Chapter 1

Lucian Graves sat alone.  His knees and ankles still ached from the day’s work of collecting the tobacco he had spent most of the summer growing.  It was his first chance to smoke from the new batch, something he relished as part of his nightly ritual, and he was eager to get started.  The summer that year was wetter than normal and the tobacco was tall and very green.  It was hard enough to get the plant to grow near his mountain-side cabin with good weather, let alone with drought or mud slides.  He plucked a pinch from his smoke bag and pushed it into his long wooden pipe.  ”A good year, I’m sure of it!”  He held a match to the pipe, took in a few quick puffs, and let out a long sigh.

“Good indeed!  Pierce, come and see for yourself!”

Lucian kicked his feet up on the nearby table and continued to smoke in pure glee.  Pierce, a mechanical Phoenix roughly the size of a raven, flew in through the window and perched on Lucian’s shoulder.

“You see old man?  This must be some of the finest tobacco we’ve ever grown.  Thank the good weather this year, and your hard work of course.”

Pierce squawked loudly and hopped down to the arm rest of Lucian’s wooden rocking chair.  He looked back at his master with quick jerks of his head and the occasional bob.  His feathers were made from painted stainless steal that reflected the light of the nearby fireplace and glowed as if they were fire themselves.  Lucian loved Pierce as his own brother and would do anything to protect him.  After all the long years alone in his cabin, Pierce was his only true friend.  It was his purpose, after all, to befriend his master and keep him company, just as all the Totem were built to do.  The Cure had robbed mankind of normal families, leaving them to live very long lives in solitude, and had it not been for the Totems, people would have surely all committed suicide.

Lucian was quite content in his life, however, away from other people and the worries of the world.  A Wanderer he was called from other people, someone who stayed away from the cities and towns, someone who lived off the land.  Most people didn’t trust him, but he didn’t care.  He had his cabin, his small farm, his fiddle, and his one true friend Pierce.  He looked at his friend in the firelight with pure admiration.

“‘Tis a thing of beauty Pierce.  Sometimes it just creeps up on you, moments like this, and to think this is also the day I read from the first book.  Quite an amazing set of coincidence!”

The book was a journal.  The Cure had made it so natural memory would only last a hundred years or so.  Lucian had found a solution, however, and shortly after the Cure had spread he started making journals.  Every night, while smoking from his pipe, he would read to remind himself of his own past, and afterward would write, if need be, to expand his own written history.  That night he was back to the very first book, one he considered his favorite.

“Shall I read outloud?  You always loved this one.”

Pierce bobbed his head up and down and let out another loud squawk.

“Ok, ok, don’t get hasty.  I’m getting to it now.”

Lucian carefully opened the book which was already several hundred years old.  The binding cracked and popped and the paper had turned a dark yellow from decay.  I will need to transcribe this soon he thought as he gave the page a gentle blow to push away the thin layer of dust.  He took a long puff from his pipe, savoring the burn in his throat, and then gently setting it down next to his chair as he exhaled.

“Well then, let’s get started.”

April 5th, 2084

I am finding it hard to remember things and so I have decided to start making journals.  Since this is my first book, I will need to cover a lot of lost time.  The Cure was invented almost fifty years ago, yet it has already consumed most of the globe.  At first, it was kept a secret for only the elite.  The rich never wanted the rest of us to have eternal life, but with the age of information in full swing, it was only a matter of time before it leaked out into the Internet.  The Chinese quickly began offering up knock-offs, irst at high prices, but soon competition drove it down.  Within a decade you could get The Cure off the Internet for a few hundred dollars.  Everyone knew the side-effects, but nobody cared.  How could you turn down a life without any disease or aging?  Sure it didn’t cure death entirely, you could still be killed in a car accident, but at least we would have the chance to cheat death if we stayed careful.

The Cure changed how our cells worked.  They could divide and regrow forever as they were, but could never be used for cloning or creating zygotes.  That meant no more children, and as the Cure spread, the children faded.  After thirty years from it’s initial wide release, the last remaining children had grown older and faded into the perpetually young population.  Families had become meaningless, as had long jail sentances, or protected sex.  Even drug abuse was now harmless to the body, and people were quick to embrace and abuse this new freedom.  I knew what was coming, and so made my way out of the cities, watching as society degenerated.  From my new home in the Rocky Mountains outside Denver, I watched as the city was destroyed by a terrorist nuclear bomb.

Governments collapsed as they lost all control over the people.  The rich and powerful went into hiding or were killed, while some people fell into depression and roamed he streets aimlessly.  At the very end of this, as civilization hung on by a thread, a scientist invented the Totems.  Since any normal pet would die from old age too soon for people to develop an attachment, he created these artificially intelligent robots that simulated animals in every way.  The government created millions of them and handed them out, one per person.  Most of them were modeled after the usual pets; dogs, cats, etc.  Some were custom built for aristocrats or important government people.  I myself initially rejected the idea until a few years later when I found Pierce, sitting on the back of a dead man laying face down in the woods not far from my home.

Pierce is a Phoenix, a Totem I had never seen before.  He was a thing of creative beauty, and I could not leave him there to rust away alone.  The man had no identification, though honestly at the time I am writing this I have already forgotten most of what happened that day.  The cells in our brains repair themselves, but in the process overright our memories.  I can’t remember my own mother’s name, or what she looked like.

Lucian lifted his head and looked at Pierce who appeared to be listening intently.  A wave of loneliness overcame him as he thought about his parents.  He felt guilt for not having written about them before they were lost.  I have betrayed you he thought as he pushed back tears.  He stared for a moment at the fire the swirled with the winds from outside.

“I guess we must remember Pierce, everything burns, right?”  He choked back his adness and gave his friend a wink.  Pierce turned his head and squaked.

“You’re right, sorry, I’ll continue.”

The lights then slowly began to go out of the world, as cities and power plants shut down.  For the first time in my life, I could see the stars.  The world fell silent and it became longer and longer between times I would see another person.  At first, most of the people I’d meet were passing through my area of the woods, hunting, and would try to steal food from me.  I had slowly learned how to fight these people off, both with bow and arrow and knife.  Quite frankly, after so many encounters and all the stumbling, I’m amazed I’m still alive to write this.

“Well, people know better now don’t they?”  Lucian raised his hand in a pistol shape and fired off a few fake rounds at Pierce.

December 2123

The winters here are up and down.  I have not seen another person now for twenty years or so, though at times I do worry about that.  If Pierce were to get damaged, I don’t know how I would fix him.  I guess I would have to make my way out into the world and look, though at this point I have no idea where I would go.  The meat I have stored has worked well over the winters, and there is never a shortage of firewood here, but long distance travel would make all those things difficult.  We may be free from disease, age, and minor injuries, but anything serious and both myself and Pierce would still need attention from another more knowledgeable person.

June

I don’t remember the year.  It has been several years since I have written, though I couldn’t honestly tell you how many.  I am writing to make note that my worst nightmares have come true.  Pierce has been injured.  He was attacked by a wolf who must have mistekn him for a real bird.  It didn’t take the animal long to realize his mistake, but the damage was done.  His solar recharging unit appears to be damaged, making it hard for him to recharge, and I fear it won’t be long before he loses power and turns off indefinitely.  I will need to venture out and find someone who can fix him.

July

I have been gone maybe three weeks.  I must be the luckiest man in the world.  Pierce is fixed at it didn’t take long to find someone who could fix him.  Down the mountain side, only two days walk, there is a small town!  To think this place had sprouted there right under my nose.  In the town there was a man named Skyt who was an expert in fixing mechanical things.  I traded him some of my meat for his services and within a week Pierce was as good as new.  He had made mote of Pierce’s special design, but promised not to tell anyone.  I could only guess as to the trouble that might come my way if people knew I had such a special Totem.  I will make a point to go to this town, called Brick I think, every few years to trade for goods I need.

© 2010, Jason Allen Blood. All rights reserved.