Milo reclined in a chair in his room and closed his eyes. His next lesson would take about twenty minutes to download into his brain. He was trying to cram as much data into his brain as possible so he could graduate, but after a while he had a migraine and his nose started to bleed. No matter how strong a desire a person had to accelerate the lessons, there was a limit to how much their brain could handle.
Sensing he had overdone it, Milo slowly climbed into his bed â a seven-foot long hyperbaric oxygen chamber. The increased pressure combined with infused oxygen had tremendous therapeutic capabilities. It also allowed people to get a full-night's sleep in only three hours, in effect, increasing a person's conscious lifespan. The beds were expensive and not everyone could afford them, but fortunately the Facility happened to have them. Since a lot of the inhabitants were orphans, extra funding went toward the Facility to make sure they had the best resources in an effort to ensure they didn't grow up to become criminals. Perhaps it was society's way of making restitution for enacting such a harsh law, which forced a lot of children to be separated from their families.
The oxygen-enriched air began to fill the chamber and Milo took in several deep breaths. As the gas circulated his bloodstream, he felt very relaxed. Almost instantly, he was sound asleep, allowing the chamber to work its magic.
About an hour into his sleep, an alarm went off, alerting him of an incoming call. A soft glow illuminated the interior of the chamber and the hatch slowly opened. Milo's brain was still foggy, having just woken up, but he managed to find his access pod.
"Answer," he commanded in a groggy voice. His access pod initiated the call sequence and a voice on the other end spoke.
"Hey, Milo, it's me," Alex said.
"Hi Alex."
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but I was wondering if you heard about the Leader coming to the Megaplex to give his State of the Union Address."
"No, I didn't know about any Union Address?"
"Oh, that actually reminds me of another Union address. I have to go down to Union and Lexington, do you want to come?"
"What's at Union and Lexington?"
"A top secret mission awaits if you choose to accept."
"Say no more, I'm in."
"Great, so what about the other Union Address."
"When and where?"
"I'm sending you the details now."
Milo rose to his feet and got dressed. He looked disheveled, but decided to embrace it. He did not bother combing his hair or shaving. He simply brushed his teeth, put on his jacket, and left.
By the time he arrived at the pyramid, chaos had already ensued. A massive crowd of people had flocked in droves to be in the Leader's presence and hear him speak.
Anytime the Leader made a public appearance, it was generally well received. Maxim Morrison defied the ancient saying that absolute power corrupts absolutely. He came from a respected family of leaders and innovators. However, despite his overwhelming support, there were still many issues of contention, which caused people to protest. Whether it was freedom to procreate, the abolishment of the accountability chips, or the capitalization limits imposed on corporations, history had shown no matter what the issue, there was always at least one person with a dissenting view.
Before the Leader's convoy arrived at the Megaplex pyramid, people had already found their spots on the large, grass field.
"Where do you guys want to sit?" Alex asked.
"Doesn't matter to me," Milo responded.
"I know where we can sit, follow me," Aris offered.
Milo was having a difficult time adjusting to Alex's new friend, especially since Aris was handsome, charming, and apparently knew the best place to sit. Milo did his best to hide his contempt.
As they pushed their way through the crowd, Alex grabbed a hold of Milo's hand. A sigh of relief came over him briefly. Ah, she chose me, he thought. The moment was short-lived, however, because after she grabbed Milo's hand, she called out to Aris, who was ahead of them, and grabbed his hand as well. The three of them connected like a train and made their way through the crowd until they reached their spot.
"Here we are," Aris said, letting go of Alex's hand. Milo held on an extra second longer.
"Not much of a spot here, Aris," Milo said condescendingly. "We're way off to the side."
"Although the view isn't the best, it's an ideal location for when we leave. When the crowds eventually disperse, they'll head east. So we give up a bit of view, but in turn we don't get caught in a stampede."
"Good thinking, Aris," Alex interjected.
"Yeah, good job, Aris," Milo said begrudgingly.
They took their seats on the grassy knoll with Alex sitting in between Milo and Aris. She flipped her hair back and to the left, then got more comfortable.
"So Alex, tell me more about this top-secret mission," Milo said.
"Oh right, the top-secret mission," she laughed. "Okay, so you know how I don't know my mum, right?"
"Yeah."
"Well, Aris suggested I scan my face into one of those facial-recognition programs. The program will modify my face to create an image of what I might look like at different ages. I can then take the images down to my old neighbourhood to see if anyone recognizes the images, which should more or less look like my mother."
"This is Aris' suggestion?" Milo scoffed. "Alex, the city has over ten million people spread out over hundreds of neighborhoods, how do you know which neighbourhood to go to?"
"Aris suggested the neighbourhood around Union and Lexington because he knows of an old blanket manufacturing company. He thinks it may be the same company that made the blanket I have."
"Wow, you're just full of good ideas, aren't you Aris?" Milo said in a snarky tone. Alex shot Milo a harsh look as if to indicate to him to play nicely.
"Okay, I don't even know where to start with this," Milo said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "There are of course several flaws in your theory. First, you're putting a lot of faith into this blanket factory, which may or may not have produced the blanket in question. Let's suppose they did. Why would you assume your mother lived in the same neighbourhood as the manufacturer? This blanket factory probably sold blankets all over the world so it hardly narrows down the neighbourhood your mother lived in when she acquired it, assuming of course she owned it at some point.
"Secondly, you're not a clone of your mother. The images you have are a program's best guess as to what you may look like at different ages, but not your mother.
"Finally, and I will close with this, even if you do look like your mother, the blanket did come from this factory, your mother owned the blanket at some point, and the blanket factory also happened to be in the same neighbourhood as your mother's old neighbourhood â as implausible as all those factors may be â you still have to find someone who recognizes her, which, unfortunately, seems highly unlikely."
Realizing the soundness of Milo's logic, Alex felt a sudden wave of despair come over her. At first, Milo felt like he had just redeemed himself by destroying Aris' theory, but he had inadvertently hurt Alex. Her hopes of finding any link to her past had been caught in the crossfire of his attack.
Alex bowed her head in sorrow.
"You know, I could be wrong," Milo said in an attempt to console her. "I mean, what do I know? You're the smart one. If you need help, just let me know."
Aris gave Milo a dirty look. If Milo didn't feel so badly, he would have retaliated in kind. He put his arm around Alex and offered more words of encouragement.
"Can I at least see the images?" he asked. "I'm curious to know what you'll look like when you get old."
Alex didn't answer.
"Come on, I bet you're still pretty."
Alex gave a faint smile as she seemed to be overcoming her momentary sadness.
"I'll show you the images, but don't laugh."
Alex brought up the images on her access pod to show Milo. "Okay, so this one is what I'm supposed to look like at thirty," she said as she showed Milo the first image. Milo leaned in closer.
"Wow, not bad. You're still a total babe!"
"And this is what I'm supposed to look like at forty."
"Again, not bad."
Alex smiled approvingly then showed him the final image of her fifty-year-old caricature.
"Is that it?" he asked. "Just three images?"
"Well, as you mentioned, this is obviously a long shot, so I didn't want to waste a lot of time getting a new image for every different variable. Remember, I intend to show these to people, and I'm sure they're not going to want to flip through an entire catalogue of me."
"Why not, I would."
"Very funny. I think these are good enough. People will either recognize the lady in the image or they won't. They can use their imagination to fill in any other relevant details like weight or hair color."
"So when do you plan to go?"
"I'd like to go today," Alex said.
"We plan to go as soon as this speech is over," Aris interjected proudly.
"We wouldn't want to go right after, Aris. Someone who may know Alex's mother could be sitting here in this audience. If we rush too soon, we would be missing out on a lot of people. But I'm sure you have a plan for that too, right?" Milo said smugly as he delivered another blow to Aris' ego.
"We can wait a bit then, maybe we can all have lunch in the pyramid before we go," Alex said.
There was a long awkward pause as they all just sat there. Alex was trying to figure out a way for everyone to get along.