Cry the Beloved County / Moor Time

Cry the Beloved County / Moor time

On 9 October year 2114 I was 100 years old. The birthday text from the President was functional rather than congratulatory. Present yourself to the EU, Eternity Unit to discuss option 1 or 2.

At the Eternity Unit the biomechanic ran through the two options.

1 the GONA, Go Now Age, or 2 NETA, Near to Eternity Age.

The biomechanic assessed me as eligible for option two - we can offer you another thousand years if you wish, the downsides are fairly non-existent now, she intoned.

‘Downsides?’ I said, ‘ I thought the process was virtually perfect ’

‘Here at the Unit we are always working on perfection. If you decide to go for the Near to Eternity option there are a few points The Authority  obliges me to highlight. The briefing is on the computer, touch the screen like this, it will explain the process onto your retina reader.’

The Eternity process involved replacing the oxygen based blood system with a nitrogen one. You are reactivated 1000 years from now. The abbreviation is NAP – Nitrogen Age Postponer. You wake as if from a nap 1000 years hence, if you like what you find you can stop at that time, if not, you may opt for another 1000 years, forward , never back.

And the other downside I asked when the biomechanic returned.

‘You won’t be able to cry.’

‘I won’t be able to cry. That’s it?’

‘Yes, the nitrogen will close the tear ducts, forever. Take the day to think about it, what’s a day in 1000 years.’

I remember vividly my last day in year 2114. The sound that remains with me is the sound of water. I sat by the course of the moor stream I knew as a child  - you could tell the seasons by it. A torrent in winter, a trickle in summer, the point in Spring and Autumn when the sound meant the level was the same. I looked at the long gone stream, time to flow on.

As the nitrogen took effect I remembered the old slogan – ‘things can only get better’ , technology my new faith.

‘Happy New Millennia, welcome to 3114.’ The biomechanics were gathered round the NAP capsule like a flock of white birds.

‘What season is it?’ I asked. This seemed to cause them much amusement. One of them said ‘ the computer will give you a briefing, then you can pick up your documents chip and explore the facility.’ I recognised her from 1000 years ago.

I put the document chip on my wrist and waved it in front of the screen.

The computer began: welcome to year 3114, township LS29,  in the state of AFTA, the Americas Free Trade Authority.

You could select the level of detail on the screen, I pressed background.

‘The politics of the 21st century was characterized by referenda, the state formerly known as the UK fragmented into micro states, Scotland joining the European Free Trade Authority EFTA,  England AFTA, the Americas Free Trade Authority. Following WW3, Water War Three, the water rich republic of Yorkshire became a semi-autonomous region within AFTA.’

It was a lot to take in. I remembered fresh air. I asked the biomechanic if I was free to leave.

She almost smiled: you mean The Outside. If you insist we will issue you with one of these, it was a respirator mask, a modified version of one I’d seen on the news tube of 20th century wars.

Outside it was difficult to get my bearings. It seemed logical to believe the moor must be uphill. No humans, no birds, a black peace. According to my wrist map I was already on what was highlighted as ‘former purple zone.’ I pressed the info bar – the display in the mask eye visor read ‘ in the 22nd century the area known as the purple zone was developed in line with regional policy, HDH, LMS, FU. I clicked on abbreviations, I could see abbreviations were the in thing these days. HDH = high density housing, LMS = Leeds Manchester Space Port, FU, fracking units.  In the endless concrete only one crack of colour,  a flower, purple, it must have been all that could live out there a thousand years on. I flung my mask into the line of the old stream, the atmosphere bit my eyes.  I waited for the tears to come.