Читать книгу The Slave - Luigi Passarelli - Страница 8

The main transition had occurred by now. He was lying on his bed when he began to doubt the usefulness of his past and future studies. He realised that he had not made choices which corresponded to his desires. He had even done all of the aptitude tests to try to work out a suitable career path that fitted in with his characteristics. He needn't have any doubt, a mistake could not be possible. He still felt lousy though. He knew as well that in reality he didn't actually have any plausible desires or aims. All he would have wanted to do was to travel and to choose from time to time the road down which he would travel. He knew very little about the world however. The only thing he knew about the world was about the different plants. And basically there wasn't that much to know about them.

Only one other boy from his age range had progressed with him through the same studies, and he had never even spoken to him. They had never met and he didn't even know his contact details. On the last day of school, they both had an appointment at the same time to go and see the building which would have been their new faculty. Every department of the university was strictly separated from the others.

He had never seen the building before, although it was not very far from his house. He had never even heard anybody talking about it. It was called Container B1. He decided to have a look on his tablet to try to find some photos of it. Strangely, he had never even thought about doing that before.

He was disappointed. There was only one app which he could download, the search engine could not find any others. There was no point trying anything else.

He presumed he would have access to more information when he had signed up. His father had already told him how many credits a year they would be spending, and also about the various possibilities for making more money.

He got a bit of energy and hope back. Maybe it was worth giving his best to get the most credits. He thought about a positive balance at the end of things. He only feared that it would be incredibly difficult to achieve.

Impossible tests, misleading questions and answers, they had done everything to try to make it as difficult as possible to find the right answer. But at the end of the day, if everything had been easy, then there would be no point. Or maybe there would...

He put his favourite channel on the radio, but the Voice of Conscience was speaking.

“Ivano, now that you can be who you have always dreamed of being, stop thinking negative thoughts! Today is a special day. Enjoy these moments with your loved ones. Show them some recognition for everything they have done for you. It is down to all of us! We have always been close to you and now you have made it to your Big Day. You should be grateful for that. Would you like to hear today's horoscope?”

Ivano hated horoscopes. He hated everything which claimed to be the truth but had no proof. It seemed like they were just made up.

The audiophone chose an invigorating playlist for him. Even so he only recognised a couple of the artist's songs. An older song came on, something by one of the few artists who had survived the years.

He had studied it over and over. It was an appropriate subject for him. The abandonment of idolatry and the love of icons. They were products in effect. Given the fact that the Programme was not able to control pure or impure thoughts, it was decided to do without all of that.

He could never understand if it would be useful, right or worthwhile, if it was time to simply cut the impossible knot and to make creativity walk the plank. Ivano thought that artefacts were stuff of the past, of a past which was full of doubts and problems, full of uncertainties and multiple interpretations. Now, all of that had definitively been left behind. He had not lived through the excitement and the culture, but it was certainly not possible to go back to that now.

He didn't feel remotely able of creating something, he was making the most of the positive energy and left those who were more graceful than him to be chosen by Selection.

There were after all special schools, where the work was very difficult and the most suitable students studied there.

He had actually got the lowest results in the tests.

He loved being stretched out and examining the ceiling. Especially when he liked what was on the audiophone. He loved being in his room.

Yes, the Voice was right. He had really accomplished a dream. Now he needed to rest, but if he slept now he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight.

A sense of calm and of personal fulfilment swept over him, giving him a renewed feeling of self confidence. Slowly but surely he felt able to move forward. Going forward with these tiny things was the only journey he could take. A journey which had already been dreamt up and was already planned out. All he had to do to accomplish this journey was to pass the time. His studies had helped, now he understood that better. He was learning the true dimensions of realisation. Perhaps the microchip had helped him? He just didn’t know.