A Lesson Not Learned

I lived in an underground city, my living quarters just off the hall leading to our work place which was a large 'workstation' that dealt with managing the inner workings of the rest of the complex. My area of involvement was just one of many many others. My view of the overall picture was limited. I worked with the same people each day, maybe 5 or 6 main people and occasionally I had cause to chat with a few dozen others. But that was about it. I had little knowledge or interest with what went on beyond my area.

But there were rumors circulating. Some people from other complexes in far away areas said they felt sorry for us, that our latest development was built on unstable ground, that we were in danger. But I shrugged these rumors off. There were always naysayers. Like that guy in the other building who was always spouting off about dangers. Sure he was intelligent, in many ways a genius really. He knew all about the machinery and inner workings of things. When there was a complex problem, he was the one to fix it. But sadly, his personality was lacking. He just didn't know how to talk to people right, so they would understand, so they would listen. And he was always frustrated about something. After a while, nobody wanted to listen. You can't spend your whole life living in fear. At some point, you just have to get over it and move on.

And that was what I was doing as I quietly ate lunch in the communal eating room where food was always available. We selected and ate from a buffet area according to our tastes. Lunch was always a pleasant and relaxing experience. The area was spacious and never crowded. We didn't believe in inconvenience when it came to eating and we always had plenty of time. We were expected to do our work, but rarely to watch the clock unless there was an official meeting, although there was some social pressure to show up within reasonable time frames each morning in order to get work done, and not to stay out too late for other things. But overall, we all worked and ate on our own time.

Me, I was a night owl and often did much of my work late at night. And so was that genius guy down the hall, which is probably why I ended up talking to him more than most. Oh well, he wasn't a bad guy after all, just misunderstood. And he worked hard, that was good. Everyone respected him for that at least.

Then one day, I was in the hall and calamity struck. The floor lurched violently. I had a vision in my mind of what looked like a vast area of boiling mud. I don't know where or what that means, but at the time this information was significant and very very bad. It was worst case scenario.

We all ran. We had to get to the escape hatches. Many of us made it because we were so organized. We knew what to do, but all our of machines and materials and supplies were lost which was also a calamity, a huge setback. We could never get those things back now. Supplies and even some of us people were left behind. But only a few of us died, a very unlucky few where were caught in the immediate destruction and instantly crushed.

With one exception. The genius man had stayed behind. Somehow, I could feel his intense sadness. He could still leave now if he wanted, but he stubbornly chose not to go. For some reason I could not understand, he wanted to stay and die there even though it didn't make any sense. He told us his decision over the visual intercom after the rest of us were all already outside. He was solemn and he was sure he wanted to stay. None of us knew what to say. Perhaps he was just too sad. Maybe he was disappointed in himself or maybe he was disappointed in us that we did not listen to him. I felt guilty for that, because I had not listened to him. But that memory was painful and not one that I wanted to linger on. Maybe it was just too hard from him to have turned out to be right. It was better for him to just be disgruntled and crabby all the time than to have turned out to be all too horribly right. Maybe he felt there was more that he should have tried to do but didn't. Now he just didn't want to go on. And so he stayed. And he died.

We all went on with our lives of course. Now living on the surface again for a while, someone from far away was asking me about our life here and our complexes. I had an image in my mind of our systems, one living complex near the surface, another just below that connected by a small tubelike pathway, and then another below that, four in all, all huge of course and each a different shape according to the geology around us.

Except the fifth one was damaged and some damage at the lower part of the fourth one as well. We had some problems, but I I was still proud of all we had. You can't win them all and sometimes there are problems, minor setbacks, but we would overcome and move on. That's why I was up here now for a while. But they would work it out, they would fix it, because they knew what they were doing. They had told us so and I believed them. Because why would I not? They had done all this much for us already, things beyond my understanding but things I respected. I would go on doing my job as always of course. And things would work out. I was proud of my job and my people and our complexes, the decisions we had made and the bravery we had shown. We were all highly organized of course, and resilient, and that was something to be proud of.

But somewhere else in my mind, far away, another consciousness realized this pride was built on lack of understanding. And that nothing had been learned from the past tragedy and horror. Nothing would improve because the same flawed system was still in place. The man who had died in the damaged complex had died for nothing. Everything would go on the same as it always had. And this truly was sad.

Red Fear

I came into the room to assasinate him. Or should I say 'it.' Gender did not seem relevant but for the sake of discussion, I will call it a 'him.' He was a huge shaggy creature, maybe 10 feet high and lengthwise even bigger, shaped roughly like an elephant but with copious amounts of long wavy reddish fur all over, he stood on all fours with the head and elephantine trunk in the front. THe fur was so thick and fluffy that other anatomic details were obscured.

The creature was relaxed when I came in. My intentions did not seem of concern. Indeed, although I should have struck immediately, instead I dithered and began speaking with the creature. Soon, my intentions wavered. I didn't know why, but I knew I would not kill him. Dimly, I realized the creature was controlling my mind in some way. He took his long trunk and rubbed it gently on my back. The trunk was covered in the red fur but large black hard bumps stuck out from the wavy strands. Vaguely, I knew I had already lost. I was under its control.

The creature allowed me to live in his byzantine dimly lit underground facility. Level upon level of rooms and corridors were present and I was only familiar with a few. Most of the time, I was alone and rarely did I see any of my own kind or even anyone at all. SOmetimes, to keep myself entertained, I went into a large rectangular room made of a clear substance like glass that glowed a frosty white against the darkness of the rest of the facility. THere, I played a form of solo handball against the walls. I felt privileged to be so trusted by the creature.

Another time, visitors came to the facility. They were humans of my own kind and I let them in to visit, but in the back of my mind, I wondered if the creature would be unhappy with me.

It was not long after that I was riding an elevator up to another level and the doors opened out to a floor I had not intended. In the halls of this level, frightened humans huddled. I knew that my coming to this location was the will of the creature so I stepped out into the hall and allowed the elevator doors to close behind me. There was no going back.

I soon saw why the humans were frightened. THings were crawling at the edge of vision. THings skittered out from behind panels in the walls and then disappeared just as fast. They were behind us, in front of us, and in the walls and ceilings. My mind struggled to process them and sometimes I saw them as flattened deflated humans that scrabbled on all fours, but that was probably just an illusion. I didn't know what they were, but I knew they were fast moving, difficult to see, and intent on killing us.

I knew this challenge was set to me by the red shaggy creature, but I was sad to think that most if not all of the humans around me, untrained and ill prepared, would likely die, and even my own life was in grave danger. There was a good change that even with all my skill, I myself might not pass this test. And I accepted that.

End dream.

The Elevators

Tension consumed me. I must not make a mistake or even waver. If I did, everyone would notice. Everyone knew were to go and I must know as well. Up to room seven hundred something or maybe it was eight or nine? The number was fleeting in my mind and I struggled to grasp on to it more clearly. Into one of the millions of elevators I went, still unsure, still hoping I had chosen wisely. The numbers seemed right, the flow was acceptable, and so I had hope I had chosen correctly. One other was in the elevator beside me and she did not appear alarmed so things seemed to be going well. Like all of us, she was very tall and thin and wore loose clothing with vertical panels of various shades of brown and tan. As was expected, she completely ignored me and did not speak.

Finally, the elevator opened at the same time as dozens of other elevator doors on this floor and people simultaneously poured out into the hall and dodged around each other to reach their locations. I felt I was near, very near, and then one of the rooms felt right and I scurried in. I had found the right room with the right number. No one else was in the room, just a table and a few chairs, all carpeted like the floors and walls in subtle shades of brown with hints of mauve. My tension ebbed substantially. The hardest part was over. Now I could start my work day which involved some kind of relaxed concentration.

At the end of the day, after exactly half the time of our planet's day/night cycle, my shift came to an end and the choreographed dash would repeat itself in reverse, but this time with slightly less tension on my part. Now I would take the route back to my room and I was more familiar with that route. I was less likely to make a mistake. Surely, I could find my own room! I concentrated. What was the number? 168 I think it is. And eventually, I was back. Inside were three of the long rectangular carpeted tables that in this room served as beds. Mine was nearest the window. I did not speak to the others of my room. It would not have been polite. Instead, I gazed out our window at the monstrous sparkling rectangular skyscrapers around us, all that was visible against the grey blue sky.

In the morning, the cycle would repeat, except I had been sitting on my bed day dreaming when the other two of my room left. I hadn't noticed as they passed the others in the hall. Now the lead person of the others was in my room and staring at me in shock. I had not passed them in the hall as I should. I was still here in the room. I had committed a monstrous faux paus. Now standing in front of me, he said, "I will chase you out of here," as which point my attention snapped back and fear coursed through me. I jumped up and ran out of the room.

But it was too late, the damage had already been done. I realized when he said he would chase me out, he meant permanently. And now I was out of sync with my tasks. I struggled to remember my destination but the number would not become clear to me. I passed through halls and into an elevator but then sensed the disturbance of those around me. The flow was not right. I was making the numbers unbalanced. I felt hopeless and scared but did my best to look calm and under control at all times just as society dictated.

Briefly, I considered offering to do a favor for the one who was angry at me, but then I looked at my records. How had I let it get so bad? I realized on my record labeled 168, I had countless transgressions stacked up on the top denoted by rectangles and squares of various sizes and bright garish colors, blue, green, orange, yellow. Another favor would mean yet another transgression and I simply could not afford that. And now I was hopelessly out of sync and could not find my room. The halls around me were empty. Everyone had found their place except me.

My life was over.

Suddenly, I got the idea that I would go to the top, to the special floors on the top. No one had ever been there that I knew of and I had no idea what I would find there. But it seemed the only thing to do. I got onto the elevator and signaled to go to the top section. An overseer behind a small desk in the hall was surprised by my choice and looked up inquiringly. I held myself proudly and told her with a confidence that I did not feel that, "I am going to the top." It was the ultimate act of arrogance that I had now embarked. No one ever went to the top!

To my surprise, the overseer spoke to me again, even though etiquette did not allow for such unnecessary chatter. She muttered low, probably so others would not hear her inappropriate talk, and she mumbled words of encouragement and consolation! What things to say! I was not sure how to respond to such strange statements so I ignored her. What did she mean by that anyway? Not only were they unnecessary statements but such strange ones at that! I turned my mind to what I might find above me.

And then the dream ended.

You are All Evil

I approach the woman behind the counter and she says to me, "Oh I know you! You are evil!"

I am surprised. "What?" I say, as confusion mixes with slowly kindling anger at this insult.

"You are evil and so is your whole group." she says, "That's what they told me. Everyone knows that." And then she stands there watching me as placidly as a glacier in a gentle snow fall.

Vaguely, I am aware of several others who have come in with me and now stand around me and I wonder if perhaps those are the group members she refers to as also being evil. Anger gives way to confusion as I consider this statement. Am I evil? I don't think I ever considered it. So I look inward now at my strengths and weaknesses, at my faults and at my frailties. But no, I am relatively sure I am not evil, certainly not perfect but I think still far from evil. "I think you have gotten some wrong information." I tell her calmly. Too bad she can't look into my mind and see for herself, I think to myself.

The woman continues to regard me for a few moments and then another woman walks up behind her with a huge box in her hands. The two woman hold the box out and offer it to me over the counter, but I am reluctant to take it, as if the perception of greed might only worsen my supposedly already existing reputation of being evil.

But they insist the box is a free and kind gift so I step forward and look warily inside the big box to see a swirly white material on the bottom as if decorative cake topping had been applied directly to the bottom of the box. Colors swirled in on one end of the box make an obscure pattern and I wonder at the nature of the gift.

The women continue to assure me it is a free gift and so, wondering if it will be heavy, I finally reach out to take the box. Then I wake up.

The Concept of Lieing

In some kind of dream, I was trying to explain to someone about what it was to tell a lie. The other person was confused at first but then I felt a sensation of excitement and she said she thought she understood. She said, "So it's like when someone says they are going to do something and then they don't do it." I said no, that's not exactly right but it seemed that was as close as she could come to understanding. I had the sense that we were communicating telepathically and because she was telepathic, she was unable to fully conceptualize the idea of lieing. It was too alien to her.

Land of Steep Mountains

We lived inside the caves, all of us. Our caves were hand carved in such a way as to blend in, rounded corners and curved alcoves as if nature herself had created them, but each nook and each cranny was conveniently placed to serve as water storage, as shelves, or as walkways. Nothing was left to waste. I lived here a happy life, in the midst of adolescence, I had not yet reached my full height, but I was strong and well adjusted. For the most part, my life was a content one.

Howevever, it was with much surprise that I was told I had been chosen to go on the hunt. It was a great honor, they told me, for one so young. Few are chosen. At first, I was nervous. What if I should not live up to expectations? But soon, my mind began to fantasize. I could be the one to find the much needed treasure. I would be the toast of our society, talked about for generations as a great and brave hero of our people. The idea warmed my heart and I allowed myself to dwell on it for many pleasant nights.

Finally, the day of the hunt arrived. Gone was all my earlier bravado as we stood on the slope of a great mountain that ascended at an extreme angle of 70 degrees. All our land was this way, consisting entirely of impossibly steep mountains that reached impossibly high into the sky. Outside of our caves, we only new of these spires. No flat land was present anywhere and all movement outside of the caves carried a danger of falling and death.

On the sides of the slopes, trees and forest plants had well adapted to anchoring themselves down into the rock and soil. Large clumps of lichen type plants made soft grey mounds between the stones. We climbed slowly, strung together with jangling climbing gear in an attempt to prevent serious accidents. Each step was exhausting and tedious as we hunted for signs of natural ores and materials that would advance our society. But everywhere was just more of the same plain grey rocks, thin reddish trunks of trees shooting straight towards the sky, and small bushes scattered between the trunks. There was no white rock and no shiny metallic rock, just the same old grey. It all looked the same for as far as we could see. Sometimes an entire generation would pass before a new discovery was made. I knew the chances of success on any one miniscule mission were small.

After a time we stopped and rested. Exhausted mentally and physically, I sat down on a small rock and hoped it would anchor me from falling. We sat with our legs pointing down the mountain. As if sitting on the slope of a cliff, I could see the mountain side go straight down for miles below me until the combined thickness of the tree trunks prevented any further vision.

Lifting my head and looking straight out in front of me, only a few miles in front was the face of the mountain next to us, appearing exactly the same as the one I was sitting on. The air was so clear I felt I could almost reach out and touch the other mountain. Somewhere far far below out of sight, I knew the two mountains must slant down to touch eachother, but we never went down there. It was too far.

Finally, my head sagged down to see the ground between my legs and I was startled to see a small pile of crumbled grey rock right there in front of me. How had I missed that? Everyone knew that fresh crumbled rock meant an area of danger. Only an idiot tarried in the vicinity of a crumbled rock pile. If I had any brains, I would get up immediately and move. But I was tired and I didn't want to draw the attention of the others to my mistake. If I moved now, they would wonder why. And I was tired. As much as I wanted to get away from the scene of my mistake, I was not eager to exert myself further. We would move soon anyway and I decided to take my chances and wait until then. Most likely, I would get away with it with my honor intact.

I had lost all hope of finding any treasure on this trip. Instead, I decided to concentrate only on keeping up with the others and avoiding trouble. From now on, I would be more careful of crumbled rock piles and if we were all just as careful, we would make it back home with no injuries. By now, that was all I could find in my heart to hope for. These expeditions were long and hard and when we returned, we would have to face the disappointment of the elders. This wasn't nearly so fun as I had expected, but I had a duty to my society to at least try. I would continue as long as they wanted me, even if in my heart I felt it was a waste of time.