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No Need to Worry

Posted in Global Travel, Lucerne Village with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 16, 2012 by javedbabar

Adam had heard that professional jobs were available in Lucerne. Things were pretty slow in the city so it seemed like a good idea to try his luck elsewhere.

In days gone by he would have just taken off abroad. Living in developing countries was cheaper than staying in Arcadia. When he wasn’t working here, living in India or Ethiopia or Peru was a way to save money, provided he went for at least a month to amortize the airfare.

A month in the city was about three thousand bucks all in, a hundred a day. A month in Varanasi, Lalibela or Cuzco was two thousand, flights included, and the longer he stayed there, the better the notional day-rate – going from sixty dollars to half that. But now that he had a wife and three step-children, he had to handle the situation carefully.

He did some day trips initially. Lucerne was a pretty village with a white mountain standing guard above it, and surrounded by forests, rivers and lakes. It was filled with old families of farmers, loggers and hunters, but also a new crowd of artists, musicians and yoga teachers. He checked with Village Hall, and yes, they said, they needed professional people desperately. If he moved here, he could have his pick of jobs.

“When can I have an interview?” he asked the receptionist.

“This is it,” she said. “You’ve got the job, or more than one if you like.”

“More than one?”

“Yes, we have numerous positions available, and funds from the Authority gathering dust. We want to use them for the benefit of Lucerne’s citizens.” She explained the strange situation here. There was mass unemployment of unskilled people, but a shortage of skilled ones. They desperately needed his expertise.

Adam was assigned the job of CPM: Chief Project Manager, and asked to start as soon as possible. He was also given a house to live in with a nocturnal security guard.

“Is that necessary?” he asked. “It seems like a peaceful place.”

“Just in case,” said the receptionist. “You never know.”

Adam’s wife agreed that he should follow the work, and they moved immediately. On the first evening, they dined outdoors, and were so moved by beauty that they could hardly speak. Adam had seen such beauty before, in the Himalayas, Lasta Mountains, and the Andes, but always alone. He was now seeing it with his family, through the eyes of his beloved, and her children.

As the sun set, the security guard, David, suggested they go indoors.

“What’s the hurry?” said Adam. “Let’s enjoy the stars appearing and tonight’s full moon.” He knew it would be impossible to get the kids early to bed tonight. They may as well stay out.

“You don’t know this place well, do you. Have you stayed here overnight before? No? Okay, trust me. You’re better off indoors. That’s what I’m here for, to stay outdoors to ensure your safety. There’s no need to worry though. I am a professional too. I will keep you safe.”

“Safe from what?”

“You’ll see.”

“Do you have a gun?” Adam recoiled when he realized what he’d said. Had he brought his family to a place where you need a gun to survive?

“No, I won’t need a gun. Just go inside and take it easy. No need to worry.”

That night they heard glass smashing somewhere, screeching tires, and flashes like firecrackers, followed by a chorus of sirens – ambulances, fire trucks, and cops. They slept eventually but were disturbed from their slumber by smashing and shouting. Adam went to the window to see. There was David, covered in blood, either grimacing or grinning.

“What happened?” he called. “Are you okay?”

“I told you not to worry. I have taken care of it.” He wiped his machete, swigged some beer and sat down. He looked at the horrified children and said, “Nothing to see. Now go to bed.”

He wanted them to leave before there was another assault on the house. More of the poor would come.

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Monkey Business

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on October 15, 2012 by javedbabar

Adil shouldn’t have gone hiking.  He had never gone by himself before. His friend Steve was supposed to take him, but domestic issues had caused him to drop out. He said, “Monkey! Let’s go next weekend instead.” Monkey was Adil’s nickname, on account of his hairy body and climbing skills, and he was also called “link”, as in the missing link.

Adil was feeling stressed by life in general, and its romantic and financial aspects in particular. He needed to get away.

He packed his backpack, hitched a couple of rides up the valley, and headed into the forests at the base of Mt Negra. Four days would be enough to reach the top of the mountain, spend a day there, and come back down. It was irresponsible to climb alone, but it wasn’t really climbing. Steve had said no technical ascent was involved.

The first day was great. Adil estimated that he was about halfway up, which wasn’t bad seeing as he had only started climbing at midday. Maybe he was better off without Steve after all. He travelled faster alone.

He found a good spot to set up camp, a small meadow with red, gold and green wildflowers. He hadn’t known there were such things as green flowers. He picked one and smelled its rich, coffee-like perfume.

His tent was up in five minutes, and a three course meal under way in fifteen. He cooked it in four stages on his camp stove. First was beef soup, then pasta, then tomato sauce for it, and then tea. Nice warm liquids, nourishing and hydrating, so much better than the junk he consumed daily – burgers, pizza and beer.

Adil threw a rope over a branch and hauled his supplies up into the tree. He’d probably be OK, but why take the chance?

This didn’t stop a hungry black bear though, which must have climbed the tree, jumped on the backpack, and gnawed away the rope. By the time Adil emerged from his tent, it was already gone, leaving only quivering bushes.

No food was an issue, as was no water, but most pressing was no map or compass, which he had foolishly left in the pocket of the backpack, which was now elsewhere. The thought of the compass guiding the bear around the province amused him briefly, but quickly seemed less funny.

Adil could make out his general position but not get an accurate bearing. Should he continue to the top or turn back now?

He wandered around a bit, looking for his bag. Maybe it could still be recovered. It became dark unexpectedly, too quickly, so he set up his tent again. In the night he dreamed of fur brushing against his skin and something dark biting him, but upon waking found no tooth marks. The smell of rich coffee must still be on his breath from the night before.

Adil navigated by the sun’s position and made progress downwards, but became less sure of his orientation. He saw a strange jumble above his head. Was it a huge nest? Or some kind of aerial beaver’s lodge? It seemed a rough tree house, but who would build that here?

If he stayed up there he would be safe from the bear though. He collected nuts, fruits, berries and herbs and spent the third night of his hike in the tree house. He didn’t feel safe on the forest floor, so stayed there the next night too, coming down only to gather foods.

A week later, Search & Rescue teams came looking for Adil. One of them saw his shelter and what seemed to be a large monkey within it. He pushed the speak button on his radio. He must inform his team that he’d found a new species of primate in the forest, that built green flower nests. But before he said anything, he smelled rich coffee, sensed something above him, and everything went black.

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Clarity

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Sacred Geometry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on October 13, 2012 by javedbabar

The final quality specified in the Jobs of the Future program was Clarity, without which the others – pattern recognition, common sense, creativity, imagination, people skills, and technical awareness – were useless. If you couldn’t focus on the job in hand, you wouldn’t get anywhere. It was as clear as that.

One of Shama’s many jobs in the city had been working in a jewelry shop. He mostly sold low-end stuff to poor people, but the shop’s owner also had private clients whose goods were of a higher order.

One day the boss had entered the sales floor as Shama was describing gems as “just bits of glass that look quite similar”. He told him to stop right there – not with anger, but with curtness – and to follow him into the back room. Shama wondered if he was about to get fired. He was in fact about to get educated.

Diamonds were removed from velvet bags and scattered on the table before him.

He was told about their 4 C’s.

The owner said, “Carat is a unit of mass used for gemstones, equal to 0.2 grams. The word comes from the Greek keration, meaning carob seed, which was a unit of weight used to measure gold.

“Colour of a diamond is affected by chemical impurities or structural defects in the crystal lattice. A perfect diamond has no hue, but in reality no gem-sized natural diamonds are colorless. This can be a good or bad thing. If they are a little yellow this detracts from their value, but pink or blue enhances their worth. Red diamonds are the rarest and most valuable.

“Cut does not refer to the shape of the diamond, which may be oval, round, or pear, but to its symmetry, proportion and polish. The cut impacts the brilliance, so a poorly cut diamond will be less luminous, and a well cut diamond will blaze with fire.

“Clarity is the most important quality. It relates to the visual appearance of internal elements called inclusions, and surface defects called blemishes. Inclusions can be classified as clouds, feathers, knots, cavities, cleavage, bearding or graining. Blemishes can be polish lines, grain boundaries, naturals, scratches, nicks, pits, chips or breaks. Most flaws are tiny, but clarity grade is assigned based upon appearance under ten-times magnification.”

The owner gave him a lens to view the diamonds.

Shama witnessed hidden worlds of light that filled his mind and heart. It was no wonder that kings, pirates and princesses lusted after them. Each diamond’s interior seemed like outer space, or maybe he should call it inner space. It was a place of endless wonder. There were black holes and supernovae, shooting stars and solar flares. Universes being created, destroyed, and recreated.

He never forgot the lesson in the back room, which gave him new vision. Now there was a new problem. He couldn’t focus on shop front activity without being distracted by flecks of light.

Shama buzzed Sue and asked her to join him in his office. Her thoughts were always helpful, and he was starting to like her. He was shocked to see a new ring on her finger with a high quality 3 carat, Mazarin-cut diamond. Was it her old engagement ring, from her ex-husband? Or was it from a husband-to-be?

Shama couldn’t focus on the job in hand. His cognitive processes engaged in selective focus. His mental resources were allocated to the diamond ring. It took possession of his mind in clear and vivid form. Other simultaneously possible objects were excluded. There was a focalization, a concentration, a withdrawal from alternative thoughts.

There was also a withdrawal of Sue’s hand from view. He had made her self-conscious, and her focus right now was on someone else.

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Technical Awareness

Posted in Classic Sci-Fi, Lucerne Village with tags , , , , , , , , , , on October 12, 2012 by javedbabar

Shama buzzed Sue again. Thank God for the Village Hall receptionist. His job as Training Director would be impossible without her.

Sue had got him through the first month of a role that he was totally unqualified for. It was only The Authority’s urgent need to fill the position that had landed him the job, and also that of Building Control Officer, which he was performing simultaneously.

He noticed that Sue had changed her hair color from blue-black to reddish-brown. How could you dye something lighter? There must be a trick.

Why did women like making dramatic changes to their appearance? Did it change anything beyond their façade? Sue was always cheerful, but today more than usual, so maybe the change had seeped within. A case of software affecting hardware.

She wore rough crystal jewelry. Pale stones caught the light.

“Shall I guess?” said Sue. “It’s about the Jobs of the Future program?”

Shama nodded. “Yes it is. I am looking at Technical Awareness. How would you define technology?”

“Well I guess it’s the stuff we use every day that makes our lives easier. Going right back there’s making fire, the wheel and printing press. Then radio and television. There’s recent things like the jet engine, the internet and nuclear power.”

Her list prompted a thought that these were all ways to adapt to, and control, our environment. Technology represented culture beating nature, and that was the cause of its downsides too – imbalance, pollution and depletion.

Shama looked around his office, and said, “Do you think we could survive without heat and light, power, computers, phones?”

“Of course we could. What I mean is that we could survive without modern methods. My family lived off-grid when I was a child. We had a woodstove for heat, candles for light, and coal for fuel. A few hundred years behind the times maybe, but it worked pretty well. And mankind survived for a hundred thousand years without computers and cell phones. I’m sure we could do it again if needed.”

Sue said that modern technology was helpful but not vital. The tools, knowledge, machinery, modifications, arrangements, procedures, techniques, crafts, systems and methods of organization used to solve problems, improve pre-existing solutions to problems, and perform specific functions, were useful, but humanity could also do without them. We have done. We do. We may again, come the Apocalypse.

“You’re so smart,” said Shama. “You always know what you’re talking about. What would I do without you? How do you do it?”

Sue wondered whether to tell him about her crystal jewelry. Her bracelet, ring and necklace attracted microwave vibrations, which her earrings channeled towards the SSTM chip implanted in her neck. Why not use technology to get ahead?

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Imagination

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on October 10, 2012 by javedbabar

Shama had identified the skills required for his Jobs of the Future program, which were pattern recognition, common sense, creativity, imagination, people skills, technical awareness, and clarity. As Lucerne’s Training Director, his job was to boost these skills in the local community.

This week he decided to focus on Imagination, an area very dear to him. As a child he had been deemed “over-imaginative”. His flights of fancy caused his parents to think that he may be mentally unstable. Doctors said that he was sane, but “borderline”. Heavy drug use in his twenties had made things worse. Finding God in his thirties had helped his mind to settle, but he later realized that this was only another form of over-imagination – seeing divine purpose in every occurrence regardless of proof.

He buzzed reception. “Sue, are you free for a few minutes? Can you please come to my office? I need your help.”

Sue seemed contented in life. Maybe she had fulfilled her desires. He asked her, “What do you like about your job?”

“What do you mean? Is this an appraisal?”

“No, no, I really want to know. It’s to help with the program.”

Sue smiled and said, “I like talking to people, I like helping them, I like having a quiet working environment; it keeps me calm. I like dealing with local issues where I can make a difference and see the results, and I like…”

He interrupted. “And what would you like from your life?” He’d meant to say job rather than life, but now he’d said it.

“From my life? Well, I guess maybe another husband, a cabin by the river, a career in healing, seeing my children happy, and their children happy too. I would like to travel more, go to Peru and Tibet. Do you want more?”

“That’s good for now. How will you get those things? Do you have a plan?”

“Yes, I do. Have you been to Guru Baba’s talks in the community centre? He says that the Law of Attraction is very simple – you get what you want. You must imagine it first, and then desire it with all your heart. It always works.”

“Always?” asked Shama.

“Yes, always, eventually, though maybe not how you imagined.”

“Then what’s the point of imagining it, if you get something else?” Here was his issue again – over-imagination.

Sue said, “I am not explaining it very well. He says that you desire on a personal level but you receive things on the archetypal level. So you get what you want in essence, though it may differ in detail. But the seed is always your imagination.”

They hatched a plan together. The next day there were posters all over town saying, “Night of Desire – Free – This Saturday at the Transparent Temple.” Transparent Temple was the popular name for their huge, glassy community centre.

People talked about it all week. There were rumors it was a sex show, a swingers’ night, or a workshop about the Kama Sutra. Excited singles and nervous couples turned up on Saturday. Teens lined the glass panels, peering in.

Sue told the gathering to close their eyes and imagine their deepest desires. If they wished to share something, they should raise their hands. She would tap that person’s shoulder, who should speak aloud, telling people what he or she truly desired, in as much detail as possible. After ten minutes people lost their shyness and spoke aloud.

The man wishing to see the Pyramids of Giza heard about the woman who wanted to ride a camel. The woman wanting to make cupcakes heard about the man who wanted to open a sweetshop. The man who dreamed of building a fairytale castle heard about the builder who had registered the URL, Camelot.com

As soon as people related their dreams, they found others who shared them. They began to manifest them together.

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Creativity

Posted in Conceptual Art, Lucerne Village with tags , , , , , , , , , , on October 9, 2012 by javedbabar

The Jobs of the Future program was in trouble. How could Shama achieve his goal of doubling training numbers when budgets seemed to halve each year? He knew that the MD was stealing funds, but Shama had only just started as Training Director, and afraid that if he said anything he would lose his job.

He would have to be smart with his use of funds. Who was best to focus attention on? Which group would be most receptive?

He could target seniors, the most out of touch with technology. His efforts there could make their generation economically active. He could target middle-aged people needing to brush up their skills. He could boost productivity of younger workers, and empower the engine of the local economy. Or maybe it was best to focus on children. Yes, that would be the best long-term investment.

The Headmistress welcomed him to the Elementary school. She said, “The children are excited. Their whole life is the future. Some have troubled pasts, it’s true, and we do the best we can for them. We believe there’s hope for every little person here.”

Shama stopped to admire some drawings pinned to the wall. Talking puddings and ants made of jelly – how did they conceive of such things?

That’s it! he thought. He said, “Mrs Johnson, I won’t be needing that projector after all. I’ve had a better idea. Do you have colored pens and paper?”

“For you, or for the class?”

“For everyone. I think that today is a good day for drawing.”

The class was well behaved but restless. The boys especially were itching to speak to him. Once Shama was introduced, a ginger boy put up his hand and shouted, “Do you really have a job in the future?”

Rather than speaking about the future, he thought that Shama was from the future. Before he could correct him, another boy shouted, “What is it? Do you make robots?”

A girl said, “Do you fly spaceships?”

The questions became more general.

“Is it true that you can live inside video games?”

“Can you grow and then eat your own clothes?”

“Can you make sweat into water, for people who live in deserts?”

Shama smiled and said, “Sorry to disappoint you all. I am from today, like you are. I hope that I will have a job in the future, and I hope that you will too, a job that you love, and at which you are brilliant. But I am here today to tell you about the skills you will need to do those jobs.”

He ran through the key areas – pattern recognition, common sense, creativity, imagination, people skills, technical awareness, and clarity. He asked them to draw how they would use those skills.

The children produced the craziest drawings he had ever seen. Some also made models. He was thrilled by their enthusiasm and creativity. Kids are amazing!

At the end of the class he said, “Don’t forget to take these home to show to your brothers and sisters, and parents and grandparents.” Their drawings stuck to fridges, and their models on coffee tables, would be daily reminders to all generations of skills required for jobs of the future.

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Common Sense

Posted in Lucerne Village with tags , , , , , , , , , , on October 8, 2012 by javedbabar

Shama’s new job as Training Director came with some goals, which he discovered in a file marked Targets. There was something strange about them though.

They were originally dated 2012, but that year had been crossed out and replaced by 2013, and then 2014, 2015, 2016, all the way to the current year, 2020. Within the file was a sheet of paper stating a single goal: To double training numbers.

Shama knew that business goals should be SMART (Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Relevant, Timely). This goal was not SMART. What was the starting figure? Was this a goal that had not been achieved, hence the sequence of years on the cover, or was it more like a Mission Statement, a perennial goal?

He checked a file called Budgets, whose years were marked in a similar manner to the Targets file, counting from 2012 to 2020. This file was more informative though. It showed the Training funding reducing every year. If The Authority wanted to double training numbers, why were they halving funding? It didn’t make sense.

He knocked on the Managing Director’s office door. A voice called out, “Come!”

“Good morning. I am a bit confused about something. Do you have a few minutes to help me?”

“A few minutes, sure.” The MD was a very attractive woman. Shama thought, she must keep herself really fit. She had unblemished, golden skin and perfect breasts and thighs. He stomach was as flat as an ironing board. He had heard she was in her fifties, but she could pass for forties, or even late thirties. What a knockout!

She said, “How are you getting on here? Are you enjoying your new job?”

He almost corrected her: jobs. He was doing two jobs but only being paid for one. She however was never busy, seeming to do a half-job. But what would correcting her achieve?

“I am learning a lot,” he said.

She interrupted. “As you should be! You are Training Director. If you don’t train yourself, how will you train others?”

He didn’t know how to respond, so moved on. “I am developing the Jobs of the Future program. This is a vital pillar of our work force’s development, covering skills required for the new flexible, collaborative economy. We are focusing on pattern recognition, common sense, creativity, imagination, and other skills.”

“That sounds wonderful. So what’s the problem?”

Sue, the receptionist, had helped him with some financial analysis.  “Well, we don’t have enough funds to achieve our goals. The amount of money available for training is reducing each year. I will write a letter to The Authority requesting more funds…”

“That won’t be necessary,” the MD said sharply.

“But we need more…”

“No we don’t. We have enough money.”

When she said the word money, things clicked. Her tailored blue suit, jeweled watch and perfect manicure; her unnaturally full lips, taut face and high breasts; her Mercedes parked outside. These adornments were all bought with money. She had enough money. That was where it was going, somehow slipping into her wallet. If he wanted to keep his job he’d better stop pushing. That was common sense.

A part of him also wondered, was there enough to share?

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Pattern Recognition

Posted in Lucerne Village with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 7, 2012 by javedbabar

Shama’s success as Building Control Officer had led to a promotion. He became Training Director, responsible for skills improvement of Lucerne’s current and future workforce. Well, it seemed like a promotion at first, before he realized that it was actually another job as well. He was now doing two jobs for not much more money than before.

The lack of professional people in the valley meant that no one else was available. Inadequate facilities for their children caused any that moved here to leave soon after.

Shama had heard that at one time local jobs were coveted, and Village Hall only employed the best and brightest. Kids went to the New City, studied, graduated and returned to work here. Over time the attraction of the village faded, and kids now went anywhere but here to build their lives. Small towns were dying everywhere.

Shama buzzed the receptionist. “Good morning, Sue. Have you had your teatime? Do you have a moment? Good. Please join me in my office?”

“Which one?”

He had forgotten that he now had two offices – one as Building Control Officer, and the other as Training Director. “The Training Director’s office. I will be there in a minute.” He walked out of one door and into another, followed by Sue. He opened a file called Jobs of the Future.

“The issue is this,” he said, staring at Mt Alba, framed nicely by his office window. “We have many construction projects taking place in Lucerne. There are tax dollars coming into the local economy. But as soon as these projects are over, there will be no more income for the village. So now is the time to reverse the outflow of professional people.”

She said, “The previous Training Director planned to do that too, but instead he joined them.” Shama’s face fell.

She continued, “I am not saying we shouldn’t do something. We should, absolutely. We can’t even service the projects under way, never mind any future ones. That’s why you’re doing two jobs and I’m doing three. But the key is to ask what kind of people are needed.”

What does she mean by that? thought Shama. He said, “Go on.”

“Well, if there are no professional people available, why don’t we look for unprofessional people like you?… Oh dear! I didn’t mean that in a bad way. I meant practical people who get things done. We should look for key qualities in individuals, not people with labels, and we should think and plan ahead to avoid any more staff turnover.”

She’s pretty smart, thought Shama. People on the front line always are. They deal with unexpected situations, whoever comes in or calls right now. Those in offices deal with controlled situations; they have work plans, meetings and schedules.

“What do you suggest?” he asked.

“The first step is pattern recognition. I don’t mean pattern matching, where you look for exactly what you want, as we know that’s not available right now. We should use some fuzzy logic, and look for clusters of skills and reasonable answers. I know the lingo as I’m studying for a Human Relations diploma. From what I’ve read, it seems that future jobs will be more flexible, freelance and collaborative. That’s the approach we should take.”

Shama had an idea and said, “I need a Training Manager immediately. I could ask you to do it, but I know you’re too busy. But we need someone like you with common sense, creativity, imagination, people skills, technical awareness, and focus. Do you have a sister?”

“No, I don’t, but I do have a cousin looking for work. See, you’re learning already.”

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One Megabyte

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience with tags , , , , , , , , , , on October 6, 2012 by javedbabar

Alan and Patricia were always welcoming. As soon as he neared their forest cabin, Bobby began feeling happy and relaxed. His weekly trips there were a tonic.

There were things going on at the farm that he didn’t understand, and that worried him somewhat. Tomatoes grew better when exposed to advertising jingles, mushrooms were affected by satellite TV channels, and he was encouraged to drink a “healthy natural beverage” that somehow unsettled him.

Alan’s workshop was full of technology. Bobby wasn’t sure if this was the right word though. It was state of the art technology once upon a time, but these days of smaller, better, faster may now cause it to be labelled junk. There were many metal boxes with buttons, wires, levers and cogs.

“Do you still use all these” – Bobby didn’t know what to call them – “machines?”

“Sure I do! They still work. Why shouldn’t I?”

Bobby pulled out his smartphone. It never received a signal on the farm but here it worked beautifully. “This phone has more power than everything in this workshop. I’m not trying to show off; anybody with twenty dollars a month to spare can have one. I just mean that your machines seem outdated.”

“So you think I should donate them to the museum?”

“Not necessarily,” said Bobby. “But maybe. Wouldn’t you be better off with a small, simple gadget with multiple functions? And when technology advances, you can upgrade.”

Alan looked at him with seriousness. “What is the data limit on your smartphone? Ten megabytes? A day? So three hundred megabytes a month. Well, I transfer one megabyte a month.”

Bobby was about to be impressed, but then thought, hang on! He said, “Do you mean one gigabyte? So you transfer three times more than me?”

“No I meant one megabyte. That’s plenty. I do use some compression technology, but that’s it!”

Bobby was confused and stood blinking.

Alan pushed a few buttons and lights appeared on metal boxes. “In the early days there were radio transmissions for only two hours a day. When TV came along, we had only one hour a day. Telephone calls were very expensive; you’d watch your minutes carefully. With computers there was limited bandwidth, it was precious and you preserved it. A photo took half an hour to download, and a movie took all day.

“We appreciated those things. Our family would gather around the radio. We would watch TV together. Receiving a call would be a special thing.

“Now everything is always available. It’s too much. People receive endless news, data and popular culture. It is making them sick. They flick through these things as if they are empty boxes, always looking for the next one, hoping it will be full.

“Patricia and I pick one thing a day and focus on it, whether it is a message, a photo, or scene from a film. We enjoy that thing only. It is like a meditation. And we’ve found that after one hundred years, we’ve never been bored yet. Do you want to see today’s special selection?”

Bobby nodded.

Alan showed him a picture of the Lucerne Valley one hundred years ago, before the time of roads, factories and malls. There was just land and light. Its beauty made him weep.

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T-Phone

Posted in Classic Sci-Fi, Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on October 5, 2012 by javedbabar

The farm was hot and full of bugs. Maybe the ecosystem wasn’t quite balanced yet, or the ladybugs were of a lethargic species, and the mosquitoes of a dynamic one, for the latter were winning hands down. The forest was cooler, with widely spaced Arcadian Firs. Their branches captured much of the light, which meant less vegetation on the forest floor, and thus fewer bugs. Bobby dozed in the forest daily from twelve to four.

On days off he’d visit Alan and Patricia, who said they’d lived in the valley for one hundred years. Alan was a prehistoric geek, obsessed by communications. He captured local transmissions via an antenna, many miles long, strung between firs.

“You always seem so happy together,” Bobby said to Patricia as she poured him Lady Grey Tea. She’d said it was a perfectly refreshing afternoon tea, which she preferred to the floral taste of Earl Grey. “What’s your secret? Is it just your time spent together? A hundred years in the forest has surely drawn you closer. Or is it something else?”

“Alan says that we are in tune. We have the same frequency. Do you know the difference between AM and FM radio signals? You don’t? Well, AM means Amplitude Modulation. The size of the waves rises and falls, conveying the information necessary to transmit a message. FM is totally different. It stands for Frequency Modulation. The size of the waves is constant but the distance between them changes, which conveys information. Well, Alan says that he is AM and I am FM, but we’re in tune with each other. It doesn’t really make…”

“Hello again, young man!” said Alan, bursting into the room. “So good to see you. How’s your teatime? You like it? Good, good.”

Patrician poured him a cup too. There was no need for her to ask him, as she was in tune.

“Has she told you about my new invention? I can tell him, can’t I, love?” Patricia nodded. “It’s the T-Phone!” He pulled out a mobile phone as big as a brick. Bobby had last seen one of those in the 1980s. Was Alan that much behind the times?

Alan smiled and said, “I know it’s not much to look at, but wait till I show you what it can do.”

Bobby said, “Please do.”

“I’ve tried various forms of information propagation – AM, FM – I heard Patricia telling you about those – and SSB, TETRA, amateur radio, unlicensed radio, even radio control, but they have never conveyed all the information encoded. There is always loss.” He stopped for a moment. “And digital information is even worse; its binary form removes gradation.”

Alan tinkered with the brick-sized phone. “Do you know Instagram? Well, what that does for your photos, the T-Phone does for your voice. It enriches the frequencies, avoids noise, and prevents fading. It creates a richer sound.”

“Why is it called the T-Phone?” asked Bobby.

“Because the technology it uses is Telepathy. There is no physical transfer, thus there is no resistance and loss. The T-Phone uses silence as a means of communication. Everything is contained within it.”

Bobby noticed that Alan said these last words without his lips moving.

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