Light Giver

The magistrate stood off to one side as the woman was guided in. She was a thin thing; were she a little bit younger she would be called gangly. Though she was well groomed now the magistrate could see the signs that this was not the case until recently. Every few minutes the woman ran a hand through her hair with a look of awe on her face.

There was no trace of the celebration she had been part of for the past month, since her selection. All of the paint had been washed off. She stood fresh faced and prepared to face The Procedure.

The Procedure had been around for several centuries. In the late 21st century the fuel crisis reached its peak. War was imminent on all sides. Then a brilliant scientist had made a discovery based on a popular movie of the time, the title of which has been long lost.

It was possible, the scientist found, to harvest the excess electricity produced between the neurons of the human brain. One human, when properly set up, could produce enough electricity to power almost 100 square miles of city. In places that are not as densely populated one person could power almost double that.

This same scientist, fearful of the abuse in that long-lost entertainment highlighted, designed a fail-safe into his system. The stress hormones from unwilling subjects will shut the system, now named The Procedure. Thus, volunteers were found.

It takes 25 people to run a moderate sized city, though most cities can run on as few as 20. The Procedure will extend their lives to 150 years before they will burn out. The creators of the system staggered the introduction of the procedure so that no more than two people were being replaced at any given time.

There was a reward for the great sacrifice of the volunteers, known to all as Light Givers. Their family and direct line would be taken care of. They would have food and shelter among the best. Some families, who enjoyed this perk, even raised a child to becoming a Light Giver. In some cities there was a limit on how many Light Givers that could come from one line.

The magistrate’s home had taken this one step farther. No Light Giver could come from a family that had lived in the homes set aside by the Light Giver. This was to ensure that an oligarchy of wealthy residents did not emerge from the volunteers.

There were rumors that The Process was considered cruel. It was rumored that some small places even refused to use The Process based on the potential cruelty of a human becoming a battery. The Magistrate did not understand why; the Light Givers were afforded the very best virtual reality to keep their minds active.

The new Light Giver’s attendants helped her into the cradle that would be hers. It was a marvel of engineering. Designed solely to keep a Light Giver comfortable for the rest of their lives.

In that instant tendrils made of light and Nano-bots descended to frame her face. These tendrils would serve two purposes. The first would be to collect the power her mind would generate. The second was to connect her to the virtual reality. As soon the ceremony ended the tendrils would enter the Light Givers brain and become solid, locking her in for the rest of her long life.

“Your great sacrifice with will be remembered” The magistrate intoned formally, beginning the ceremony. These were the words given to the very first Light Givers, among the last they would hear in this world. The tendrils destroyed any connection to the outside world.

“And my children?” She whispered back. The Light Giver had been well prepped on the ceremony and knew her lines.

“Your entire line shall be honored. They shall want for nothing as long as you last.”

Her eyes closed in relief and her smile was gentle. “Then I will be proud to serve as their light.”

“As you now give life and light to our city so shall you now be known as Light Giver. Your bonds to your old names are broken and forgotten. You have accepted a mantle that is heavy and burden that is great. For this you have all the thanks that can be offered. Forever more you will be associated with selfless giving as all Light Givers are. Are you ready to begin?”

This was the last chance for a Light Giver to back away. In the 1500 years that The Process has been used on a handful had ever backed away. Still the Magistrate made sure that the option remained.

Despite the rumors he did not want anyone with any kind of doubts. This was not enslaving someone to the city. This was a beautiful voluntary process.

The Light Giver did not disappoint. She deliberately relaxed into the cradle. “I have no regrets.”

The ceremony complete the Magistrate stepped back. In deference to the Light Giver he remained, though he could sense the others leaving. It was a brutal thing, this part of The Process. Not everyone could stomach it, and the magistrate always made note of anyone who watched a little too eagerly.

The tips of the light tendrils seemed to caress her face finding the points for the best entry. The swift as light the tendrils pierced the Light Givers face. Impressively the Light Giver remained almost entirely silent during what has to be one of the most painful experiences of any life.

It had been the Magistrate’s hard work that had ensured that each volunteer saw those few transition moments unvarnished. In a few hours the blood would be carefully wiped from the Light Giver. Attendants would ensure that no infection could set in. Within a few months it would look as if the glowing lines were growing from the Light Giver.

In two years, her family would be able to visit for the first and only time. At that point it would appear as if the machine had always been part of her. After that last visit the room would be sealed, the Light Giver would be left alone until the day she died.

There is nothing that could describe The Process in those first few moments. The magistrate forced himself to watch as the tendril ripped through the Light Giver’s delicate skin. As suddenly diamond hard light forced its way into her skull with crushing force.

All at once her open eyes dimmed, blinded. The light cut through her optic nerve. There was nothing to show when the tendrils tore through the connection between her ears and her brain but the Magistrate knew. He had known the entire process backwards and forwards.

He had reason to.

At last it was over. Respectfully the magistrate backed out of the room. Despite himself he slowed as he passed another rom in the hall. This one sealed shut. He never stopped, knowing there was no point, but he feet felt heavier on that stretch.

Though the family of a Light Giver need never work again, a rare few do. Rarer still were the ones who rejected the assistance offered or hid their connection to a Light Giver. But there were some positions the family of a Light Giver could hold. Magistrate of a power center was one of those positions.

So no one could ever know that behind that door, sealed alone, was his oldest sister.