Hibernate-Liberate

“Wow! You’re right, Martin. This is the most crowded of all DonDates.” 

“Of course, it is! I’m telling you, more people have been signing up to come over. I hear the authorizations are hitting new records, some people are even jumping two DonDates at a time.”

“Martin? Hey,” I said. 

“Hello. Sorry, I’m at a loss here. You do look familiar.” 

“It’s Owen. From football practice? Last time I saw you was five years ago.” 

“Owen! What took you so long? Where the hell have you been?!” 

“Don’t ask. The prices have gone through the roof. You’re lucky your family authorized back then.” 

“You still use money?” the girl asked. 

“Of course. How else will you pay to get here? I’m Owen.” 

“Gia,” she pointed at her shadow-thing we all had, “Even if you still use it, I thought money is in abundance there.” 

“Because you people don’t use it here anymore? You would think, but the truth is it’s never been more in shortage. And the prices to get here are unrealistic. It’s almost impossible to get the first DonDate now.”

“Well, it is getting crowded. They have a point,” said the third one whose shadow read “Nash”. 

"HELLLLOOO DONDATERS! ARE YOU READY FOR NUMBER FIVE?" 

Number five? I thought this was the forth. “What are the other four?” 

“Doneat, Dondrink, Dondress, Donsleep. You don’t know this? You must have all previous four if you’re to be here,” said Gia. 

“Oh, I do. I just got Doneat and Dondrink as one update.” 

“See, I told you. Now, shut up all of you. They’re about to say it. I’m so excited I’ll puke,” always-excited Martin said. 

Since the girl seemed to be the more knowledgeable and less puke-likely out of the three, I asked her, “What do you think number five is going to be?” 

“I’m not sure. It was easy to guess the previous three. You sign up with Doneat, and what’s after food? Drink. You kind of pick it up. But I think number five’s got to do with houses. I’m guessing maybe the clone will have a feature so that it exfoliates into a place where you can ReCharge. In other words, you can be home anywhere.” 

So, this shadow-thing is called a clone.  

"CITIZENS OF THE WORLD, THIS IS NUMBER 5!”

A flashing light kept pulsing for countdown. It went completely dark for a moment before the flash blazed the whole place again.

“Well, this is something,” I said.

A word manifested: DonHide. 

The performing voice continued, "To function in full power, there is yet another element that takes up your time. In fact, it takes up most of your time. Number five offers you a radical change to your life. Handout is now available." 

Everyone clicked something on their “clones.” I did the same, not really knowing what it does. 

"Number 5: everything about you, the DonDater, will be concluded by our powerful AI to a single word. THE WORD is a summary of everything you are." 

I didn’t know what was more noteworthy, what was being said or the fact that everyone was hearing exactly the same thing at exactly the same time, but each had to listen to it isolated (that’s what the click was for).

"Each DonDater is to have their personal, customized word. It’s not for anyone else except you and will be displayed on your clone. 

Wait for the activation! It’ll be out before you go to sleep – wait! You don’t have to do that anymore!"

The voice turned ceremonious, and the isolation ceased. 

"You…DON’T HAVE TO DO THAT ANYMORE! 

YOU DON’T HAVE TO SLEEP! YOU DON’T HAVE TO EAT OR DRINK OR CHANGE YOUR CLOTHES! YOU DON’T NEED TO WORK FOR ANOTHER HOUR. YOU DON’T NEED TO MAKE MONEY! 

And now you don’t need to EXPLAIN YOURSELF anymore! 

You have all the time in the world. Do whatever the hell you feel like! How’s that for a deal?" 

“Well, I guess I was wrong,” Gia said, “This is more level-up than I thought. I don’t understand how this will work. Soon, my clone should display a word and I won’t need to ‘explain myself anymore’. What's this word supposed to be about? I don’t think it’ll just be your most dominant trait. It’s got to be more than that.” 

“Maybe they’ll use a combination of letters that refer to other words. Like an acronym,” I said.

“Don’t act like you know what it’ll be. You’re ruining the fun,” Martin said dancing. 

Here’s a confession: I don’t like it here. Not one bit. I’ve been here for less than two hours and am already regretting it. This “number five” is dangerous territory. 

“Aren’t you guys going home first? Might be a while before the activation.” 

“Home? Your friend is funny,” said Nash. 

“We don’t do that here. Home isn’t a thing anymore. It’s just for ReCharge, and that’s like every – pfft, I don’t know. C’mon, I’ll show you the new coffee shop.”

“Five’s a bit much,” said Gia, “They’ve crossed into a dangerous territory.” 

This place was getting interesting. Someone here thinks differently.

 ***

The ReCharge is a thirty-day period that happens every ninety days. It’s by far the darkest feature of this whole “DonDate” world they created six years ago. It’s when the "DonDaters" get their sum-ups: food, water and beverages, fabric, and sleep. The sum-up is an irrationally huge amount of said elements that “drips” throughout the ninety-day period – before they need to renew it. It installs on the clone which in turn drips it very slowly to the user. 

The thirty-day-upload period is primarily controlled by the sleep-hours input. Eight hours per day for ninety days adds up to thirty days. Before the DonSleep update, the ReCharge took less time.

Here’s the catch, they think we’ve become super-humans who don’t need food or sleep. But the truth is we’re just being immured and released. That’s why I call it the Hibernate-Liberate Autocracy.

It gets worse. They have no idea how long anything takes. Time here is lost for good! They don’t know they "re-charge" for thirty days. By the time the DonSleep update was introduced, people here have grown illiterate of time.

They don’t eat or sleep or shower (the installed fabric is self-cleaning and skin-cleansing). It’s fairly normal they have no idea whether it’s been a day or two – or a month. 

Gatherings aren’t a thing anymore. There are no New Year’s Eves, Hanukkahs, Ramadans, festivals, or birthdays. They have all the time in the world as promised, but they have no idea when it starts or ends. They’re promised longer lives and better health. That they get. They’re promised financial security and eliteness. That they get. They’re promised infinite provision of sum-ups and updates. And that they get. 

But what do they give in return? Are they that lost to believe they can live life to the fullest without paying for it continuously? Without mutual give and take?

I’m here to find out the real price. I just have to follow the plan. All I need is to focus and to remind myself to check the time regularly like I’ve been practicing for the last five years. Regardless of my situation, I’d check the time every ten minutes in my waking hours. For the last five years, I’ve been training my internal clock – it’s now as accurate as it gets. 

I won’t be activating the new update, either. It’ll be a first for the Hibernate-Liberate people to witness such thing. It shouldn't be long before they send me the “reminders” to activate soon.

I read the undertaking inked on my arm, “Go out, check sun, check moon, track days, find out price, GET OUT.” It’s written backward because I can read that way at normal speed, and others can’t.

“Interesting tattoo,” Gia noticed. She’s always noticing.

“It’s gibberish, I don’t like to stick to actual words.”

Updates are said to be available in two hours. I checked my watch, it’s been nine hours.

For nine hours they chatted, and “waited” for the activation. What were they chatting about, one may wonder. I kept mental notes of the topics that stirred up:

-Update Activation 

-Newest coffee shop is now “DonDaters” restricted. 

-It’s been a while since Lexie tagged along, she’s in ReCharge. 

-Update Activation. 

-I think she likes the guy in shorts over at introvert table.

-Update Activation. Update Activation. Update Activation.

“GUYS! It’s out!”

Martin’s voice snapped me out of my mental notebook. I watched as everyone’s phones beeped and their voices went loud in excitement. Words started to pop out on the clones: SPILLED, GROVER, MOLTAK. Do these words even mean something? 

Martin’s word read AUSTERE. While he may be a lot of things, austere isn’t one of them. “Martin, it doesn’t make sense. You? Austere?”

“Doesn’t work like that. Look.” 

There are instructions, then. I read along: "Read your WORD but don’t translate it. That’s not what you are. You are the letters. Please read through the How-to instructions." 

There was a long list of letters followed by words:

A: Amiable 

B: Bleak 

C: Courteous

There were two drop-down menus for font and color. When you choose from them, a whole new list appears. 

I was right. Acronyms.

I tried to test it on MOLTAK. Apparently, he’s mature, orderly, listless, touchy, awkward, and kowtow–  

Wow, that’s offensive! 

“Some of these are pretty upfront,” I said. 

“They mentioned the words go from positive to negative, so.”

In other words, the “good news first” approach. MOLTAK looked fine with it, though. As did everyone else. In fact, I think MOLTAK is happy he’s a mature and orderly kowtow. 

Did I just call him “MOLTAK”? 

Seems legit. I don’t know the guy’s name, what am I supposed to call him other than the only thing I know about him? I won’t even bother to get to know the guy.

This is worse than I expected. 

***

“Dude, activate your update already!” 

“I don’t feel like it.” That’s a lie. I’m literally fighting myself not to click the thing. 

“AUSTERE, what about SAKIN. She’s just your type.” 

Martin went over the list, “Smart, alert, kempt, insensitive, narcissist?! What the hell, man?!” 

“Whoops, that’s not Futura Book, is it? Those fonts are ridiculously alike.” 

Aside from the match-up game, there wasn’t much going on here at numb-land. For the last months, everything has gone downhill in the dating department. And the friendship department. Actually, in all the interpersonal departments. I’ve seen a total of six couples kissing, four making out, and zero first dates. Nobody went past the “check their acronym” phase and managed to actually approach the person. There was an hourly rate of breakups that went from two to seven. Eight, as of today. The past three months are supposed to be part of the “twenty-day” wait for number five’s add-on. According to my calculations, it should be available any time today.

“Over there: polite, intellectual, artistic, possessive, and overcritical. Gia, I think you should go for PIAPO.” 

Gia seemed to be considering it. I felt a stab in my chest as I watched her. But I knew she won’t go for it.

It’s always the last letter of every acronym. When all is said and done, nobody wants to have a relationship with a narcissist or a kowtow. Hadn’t they known it beforehand, they might’ve been able to tolerate it. But something about having the words written up there, next to each person, makes it an absolute and irrevocable no.

Some are turned off by the positive traits. It’s not too absurd if you think about it. The first letter means “too much” of the trait, the most this person’s got. Would you be crazy about those whose first letter stands for altruist? Sweet? Intelligent they might outsmart you? People tend to chicken out, from what I’ve observed.

That’s what happens when you reduce a human being to five or six words. They’ll never be enough or acceptable.

“I’ll pass,” Gia said. 

That felt nice – those butterflies. I wonder when’s the last time someone here felt those. I wonder when’s the last time she did. 

“Aren’t you bored? No acronym, no chatting. You’re awfully silent all the time,” Nash told me when he was finished with his match-up game.

“He watches in silence,” Gia said. 

***

The add-on threw me off balance. I didn’t know what to make of it. 

"By now you already know your WORD. You know what it stands for. You know what you are. There’s only one thing left: Who is responsible for you being this way? Who gave these words to you? 

Your WORD will be re-assigned, letter by letter. Whoever gave you a letter, they shall receive back. Don’t be surprised if you receive some yourself! These are ones you're responsible for. You don’t have to think about it again. The puzzle is solved."

The DonHide isn’t a blame act. Some of these words are positive – receiving them back is acknowledgment. What are they trying to do? Expose everything? Remove any need for emotional confrontation?

People won’t need people. They won’t want people. 

I looked over at Gia, her “W” that stands for “worthy” was sent out to two of its three assigned destinations. Her father got one, a Nora got one, and the last one was in grey. 

I’d like to think the third one is mine and is grey because its destination isn’t yet activated. I wanted to know for sure.

“WHITE, why do you have two grey slots?” Nash asked Gia.

“Maybe they’re from the past – people who don’t have clones.” 

“And they still give you feelings? You sure hold on to stuff. I barely remember anyone from there. Except for you buddy, of course.” 

The other grey one she had was on her “received back” slots. There was one word that she should’ve received but didn’t. This one must be from me. I wonder which word they used to describe what she makes me feel. Understood? Enamored? Worthy, too? 

***

Behavior pattern of the add-on: people are detached and almost never chat. Here’s the updated activity list: 

-Wait for number 6. 

That’s it. The last of the embers burnt away. Now, even rumination and self-introspection aren’t theirs to brood over. Where do they go from here? 

Gia is the only person around who still acts like a human. She still has two grey slots she needs to figure out. They keep her going.  

By now, I have all the information I needed and should be on my way out of numb-land. But Gia’s holding me back. I need to know about her grey slots.

The system here has gotten into me as well. I won’t deny. The no need for food or sleep isn’t too bad. I’m aware that if I have the last update activated, I’ll be all figured out and won’t have any will to leave.

I reminded myself: "Go out, check sun, check moon, track days, find out price, GET OUT."

“Owen, I’m bored. Let’s play a game,” Gia said, “Maybe test this backward-reading ability of yours?”  

She took some lines and rearranged the letters. 

“Really? From the manual?” 

“Just read.”

“After an update’s activation is complete, the system is idle for ten seconds before resuming again.” 

“Wow, that was fast,” she cheered.

Idle for ten seconds? That’s my window! I can activate, check her grey slots, and exit before the ten seconds end. My system will not be active just yet and I won’t be able to see my acronym. 

I just have to be super quick. Under any circumstances, I have to ensure I’m out before my acronym appears. I’ve seen what it did to them.

I felt the adrenaline rush as I clicked Activate. I kept one eye on my watch and one eye on Gia’s clone. 

One, Two, Three –  

Her grey slot wasn’t grey anymore.

Maybe the ten seconds aren’t really ten seconds – ugh! Can’t risk it! Get there faster, Gia! 

Eight, Nine – I clicked Terminate.

“Mr. Owen, we are very sorry to see you leave.” My clone vanished and I was left with this stupid piece of metal that hosted it – along with everything there.

Along with Gia whom I didn’t get to see her reaction when she knew it was me.

I saw her “received-back” word. It was acknowledged.

***

The Hibernate-Liberate Autocracy 

They keep their promises. They’re not a scam. Here’s what you need to understand before you pay the money that’ll lead you to financial ruin. Here’s the newest promise: 

Number 5, “You’ll never need or want to figure out yourself again.” 

The add-on: “You’ll never need or want to figure out people again.” 

Last one is a winner, it gives you the ultimate promise: closure. 

You will also lose sense of time. You will sit alone. You will only wait for the next update. You won’t need people. You won’t want people. People won’t need or want you. 

Your choice. 

This is Owen, the Hibernate-Liberate Autocracy breacher and the Time Teller.

“Owen, still on the blog?” 

“Just posted.” 

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” 

“Nothing that wasn’t according to the plan. Except for Gia. But now we live in two different worlds.” 

“You regret coming back?” 

“No. I’m just wondering and my brain cells hurt.” 

“You need to get it together, soon. I need you to train me before I go in for number 6. From what you said I get it won’t be an easy job.” 

“It won’t. Are these cheese croissants? God, I’ve missed those bastards.” 

I ate one after the other, with a large vanilla cappuccino.

“Owen…how do you know Gia acknowledged you?” 

“They said – “ I paused, “Oh…”

“Sweet dreams, boss.” 

“Sweet dreams.”

But my plan only worked because she helped me. Gia saw me for who I am.

I fluffed up my pillows and dived into bed.