I always stared at the sky above and thought, do I exist as an intelligent individualistic human being or am I just born in this life time to accomplish one important task and that’s it?
I don’t remember my childhood. I don’t think it has ever existed in my mind. I kept wondering how it was by some photos in a small metal box that portrayed me as a child. Where did these photo papers come from? Where did this box come from that I kept hiding underneath my bed cushion? I only took them out on days like today to remember something. Anything. I don’t remember my parents or if I had any one to call mom and dad. I don’t have brothers or sisters nor any living relative.
I don’t remember I was ever taught to write on a piece of paper. We learned to tap on a screen and letters and numbers appeared. We learned to recognize these letters, words, sentences, paragraphs and stories. Everything was just a screen that did all the work for us. We only learned how to decipher what was written and speak in a language that is recognizable by machines.
We live in a small world where machines are our only tool of survival. Our species, or what is left of it, was trained by our leaders to protect those machines. Also, we are trained mentally and physically to prepare for an upcoming inevitable war. Yet, who is out there that we need this high level of constant security? What are we waiting for? Aliens? Decades ago, it was proven that aliens don’t exist and we are in this universe all alone. Alone in our being and thoughts.
A few years ago, after taking an intelligence exam to test my aptitude and future position in this world, I was told by my superiors that I had unusual scores. I was never told what they were nor did I ask, but they automatically placed me in the special compound called “Intelligence” where General John Myr was in charge of it, and I monitored all machine activities, data collection and analysis, and defence of a project that was named Merge.
My daily life was predictable. I left everything in my room so I can’t be reached or called for. My only time I can be someone else. I only kept a hold of a small gun on a belt surrounding my waist. I physically trained in the morning by running two miles along the old bridge that crossed what is left of the old city. I jumped over bulgy rocks in a semi crooked line that I have placed on a half paved road for ten yards. When I felt happy and wanted an ounce of what is thought of as fun, I tried to grab hold of non-working street lights and swing from them. I felt that the world at that moment was meant to spin me. It felt different, carefree, and childlike perhaps. It was my escape, but an escape from what?
I ventured back to reality when I heard someone call my name from a far. “Lina!”