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Grown Alone

a tale from the far future

By BJPPublished 3 years ago 3 min read
1
Grown Alone
Photo by Pablo Stanic on Unsplash

Ken’s mother and father stood at the top of the stairs looking down at him quizzically. Shrouded head-to-toe in a tough, dark, sturdy material, their faces hidden under their bug-like protective masks, they wheezed faintly through the tubes that penetrated deep within. In all his fifteen years, it was the first time he had seen either one on their feet.

Unspeakably ancient, their movement was only accomplished by the exoskeletons that tightly embraced every limb and joint. Ken eyed the places where the steel struts disappeared beneath fabric. Unintentionally he imagined the many places where metal must pierce skin and be fastened to bone. He shook off the thought.

All through his childhood, between the automated lessons with robotic tutors, he had played in his parents’ rooms, beside them while they sat hooked up in their resting chairs. They would stir perhaps half a dozen times per year. Sometimes one or the other would say a few words—drone-like words that haunted more than comforted him—but usually during these stirrings, they would just stare at him quizzically.

He had freely explored the surrounding neighbourhoods, entering any house or garden without obstruction. They were all maintained impeccably. In them, he found only other ancients like his parents sitting hooked up with their tubes and their exoskeletons, communing with the interface. He would go through their houses; no one seemed to mind. Every drawer was filled with treasures. Every cabinet stacked with finest woven fabrics and every pantry stocked with fresh food and drink.

Lately he had wondered how he had come to be conceived. He had seen the interface that they commune with—the robots had begun to introduce him to it. He imagined that in it somewhere, his father had chanced upon some long forgotten submenu of a submenu of a submenu, one labelled “Spawn” and the rest had been taken care of for him by the machines.

Only once he had seen another young person. It happened about six months ago when he had explored all the way to the other side of the city. It was mid-Autumn. After hours and hours of walking, suddenly at the other end of a tree-lined avenue, about 100 metres away, he saw a girl about his age. She had seen him first and was stopped dead. He stopped dead too, and stopped breathing for a good minute to boot. Then it was over. They backed away from each other and Ken found his feet carrying him all the way home. He thought of her often.

Last Tuesday, something new happened. Ken was sitting in his father’s room on the bed, staring hard at the old, old man in his chair. He wanted to shout. He wanted to punch his father right in his bug-like mask of a face. A robot nearby got slightly nervous and edged closer to him. His father stirred and looked quizzically at Ken.

“Son, ”the drone-like voice spoke. After a long silence, the old man turned his head almost imperceptibly in the direction of a low chest of drawers.

Ken noticed something odd about it. One of the panels in the side of the chest was slightly askew, like it didn’t meet up exactly with its legs. He went over and pressed on the panel, and found that it gave way to a secret compartment. Several nearby robots whirred their cooling fans a bit louder as their processors also registered surprise.

He reached in and felt all around. Inside there was a single, small metal object. He pulled it out and into the light. It was a heart shaped locket, made of purest gold. Opening it, he found the faint, almost undetectable remnants of a photograph of a woman. Had this been his mother? In the daylight the photograph faded to nothingness before his eyes.

He looked up at his father. Ken was sure as anything that their eyes were locked, although he couldn’t actually see his father’s eyes behind the mask.

The decision was instantaneous. Ken stood up and looked around the room. Then around his own room, and then around the house. He filled a sack with food from the pantry. There was nothing else he needed.

It was at this point that he noticed his parents at the top of the stairs looking down at him. He thought of the girl on the other side of the city. He thought of the green hills in the distance that he had yearned for. He would find them both.

Sci Fi
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