The Slave. Luigi Passarelli
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THE SLAVE
Copyright 2017 - Luigi Passarelli
First Edition - January 2017
TEKTIME - www.traduzionelibri.it
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www.mikrofilm.it
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It was an ordinary day, just like any other. Ivano had been waiting his turn in the elegantly styled doctor's waiting room along with all of the other children born on the same day as him. He had only seen four or five of them. He was the second to last. Nobody was talking, nobody even said a word. It was better this way. At the end of it all there would be a practical exam. Everybody was reading the instruction leaflet, which they had all already read so many times that they had all learned it off by heart throughout many years of school and at home life. Redundant stuff. But he knew that even the most obvious things are often filed away as superfluous by a certain type of brain. And in some cases, cases rarely reported in the media, something goes awry. Ivano had never personally experienced or heard any stories of people close to him which were seriously worrying. Just like all the others, he was pretending to be responsible, engaged and interested in the instruction manual. He pretended to read history notes while all the children of his age were obliged to do a three day medical exam to work out if they were eligible for compulsory military service. At the end of the day it was nothing new. The world was just as it always had been. At the end of it all; boring. Perhaps it was always becoming a little more boring. Just like the summer when school is over. That strange summer which opens the door on a whole new world, be it the world of university or the world of work. No homework to do. Studying for studying's sake was a thing of the past. His family had never been on holiday. As the only son, he had only been on short trips close to home, always for educational reasons. But he was never away for longer than one day. He thought about his friends and other people he knew. He would have been happy if one of them would become one of his colleagues in the future. But that would take a great deal of luck. He envied those who could move away even now. He had always had the urge to travel. He should have been able to go to university. Then there would have been many jobs that he could have been able to do, one day in a distant future.
“Ivano? It's your turn, come in.”
Finally, it was his turn.
It was not a good idea to ask questions about the Price Programme. Happiness was a step too far. There were many different possible techniques which he could use to deal with what was coming. Over the past few days his father had made him watch the video courses in preparation for the big event. The day he had been waiting for ever since he was born had finally arrived. It was simple. All he had to do was to get up out of that comfortable armchair, forget everything about his life up to that point and follow the nurse.
The operating roomreminded him of visits to the dentist.
Ivano knew that the whole thing would be over in ten minutes.
The anaesthesiologist, who had grown accustomed to the procedure set to it without any hesitation. Nobody said a word. Someone smiled half a smile out of tired courtesy.
It's difficult to fake it forever. Even in front of a young adult facing the most important event of his life.
However everybody was well trained. Ivano braced himself and used the mental isolation techniques he had learned. The anaesthetic and the smell of the room both helped.
He did not lose consciousness. It was obvious that he was annoyed by the cannula which was stuck up one of his nostrils. It was making him nauseous. The wire had to travel all of the way to the pineal gland, where the latest version of the microchip would be inserted, and back again all without doing any serious damage.
It was only then that he started to wonder what kind of relationship there could possibly be between organic matter and technology. But, intrinsically it was the same as it has always been. It was for sure that neither the microchip nor the doctors were suffering any pain at that point.
After a few minutes everything was over. The relief of the cannula being removed came at the same time as the effects of the anaesthetic beginning to wear off. After a short while he would be able to get up and take his first steps in the new grown-up world.
In some ways he felt reborn, in other ways he felt like he had a new burden to carry and he was very much aware of a massive change in his life.
“You can get up, Ivano.”
Yes, he could get up. A slight headache, a slight crick in his neck and he felt a little off balance.
He waited for his paperwork. The file containing his provisional password and the myriad instructions which he already knew off by heart.
“Welcome to the Price Programme, Ivano!”
That was it. It was the wait that was longer than anything else. What had happened was nothing too special. The consequences would be significant though.
All that was left was to retrace his footsteps, to head home and try not to cause any trouble on the way.
He was walking home along his usual route, when he found himself in front of the shop where he had fallen in love with countless girls and women throughout his adolescence. This time there was nobody in the window who inspired him. But he tried a little experiment anyway, a test.
He pointed his phone at a girl in a bikini to check if the Programme was working properly. She seemed to be friendly and happy. It turned out that his account had not been activated yet. Ivano could not see the price and could not add the girl to his basket or his wish list.
The girl waved back at him. He couldn’t hear her, but it was easy to understand. She obviously wasn't displeased with his looks. It was a shame that she was not to his liking. Ivano left and started to think back to all those girls he had dreamed about for so many nights, the ones who gave him real, sensual companionship in his fantasies. The ones who had drifted away from him slowly. He was a little ashamed. Mostly for the sake of his family. They had told him straight away that he should never take certain assumptions into account. Starting a family was a completely different matter, even at that time. He would have found the right woman in his own time. His little misadventures with a few friends during his school years had not been all that they could have been. Always hidden and always accompanied by an element of fear.
A beggar caught his eye. Ivano wanted to have another try. He wanted to understand the new power he had acquired, just to see if it was all true.
He pointed his mobile phone at the man.
Yes, this time it worked. The man cost around 3000 credits. This old man with mutilated legs, a beard like one of the ancient prophets, dirtier than most people could ever be and dressed like a Napoleonic soldier, he smiled at him mockingly.
“So, little boy! Do you want to buy me? Are you having fun? Why don't you give your mum a present!! Take me home, give me a room and my own bed!! I could be very useful in your family don't you think?”
Ivano was scared. And ashamed. Yes, it's true, this is how things worked.
He ran away quickly and his thoughts turned to the question of respect for others. At the same time he was thinking of the practical uses for other people. There was still choice when you were in the Programme. You had to be smart just like before. Or at least you always had to remember profit was key. Now he was scared that someone would discover his real value and try to take advantage of him just while walking down the street.
Everybody knew the first rule of the Programme by heart: only other people can find out the actual amount of credits an individual was worth. You cannot check your own value with