Lurranus Stories: Empirius (Part 5)

2094:

Craig, Ryan, Richard and Tom the security guard were enjoying a peasant dinner of Cubes in a shared flat with the television, a prototype holographic television - a “Holo-TV” - in the background. Beforehand, flats were shared by two, but now it was four to a room. The sleeping area was a bit packed, but there was still a nice dining area in each room, and a communal lounge for every ten rooms.
It had been a typical day - Craig perfecting the Slow-Down, which he hoped to realise soon, Tom dealing with all sorts of abuse and Ryan helping Richard with the construction of some new robots.
“So, how does it feel now that you’re about to one up God? Whoever it is, of course, who folds that title” Tom asked suddenly.
“Huh?” Ryan asked. “What’s he on about.”
“He’s talking about the Slow-Down.” Craig sounded ever so slightly annoyed at having to keep Ryan up to speed. “I don’t know.” He replied
“You don’t think perhaps there’s a reason to the way we were made?” He asked, before enjoying another mouthful of food. He smiled, and assumed an accommodating stance. “Not an accusation, just a question.”
Craig smiled. “No, it’s a fair point. I’d say... huh.” He paused. “If there is a creator, I would imagine he - or her, even, or whatever such an advanced being would be - perhaps would want to leave some work leftover. If we were perfected, what would there be to drive us on?”
“You could argue in our current form, our life is the correct length. This isn’t my opinion, I’m just playing devil's advocate here.” Tom flashed Craig a grin.
Ryan looked ready to jump to Craig’s defence, but Craig brushed his concern off with a smile.
“I think...” Craig stopped, and started tapping his arm, as the gears turned in his head. Tom leaned in.
“I think,” Craig said in a paced manner, “if life is of purpose, a long life doesn’t matter. So long as you still have some drive, you’re mind will be at peace. I hope soon, we will manage to restore some kind of order to the world. Make it spiritually rich. And people will spend their many days learning about everything they can, meeting all the different people from all the different walks of life, and by the time they have learned all they can, then they can pass away in peace.”
“And what then?” Tom asked. “When we’re perfect, when we’ve gone as far as we can.”
Craig leaned into the table slightly, and looked Tom in the eyes. “I imagine that the human experience will simply become one of continual enlightenment. Each newborn becoming a fulfilled person, starting their life knowing nothing and ending their journey at peace, having learned all they can. Having travelled the every inch of the world - worlds, even. That’s the utopia I see.”
“That’s interesting.” Tom smiled.
“It’s a far off reality but... well, we can all dream.” Craig paused. “Tom... I never knew you were such an interesting person.”
Tom shrugged in a charming manner. The two looked at each other silently, both giving off dreamy smiles. Neither felt the need to say anything. Ryan and Richard looked on awkwardly.
“Get a room.” Ryan coughed. Everyone laughed, and they turned back to their food.
Meanwhile, the news began covering a new story on the Holo-TV:

“After Mitch Farrell’s untimely death due to drug related issues, Keskal will now be led by Euan Kevil -”

“The fuck?” Ryan piped up, suddenly engaged.

“ - a man of notoriously strong character who promises good things for the company in years to come. We have every faith that Kevil is the right man for the job - ”

“No fucking way!” Ryan made to slam the table, but stopped at the last second, not wanting to ruin everyone’s meals. “How is...?” He thought back to his encounters with the man. It had been clear he wanted a job with the company but how corrupt could they be that he would end up in charge?
No one else spoke. Craig considered making a sarcastic remark to alleviate the mood, but the news was so dire he couldn’t even utter a word. The same man who murdered men, women and children in Edinburgh in ‘68... leading Keskal? In control of the flats?
“I did try, Ryan.” Craig said weakly. “I tried to get Damian to help the flats, kick Keskal out, but... nothing.” He sighed. “I should’ve tried harder.”
On the TV, a fifty year old Kevil with a smart new haircut entered a room to the applause of those in it. Richard quickly turned off the TV. Everyone finished their meals in silence. Although it pained them, they all thanked their lucky stars they were eating on the Empirius complex and not in the flats, where Kevil could now waltz into anyone’s home at any moment and no one could stop him.

2096:

Things were getting worse. The authorities were starting to clamp down on certain things. New shows were much more controlled now. Hosts and even the audience members underwent extensive screening. Even badmouthing Keskal was not allowed, to avoid panic and protesting. The Slow-Down had been given to everyone. It was unlikely to affect the current generation, but would give their descendants decades of extra life. But it was unlikely to be enough. Craig felt like things were at a tipping point. After trying to help, and earning some public approval, it was like the scales were beginning to slide back the other way. The public wanted more. Craig was becoming continually more pessimistic, and had a new idea about how to save humanity, even if it would likely mean leaving lots of them behind.
“You’re doing great kid.” Damien said. Damien was eighty years old now. His eyes looked tired, and if Craig were to say what he thought, it would be that Damien just looked done with the world. “Really. I fucking mean it. Everyone else was content to just ride this out, preach about all the things we need to change, all the while our thumbs were firmly up our arses, and said arses were on our extravagant private jets. But you... you tried. You’re helping, as much as you really can. But people, all they see are the things we’re not doing. They see how we’re not using our money on the flats, how we’re leaving that to Keskal. I think, this generation, they’ll respect you, even if you're one of “those Empirius pricks”. I mean, our reputation was on the mend, it improved a bit, but people inevitably had to ask more from us, and get angry. But one day, I think they’ll be so fucking greatful for everything you’ve done.” Damien swayed over momentarily, but righted himself. “I don’t know how long we’ll be around for - least of all how long I’ll be around - so I don’t know if anyone’ll ever say this to you, but... you’ve done a great fucking job.”
Craig smiled politely, although he had heard it all before, and tried not to let the praise go to his head. “Thank you.”
Damien shook his head. “Thank you. I’m just some random dude who had a rich dad, I’ve never done anything of note - anything good anyway- you’re the important one.” Damien smiled weakly. “And I want to let you know that.” He smiled, before letting go, and walking over to his desk.
“So, you said you had an idea.”
Craig nodded. “It’s a bold one. But if things get desperate enough it might become necessary. We might have to leave a lot of us behind... Anyway, the idea is to create a ship to colonise a distant world, and take a decent number of people there. Start over. Build a new world for ourselves.”
Damien nodded, and spoke slowly. “I think... we might... have to.”

“And ideally we can come back for everyone else at some point, of course.” Craig took a deep breath in. His next idea would be even more challenging. “And I think... I think we should help out the flats.” Damian didn’t respond. He didn’t breathe. He just looked Craig in the eyes, and looked upwards in dismay. It was like a silent sigh.
“No...” he whispered eventually. “It’s a stupid idea. No. Yes to the ship. But we... save no one... from... the flats.” He let out the weakest laugh Craig had ever heard. “We just can’t.”
Craig nodded weakly. “I understand.”

Craig walked out to see Tom on the steps outside Damian’s hotel room. He sat down next to him.
“How’d it go?” Tom inquired cautiously.
Craig shrugged. “No to the flats. But the ship - The Lurranus, I think, the name is - has a shot.”

Tom looked over. “What’s the story behind the name?” He asked softly.

Craig chuckled. “It was based on some drunken ramblings from my friend Jack, years ago. It means to voyage into the unknown.”
Craig leaned back and looked up.
“Do you reckon we’re it, Tom?” Tom looked over. “That we are the only beings in the universe?”
“I don’t.” He answered without missing a beat. “There’s something else out there... the only question is what.”
“Do you think God is out there? Whoever passes for God, anyway?”
“There’s a creator out there somewhere.” Tom responded. “Someone with the answers about why we’re like this.”
“Maybe we might meet them, out there. Ask them why they made us, work out where it was they went wrong. Maybe see if there’s other beings out there, see how they compare to us. See what we can learn from them.” He looked affectionately at Tom. “You’ll come, won’t you.”
Tom reached out, and grabbed Craig’s hand. “Of course.” He said gently.
Craig didn’t know what this feeling was. A feeling of utter tranquility. The feeling that he didn’t need to move, speak or even look at Tom. Just sitting next to him, knowing he was there, was enough.
“You wanna go for a walk?” Tom asked. He didn’t specify a location. He didn’t need to.
“Yeah.” Craig breathed. He turned and smiled at Craig. “Ok.”

2100:

Tom was dead. He hadn’t shown up for work one day in 2097. No one knew why. It wasn’t until a year later someone found his dead body had been bent up and tossed into a garbage bin in the flats. Craig didn’t think about it much. He didn’t talk to anybody about it. He did what he did best. He compartmentalised his feelings instead. He tried every morning to convince himself in vain he didn’t miss him.
But he did. He did miss him. He missed him a lot.
Damien had died too. Inevitable natural causes. He was an old man. He died aged eighty after having a stroke in his bed. The company had now been left to Karen and Justin Moore, who had quickly dismissed Craig’s ideas about helping the flats.
Ryan was doing ok. The two still shared their usual banter, but oftentimes just sat in silence, not sure what to say. They hadn’t seen Jack since his wedding.  His wife had been pregnant but both she and the child were both dead five months after the two tied the knot. Jack never clarified why, and the two didn’t ask. Jack just focused on foreign relief operations now. He once said to Craig, in confidence, he didn’t care if he died helping others. He just wanted the memories and the dreams and the nightmares to stop. He just wanted to be at peace. Craig didn’t know how to respond to that. He had never seen Jack, the eternal voice of reason and optimism, so broken. They hadn’t spoken since then.
The population now exceeded 18 million. Things were out of control. People didn’t talk anymore. Regardless of who they addressed, they just screamed at them. Keskal’s ruling of the flats was anarchy. Empirius’ measures had become more desperate. Crime has rampant as people fought to take whatever they would. The general populace had been branded a destructive group, and as such, governments were now voted by computers which judged their character and suitability for the job. Predictive programming and harsh security measures were used in an effort to keep the people in check, with many countries bringing in the death penalty for once minor offences, simply because it wasn’t practical to keep those people around any more. The Press was now controlled by the government. Free speech was claimed to be allowed, but technicalities were in place to make organising public events as difficult as possible. The internet and social media were heavily censored. The Government alternated between denying claims against them, and arguing humanity couldn’t be trusted with its freedom, not least if all of the living 18 million people wanted a semi-enjoyable life. The fact of the matter was, there were too many people on the little rock called Earth, and it couldn’t last out forever.
Craig had since developed the Grow-Down, designed to make each subsequent generation of humans slightly smaller, so they could make more use of the limited space on the planet. He had recently been on the Gabriel Winter’s show to talk about it, only this time the audience had been completely nonexistent. Television shows weren’t allowed audiences these days, but they still pretended as though people were there, with pre-recorded sounds being played though, and wide shots of crowds being inserted into the edits that aired on peoples TV’s.
He felt it went nicely hand in hand with the Cube and the Slow-Down, but it still wasn’t enough. Try as he might, he knew he had already failed. Humanity was doomed. The population was just too great. Even people who once praised him felt now he wasn’t doing enough. He went back to the Wholesome Spring bar once, and even Keith the waiter seemed significantly less enthused by Craig’s presence.
The Lurranus, once just an idea to colonise a distant, ripe new world, could well become the 22nd centuries Noah’s ark. Taking a select group of human’s away while the others drowned in God’s hell. Craig didn’t like the idea of abandoning humanity, and letting only a select few survive. He believed humanity wasn’t just a genetic code, but the people alive right now. He wanted to save everyone.
But that required the people to just remain calm, cooperate, and take only their fair share. But trying to convince one person of that, would likely be difficult. The whole population...
So Craig had to believe there was something out there. A new world, that soon the others could join them on. Maybe even other beings, with answers about humanity's true nature. Maybe even whoever it was who passed for God. These thoughts were what helped Craig sleep at night. The insistence that this wasn’t cowardly, but necessary. And the answers to all his and Tom’s old questions lay within their reach, along with humanity’s salvation.

2109:

Small factions of people were rising.
People claiming they were set on doing God’s good work. That they were “good men, moulded and forced into action by a cruel world”. They claimed they wanted to save humanity, by killing off a fair portion. Craig despised these people, and the violence and falsehoods they preached. The only way to save humanity was by working together, but if they required even two regular people having a conversation in an even tone… you could forget it. Craig knew everyone had it in them, but getting through to them was another matter entirely.
For now, these groups were of little consequence. They were all talk. Telling the people they had the answers to their problems, telling people they would get what they wanted, regardless of whether they were willing to go through with it. They just said what they had to to please the people. They weren’t a threat. At least for now.

The real concern was still the population. It was still rising, to 20 million now, with no sign of stopping. He was scared, terrified, that his work would amount to nothing and humanity would slowly wither away. There were too many people, too little space, and too little of actual use to be found on the planet. Their various resources, the ons they had indulged in for so many years, were scarce or gone. Craig, regrettably, saw only one way out.
The phone rang. Craig sat up slowly. He was sixty now, and in the last ten years in particular he had felt his body start to slow down a bit. Unlike the people who had been given the Slow-Down at birth, Craig was still ageing naturally. In some ways it was upsetting, to see others benefit from his creation while he was left behind. He put those thoughts aside, as he cut the phone's ringtone short.
“Answer.” He paused. A light breathing sounded on the other end. “Go for Craig.”
“Beth showed up dead this morning.” Darren began grimly. “This planet is fucked. I was gonna give you the go ahead before... that.... probably. Now, I’m a hundred percent sure. We need to get out of here. There’s nothing for us anymore. Your Lurranus project is a go.”
“Thank you sir.” Craig said. He waited for a response, but it was clear Darren had nothing more to say, as he had hung up.