Chapter SevenA Chapter by Emily21 March 3160Which Log would you like to view?
Accessing Day Thirty-One, March 21st, 3160
“You know,” Adam Smith starts out, “this isn’t nearly as easy as it may look. I –and probably everyone else down here—have longed to see the sky every day since I came in here. Just because we’re happy that we’re alive doesn’t mean we’re all happy with our surroundings. I suppose it’s not that hard to get by, though.
“I forgot to mention the rationing of food, didn’t I? A few weeks ago, we started measuring how much food people consumed per day, and all the variations in it. Once recorded, the amount would be put onto a special card that each individual would carry to the food dispensers. The dispensers would give them so much over a week. I’ve already explained this, though.
“Anyway, we’ve gotten the rationing cards out to everyone, and there haven’t been any real problems yet.
“Oh, there’s also something else. Dreaxanla, who I mentioned in an earlier log, is getting married tomorrow. She and Veond wanted to wait through at least the first month. They’re holding it at Father Kearney’s house, and the reception will be at their home down the same ‘street’. We’re all going to attend.
“Uh… what else, what else. We’ve been employing some of the residents with better personalities jobs as news anchors in our little Oasis-wide station. There are also those with Engineering degrees of all kinds who wanted to be employed to help work on the station and keep it running. Our own scientists and engineers were happy with the help.
“Since there’s no real money system, there’s no incentive for the work other than pride and lack of other things to do. Some of the teenagers have been hanging out in the gaming area, playing various arcade and video games and just having a good time together. Others have been trying to find more ways to amuse themselves. I saw a group of them in a band-like formation, with a couple of guitarists, a drummer, and a singer.
“The music wasn’t really all that good.
“I think, for the one-month log, I should show some of the people off to everyone watching.”
The next thing that’s visible is one of the corridors leading away from the Atrium, where all sorts of people are walking back and forth. The view is as if Adam Smith is using a handheld recorder. His voice is audible from off-screen. “Here’s a first-hand view at the survivors. Let’s see if we can find someone I recognize.”
Smith’s voice is easy to hear, even through the considerably loud commotion going on all around him. It is as if he has some sort of microphone that is hooked up to the recorder. It isn’t hard to hear the muffled recognition of the crowd, though, as he walks through them. “Good day, Mr. Smith,” and “Hello, Mr. Smith,” is heard often enough throughout this section.
“Ah, here we go,” he says, approaching an older man wearing an ancient-looking cassock. “Viewers, meet Father Kearney, who I’ve mentioned before.”
The man is clean-shaven with short-cut gray hair. His eyes are a cerulean-blue color, and seem full of benevolence. “God’s blessings to you,” he says.
“I’ve been doing a series of logs for the startup of Oasis and other special occasions,” we hear Smith say, “and I thought it would be good to be out amongst the people of Oasis for the one-month special. Do you have any thoughts about this milestone of a day?”
“I wasn’t sure we’d make it,” Father Kearney replies, looking thoughtful. “My whole life, I thought that this event was God’s way of telling us that He was ready for us to be with Him, and when I heard of this scapegoat, I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Apparently, though, God wants to clean up the Earth. Just like he did with Noah and the Great Flood.”
“So you think that we’re God’s chosen people, then?” Smith’s reply doesn’t seem skeptical so much as genuinely questioning.
“That’s not what I’m saying,” Father Kearney smiles, “but I’m glad you’re thinking about it. Who are we to understand the infinite wisdom of God? His plans are His own, and they will be revealed to us when He decides to reveal them. I think that everyone here has something to preserve, the best of the world before. Information can be passed down, but trades can only be learned from a master. We’re lucky to have the diversity we do. But I don’t know that we are God’s chosen, no.”
“Alright then,” Smith responds. “Do you have any useful –or useless—trivia to tell the viewers?”
“Actually, yes,” the priest responds. “Did you know that the word ‘Goodbye’ is a simplification of the old farewell, ‘God be with ye’? Etymology is a hobby of mine, and I think it’s astounding the impact that Christianity has had on the English language, and any language, for that matter.”
“That’s actually pretty interesting,” Smith says. “But I should get going. Can’t spend all day with you. Goodbye, Father.”
“God be with ye, Adam,” Father Kearney walks off screen at this time.
“Let’s see if we can find Dreaxanla. She’d be an interesting one to talk to.” Again, the recorder moves, and we’re transported through the crowd as if on foot. Smith is talking again, into the little microphone he has. “Father Kearney is a pool of information about religion. I love talking to him. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve learned more from talking to him than I ever did in school.”
A red light starts flashing suddenly, and a siren blares loudly for a second. Smith is heard yelling over it, telling people to get to their homes and await further instruction. “It’s not a problem,” he yells, “we’ll instruct you further once it’s under control! Remain calm!”
Other engineers and scientists are yelling the same thing in the background as Adam turns the recorder back toward him. “Alright,” he says, “it seems we have a crack in one of the walls. Easy fix, but I’ll need to direct it. I’ll explain it in the next log, whenever I have time. Seventh log over.”
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