Alexithymia: The Curse Of Transcendence 17 Act Of Kindeness

Wasn't who I wanted to be,

And life wasn't the one I wanted to have.

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You who present yourself under different names,

Yet decided to keep the same appearance.

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You are a thousand things,

But everyone sees the million,

You are not.

.

You are not

Where you are from

You are

Where you are going.

.

I'd like

to go there

But you always leave me behind,

Because

You are not me...

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- LOVE:less act 5 -.

...

...

...

Our society succeeded in qualifying people's emotional and mental states. Based on the Social Credits, the numerical value of the human.

Today, a human soul or whatever is left of it can be judged before they commit crimes. They are judged by the "Aleksithimia Technology and Science Corporation" ma.s.sive surveillance network we call 'Mitera System'.

Thanks to Mitera and its long policy of violation, we, 'Keepers' along with local citizens, have been told that we escaped countless tragedies and became the only peaceful nation in the world. The long-awaited peace cost us much more than we thought. People long forgotten the meaning of love and friendship, compa.s.sion and hope. We became emotionless vessels, obeying to the machines that we created with the purpose to serve us.

We made history and created a future in exchange for our humanity. If only that was it…The real answers will remain shrouded in the darkness, along with the true crimes that lurk beneath the surface carefully hidden away. But like in the cycle of life, no one can control nature, not even the Prosper himself. One day the 'King' will become hunted and whatever he is concealing beneath the surface will make it to the surface one way or another...

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[September 25th. Genf - TechnoPark, past midnight].

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Across the traffic lights, taxi lines with infinite ques of white umbrellas; Customers were patiently waiting for their turn. People, in a hurry on their way home, stuck in the traffic as it always happens when it rains in the capital.

.

During the evening it looked like vehicles were floating over the ground, soundless, slowly advancing with the traffic flow to their destination. Along the wet flickering asphalt street, small groups of people were gathered in front of big publicity screens that were disposed of all around the city that were usually presenting flash news.

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The hooded silhouette almost a foot shorter than everyone else moved along in the thick crowd, surrounded by fierce footsteps and the clicking of polished heels, the city of a million of lights was now awake from its daytime doze.

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Holograms and the shopkeepers screamed out offers on the top of their voices to attract customers and customers desperately tried to bargain for the best possible prices. Each hologram was promoting its products, starting from the brand-new body augmentations and its upgrades, prothesis, cosmetics and many more. This was the 'TechnoPark' or the biggest 'Cyber Market' in the Lands of Aleksithimia. The place which was always drowning in the sea of people. Not a single empty place could be spotted between the stalls.

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"Cheap body augmentations!" A female hologram was attracting customers to its shop.

"Buy and Top-Up Mitera Services." Shouted another hologram.

"Welcome, we have new Kanjöga augmentations! Please visit our shop!" Shouted another hologram in the distance.

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Market stalls lined the route, people looked more like a human ma.s.s, b.u.mping into each other, toes trodden on. Whoever liked their own private s.p.a.ce was not welcome in here as the only rule in the 'TechnoPark' was the 'First come, first served'.

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"I hate this place, so noisy..." Nion mumbled. "Mitera, can you reroute the destination? I don't want to go through the market, way too many people."

"Understood." Replied Mitera.

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Nion drifted away from the main street and disappeared in the back alleys maze.

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Stretching corridor, almost a kilometer long, straight and narrow line was surrounded by buildings that were too high to bother seeking the grey sky. The sound of the busy road ricocheted from one side to the other until it became an echo as Nion advanced in the tiny alley. Occasional graffiti was carved into the dark brown brick walls. The half-lit lane looked like totally another city. An emptied vessel that became the home of the underworld, perfect and clean in a way, yet so empty and monotone.

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Before the third world war, that alley used to be one of the busiest street-food markets; Full of small Asian and Western-themed fast-food restaurants, very popular during late hours with office employees who worked around the area until very late. It had delicious traditional food for low prices and a very casual atmosphere.

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Occasional drunk salaryman sleeping on the tables was not a rarity around this area. Sadly, due to the tax implementations, all these small businesses had to shut down. From the busy alley, all that was left were repainted façades and condemned doors with the interior full of dust that was abandoned by their owner ever since the collapse of the 'Grand Central' era.

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Nion looked around. Not a single soul in front of behind her.

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"Creepy..." She blinked and continued her walk on the perfectly aligned stone street, a brief breeze blew through it carrying the smell of a perfect pre-winter chill.

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"Hey, young lady." A deep ba.s.sy voice called.

The sudden voice startled Nion out of her walking pace as she stuck immobile for a couple of seconds.

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"Yes, you. Got some change?" The same voice called once more.

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Nion slowly turned her head over her shoulder. In front of an abandoned subway entrance, an old man was sitting on the steps, he looked at least 70 years old, which is an extremely rare sign after the 'Gan' infection. He sat on some sort of the cardboard, dressed in so many layers, brilliant scarlet cloth beneath the smudges of exhaust-fume pollution, his body silhouette bulged.

.

"Be careful, he is surely from 'Metro'." Mitera warned.

"Then what is he doing here?" Nion nervously whispered. "They are not allowed to come outside!"

.

"Oh! What a kid like yourself doing here at such late time?" The old man asked.

"I highly advise you to ignore him. Talking with him will lower your score even further." Mitera Advised.

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"I know, I know, stay quiet for a second..." Nion slowly advanced towards her caller.

"Don't worry, I won't bite." He laughed as he lit a cigarette. "I am just an old man who is begging for some spare."

.

Nion carefully approached him and crouched against the tin walls taking in shallow breaths, careful not to make a sound. Her eyes kept scanning him as if he was a ghost. More she looked at him, more her curiosity peaked.

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Both looked at each other in the complete silence, it felt as if the whole world stopped moving just for that one moment.

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The old man has slowly removed the piece of cloth that he was using to cover himself. The sudden movement made Nion jump of her toes, hand on her hilt.

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"The only one who can hurt one of us is you... You know that, right?" He has reached out to Nion with his hand. "Now, calm down a bit, keep an old man a company for a bit would you? It is rare when people walk by, and even less when they actually stop." He laughed.

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At the touch, Nion has realized that there was something wrong with his hand as it felt rather unnatural.

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"So, what is your name little one?" He asked.

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She has slowly rolled up the sleeve over his arm. It was a plastic prosthesis, cold to the touch and light like a feather almost identical to these old mannequins that were used in retail shops. Full of small bruises, the prosthesis looked too old, almost aesthetic for something to live with it every day.

"No-one has these things anymore," Nion said.

The old man laughed. "You have no idea!"

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"What's so funny?" She asked.

"Most of the people who I used to know wore this. The new models are so expensive, even my old kidney won't be enough." He raised his arm in the air. "That one does the job."

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"What are you doing out here?" Nion asked.

"You sure ask lots of questions but not willing to answer any of mines." He laughed again.

.

After a short moment of reflection. "Quarta..." Nion replied.

"Here we go! Quarta is a very unusual name." He inhaled his cigarette. "Nowadays, young folks call themselves with all them weird-a.s.s names, I would not even call my rat like that." He laughed. "World sure changed from what it used to be back in the days."

.

Nion remained silent. "You?" Nion asked.

"Samuel, but you can call me Uncle Sam." He offered his prosthetic arm for a handshake.

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"Are you alone?" Asked Nion.

"Yes, mam. Waiting for the for my death like a 'Toast for b.u.t.ter' - you know what I mean." He laughed, then tossed with the tobacco in his throat. 'Cough, cough.'

"Toast for b.u.t.ter...?" Nion looked confused.

.

"There are lots of things that want me dead in that d.a.m.n world, if not that psycho Aleksi whatever his name is; that will be 'Creepers' in Metro, if that won't be them, well, I'll just die from hunger or diabetes!"

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"Sounds harsh..." Nion gave a regretful smile.

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"Yes, it is... But hey, I've survived for 78 years so far, I'll be fine." He exhaled a large cloud of smoke from his mouth then offered the cigarette to Nion who gently refused.

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"I don't like... 'this'." She waved her hand.

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"And you are right! I will probably die in the next 2 or so... So you know... Just enjoying my last moments in this rat hole." He laughed.

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"Ahem, here, take it." She handed him a pile of coins that she got ready for the 'Social Credit' payment.

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"That's a lot!" He almost refused it.

.

"Please take it, it will be more useful for you than me." She insisted.

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"You know what? You are my ray of sunshine! I mean it!" He grabbed her hand.

"No worries." She replied.

"Thank you very, very much, young lady. I appreciate you giving some hope to the old man." He shook her hand almost in tears. "Perhaps y'all aren't as rotten as I thought you are."

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"Not everyone but there a few nice people in this city." Nion said.

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He smiled through his tears. "You know..." He took a small flask from his inner pocket and took a sip from it. "Back in the days, I used to be a wealthy man! And I swear on the name of G.o.d, when I say wealth, I mean it! People called me 'Mister Samuel' best trader in America... I s.h.i.t you not, I even had my own driver, yes I said it! A driver just for me. That b.a.s.t.a.r.d was sometimes driving so fast I thought I was a goner!" He laughed. "Not, a single accident! You hear me? He worked for me for more than 10 years; not a single accident, not even one! He was a great man, Luckas, his name was Luckas..." 'Cough, Cough' "And madame Dowie, G.o.d d.a.m.n! She was one of the finest women I've ever met! Who do you think she was working for?"

"Eh... I don-" Nion tried to reply but got cut in the middle of the sentence.

"You are d.a.m.n right! She was my secretary." When Samuel was talking about his past he looked like the happiest man in the world.

"I was going to them fancy restaurants, spending my money as if that was the last day of my life, I had everything, woman, houses, cars... Everything a young businessman like myself would ever dream of!"

.

"Okay..." Mumbled Nion.

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"And then, in 2048, not even a month after Charlie, my youngest boy's birthday, the 'European Union' collapsed... You' all folks probably never heard of these times... When the 'European Union' collapsed everything went down... The economy, finances, jobs, health insurance, everything went from bad to worse every day... We knew that was coming, but the men in power took too long, as usual. In the 2060's they've tried to rebuild whatever was left of the European Union and called it the Grand Central, but that was too late." He took another sip. "And then the Gan virus. .h.i.t us harder... I ran out of money just by paying for medicament, food, and water... tons of water... Because once you get that s.h.i.t, you live for drinking water. Every single day we drank like 30 gallons of water! In normal times 30 gallons of water would be enough for 50 people! Let me tell, we were only 4 people! And if don't drink enough guess what happens to you..."

.

"I am sorry..." Nion said.

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"Then out of nowhere the WW3 happened, I remember as if that was yesterday when the president of the United States that we are at war, me and my wife, we were crying. We had enough for G.o.d's sake... It felt like the whole world was about to explode. Next thing we knew, the government forced all cadets and young adults to enter the army. And then there was nothing... None of my kids has ever come back... My wife was so worried and stressed out about them that she was getting sicker each day, until the day her heart just let go..."

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He tried to lit up another cigarette but his hands were too shaky.

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"Here." Nion took his lighter and helped him. "You should stop smoking..."

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A sound of alarm rand on his wrist.w.a.tch. Sam stood up, he shuffled, his head moving this way and that, unsteady like there was a personal earthquake beneath his cardboard. His grey hair hung as a tangled mop of brown and grey while a white beard traveled down his dark overcoat.

"Since I am on the streets, the only thing I receive is averted gazes as the pa.s.sers-by try to avoid looking at my desperate face, they just don't know my story... n.o.body cares, why would they...? Some of you try to look sympathetic, but I can see through that 'Sorry' facade to only find their disgust...

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"We are not the same..." Nion replied.

"Same or not but, you are the first person from the 'Overground' who was gentle to me!" He wiped his nose.

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"I am sorry for what you've been through..." Nion replied as she looked him in the eyes that were set somewhere far away, further than Nion could comprehend or reach in her current state.

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As expected the harshness of street life taught Samuel how to stay isolated and most importantly alive in every possible way. Every single day was meant to survive for a bit longer, acquire better knowledge to go through whatever tomorrow would bring.

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Samuel has exhaled a large cloud of smoke. "Sometimes... I do agree with that brat who is now the leader of this country... If there was a G.o.d." He took a deep breath. "He is now gone..."

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"G.o.d is like a mythological creature. He never existed in the first place. The only supreme leader in this world is called 'Science'." Replied Nion.

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"And money, lots of it..." He laughed. "Thank you for keeping me company, Quarta, was it?" He tapped her shoulder.

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"Actually, my name is Nion." She replied.

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"Nion... That's a beautiful name you got. Much better than 'K-WAR-TA'" Both smiled as they looked at the dark sky.

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It was past midnight, the sun has long gone to rest, the moon took over his place as the darkness enveloped the whole continent. The air was still and heavy, and thick clouds blotted out the stars.

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"I like the night, it hides my flaws, my imperfections, everything is silent as if the whole city belongs to me..." Nion said.

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At that very moment, a tiny ray of moonlight has enlightened Nion's amethyst eyes. The old man shook as he saw Nion's eyes.

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"These eyes... I've heard of it before." He said. "That's the eyes of someone who died countless times... The cursed heritage of The Sixth Judgement..."