The Human Template

Part 1: “With our thoughts we make the world.” (Buddha)





A piercing breeze whistles through the empty streets, giving Kyle Sutchet a chill as he wanders aimlessly from one block to the next.

The tall grey buildings crowd him like giants around a fireplace but he doesn’t notice them.

There haven’t been houses for years now; nowadays everyone lives in these new modern constructions called “Aedifices”.

The Aedifices weren’t exactly works of art, in fact they were quite hideous to those who bothered to notice them, but at least they were practical.

One Aedifice could house up to thirty-two families which made them a necessity for everybody.

There was no room for individual houses; the world was small enough as it was without constructing unnecessary small buildings to rob the earth of its rapidly dwindling space.

At the beginning Kyle had been perturbed by the idea of these new assemblies, but since he couldn’t do anything anyway and since nobody else seemed to care about their unsightliness and size, he quickly dismissed his apprehensions and settled into the mindset of the crowds.

As he passes a small electronics shop (the shops were always set on the first floors of the Aedifices so as not to obstruct their businesses), a notice pops up on one of the televisions sitting idly in the window.

A broadcast by the government, the daily morning report at 7 o’ clock reminding humanity of the golden age they lived in.

“Dear fellow humans, we are at the height of our industry, the pinnacle of our production, the apex of our civilization.

Today production is running smoothly and if it continues, everyone may be in for a reward at the end of the week.

Prices are steady and the poverty rate has been further reduced. This is a report brought to you by the Silverlight government, please tune in at midday for your local update.”

Kyle is impressed. He had also heard whispers that the fertility rate, which was one of the few things not controlled by the government, was also increasing. It was to be expected of course. Male prowess nowadays was shockingly effective and the fun it brought was both desired and hallowed by the female population.

Even Kyle had a girlfriend, Lamina, whom he cherished very dearly. That was more than could be said of most other boyfriends, who often treated their co-dependents as objects; their only relevance was the fulfillment of their animalistic desires.

Even so, to Kyle, Lamina was something special. He couldn’t explain just what that meant, because there existed no word for it, but he felt it in him from the moment she had been assigned to him.

Finally after ten minutes of tiresome walking in the chilly winter atmosphere, Kyle arrives at his workplace, the “Faculty of Technological Promotion and Consumption”.

It was here that Kyle, as a computer expert was tasked with checking and maintaining the global computer systems. Although he wasn’t directly involved in the creation of applications, it was his job to check them and upload them for everybody’s relief and enjoyment.

The applications were a necessary part of the civilization. Without them, society would be a futile and gloomy place.

Today he was inspecting a new one which was due to hit the market on Friday. “Lust V3.4” it was called. Supposedly by using this application, it made people desire another person even more intensely. This in turn would lead to more exciting mating sessions.

To be fair, Kyle didn’t completely understand it himself. He already felt attracted to his girlfriend but reflecting upon the reactions of his co-citizens he did get an idea of how it could be worthwhile.

Kyle had always considered himself different. Some days he would wake up in the morning, full of energy and eager to do his work, other days he would grumble and be hard-fetched to even leave his Aedifice. Others on the other hand, would wake up in the morning and simply do their job. They would never complain or do it with any greater desire or passion. Systematically they would work their 13 hour jobs from 7 until 8, return home, prepare dinner, interview their children on their progress at the state school, then at 10 o clock they would lay down to sleep, ready for another day of work.

In between they would chat to neighbours and exercise smaller activities, but these interactions wouldn’t disturb their cycle too drastically.

It was the same every day. Kyle couldn’t understand it. He invested himself so much into everything he did, but they just seemed so robotic. Though it didn’t really affect him, Kyle always felt annoyed by the other citizens’ way of life. He didn’t feel like he could connect to them. How could he get close to someone who didn’t care if he existed or not?

At 8 o’clock sharp he leaves the office and sets out for home. Alessandro, his neighbor from downstairs approaches him and they exchange greetings.

“Hey Kyle, how was work?”

-“Boring, as usual, though you can look forward to a new application soon. I believe it could be quite an interesting one.”

Alessandro laughs: “Why do you work there? You don’t use the applications. In fact I bet you’re the only one in the whole world who doesn’t.”

Kyle, slightly irritated, tries to keep his cool. He has never liked Alessandro and right now he was starting to get on his nerves.

-“You are right. I don’t use them. I don’t need them.”

Again Alessandro laughs: “Oh of course, sorry. I bet you Lizzie would enjoy it though. That feeling, using the “Orgasm” app, how could you go without it? Maybe that’s why she looks so unfulfilled…"

Kyle could feel the anger boiling in him now. Surely if Alessandro had any brains he would notice the precarious situation he was getting himself into, but alas, he continued, much to Kyle’s annoyance.

“You know, I’m what you could consider a good neighbor, if you want; I can take her under my wing for a bit. Jennifer seems content; maybe I could show your girl some pleasure as well."

Kyle’s eyes were twitching. No use. He knew before he actually did it, that he was going to hit Alessandro between the eyes.

He had hit a nerve. He had offended him and he had offended his girlfriend. Now he was mad.

Alessandro hit the ground hard. He hadn’t been expecting anything when the punch came. Kyle had had enough.

“Shut up! Don’t speak about my girlfriend like that!”

Alessandro got up on his feet. He stared at Kyle the same way he had looked at him before. Not differently.

“I’m sorry dude. I didn’t mean to offend anybody. Next time use words; that punch actually hurt.”

With those words, Alessandro walks right past him and continues on, not looking back.

Kyle watches him with incomprehension until he disappears into the distance. He had never hit anybody before, but he had often pictured doing it. Surely if someone were to hit him, he would hit them back. But Alessandro had seemed indifferent to the whole situation. Not once had he shown any sign of emotion; no aggression, anger, or even hate.

Kyle thinks on it the whole way home. He could come to no other conclusion than that he was different from the others.

Lizzie greets him at the entrance to their apartment as usual; a quick peck on the lips before leading him through the door into their open living room.

All apartments inside one single Aedifice were identical. The apartments in Kyle’s Aedifice had grey walls with two windows which made the place resemble more a container than a place where civilized people lived in.

Obviously the things were arranged differently depending on what you could afford, but so far all the apartments that Kyle had been in (6 in total) had had about the general shape.

Directly in front of the entrance, about 5 meters on are two couches arranged in front of a nice plasma television. In front of the television there is a glass table with an ashtray on it and a book which reads “The Golden Age”.

To the right of the entrance is the kitchen area which contained a fridge, an oven and some shelves, all full of kitchen equipment.

To the left of the entrance, there is a desk and a computer and a desk which Kyle would use to read his emails and have conversations with various associates through Facebook 3000.

Along the right wall is a small room which is separated by a small wall. It is here that both Lizzie and Kyle sleep at night and where Kyle keeps all his boxes of provisions.

Finally in the left corner of the room, also separated by a small wall, is the bathroom.

Other than that, there was a small rug to step onto when entering the premise and a small teddy bear lying on the floor that their neighbor (not Alessandro) had given them in anticipation of a child, even though that had never worked out .

Kyle was still touched by Alessandro’s indifference. He had always sensed that the others were different, but he hadn’t really expected it to that extent. In fact only recently had he even started analyzing the other people and had come to the conclusion that they in fact didn’t really care.

That’s why they used the applications. Kyle didn’t want to seem rash, but he had sensed that he possessed something the others didn’t. They would use applications like “Happiness” to feel a sort of exuberance or “Love” to feel affectionate to their girlfriends. If they didn’t use these applications however, they may as well have been machines. But Kyle felt these things even without the apps. In fact he had never used one in his life. That was the ironic part of him working as a programmer.

While other people needed the “Sleep” application to end their day and drift off into slumber, Kyle would just need to lie down and let his mind drift off. That was why he found his job so fascinating.

But lately it was getting harder and harder for Kyle. He had never cared, but lately it had been weighing on him. He was different. He was an outcast. The black sheep of civilization. If anybody ever found out that he didn’t just refuse applications but didn’t actually need them at all, would they persecute him? Or would they approach it just as indifferently as they approached their everyday lives? Or respect him?

-“Do you love me?”

“Of course not Kyle, you know the “Love” application is only available on the 14th of February. Today’s “menu du jour” is “Thrill”, laughs Lamina.

These words sting Kyle like an angry hornet. Of course he had expected this answer. But it hurts nevertheless. He runs into the bathroom, tears in his eyes. Lamina doesn’t understand what is going on. She shrugs and goes over to the oven to cook the evening meal.

Kyle sits down by the side of the bed. He hammers his pillow repeatedly, cursing for the first time his emotions for the pain they have caused.

After five minutes he notices something from the corner of his eye. A letter, poking out from in between his night stand and the bed.

What was a letter doing in his room? Who had written it? He knows that questions won’t answer themselves so he grabs it uncertainly and opens it.

What he finds inside is a dirty note with just two lines scribbled onto it with unclean handwriting.

“You are different from the others. You are the only one.”

Kyle looks up from the letter. He carefully folds it and slips it into his front pocket.

The handwriting had seemed familiar, like he had read it sometime before in a distant dream.

He chuckles. “Dream” was the ultimate application, the luxury one reserved only for the richest of the citizens. And he, simple Kyle Sutchet had access to them without the need for spending tens of thousands of Uros.

Still the letter dawns on him and he reflects upon what he just read.

On the one hand it told him something he already he knew but on the other hand it confirmed the one thing he feared. He truly was completely alone.



Part 2: “After the first blush of sin comes its indifference.” (Henry David Thoreau)





Lady Julia Schneidr walks down the dark alleyway, in the direction of the King’s Hall.

Of course the King’s Hall was a secret building; from the outside it looked like a run-down factory and since nobody had a use for a dilapidated factory, it was completely ignored by the simple folk.

The King’s Hall had many functions: political congregations, imprisonment, torture and it housed the Forgotten Library.

Today was a special day. Today there was a trial going on to decide the fate of one particular.

Trials were rare nowadays. Julia remembers the beginning of the new regime where they had been held quite often: people had somehow thought they needed to rebel. They had come to the incomprehensible conclusion that the government wasn’t correct and that they needed to correct it. Well, they had been quickly silenced. One after another. Nowadays nobody rebelled. After all why should they. They had everything they wanted. They weren’t unhappy. They didn’t care. So, why should they bother to change something that was both inevitable and absolutely pointless?

Julia is about to turn the corner, when suddenly something grabs her leg. A human. A tramp. Scum.

“Please, I am hungry! We’re all hungry and we have nowhere to live!,” he pleads with the woman.

She looks at him with disgusted indifference and kicks him hard in the face.

The man falls backwards, blood gushing from his nose. As he lies on the ground whimpering, she continues to kick him, screeching: “Disgusting thing, how dare you touch me! I am a high-ranking politician of the Silverlight government. It is strictly forbidden to even come close to me, don’t you know that?”

As the man stops twitching, she gives him one final hard kick, brushes the hair from her face and moves on. She checks her watch. She is surprised to see that no application was currently activated. She’s sure that she had previously activated the “Anticipation” application in preparation for the trial but she shrugs and continues.

As she continues along the road, garbage containers and paper littering the road she reflects upon the man.

The “Anticipation” only now kicks in and she gets a sudden feeling of excitement to wonder if the man is unconscious or dead. She would have to wait until the authorities patrolled the streets, removing any dead bodies and executing anybody who would tarnish the image of the city’s flawless image.

Rules are rules. If they aren’t respected, punishment must be dealt. No point in holding a trial for a bum. Everyone knows that they are inferior. Now Julia would have to wash her clothes.

The city wasn’t small. The official statistics read 25,9 million humans, but in reality they had already long reached the 26 million mark. The government had run out of space. “This is what happens when we don’t take control of the situation”, Julia thinks. “If we aren’t there to shepherd the simple people, everything falls into disarray.” So many people have to live without a home. Of course they were assigned to desolate areas, infected areas of the old city.

Nobody would notice them there. And if they attempted to try to reach out to the normal population they would be incinerated or shot anyway. Whichever more practical.

Besides, the biological infection which still lingered from the Third World War meant that most of them died within weeks anyway.

The bio weapons used during the Final War were powerful. They stopped your digestive system from working properly. It meant that anybody infected by the toxic air, which hung heavily over the un-quarantined parts of the city, was unable to assimilate nutrition and would therefore die rapidly. That was positive for the government, although it was also slightly unfortunate that the world outside the city was inhospitable, that way they would have been able to control an even larger area of the world.

Julia finally arrives in front of the abandoned factory. It is large. It is long. It looks like it could fall apart any minute, but that’s just a deliberate illusion to keep intruders out.

She puts her hand on the scanner. The two large, rusted metal doors slide open automatically.

She steps into the darkness of the facility. Instantly a light switches on to reveal a very long corridor.

Julia walks down the corridor confidently, excitement for the upcoming trial bubbling within her.

She passes the Forgotten Library. It is here that all the books of the world are stored. Since nobody bothered to read anything anymore except small paragraphs and single sentences, the government had conveniently placed all books, novels and anything similarly pointless into this room and labeled it “The Forgotten Library.”

The government had free access to the books, but just like the common people, they couldn’t be bothered to waste time reading endless sentences and pages either.

Once, Julia out of curiosity had tried to read a book. She had randomly selected a book from the Literature Section and had started reading poems from a collection called the Songs of Innocence and Experience by someone called William Blake.

She had found that it wasn’t very long at all, but that it contained words mashed together that made no sense.

She had read over it many times, but could not understand the sense in that so-called “poem”.

After a few reads, she came to the smart conclusion that this poem was pointless and had put it back. She tried a new poem, this time by John Keats and had the same realization.

She had then pulled books down from the shelves, one by one; Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Donne, Browning, all the same.

This is where she came to the final conclusion that poetry was infantile, senseless, nonsense.

With a famous government motto in her head “What is the point of the pointless?,” she decided to take it into her own hands to get rid of that dribble. So she gathered all the books from the poetry and literature sections together in a heap and used them to light a great fire. Even today she is still proud of her masterful deed. Only decent material remained.

Julia continues along the long corridor. She passes the “Medical and Scientific Progress” on her left, a science lab dedicated to inventing new cures and medicines, and then the “Application Advisory Center”, a room used mainly for discussion and brainstorming for new application ideas to drive the population in the direction the government desires.

She also passes some closed doors, each marked with a particular name; the various offices of low-ranking government employees.

“Disposable employees, serving a cause they don’t really understand”, Julia thinks as she reaches the end of the corridor, as she puts her hand on a pad on the wall.

Two doors slide open to reveal a small and compact elevator.

A blue hologram appears on the wall with three buttons and Julia presses the button marked 1st Floor.

The first floor, or Floor 1, is for the higher ranking executives. It is also here that the more important constitutions are kept.

Julia thinks about the trial and the application gives her excitement. She can’t wait.

She steps out of the elevator and practically runs to her office.

She presses her hand on a dial and the door slides open to reveal her luxurious workplace. A desk in the middle of the room with a virtual computer projector (VCP) on it.

She turns the device on and it creates a hologram of a wall with files on it.

She touches the hologram and the files react to her touch. She drags two files to the center of the virtual desktop and places them on a virtual space called “Print”.

A second later, two thin pieces of paper come out of a small slit in the VCP main body and Julia snatches them rapidly.

Two notes concerning the trial sent to her by the Overlord.

It is only now that she holds the details of the trial in her hand that she sees who the accused actually is and what his crime is.

A large title reads “Crime: Emotions” and this makes Julia snigger menacingly.

She feels no anger, no jealousy or hate, but having the right to judge a perpetrator of such a crime is an honor for her.

“Emotions” as the government classifies it, is a reference to people who don’t need applications. People who don’t feel what the government wants them to feel, but in fact can feel anything.

“Not even I have such freedom and look at how important I am”, thinks Julia.

People with such freedom have the power to destabilize the utopia which is New London.

Therefore they are considered a threat and showing emotions freely is considered a crime.

Underneath the title is a large description of what the perpetrator did exactly but Julia doesn’t care. A crime is a crime, no need for details or petty things like that.

Her eyes dart to the top left side of the page and she reads the name out loud.

She plays with the name for awhile before the effect of the application kick in again and she is overcome with a sudden wave of excitement.

Invigorated, she screams into the empty space of the office: “Prepare to be judged. Prepare for your trial. You, who think yourself better with your emotions, you will see. Kyle Sutchet prepare to be judged!

She laughs to herself, hardly able to contain her exhilaration.

She turns the page and her excitement turns to ecstasy.

The page is empty except for three words printed largely in the center of the page:

Subject guilty: Execution.



Part 3: It is obvious that we can no more explain a passion to a person who has never experienced it than we can explain light to the blind. (T. S. Eliot)



(Earlier)



Kyle had cried. He had never felt so alone and so without hope. Deep down he knew this truth of course. But to have it confirmed like this was like sucking all light from the world and replacing it with a void of barren aspiration.

He sits down on the double bed and stares at the letter for a long time. He doesn’t even realize Lizzie enter into the room uncertainly and call him for dinner.

She stares at him, his tears still fresh on his cheeks, as if he were some kind of alien.

Before she can say anything, he quickly interjects: “I’m coming straight away, you go along.”

She leaves the room, completely unchanged.

Kyle stands up on shaky legs. He wipes his tears away. “I can do this” he repeats to himself over and over again. “It’s not so bad; this just shows your special. You’re different, better than the others.”

But Kyle doesn’t feel better than the others. He feels alone. A feeling all too well known.

Then a thought appears and a plan unfolds before him. Why should Kyle be different? He is human after all. And so are the others. So maybe the others can feel but they just don’t know how to.

Maybe if he talks to them and reaches out to them, they will be able to access these kinds of feelings without the need of an app. After all, the apps are really quite limited compared to the real thing.

If he really was special, maybe he could rectify the banality of life and do some good. At least then he wouldn’t be completely alone.

Kyle leaves the room and joins his partner at the dinner table. Spaghetti, like every Wednesday.

Neither of them speaks while eating, Lizzie systematically eating her meal while Kyle is deep in thought. After a while Kyle speaks: “Dear, how are you feeling today?”

Lamina casually finishes off the food in her mouth and says “Relax”.

This upsets Kyle. She is no closer than anyone to being free from the applications; the word she uttered reflects nothing of her own inner feelings, but rather the application currently downloaded on her personal watch, firmly fastened to her left wrist so as to make removing it impossible.

Kyle repeats his question with an added tone of desperation. Lamina looks at him surprised. “What is wrong with him today”, she thinks.

She repeats exactly the same thing in the same tone as before. This further unnerves Kyle.

He loses his calm and shouts: “But don’t you feel anything else?. Don’t you feel anything more, more personal? Don’t you love me?”

Lamina stands up and backs away from him. Even if she doesn’t have any emotions, she is obviously surprised by this unorthodox behavior.

She stutters a bit, looking for correct words for this situation. But she cannot find any. She doesn’t understand what Kyle is saying. She doesn’t know what he is trying to get at.

Kyle continues: “Don’t you feel something inside you, as if it were rising from your stomach. Do you really not feel anything at all?”

It is clear Lamina doesn’t know what’s going on. Kyle curses. He had thought that it would be easier than this. That it would be like jolting her memory. Maybe he had made a fatal miscalculation. Maybe he really was the only person in the city who understood what it meant to feel whatever he wanted and not be reliant on applications, carefully manufactured and controlled by the authorities.

Kyle also stands up and carefully makes his way towards Lamina. She continues to eye him without expression, though with a certain degree of logically calculated weariness.

As he stands exactly in front of her, he grabs her and wraps his arms around her. The word “hug” flashes in his mind even though he has never given or received one in his life.

Lamina doesn’t understand this action. She wonders what the point of it is. She just stands there and Kyle doesn’t even bother to be disappointed.

After awhile he pulls his arms back and the two stare deep into each other’s eyes. Lamina’s expression is blank.

Kyle’s expression is overflowing with emotion; love for this girl who will never be able to reciprocate his feelings, fear of whatever he must be, sadness caused by his hopeless situation.

No application could have replicated his gaze. It was pure. It was human.

Kyle bows his head and Lamina, sensing that the strange ritual is over, picks up the empty plates and carries them over to the sink. Kyle remains motionless.

Eventually he turns around to face his partner. She is busy washing up the cutlery and looks completely unconcerned, as if she hadn’t just been a part of the scene before.

“Please, tell me you love me”, Kyle pleads desperately one last time.

Lamina stares at him for a long time. When she finally speaks, her voice seems changed. Deeper, as if she had been crying internally.

“I don’t know what you mean, I am sorry.”

A single small tear makes its way from her eye and rolls down the side of her left cheek.

She continues to stare at him and for the first time, Kyle identifies something more in her eyes than simple indifference. She actually seems "sad".

They continue their stare for ten seconds until suddenly Lizzie jolts, as if awakening from a trance. She seems confused by the tear on her cheek and wipes it away. She returns to her old self.

“But she felt something”, Kyle thinks to himself with excitement.

Kyle leaves Lizzie to do the kitchen work and returns to the bedroom. He looks where he found the letter, half-expecting to find another letter or something similar. He finds nothing.

Next he looks through all his drawers, but of course there is nothing there. How could there be?

He sits down on the bed, mildly disappointed when suddenly he gets an inkling to look under the bed.

“Who ever looks under the bed”?, Kyle wonders out loud. It was such a small space between the bed and the floor that not even a person could fit under there so it was unpractical to store things there. And since it was impractical, it was unheard of.

He bends down and stretches his hand out. It is dark underneath the bed and he has trouble seeing anything. He randomly feels out until he senses something hard against his fingers.

He grabs it and pulls it out. It resembles one of the government’s guidelines, with all its pages and hard cover, but this one seems bulkier.

The cover seems to be bound of leather and all it contains on it are three words “The Holy Bible.”

Kyle opens it up and starts to read. Never before has he seen so many words on one single page.

He notices that it seems divided into many different parts, each with a different name.

He opens up a random page and his eyes fix on a single passage. He reads it out loud:

“And I stood upon the sand of the sea, and saw a beast rise up out of the sea, having seven heads and ten horns, and upon his horns ten crowns, and upon his heads the name of blasphemy.”

He doesn’t understand anything of what he just read. The words seem to make sense, but not one that he can understand.

He feels a prickling sensation on the back of his neck and he spins around. Lizzie is staring at him. She stares at him. But not like before. This stare seems devoid of any kind of sympathy but if her expressionless stare were to resemble any kind of feeling, than it would mostly echo with fear. She stares at him and asks with shaky words: “What did you just read”?

Kyle repeats the passage, unknowing. Her eyes widen further. She stammers: “Blasphemy. That is defying the light.”

She seems to mutter a few incomprehensible words. Kyle wonders if she even knows what she’s saying.

All of a sudden she stops and she leaves the room without saying another word.

Kyle can hardly believe what just happened. Lizzie seemed affected by the book as if she was grasped by some strange force.

Excited, he hurries out of the apartment, forgetting even to say goodbye to Lamina, who seems to have vanished.

He races down the hallway and almost jumps into the elevator. “Sixth floor, descending to Ground Floor,” a robotic voice reports.

Kyle exits the elevator and encounters Alessandro. He smiles at him and greets him with a warm handshake.

Only then does he notice “The Holy Bible” tucked underneath his left arm. He enquires to what it is. Kyle doesn’t answer. He opens it at the same page as before and rereads the passage.

“And I stood upon the sand of the sea, and saw a beast rise up out of the sea, having seven heads and ten horns, and upon his horns ten crowns, and upon his heads the name of blasphemy.”

Alessandro just stares at him. Then he steps back.

-“Blasphemy. That is defying the light.”

The same words Lizzie had said. He then continues to mutter some more incomprehensible words, the same as she had done.

Kyle just stands there looking at him, completely dumbstruck. Did this strange artifact with the leather cover contain some magical powers? Or was it something darker, more sinister? All of a sudden Alessandro stops. His gaze is directed at the floor. He doesn’t move a muscle.

Kyle doesn’t dare break the silence or touch his neighbor. All of a sudden, Alessandro’s arm twitches. Then he shakes his head and directs his gaze straight at Kyle. A gaze not so expressionless anymore. A gaze full of anger. The same feeling Kyle had had earlier that day.

He whispers in a tone full of animosity:

“You have gone against the light. You are a traitor!

Before Kyle can say anything, Alessandro’s fist collides with his face, knocking him off balance.

Another fist hits its mark and Kyle falls backwards. His vision is fuzzy and he can feel the blood trickling down his face. A rough outline of a face appears in front of his eyes. Alessandro.

He feels his breath on his ear as he whispers into it. This time the words aren’t full of hate. They’re full of feeling.

I know what you are now. That’s why you don’t use your applications. You are a freak. And you will be put down, for the good of all us; humans!”

Kyle has no strength to defend himself as he sees the shadow of Alessandro’s foot manifest itself in front of him. All of a sudden, with a clean and thrifty movement, it comes down on Kyle’s face.

Blackness. A void of emotions and thought. Only silent darkness ensues.



Kyle jolts awake. His head hurts and his nose feels strange. Only then does he realize it's broken.

He tries to open his eyes but everything is blurry. He focuses his gaze. "Where am I?"

Dead? Words from “The Holy Bible” echo in his mind.

“For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first.”

With a sudden pang, Kyle wonders where it is. It was obviously taken from him when he was knocked out.

Kyle concentrates all his energy and is able to raise his upper body. He is lying on some kind of white bed in a completely white room.

Everything is tiled, even the roof. Other than the tall but thin bed-like object in the center of the room, there is nothing.

Kyle notices that he is connected to the bed with cables, three in each arm, going into the back of the bed, just above where the white pillow is.

He yanks them out with great determination and propels himself forward of the platform.

He stumbles and nearly falls. He stares around. Nothing at all. The walls of his habitation were already quite bleak but nothing compared to this room.

What is it? A prison? Or really dead?

He has no clue and his ignorance drives him insane.

His eyes are still a bit fuzzy but they do their job. He continues to scan the miniature empty room for a door. At first he can’t see one until he notices something different on the wall across from him. Attached to the wall and in the shape of a hand print, at first glance it seems white, but as Kyle approaches it, he notices that a distinction. Next to it a pad looking like a hand print.

Instinctively he puts his hand on the pad. A painful shock emanates through his body and approximatly  half a minute later; Kyle didn’t count, five people run into the room.

They grab Kyle and straighten him up. They’re all wearing uniforms. Only then does Kyle realize where he must be: The headquarters of the Silverlight government.

Which must mean he is in big trouble. Kyle attempts to walk by himself, but he stumbles, his feet still numbed by the electric shock. The guards offer to help him, but Kyle refuses.

He knows they don’t care if he falls or not. Caring is an emotion and he seriously doubts that these people have that app installed at the moment.

Kyle leaves the room and realizes he just stepped out into a large corridor. He turns around and spots a sign on the wall. “Nerbold’s office – Containment Room 1”

A guard pushes Kyle forward out into the middle of the hallway.

Four of the guards follow him and surround him. The final guard, who must be Nerbold, pushes his personal watch to the sign and in front of his eyes, the open containment facility transforms itself into a simple office with a sole desk in the middle. He then pushes his hand into a similar looking pad as the one inside and the door closes itself automatically.

The guard Nerbold catches Kyle’s glimpse and shrugs: “Unauthorized personnel will be zapped”

He then signals for Kyle to walk forwards. Kyle does so without thinking. He is dumbstruck and lost in his own thoughts.

Alessandro’s last words echo in his mind. “And you will be put down, for the good of all us humans.”

Kyle doesn’t bother resisting, as he knows there is no point. He notices the large laser projectile firing weapons in the guards’ belts. He knows they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him if he tried anything unpleasant. Their jobs are solely based on logic with no sentimental impetus at all.

On his long walk down the corridor Kyle passes many more similar offices. He can’t help but notice all the ridiculous names of the people on this floor. Tazaret, Fingling, Margerine. He had never heard these names before, and yet here they were, printed into small signs plastered on the walls.

The hallway is large. Kyle had never seen anything this long before. Something so long but so empty. No plants, no carpets, nothing devoid of purpose. Not even dust on the floor.

He reaches the elevator and steps into it. There is barely room for him and four of the guards; Nerbold has to turn back. A hologram with three large transparent buttons appears on the wall.

A guard presses the button marked -1.

The elevator makes a lurching noise as it starts its descent.

It reminds Kyle of a word he had read in his “The Holy Bible” but had never really understood until now.

“Right in to Hell”, thinks Kyle acceding to his demise.





Part 4: “We Are Human” (Colloquial Saying)



-“Guilty of emotions, a long ago forbidden craft!”

Kyle is shocked. Earlier that day he hadn’t even known what a crime was. Or a punishment.

And now already he was being “convicted” of something he couldn’t even help.

He stands alone in a very large room, with only his guards and a tall woman standing erect in front of some kind of podium. Her posture indicates high status and her voice reveals great arrogance. Kyle can’t even speak. He doesn’t understand what is going on.

He recalls the incident of how he had been punched in the face by Alessandro.

The arrogant woman at in the front of the hall continues to speak in a booming voice, the tonality of her malicious voice echoing off the walls and creeping into the deepest crevices of his brain. He is afraid.

“In the olden days trials like these were held in front of a large crowd. But this changed of course, seeing as it would be pointless to admit a crowd; their opinion would be clear from the start anyway.”

The woman bends forward to make sure Kyle gets every single word.

“There is nowhere to run. It is we who control you. You can try anything; even your little attempts at reverse-brainwashing. We will always outwit you. We are the law. We are everything. We are your Gods!”

The word “Gods” flash in Kyle’s mind. He had often seen that word in “The Holy Bible", but never used in the plural tense.

“Blasphemy”, he screams, without even realizing the words as they slip through his vocal cords.

The woman stops dead in her tracks. She stares at Kyle for a long time. Her eyes are expressionless, but Kyle swears he can detect some kind of fire burning brightly in the back of her eye sockets. A disturbing sort of enthusiasm at his impending demise.

The woman slowly steps from the far end of the hall to Kyle’s position. Her posture doesn’t reveal any sign of emotion; with a straight back and slow and large steps, she approaches the accused. As soon as she is standing a mere breath away from him, she grabs his head with her left hand. Her nails dig into his cheek and Kyle can feel the blood rushing throughout his body.

“Slaves will remain silent, no matter how privileged they are. In the end, he is just a broken lamb in the flock, a nuisance, waiting to be silenced for good.”

She yells at the guards to take them to the Overlord. Before they can march him out the door however, she gets one last word in as a whisper planted deep into Kyle’s conscience:

"The human template will remain pure."

He is escorted back into the elevator and one of the guards pulls a key out of his pocket, inserts it into a small key lock and the elevator goes rushing up the shaft.

“Second Floor, The Overlord’s Quarters.”, the guard says in a voice that may has well have been robotic.

Kyle is shoved out of the elevator and the doors close again. Kyle is all alone. Except for the man in front of him.

Clad in black, with a red scarf and a golden crown, the Overlord stands mere feet away from Kyle, exhibiting confidence and a strength that Kyle has never witnessed before.

But more importantly than that, this man doesn't have the expressionless eyes Kyle was used to seeing. The Overlord gestures to Kyle to sit down on a nearby sofa. The Overlord does the same across from him. “Welcome Kyle Sutchet, to the Light’s Polyform. I am the Overlord, head of state, but you can call me John Vitchell.”

Kyle only half pays attention. He has already accepted his death, something that wasn’t too hard considering the half-life he had been living anyway, and now he stares around the large empty space as if he were on another world. A world with only him and the Overlord, John Vitchell.

After a minute of silence, Kyle musters up his courage and poses the question that had been on his mind for awhile now.

“Why is this happening to me?”

The Overlord sighs: “I am truly sorry. But you exhibited emotions. Twice. That is a crime strictly forbidden nowadays. Probably because it reminds us of our failures. And yet regardless, the punishment is execution. The rectifying of our mistakes...

Kyle bows his head. Tears swell up in his eyes. He had to think about Lizzie. That hurt.

He stares at the Overlord defiantly. With nothing to lose and feeling his blood boiling, he speaks in hoarse but steady voice: “So you set me up! You gave me the message and left me with “The holy Bible” as an attempt to get me to show my emotions!

The Overlord bows his head as if sorry. Kyle doesn’t let him speak, as he continues, his anger bubbling to the surface: You and your government. Controlling everything as if you were better than the rest. As if you were some Arian race!. The applications, the “guideline code”, everything just meant to manipulate your own, human, kind.”

Kyle is practically screaming now. The Overlord doesn’t speak. He just stares at Kyle solemnly. This is unlike his experience with the previous woman. The Overlord remains calm and doesn’t touch Kyle. He just stands still, his expression reflecting many different emotions, from a sense of pride to certain remorse.

Kyle stops and buries his head in his hands. It is then that the Overlord speaks in a gentle voice.

And it is in that moment that Kyle understands the man in front of him. It is not an angry voice, it is the voice of man who has seen too much pain, hurt too many people, hated himself for way too long.

“I did not lead you into a trap. I did not frame you. In fact, I tried to save you. You see, I told you that you broke the rules twice. With that I mean, you were trialed once before.

What was this man talking about?

“I vetoed your execution and in its place your memory was wiped in the hope that such an incident would never happen again. Unfortunately this time, that option is out of my hands.

Have you noticed though? I am very much like you.I feel you".

Kyle looks at him. John Vitchell really did have something in his eyes. Life.

“Here is a little history lesson for you my dear boy. Maybe then you will not forgive, but maybe understand my doings.”

All of a sudden the lights go dark. A large round hologram appears in the middle of the room.

Most of the hologram is blue but there are also lots of specks of green and brown.

“Earth 2018,” John explains. “One year before the Final War.”

The hologram blinks out for a second and is replaced with a similar hologram, except this time, the specks of green and brown are on fire. Burning. The blue is dulled by some kind of smog. The scene looks horrible.

For 6 years this war waged. At the beginning it was small. Then it soon evolved into a World War. World War 3 it was called. Nobody knows who started it. It doesn’t matter. Pretty much everybody died. Almost everything was wiped out. Nuclear warfare was used 3 years into the war. A lot of the surface of the world was devastated, ruined for all eternity. But that wasn’t enough. The war raged on. Radiation control programs and nuclear defence protocols made it possible for the various governments to continue the fight. For two further years the world remained nestled in a stalemate. Until our government created a new kind of weapon. A biologically enhanced gas which could be deployed in a single area and which would then infect the people, disabling their digestive systems and making them go insane.

It was thought to be controlled. But of course it wasn't. The military installations where they were initially used went down first. Then the war factories and finally the civilian population. Our weapon wiped out the bulk of our race.

Except for a couple. The city which deployed the bio-weapon had strong countermeasures and they survived the apocalypse. We survived the apocalypse. But at a price. Our population was devastated and we were the last humans left alive. We had been warned. World War 2, the Cold War, the Blaze, all of these were events where it was clear in the past that we had to stop our aggressive natures. Preventive measure had to be set in place. Brainwashing at a young age to remove any slice of hate, intolerance and everything harmful to our ways of life. You know the side-effects. But it was necessary. “

John Vitchell pauses to take a long breather. The hologram had already changed forms many times, but Kyle wasn’t paying attention to it anymore. He was completely engrossed by the story. He could almost see the events unfolding before his eyes. The people scared. Dying. Scared. Hopeless.

Remorseful. And regretting everything they had ever done.

John continues his story: “We used a very specific kind of brainwashing. Faith. We used a complex technique derived from using a Christian Bible to seal their emotions in a closed part of the brain.” He pulls something out of his pocket which could only have been "The Holy Bible.

“That’s why using that book is very dangerous. Look at the world. It is hell on earth. If people were able to see past the web of lies we feed them, they would destroy the last remnant of humanity.” He sighs. “It’s better to live in ignorant peace for the last couple of years anyway.”

John looks deeply into Kyle’s eyes and continues with a voice unmistakably full of sadness.

I can read your thoughts. You are puzzled. But that’s obvious. I am the only person who knows about the end of the world. You see, our quarantine measures may have seemed effective at first, but the bio-weapon gas used 30 years ago during that war has not been halted. It is slowly creeping into the city. In less than five years it will have consumed the entire planet, including us. The planet will be devoid of life. Forever. That gas will never leave. In centuries aliens will land on our planet and will never be able to fathom that it was once inhabited by us. We will become relics of a  dead planet.

Without our culture, we really are just fossils anyway.

It is my duty as head of state to secure peace until the final end. And that means your execution.

Kyle bows his head. He had known it was inevitable.

“I know what you’re thinking. But it’s pointless. There is nothing to do. I almost admire your willpower. I picked the easier road instead of fighting. And maybe that was my weakness, my mistake. Maybe it’s a mistake to not try now. But I can’t. I’m sorry. When you get to heaven, please tell my mother I love her. I will be watching her from my place in the deepest crevice of hell.”

Guards file into the room. Kyle is lead through an inconspicuous brown wooden door.

Inside he finds another empty albeit smaller room. All that it contains is a shower encased in a glass box.

Or at least Kyle thought it was a shower. As Kyle is moved closer to it and the door opens up automatically, he notices this is not a shower. It is some kind of execution device.

Kyle is pushed into the box. The door slams shut. Kyle hammers on the glass door but it doesn’t budge. Only then does Kyle realize that it’s not even glass. It’s some kind of material harder than steel that Kyle had never even heard of before. Extending to the roof, there is not even one crack or hole in it that would have enabled even a rat to flee. Kyle is as good as dead and he knows it.

John Vitchell beckons for the guards to leave the room. They obey. The door is closed behind them.

John approaches the deadly shower. He confesses that it is something called an incineration chamber.

As soon as he says the code word, the device will be activated. After a countdown of ten seconds, a concentration of energy will be released through the tube which is designed to resemble a shower and will reduce Kyle to dust. It will be painless. Kyle won’t even know what hit him; he won't feel a thing.

Kyle attempts to plead for his life, but John turns around, because he cannot look into his fearful eyes. “Activate” he says in a shaky, unsteady, but loud and determined voice. Lights flash on as the death machine is activated.

10. “So that’s it”, Kyle thinks.

9. “Life seemed so short. Was there even a point?

8. “John is wrong. The world won’t end in a couple of years. It’s already gone.

7. “Why did everything have to happen like this. The Final War. The Silverlight government. Why did we kill each other?

6. “I’m probably lucky. I was always alone. Now I am absolved.

5. Kyle sighs, the countdown to his death a faint noise in the back of his mind.

4. “If I had not been captured, could I truly have saved the world?”

3. “Would I make the world a better place or ruin it further?

2. John isn’t evil. He is trying to do what’s best. Does that make me the actual bad person?

1. I miss Lizzie so much. Please let her survive! Through some miracle! Please let John be wrong! Please survive!

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