Published on Jan 17, 2009:
Introduction
This story is one of the two selected stories in the 2008 Scifi Contest [1]. 'Touchstone' is an excellent story that imaginatively projects the nostalgia that we all feel when we realize how frozen accidents in history sometimes has led to poverty of living. This story would make you wonder about the historical path humanity has taken and would take in future.
About the author
J Ramanand won the second contest in 2007 for his story A Story in Blue [2]. His homepage is here [3]. He blogs as quatrainman [4].
I made it back to the TV room with my cup of tea just as the programme was resuming. They were replaying my interview which was taped two days ago.
"Welcome back to 'Frontier'. We continue our conversation with Professor Roy, who has just finished the second volume in his magnum opus 'The History of Human Biology'."
"Professor, in your first volume on Ancient Human Biology, you traced both the evolution of humans, as well as our attempts as humans to deduce this extraordinarily reflexive theory. You trace how Wallace and Darwin imagined evolution and how, eventually, it came to be completely accepted. Your recent book dealt with the histories of genetic engineering."
"But I'm sure all your readers really want to know: when will we come to grips with the subject of the Great Taboo? Isn't that the holy grail of biological historiography?"
I watched myself smoothing my moustache a couple of times, a sign that I was carefully composing my answer.
"Well, Marie, it is. But the viewers and you must realise how difficult it is for us historians. The shift did not happen overnight, but the change wasn't well recorded. We only know that about a few hundred years ago, humans began to adhere to the Great Taboo. Unfortunately, that period coincided with some of the more unfortunate phases in terms of science and history. We lost some of the greatest biologists of that era in the tragic fire of the Luxembourg Convention, which set human biology back by several generations. In addition, there was a near vacuum of qualified historians, a Black Age, as almost every child of impressionable age wanted to be a space vintner or geo-technocrat."
"As a result, Marie, we severely lack authoritative academic work in basic sciences of that period, leave alone biology. Before we realised it, members of the human species drifted apart. You could say we fell out of love. In the grand timeline of evolution, that was an infinitesmal moment, so I suppose only now has the time come for us to regard our condition in the harsh clarity of the microscope."
"What, in your considered opinion, caused the Great Taboo? Were the reasons genetic? pathological? cultural? How did we escape our social bonds, that were once considered a definitive species marker?"
"I suppose the easier answer would be to say 'All of the Above'! But, the honest one would simply be: "I don't know". We know that there were medical reasons, contagious epidemics that may have seeded this change. I believe some day we will have a reasonably satisfactory explanation. However, I also do believe in the 'greediness' (if I may call it that) of evolution. By that I mean I do not feel uneasy about the paths our species has trodden on. If we had a time-traveller from the past visit us, he would surely be astonished to find that we abjure from physical contact of any kind. But it has happened and here we are, seemingly none the worse for it."
"So you do not support the 'Socialist' movements?"
"No, I don't. But as a good scientist, I must add the caveat "as of today". But I wonder why the current state is so undesirable to these people that they wish to fall back to the past. Also, as a professional historian, I must point out that a couple of millennia ago, some people called themselves 'Socialists', with very different goals in mind. It may be instructive to read about the ultimate fate of that ideology before choosing such a name."
"Dr. Roy, how confident are you that the opening of the Asiatic Scientific Council's archives will help researchers like you in your quest?"
"Very confident. I'm very grateful to Council President Rineka Anantha and her board for being very supportive of our research. My students and I have begun studying some of the papers preserved at the headquarters in Manila. I hope to have my third volume out in about five to seven years."
"We'll be awaiting that with great anticipation. Thank you Dr. Roy. Like always, it's been a pleasure."
"Likewise."
I switched off the TV. I looked across at the green expanse behind my house, with a cool sun overhead. I could see a child and its minder in the park. They were accompanied by an emptiness all around. Lucky kid, to have drawn such good weather today.
I checked the wall clock. I still had about 30 minutes to get to my supermarket slot. I powered up my tablet and checked if Nina, my daughter, was available on the Wire. Our last conversation had left me a little uneasy. She was at that age when people discover things that they feel they ought to have opinions about. I am an old-fashioned academic and opinion only comes to me after careful thought and reading.
Unlike me, Nina was prepared to jump right in.
She did not seem to be around, so I left her a little message that should have set her tablet blinking.
I had just about settled down with a book when I was alerted by the Wire. Roun was waving at me on the tablet. Roun was the closest I had to a friend. I'd known him ever since we'd had been paired in a few course modules all those years ago at the Technic.
"Hey Prof, you going to the market today, right?" I nodded.
"Can you get me a couple of little thingies and pills? My slot isn't until day after. I'll wire you the list."
"All right, Roun. Oh, did you hear from the Child Board?"
"Tomorrow's the date. But according to someone I know, the Board fears that this area is a little overpopulated and they are slowing down the rate of acceptances. Mind you, they haven't found a suitable ovarian pair for me yet. So don't think it'll happen this year."
"But you'll keep applying?"
"I dunno, man. Of course, I'm not going to be the kind of father that you are to your child. I consider my duty done when the fertilisation is done, like most people. I think the Board will do a far better job looking after the kid."
"Well, I don't think I have been that unusual with Nina. Doesnít seem to be too uncommon for one or the other parent to be interested in their child even later."
"Itís a modern fad, I think. Aren't you worried about getting too close?"
"Yeah, sometimes. But parental bonds could be as illogical as taboos."
"That sounds like Socialist talk to me, my friend."
I chose to ignore the snobbery in that tone.
"Perhaps. Tell me, Roun. Honestly. Have you never ever felt the urge to indulge in close social contact? Let me confess: Recently, I have, several times. Perhaps it has been influenced by my recent work. "
There was a long pause. I was about to ask him to let the question go when he spoke.
"Prof - listen. Perhaps it is something to do with me not being as fancily educated as you and your lot. But no, I've never felt the need. I have always thought it to be namby-pamby-ness of a kind. No offence. It's the way we are. Just because many, many centuries ago, we were different, doesn't mean that is the best way to be. I have my life, my work, my interests. I can pleasure myself by all means whenever I seek to. We probably have it good - hardly any wars anywhere. We actively participate in farming our world. What more can you need?"
That was impressive articulation for a man who made his living designing closed-form sanitation circuits.
He, in turn, took my silence for distress and began to apologise. I cut him short.
"Come on, Roun. Have I ever grudged your honest opinions? If that's how you feel, that's that. And it's time for me to leave. I see you've sent your list. I'll drop of your items by your minder today."
In fifteen minutes, I was on the SpeedWay in my car. I didn't expect to see so many vehicles on the Way - it must be the hint of pleasant weather that peeked out from all around. As I passed the pink tiled house, I looked at its doorway. It was home to a known Socialism promoter and always had a big banner with a one-liner, just like the churches used to put out on Sundays.
Today, it read:
"Be sensitive. Not touch sensitive."
In reading that, I almost missed the yellow light that had begun to blink on both my dashboard as well as on the traffic signage ahead. I slowed down immediately, hoping that whoever was in that accident was safe.
As I passed the wreck, I could see a girl, perhaps as young as Nina, a little dazed, probably a cut on her forehead. Like the others who drove past, naturally I didn't stop. I could already hear sirens. The robot minders of the Health Board would take much better care of her. Even if I did stop, what would I do? The thought of having to touch her evoked a familiar nausea. The minders were specialized and would do a clinically better job, I reminded myself.
I drove into the supermarket bay, just five minutes late. The others in my slot had already driven in. I clocked in and went looking for oranges.
After completing my shopping (and Roun's), I got home. I had an appointment with a research assistant, but he was not in yet. So, I went to the grass park behind my study after carefully checking no one was around. Strictly speaking, I had no business being there because children had use of the place till late afternoon. Adults could be expected to keep their distance if they accidentally over-strayed into each other's personal radius. However, children, lovely, impetuous things that they were, were still being inducted into the ways of our world, and the Great Taboo was just a couple of big words for them, not the basis of a civilisation.
I waved to the sweeper camera via which Carlito the guard would be watching from his office. He was tolerant of my wanderings and would give me a warning beep as soon as the next child and its minder were anywhere in the vicinity.
I was trying to escape many things: my neck's pain that was aggravated by the stress of my mind that was in turn sparked off by my last conversation with Nina. My mind sometimes strayed into wondering if I had made the right decision five years ago to find out the whereabouts of my only child. The minders of the Board had done a fine job as statutorily mandated. I guessed that my request was granted with greater smoothness than the average citizenís; largely because I was well-known in the world, but also, I suspected, because they thought I had an objective research-oriented motive in doing so.
They thought I was taking a biopsy of our lives.
Nina was happy to meet her father, since most kids didn't usually meet either parent in their lives. Not that this changed her life in any fundamental way. I just helped her get here. Since the mother did not contact Nina, I do not know who was paired up with me to pave the way for this frail and intelligent human to be invited to join the rest of the species.
Initially, weíd speak to each other a couple of times a year, exchanging updates and interests. She was taking up spatial science, second millennia art studies, and played "Arctic Adventures" in her free time. She thought about a career in remote medicine, which was an unfashionable choice these days, with medicine being largely the domain of the minders. Her own minder, a robot named Helia, took good care of her, and Nina, like any other well-adjusted teenager, was poised to engage the rest of the world, and perhaps contribute to its farming.
In the beginning, she wasn't any more special to me than say, any of my students, whom I would usually see for a couple of years, until they graduated. But in their case, I never got to know their favourite songs or ice-cream flavours. Or how they looked forward to seeing two blackbirds cheep out in unison first thing in the morning, or it would be a boring day.
A beep rang out on my tablet as I approached the dead tree on the edge of the park. It had always been the most beautiful thing I had seen. Because it made the rest of the park greener.
But alas, Chaiim was waiting with some notes from the Council archives. I jogged back to the house.
On the screen, I could see he had a pile of notes in front of him.
"Sir, you ought to subtitle the third volume the 'Age of Mycroft'", he began.
"What's Mycroft?"
He seemed a little embarassed.
"Sir, you know this interest of mine in classic deductive literature?"
"Sherlock Holmes and Poirot and the lot?"
"Exactly. Now in the Holmes books, even though Sherlock is a celebrated detective, he concedes that his elder brother Mycroft is far more clever. Apart from being lazier, importantly, Mycroft prefers the solitude of his club where gentlemen come to escape their fellow-men, and silence is guaranteed."
"I see."
"I thought that was an apt metaphor for what human society has become."
"Interesting point. However, in Mycroft's case, am I right in saying his seclusion was completely voluntary?"
"Yes".
"Whereas, we think that the taboo mainly began as a forced reaction to one of the contagious epidemics that swept the species in that particular time-period."
He smiled. "Yes sir, I was aware that the metaphor would snap if stretched too far."
"True. But we may still have a use for it. Whatever the spark, it seems evident that generations came to favour the uses of these loose social bonds, did it not?"
We continued in this vein till lunch-time, when I decided to stop our meeting.
"We'll resume on Friday?" asked Chaiim.
"Yes." I hesitated a little before proceeding.
"Chaiim, I have a little question for you, before you go."
"Go ahead, sir."
"Do you know any Socialists? Given what we're researching and reading, do you find any sympathies with what they espouse?"
On the window sill behind him, I saw a little bird alight and cock its head towards him, as if waiting for his reply. Chaiim seemed a little flustered.
"You don't have to answer that now. But it would be good to know your views."
"Sir...", he trailed off. "Will you treat this is in the strictest of confidence?"
I promised to be very discreet.
"A couple of years ago, I was involved with an underground group - a little bit of a pseudo-anarchic establishment. It was very immature, run by undergrads, had initiation ceremonies, that sort of thing. "
"Obviously, we routinely broke the Great Taboo - you'd hold hands, or kiss with others. Then people tried to invent newer ways to break - there was even a contest for it. People began to hunt for a lot of contraband from the past in hopes of inspiration."
"It wasn't very serious, a form of being rebellious for the sake of it."
"And then a few people fell ill, with similar symptoms. One of them was sick for about three months. That scared us off, just sheer fright arising from this guilt of breaking the Taboo, and especially because of the mindless impunity we had shown. What if it was related? What if this was punishment?"
"Looking back at it, I'd say it was nothing: perhaps a minor affliction from sharing stuff, being in close contact. If we had thought of it rationally, we wouldn't have panicked. But as I said, we were immature, grown-up kids at best."
"However, I never ventured into all that again. I figured that life as it stood right now was well balanced, and I didn't really want to upset it. I don't really know what I'd have got out being in close physical contact with other humans. Come to think of it, I don't remember feeling any particular affection for any of that lot. And I did not really get anything from that social contact. I didn't learn anything from that particular form of interaction. Apart from our naivete, we were independent people, just like anyone else these days."
He shrugged, and gave a wan smile.
"Chaiim, well, thanks for sharing that memory with me. Itís safe with me. I must confess that in comparison to your excursions in life, mine has been spent in a black cocoon. When I grew up, I never thought much of challenging these social norms, and preferred my chosen worlds. Okay, I mustn't get your lunch cold. Thanks again. We'll get back to our work on Friday."
Saying that, we switched off our respective screens.
I had meant to call Nina again after a hurried lunch, but I must have dozed off. It was about four when the gentle stirrings on my wrist awoke me to the Wire. She was calling.
"Did I wake you up, Ty?", she asked
"You did, Nina, but I'm glad you did."
"I got your message in the morning, but I was outside the house since last evening and wasn't carrying my tablet. Only now did I dash back to get it, and came out again. You want to know where I've been?"
"Where?"
"A friend of mine told me about this off-the-record place where you could get some really old microfilms, movies from way back."
"Helia didn't stop you?"
She chuckled. "I pulled the wool over her eyes. Anyway, coming back to this. So I got hold of a few yesterday and have been randomly leafing through them. Have you seen any of these?"
"No. Heard about them, of course. But that it is such an old-fashioned form, isn't it?"
She looked a little disappointed at that.
"It is a little quaint. But some of it was so wonderful. It is such a pity no one makes these motion pictures anymore. One of them was especially great. It's called 'Casablanca'."
"This is a place in Africa, right?"
"Yes. It's a love story - these two people meet in a bar, and later we find out they were in love with each other. It was, I don't know, so natural. I'm probably babbling here."
I was feeling a little uneasy.
"Nina. You shouldn't watch such things if they upset you like this."
"No Ty, no. You don't understand. For the first time, I felt as if I had met people who knew how I was feeling. You keep telling me to read more, to reason our state..."
"All for your own benefit", I cut in. "All that Socialist talk - you should be careful. Most of that lot are such airheads that they can't tell their right hand from their left."
"C'mon Ty. How many of them do you really know? It's just prejudice - and it's a shame you of all people should be talking like this."
She was right, of course.
"You don't seem to get it, Ty. I don't think we are meant to go through life never to get close with others, to touch them, to feel them. At least, not me. I feel I have a gift. I can care for people. But for that, I don't think I can do that being so cut-off from everyone else. I don't know how you, or anyone else I know, does that. "
I was silent. I had nothing to say.
"I'm sorry if it goes against every instinct of yours. It's not as if this is a fad, a growing-up thing. I honestly feel that way. I don't think any amount of thinking about it will repress that. I'll just be living in extreme denial. I wanted you to know how I feel."
"Nina, you're an independent person. Just because I'm related to you doesn't give me the right to tell you what do to. I'm sorry."
"See Ty, it's not just that you're related to me. You're more. You're a direct ancestor. I'm part of you. You must have felt strongly enough about me to have looked me up. Hardly anyone does that for their children."
I got up and looked out at the bright orange sky outside as the sun prepared to sign off for the day.
"Ty, sorry, if I've been ticking you off". The familiar tease in her voice was back. "I know I am going to break the taboo, I am meant to. I'd like you to be the first person I touch. Would you be able to suffer that for me?"
I turned and looked at the screen as my daughter sat in her car, simply staring back.
Ten minutes later, she was outside my study.
"I didn't think we should mark this surrounded by sofas and papers", I beamed.
She followed me to the park outside, where in the distance, stood my favourite piece of earth. As I did that, I heard Carlito speak through my tablet telling me some people were driving up in a few minutes and to stay away.
It only made me walk faster. Behind, Nina started to jog to keep up. Carlito began to grow more urgent and started to plead and then shout.
I stopped, grabbed a surprised Nina by the hand, and we began to run to the dead tree before anyone could stop us and before the sun took the golden greenery down with it.
END.
