields every year. “ Sam flattened out some papers on the kitchen table.
“See, here’s the occupational outlook hand book data from the last twenty years, just covering the rise and fall of certain key fields. Except, for the last five years, when our government stopped publishing this data.”
He continued. “You can see the rise of the hard sciences, and military, too. The creative fields have not grown, at all. And in the last few years of the data, they are falling. It’s not a statistically significant number, not at that time. But, if we project at the same rate, “here Sam, ‘flipped over another few pages, “ in the last five years, the numbers do turn significant. And just before the numbers show those numbers, it stops being published.”
“You said some economists, too.” reminded Madeline.
“Yeah. The drop isn’t as severe, but these were the people who would be doing projections of the economic status of the country in the years to come. They are the ones who would see something like this and connect dots. Our gross national product is shrinking. The thing is, all the towns by all the Towers in the world are being affected like this. Everything is pouring into the Towers, and for what?”
Sam shoved at the papers, causing most to fall to the floor. “Damn it. They are changing the face of humanity, of what it means to be human. Hard sciences are being nurtured, soft sciences and creativity is being passive- aggressively suppressed. And why? What are they doing?” He sat, defeated, onto one of the kitchen chairs.
Madeline reached out a hand to one of Sam’s. “Wow. Just. Wow. I didn’t even think of this, couldn’t think of this. Maggie is an art teacher! Just an art teacher for children. What threat is that?”
“Apparently a big enough threat not to encourage progress in the arts. It’s better to let it fade away.”
“But, creativity! Don’t they understand that even the hard sciences need the leap of intuition to make those discoveries that bring them to the conclusions of what they need for their research?”
“Apparently, they only want creativity that they can control” Sam replied.
=================
Thomas came to the Turner house that night. Madeline had already been there all day. Miriam had slept with her mother for the first time since she was tiny. Maggie insisted. Sam was glued to the computer, refining his research and Amanda was helping to collate the information. Everybody had their job, even Edwin back at his lab in the Tower.
“Edwin, come and see your sister,” Thomas said to the phone screen. More subterfuge. As much as it would help the cause for Edwin to stay put, it would be safer for him to do the re-programming of Maggie’s nanites instead of Thomas. So, they decided to appear to talk him into it. Thomas and Edwin hoped that would allay any suspicion.
“She was here. Now she is gone. So… that’s it.” Edwin replied. He looked sad. Thomas knew that wasn’t an act, at least. Everything that Edwin had been working for and towards was now known as a far more reaching policy on the part of the wizards of the Tower.
To collect knowledge as power had never before in the history of the world has been so vital and so possible. They were seeking the complete control of matter and the long life to enjoy it. Even at the cost of the human spirit and destroying the world, one plant at a time.
“Edwin,” said Thomas, shaking his head. “That was Maggie’s decision. And… and who knows? Maybe the time in the hospital did help, some.” They had to lay the ground work for the fact that Maggie would be surviving instead of dying. Although that would be a strange, hard sell, but stranger things have happened. Miracles do still happen, even if they defy medical science. They hoped that the Tower wouldn’t be that interested in one single children’s art teacher, but if they attract their attention with all the contact with Tower employees, as in, Maggie’s brother’s Thomas and Edwin, and Thomas’ girlfriend Madeline, that game would be over.
Edwin rubbed his hands over his unshaven face. He knew what Thomas was doing. The problem was, in reality, if nothing nefarious was going on, Thomas would still have to try this hard to get Edwin out of the lab, out of the ivory, vaulted Tower, to go to his sister’s side. That acting was easy. It was truth.
“Yeah, yeah, sure, “he then said to Thomas.
Thomas took a deep breath. This part wouldn’t be acting. This was truth, too.
“Edwin, I, I also want you to met your new sister.” Thomas looked into Edwin’s eyes for a reaction. He got confusion.
“Huh, what? Huh?” Edwin blinked at his brother.
“I’m asking Madeline to marry me.”
“What?” Edwin decided to try logic. “Uh, I’ve met her. Uh, you know? She was my lab assistant? Do you remember?”
Thomas laughed a real laugh that he had not had for a while. “Yes, yes, I know, I know. I mean, met her as your sister.”
“You seriously think I can deal with another sister?” incredulous, Edwin shook his head. “Right, right. Sorry. Wasn’t thinking. Uh, so, wow. That’s… cool.” Edwin didn’t know what to say. He knew that people got married his sister certainly did. It just wasn’t a thought that occurred to him often. The last time he thought about marriage was, well, was with Jory. And that didn’t work. At least, Edwin didn’t let it work, didn’t let it go that far.
He shook his head to clear himself of that train of though. He smiled. “Sorry, that’s great. That is great. I know that you love her and that she loves you.” He wasn’t all dense, just mostly.
Thomas was beaming now, ear to ear. “You know that? How do you know that? Did she say that? Of course she said that. She loves me,” he realized he was babbling. He also realized his family did that a lot. Babble, that is.
Edwin laughed at his brother. In the middle of a half considered, ill thought, partially crazy subterfuge of finding out of the extent of the Tower’s plans, Thomas was getting married. Heh. What a Calledon thing to do. And Turner thing, as well, he thought, considering his niece. Nieces. Good grief. Even Jory’s Amanda was a niece. He didn’t know what Jory was to him. But it was obvious that his family was much larger than it was twenty years ago.
Thomas took a breath. “You need to come home, Edwin.
Edwin looked into Thomas’ face. He hoped that this was enough acting for this.
“Okay. Okay Thomas. Tomorrow. I promise, “he said.
Thomas gave a small smile. “Good. Good.”
“Old fashioned, aren’t you,” asked Madeline, facing away from Sam and her hands in the sink.
“You should talk,” Sam replied. “There’s a dishwasher, you know.”
Madeline sighed. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. “When it’s just a couple of dishes, I like to clean them up and put them away and be done with it.”
“What’s all that?” Madeline continued.
Sam sharply flicked his papers, making a snapping sound. “I think I’ve got it.”
“What?”
“Why the Tower didn’t give mom the nanites that they are giving to nearly everybody else in this town that are hitting the hospital, either for routine vaccinations or for being sick or in an accident.”
Madeline grabbed a towel, drying her hands while she sat down in a kitchen chair. “What?” she asked again.
Sam took a breath. “The only correlations with early or nearly normal death rates for people are their job or vocation.”
“Maggie is an art teacher. What does that have to do with anything?” Madeline was perplexed.
“Yeah, she is.” referring to his wife’s vocation, Sam threw a little emphasis on the last word. Maggie was finally home after arguing with a half dozen doctors and twice that many nurses, that she had an actual right to leave against medical advice. Sam was exhausted and he wasn’t even sick.
“Everyone who has died, within those parameters, are in the social sciences and/or liberal arts in some way. Most are in teaching or volunteer positions in those fields, if not artists, writers, psychologists, musicians or what not themselves.”
Sam continued. “Maggie’s an art teacher. The current artist’s that are being displayed in our school system are dead or dying. The psychologists and social scientists, some economists, dead or dying.”
“Social sciences? Artists? Authors? What do those fields have to do with anything? Are they threatening the Tower somehow? How could they be? All the physical, hard scientists and students go to the Tower, what kind of competition, or what…” Madeline trailed off, confused.
“I think they are being allowed to die.” answered Sam. “They don’t matter to the Tower. They don’t need, or think they don’t need art, creativity, or people snooping around in their unconsciousness. Hard science, hard facts are it.”
“So,” said Madeline, “they are just allowing the creatives to die out? What about the new teachers, new artists?”
“There are fewer and fewer people going into those fields every year. “ Sam flattened out some papers on the kitchen table.
“See, here’s the occupational outlook hand book data from the last twenty years, just covering the rise and fall of certain key fields. Except, for the last five years, when our government stopped publishing this data.”
He continued. “You can see the rise of the hard sciences, and military, too. The creative fields have not grown, at all. And in the last few years of the data, they are falling. It’s not a statistically significant number, not at that time. But, if we project at the same rate, “here Sam, ‘flipped over another few pages, “ in the last five years, the numbers do turn significant. And just before the numbers show those numbers, it stops being published.”
“You said some economists, too.” reminded Madeline.
“Yeah. The drop isn’t as severe, but these were the people who would be doing projections of the economic status of the country in the years to come. They are the ones who would see something like this and connect dots. Our gross national product is shrinking. The thing is, all the towns by all the Towers in the world are being affected like this. Everything is pouring into the Towers, and for what?”
Sam shoved at the papers, causing most to fall to the floor. “Damn it. They are changing the face of humanity, of what it means to be human. Hard sciences are being nurtured, soft sciences and creativity is being passive- aggressively suppressed. And why? What are they doing?” He sat, defeated, onto one of the kitchen chairs.
Madeline reached out a hand to one of Sam’s. “Wow. Just. Wow. I didn’t even think of this, couldn’t think of this. Maggie is an art teacher! Just an art teacher for children. What threat is that?”
“Apparently a big enough threat not to encourage progress in the arts. It’s better to let it fade away.”
“But, creativity! Don’t they understand that even the hard sciences need the leap of intuition to make those discoveries that bring them to the conclusions of what they need for their research?”
“Apparently, they only want creativity that they can control” Sam replied.
=================
Thomas came to the Turner house that night. Madeline had already been there all day. Miriam had slept with her mother for the first time since she was tiny. Maggie insisted. Sam was glued to the computer, refining his research and Amanda was helping to collate the information. Everybody had their job, even Edwin back at his lab in the Tower.
“Edwin, come and see your sister,” Thomas said to the phone screen. More subterfuge. As much as it would help the cause for Edwin to stay put, it would be safer for him to do the re-programming of Maggie’s nanites instead of Thomas. So, they decided to appear to talk him into it. Thomas and Edwin hoped that would allay any suspicion.
“She was here. Now she is gone. So… that’s it.” Edwin replied. He looked sad. Thomas knew that wasn’t an act, at least. Everything that Edwin had been working for and towards was now known as a far more reaching policy on the part of the wizards of the Tower.
To collect knowledge as power had never before in the history of the world has been so vital and so possible. They were seeking the complete control of matter and the long life to enjoy it. Even at the cost of the human spirit and destroying the world, one plant at a time.
“Edwin,” said Thomas, shaking his head. “That was Maggie’s decision. And… and who knows? Maybe the time in the hospital did help, some.” They had to lay the ground work for the fact that Maggie would be surviving instead of dying. Although that would be a strange, hard sell, but stranger things have happened. Miracles do still happen, even if they defy medical science. They hoped that the Tower wouldn’t be that interested in one single children’s art teacher, but if they attract their attention with all the contact with Tower employees, as in, Maggie’s brother’s Thomas and Edwin, and Thomas’ girlfriend Madeline, that game would be over.
Edwin rubbed his hands over his unshaven face. He knew what Thomas was doing. The problem was, in reality, if nothing nefarious was going on, Thomas would still have to try this hard to get Edwin out of the lab, out of the ivory, vaulted Tower, to go to his sister’s side. That acting was easy. It was truth.
“Yeah, yeah, sure, “he then said to Thomas.
Thomas took a deep breath. This part wouldn’t be acting. This was truth, too.
“Edwin, I, I also want you to met your new sister.” Thomas looked into Edwin’s eyes for a reaction. He got confusion.
“Huh, what? Huh?” Edwin blinked at his brother.
“I’m asking Madeline to marry me.”
“What?” Edwin decided to try logic. “Uh, I’ve met her. Uh, you know? She was my lab assistant? Do you remember?”
Thomas laughed a real laugh that he had not had for a while. “Yes, yes, I know, I know. I mean, met her as your sister.”
“You seriously think I can deal with another sister?” incredulous, Edwin shook his head. “Right, right. Sorry. Wasn’t thinking. Uh, so, wow. That’s… cool.” Edwin didn’t know what to say. He knew that people got married his sister certainly did. It just wasn’t a thought that occurred to him often. The last time he thought about marriage was, well, was with Jory. And that didn’t work. At least, Edwin didn’t let it work, didn’t let it go that far.
He shook his head to clear himself of that train of though. He smiled. “Sorry, that’s great. That is great. I know that you love her and that she loves you.” He wasn’t all dense, just mostly.
Thomas was beaming now, ear to ear. “You know that? How do you know that? Did she say that? Of course she said that. She loves me,” he realized he was babbling. He also realized his family did that a lot. Babble, that is.
Edwin laughed at his brother. In the middle of a half considered, ill thought, partially crazy subterfuge of finding out of the extent of the Tower’s plans, Thomas was getting married. Heh. What a Calledon thing to do. And Turner thing, as well, he thought, considering his niece. Nieces. Good grief. Even Jory’s Amanda was a niece. He didn’t know what Jory was to him. But it was obvious that his family was much larger than it was twenty years ago.
Thomas took a breath. “You need to come home, Edwin.
Edwin looked into Thomas’ face. He hoped that this was enough acting for this.
“Okay. Okay Thomas. Tomorrow. I promise, “he said.
Thomas gave a small smile. “Good. Good.”