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As I am a huge science fiction fan I have attempted to write a story about a government conspiracy, based on something like the X- Files, set in the future. It was written in 2001.
I�m a human. That may surprise you. Of course you�re a human too but I can guarantee you have a little chip in the back of your neck controlling what you do. You have no idea it�s there and you�re happy not knowing. I knew. I knew it was happening.
I don�t know what the world is like now. I don�t know if there is a world left. I don�t know who will read this or when. I will tell you what I do know.
When my sister Shirley gave birth to little Jonathan the nurses took him away from Shirley and her husband Mark for six hours. �An ultrasound for possible heart defects,� they said. I know an ultrasound doesn�t take six hours but at the time we didn�t take any notice.
I finally got to see him a day after he got home. I was busy with work, and being a lawyer that�s not unusual.
I was so excited but when I picked him up he just stared crying. I was disappointed. Shirley told me to move the hand behind his neck. The minute I did he stopped crying. Being so wrapped up in my new nephew I didn�t think much more of it until later. Besides a friend�s child did the same thing. Babies have sensitive skulls you know.
Jonathan�s� neck got worse. After a week it was obviously a sore. They must have taken him to ten different doctors but they couldn�t seem to get any answers. I think Shirley was going crazy.
�What the hell is going on with doctors these days�, would have been the most common statement in their house over those few weeks. I went around one day and I told them if they were really worried about Jonathan they should take him to the head doctor at the university. I was starting to think something was seriously wrong.
Brian Hunter was that doctor and he just happened to be a fan of Mark�s journalism. He checked out Jonathan�s neck and he gave us a look I can�t describe. He picked up the phone.
�Yes I have a pair of shoes here that don�t fit,� he said, �Can I return them? Two hours. Okay see you then�.
�Two hours� squawked Shirley, �For what? Shoes? What about our son?�.
�That was for your son Miss. I can�t say anything now you�ll just have to wait,� he replied gravely.
So we sat with a cup of coffee and waited, and waited.
�Something deep is going on here,� said Mark as he sat down.
We didn�t say another word throughout the waiting time. You could have cut the tension in the air with a knife. A short chubby lady came in after what seemed like a year.
�Quickly. Follow me,� was all she said.
A black panel van was waiting outside for us. We were piled in the back where Brian sat waiting.
�Right,� Mark said, �Would you like to tell us just exactly is going on?�
�Okay, here goes,� he said as he took a deep breath, �I will take you underground where my doctors will operate on Jonathan to save his life. He has an allergic reaction to a chip implanted in his neck.�
�A what!� burst Shirley. Jonathan started crying. Brain gave her a stern look as she settled him down.
�It�s a government thing. We don�t know much and we�re told even less. Every newborn baby must have one implanted and the public is not to know,� he replied.
Shirley was furious, Mark was just shocked. I was beginning to realise Brian was the good-guy in this film-like episode in our lives.
�Where are you taking us?� I asked.
�My headquarters, if you choose to go. There is of course a catch,� he said.
I groaned, �What?�
�My headquarters�It�s underground�a proper city underground, schools, playing areas, doctors, the works,� he explained and as he went on trying to describe this underworld the catch became obvious.
�Once we�re there we can�t leave can we? This is some weird rebellion against these supposed chips right?� I said. I didn�t like his reply.
�You can just leave right now if you like.�
�But?� asked Mark knowing there was a catch with that option too.
�Jonathan will die without the chip removed. He�s having an allergic reaction. It�s happened before,� Brian replied.
�I�m going with Jonathan,� said Mark.
�You can decide just like that?� I said horrified.
He looked at me, then at Jonathan and I understood.
�Me too!� I said.
�Shirley?� Brain prompted raising his eyebrows.
�First tell me more about these chips,� she said.
�We�re working on it. The chips seem to dull one�s emotions. People don�t cry, or shout, like they�re only half human. It speaks to the brain somehow, but we don�t know exactly how yet,� he explained.
�And how many people know it exists?� she asked.
�Apart from our community, most doctors and nurses. We were instructed by a group from the government so we�re assuming the entire government and probably other government departments, police excreta.�
�Strangely I trust you Mr. Hunter and I wish for Jonathan to live. I also value my freedom,� she paused for a long time, deep in thought, �I would like to help with your research and if so I will join you.�
Brian smiled, �Certainly� he said.
We sat in silence for the rest of the trip. We stepped out to find ourselves surrounded in desert. Brian held out his hand, signaling the way, down a hatch.
�Now for the grand tour,� Brain said when we reached
the bottom.
We walked through corridor after corridor of storage rooms, sleeping quarters, quiet rooms, game rooms etc. Then we saw the kitchens and dinning room and finally the laboratory where Shirley was given an office.
We were given rooms and our belongings arrived an hour later.
I think we got lost about a thousand times in our first week there. There is music rooms, and rooms filled with computers, arts and craft stuff, pool tables, there are bars, and nightclubs, you name it and they had it.
�How do you fund all this?� Mark asked amazed.
�Well quite a lot of us have above ground jobs such as myself. All the chores are roistered so we don�t have to pay cooks. We even arrange fake deaths for people, then we inherit their assets. We have things donated and a few other little schemes. Don�t worry there�s no crime involved.�
Mark and I were roistered to clean the laundry once a week and help serve meals. Shirley was roistered on as a babysitter that would be called when needed.
Over a delicious dinner we spoke to a lot of the residents. I was surprised how normal they were. I can�t really explain that comment it just seemed to me that a community living underground ought to be strange in some way.
Shirley and Jonathan had fake deaths arranged and Mark and I were told to keep working above ground. Brian wanted me to find out if anybody in the court system knew about the chips. Brain stayed to make sure the press didn�t get a hold of any information.
Little Jonathan had the operation to remove the chip the next day. After all the stress Shirley was given the chip to take to the labs.
Days went by, people arrived nearly everyday. We soon had our own group of friends. It wasn�t like a prison or anything, more like a boarding school. I guess I tried not to think about how it would be my home for the rest of my life. Life was after all quite good.
Jonathan grew up like any other kid. There were plenty of other children around and at school he learnt about the outside world along with his normal studies.
Shirley told us about her work. They had one child there, Craig, who still had a chip. He was a weird child, never played with the rest of them and it wasn�t that he wasn�t welcome.
One day I was umpiring a football game for the kids and Jan came out looking for Craig. I scanned the crowd but I didn�t really know what he looked like. I think I zoned out for a few seconds.
�There he is,� I pointed to the boy with the chip, �That boy just there, he has a chip.�
�No that�s not him,� Jan said.
I knew that child had a chip, it was like a sixth sense. I insisted again and again that child had a chip and it turned out he did. They had only removed part of it and the other half was still working.
Brian rushed me into his office the day they found out.
�I understand you have an umm ability shall we say?� he said.
�Oh I wouldn�t say that,� I said, �It was just a hunch�.
I argued the point for a few days but I eventually agreed to do what he was asking. I roamed the streets spotting people with and without chips. With a bit of practice I refined my instincts. I guess I have a gift after all.
It wasn�t long before I saw chips in adults too.
Until this time we assumed only newborns had chips due to the ease of implanting them. We were wrong.
John was the first adult to come to us with a chip and we discovered the chip was slightly different.
Not being scientifically minded person I can�t explain fully but the chips control the brain by somehow sending messages in the blood. The chips couldn�t �merge� with the blood of adults, only young children.
In a day I was lucky to see two or three people without a chip and I dreaded having to go up there. Apart from the lack emotion we could find no other effects of the chip. I was certain there was a more sinister motive behind the chips but maybe in your life that is more apparent.
It seemed like the whole world was infected with these chips, them against us in a way. John and I fell in love. I was hesitant about bringing a child into our world but two years after we were married I gave birth to our darling daughter Tracey. We kept her safely underground with us so she never got a chip.
Years went by, more research, more people with chips, more people with us, still no answers.
When Tracey turned sixteen she discovered she too had my powers. She took over my above ground tasks as by this stage I was quite an old lady.
Little Jonathan got married last year and Shirley is sick with cancer. Mark is, well he�s about four thousand miles away. He started losing his memory a while back. It�s a tough time for them.
On my sixtieth birthday I decided to write my life�s story (well all the interesting bits). I don�t know what you think. Or even if you can think for yourself. I�ll never know how it turned out with the chips. Is slavery their motive? The only thing I know is tomorrow night I�m going to sneak up there and plant this somewhere safe. It�s a bit risky, in fact it�s dangerous but I feel it�s something I have to do. I want people to know the truth.
Life goes on, even if my time is nearly up, life goes on. But is it uncontrolled?
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