THEY — Chapter 3 — Education
What follows is chapter three of my book “THEY”. If you are looking for a different chapter, check the INDEX — or check the rest of my stories on my MEDIUM profile: Caralynn Scott — Medium
All material is original and I own the copyright. Subsequent chapters will be published (as long as Medium allows). Your comments are VERY welcome below, so please let me know what you think. Although the book is completely written, your feedback may help to make improvements to future chapters of the story which may (hopefully) be actually published at some point in the future!
CHAPTER 3 — Education
Learning is, of course, a lifelong experience.
Long before Jennic began formal schooling, they were already learning the basics of math, science, and communication in verbal, written, and visual forms through lessons delivered by Arti discreetly through the use of play. Being naturally inquisitive and logical in their approach, they enjoyed the challenges and information the Arti’s provided, and their retention of that information was also impressive.
Children frequently followed the occupations of their parents and so, at home, education was extended by instruction from each of an individual’s caregivers. In Jennic’s case, Navlin shared their work in the governing bodies of the communities, exposing Jennic to policy and legislation and how those were generated through consultation and input from those in each region. Praija, similarly, shared their work in food processing and distribution.
In each case, Jennic would show great interest in the similarities of the processes behind the tasks and less in the outcomes of either particular occupation. For instance, with Navlin, Jennic studied the process of creating the policies but had difficulty understanding why it was necessary to have them in the first place. With Praija, Jennic grasped the coordination involved, but failed to appreciate the culinary art — the presentation and the experiences surrounding food.
After the summer of their fourth orbit, it was time for Jennic to begin the more formal part of their education, involving structured parts of their day interacting with other learners, working on projects, and interacting in a variety of more social settings. The prevailing thought being that the combination of socialization in a communal educational setting completing practical projects and exercises, coupled with the individualized learning facilitated at home with the Arti’s, would round out a child and prepare them for a full and fruitful life.
By the time Jennic was ready for their first day of school, they were already well prepared, possessing ample vocabulary and a grasp of many mathematical principles. Still, as Jennic toddled away from them with the group of first orbiters, both Praija and Navlin were nervous about the social environment and Jennic’s ability to work with other children within it. They had plenty of opportunities to make friends, but in spite of frequent visits to and by other children, they seemed unable to build or maintain any close connections. The children they met were simply not part of Jennic’s world. Instead, Jennic preferred to play the learning games with the Arti’s over spending time with other children.
Praija believed Jennic was simply shy, however, Navlin had noticed they had no trouble interacting when they wanted to, however, they rarely were inclined to. It seemed that children merely represented random acquaintances, artifacts in their life, rather than potential friends. So Jennic remained aloof, and alone.
Praija continued to believe, or at least hope that Jennic would eventually grow out of this stage. They continued to remind everyone that Jennic was perfectly normal, and they would eventually find their way out of these peculiarities. Navlin parroted Praija’s beliefs when asked by their friends, but continued to harbour thoughts that there was something unusual about Jennic, unable to quantify it enough to communicate clearly what that was.
“All right children.” The adult in the classroom said, clapping their hands together three times to attract the young one’s attention. Interaction with adult humans was eventually necessary for the children to join and function with the rest of society, and so human instructors and mentors were introduced to acclimatize the young ones into human systems and the broader world. “Everyone, find a workstation.”
Many adults found fulfillment in performing the task of human instructor. Fralpa was a kind and generous soul who felt a responsibility to pass on knowledge of all kinds and cared deeply for their charges. At the same time, they would not give an inch on discipline if it were required. They would, however, be quick to forgive a child if they should err without intention.
There were plenty of desks, and everyone had their own idea where they would prefer to sit. Little feet scurried around, sometimes followed by a random shove, as everyone jostled for their favoured place. One scrambled to be at the back, another rushed to the front. Some, who had already made friends since coming this morning, or were with those they already knew, negotiated seats next to their companion.
“What is the matter Jennic?”, Fralpa asked Jennic with a practiced, calming voice and welcoming eyes. The little one was still standing by the door, hands clenched tightly in front of them and eyes gathering dampness around the edges. “Hurry, now, let’s find your seat.”
Jennic did not move. “I don’t know where…”
The other students had already taken all but a few chairs, so the choices were reduced significantly. Believing that limiting the options further would make it easier for Jennic to select a place, the teacher motioned from across the room and offered two. “There is still a seat here in front of me Jennic. Or would you prefer to sit at the back, close to the window? You pick one.”
Jennic stood silently for a few more moments looking back and forth between the seats while everyone waited and stared at them, then quickly and decisively moved to the center of the room, and sat quietly, placing their bag on the floor beside them.
Fralpa looked at the new student quizzically. Their mouth opened as if to say something. They paused, took a short breath, and decided it was better not to voice their curiosity, but instead continued, “Good, now let’s get on with our day, shall we? Everyone, please complete the information on the workstation in front of you as this will be your seat for the rest of this study cycle.”
The students began mumbling at their translucent screens hovering above the forward part of their desks, dutifully supplying their names, birth dates and caregivers’ names when prompted. Naturally, the systems already knew who was sitting in each seat, but the exercise served as an ice breaker and a simple assessment of how each student was progressing with reading, comprehension, and verbal skills. Whether at home with the Artis or here in the classroom, education is always a constant cycle of syllabus, tasks, testing, re-evaluating learning strategies and adapting additional content to the individual.
“Jennic? Why are you not providing your information?” Fralpa asked.
“It seems silly when it already knows.” Jennic replied almost saucily as if it should be self-evident.
The teacher was puzzled again but decided it would be better to learn more about Jennic as they went than try to coax it out of someone who likely did not yet know themselves well enough to explain. “Well… you will complete the task anyway.” To which Jennic answered with a huff, then dutifully completed the forms on the screen.
Through the coming months, the students were led through a sampling of tasks and presentations that related to a variety of occupations providing a taste of many potential future careers. This way, the children would have the opportunity to learn where their interests lay and help them decide what direction their personal journey would take them.
Many of the students in the class advanced through the work at generally the same level. Jennic was attentive and excelled when it came to academics, especially math and science and so, quickly outpaced the others in those areas, increasingly forcing Jennic to study more on their own. Though they thrived on the independent work, unfortunately this did not help Jennic develop their interpersonal relationships. They continued to remain solitary.
Fralpa quite liked Jennic, feeling a fondness for them beyond that of the other students, though they could never quite decide whether it was genuine appreciation of Jennic’s quick mind, or a mild pity surrounding their lack of social conformity. Over the course of the orbit, though the star student never really enjoyed connecting with others, Jennic learned to cope and interact with their peers in a semi-functional way.
Not long after the beginning of the fifth orbit, the class assignment was to design and build a model of an ancient steam engine before the winter solstice. With small groups of five-orbiters, the project typically never amounted to much more than imaginative drawings and a crude non-functional model of some kind of vehicle on tracks. The real goal of the task was to have the class learn how to work together as a group to accomplish an end result. No one was concerned how good the final product was.
At first, Jennic stayed typically quiet, allowing the other students to bicker about what their train might look like, who would draw it, who would acquire the parts, who would assemble it and so on. But to the teacher’s amazement, it did not take long before Jennic began contributing particularly clever ideas. The other students, who were never invested much more than to achieve the goal of bringing the whole task to a satisfactory completion, began listening intently as Jennic explained the mechanics that would actually make a steam engine work.
Jennic showed some frustration in the lack of competence in their group, though, mind you, they were slightly above average for their age. None of them ever lost their composure, and within a week, Jennic had taken charge, assigned tasks to the class members, and begun directing them, coordinating their efforts.
With the help of verbalised instructions to the Arti’s and a 3D metal fabricator, by the end of the project, Jennic and the class had a fully functioning half-metre long metal steam engine and eight metres of circular track for it to actually run on. It was a triumph, even for much older children. The whole educational complex was astounded and came by the classroom to see it.
Jennic’s peers were ecstatic that they had accomplished something no-one of their age before them had ever done. Many children made sincere efforts to befriend Jennic, but Jennic continued to remain detached, avoiding any close relationship with any of them, not even participating in their party to celebrate their success with the project.
Not long after, Navlin & Praija were arranging Jennic’s sixth Orbit Celebration and invited many of the same group to attend, many of whom agreed to come.
In a time when everything can be ordered through ARI and printed or delivered instantly by drone or Arti, it seems an odd practice to give useless trinkets, however, the tradition is deeply rooted in the human race and gifts continue to be offered. The gifts, of course, become less about what a person desires or what their practical needs are than a recognition of an individual’s “self” or the personal connection between the giver and the receiver. Without any real friendship, however, no classmate really knew what Jennic’s likes and dislikes were, making the selection extremely difficult. Navlin and Praija, were asked frequently by parents what Jennic might like but they had little advice to offer. Jennic themselves spent hours scrolling through digital catalogues of items trying to decide what they liked but could give very few answers.
In one of the catalogues, a posted notice for an historical exhibit presented at a place not far from their home, grabbed Jennic’s attention. Contained within the announcement was something called a photograph — a fixed, physical item displaying a two-dimensional representation of a scene. Jennic followed the link to find more information on the museum and was drawn deeper into the images, Jennic envisioned being in each situation the images portrayed. Looking longingly at the ancient artifacts they contained, they continued scrolling, enchanted by objects that were long obsolete and no longer used — or even seen. One image in particular kept drawing them back. Any contemporary would have considered it a useless item, of no practical value. But somehow Jennic found themselves wanting one, and intuitively knew this was what they would ask for.
At dinner, Navlin brought up the subject of the Orbit Celebration, and asked Jennic if they had made a list of the things they would like. This time, Jennic was ready with an answer.
“A dollhouse… and a doll” Jennic exclaimed, excitedly.
“What in Sol are those?” Navlin asked, screwing up their face like a puzzle dropped on the floor.
Jennic grabbed the nearest visualizer and recalled an image they had obsessed over for hours. Both Navlin and Praija studied it intently, recognizing the object as a dwelling of some kind but perplexed by the disproportionately shaped figure inside it, which seemed lifeless, even soulless. “You want your own place?” Praija queried with a sad look, thinking the doll house was a representation of a full-scale home.
“No, no, no!” Jennic chirped, “it’s a model — a playhouse. The figure is a doll, and you can pose it whatever way you want. You pretend they are in different situations, and you let your imagination tell stories about how they react. It looks like so much fun and I’ve never seen one before. Can I please have one?”
“Well, that IS unusual. I shall have to do some research to find out how we could obtain one of those.”
“Well…” Jennic looked at Navlin, raising their shoulders and withdrawing into themselves like a tortoise hiding in its shell. Giving a sideways glance as if too nervous to look directly at Navlin, Jennic offered more, “… There is one more thing.”
“What would that be?”
“There’s this exhibit… At the museum… I would like to go.”
“Whatever will you think of next Jennic!” Navlin paused and considered this for a moment. Jennic was showing more interest in this than anything Navlin could remember. Clearly it was important to them. Perhaps, the hopeful parent conjectured, they were finally finding a path for themselves. Perhaps they had an interest in history. Why else would they have wanted this doll house and a doll for their birthday?
At least now, knowing where Jennic found such an object, Navlin had some idea where they would gain information helpful in obtaining one of these odd gifts. Surely, the museum would be able to provide a replica of some kind. Perhaps Navlin could even find a catalogue of gift ideas when they made a reservation through ARI.
Knowing a gathering of Jennic’s peers was not a particularly attractive prospect to the young one, Navlin offered an alternative. “Why of course. You and I and Praija will make a family outing of it. We will cancel the party and instead we will spend the day together, the day of your sixth orbit celebration. Agreed?”
“Yes, yes.” Jennic said excitedly, unable to hold their enthusiasm as they jumped around the room.
Being an even numbered orbit, six was one of the bigger years, but the friends who were struggling to think of gifts seemed relieved when Praija explained to them that the family had decided to keep things more intimate for this celebration and they decided that the three of them would celebrate at the museum during their visit.
Navlin arranged an entrance time, a meal, and of course reserved the gifts that would be waiting for them at the end of their visit. Jennic could not contain their excitement. Over the next few weeks, as the day drew closer, their energy level grew exceedingly high, however they remained on their best behaviour, not wishing to upset their caregivers and possibly loose the opportunity. Praija had never seen Jennic comply so easily to requests for help. Honestly, at times they could be somewhat obstinate.
The day eventually arrived and Jennic was up well before the alarm, dressing quickly and waking Navlin and Praija, practically pushing them out of their bed. Jennic would have left for the museum that moment if Praija had not reminded them they had a fixed entrance time and that they had plenty of time for breakfast before that. Jennic’s foot never stopped tapping while they sat at the table, nor did it rest at any moment on the journey to the museum.
As they stepped out of the tube, they were met by a human curator who instructed them to follow a small guide Arti who would provide answers to any questions they might have about the exhibits. Praija and Navlin were well educated and had a broad base of general knowledge, so they recognized many of the objects on display, however, seeing genuine artifacts somehow made them seem more real. Many items were original and at one time were actually used for the purpose they were created. The couple were fascinated.
The Arti took them through a variety of exhibits displaying discoveries and objects from a plethora of historical periods. Navlin was intrigued by the early forms of transportation and how they developed over the many centuries; particularly something called an automobile which seemed oddly named as there was nothing much automatic about it at all until the mid 23rd century when they finally began to drive themselves with enough intelligence that the operator could let down their guard. There was also an interesting exhibit explaining the first trans-national tube systems, the tunnels for which were in place well before the trans continental ones were built in the early 30th and the hypersonic world-wide tube system that everyone now travelled in, replacing those tubes in the early 5th millennium. In their head, Navlin tried to map out some of the places those old tubes had been reused, and places where they had been abandoned, wondering if any of them still existed, or if they had long ago collapsed.
Jennic, was unimpressed by any of this, and swiftly bounced from object to object, none holding their attention for long. Even the fossil exhibit, with live beasts genetically reconstituted from the fossil records buried millennia ago, held no interest for Jennic, though it did seem to be a huge attraction for other children gathered in hordes at the viewing areas. Jennic had a singular focus that only heightened as they approached the 20th century exhibit.
“What odd clothing.” Praija remarked as they walked past a “1960's” exhibit with colourfully printed patterned materials and odd symbols hung on ropes or leather strings. It all seemed so ostentatious. “Why would they want to draw such attention to themselves? Can you imagine? Strutting about like a peacock with feathers in full plume? They must have thought themselves especially important to dress like that!”
“Not at all,” Navlin commented, reading a plaque, “They were actually quite peaceful and believed they should love one another, not hate… they would demonstrate for disarmament and succeeded to some extent. Perhaps that is why the bright clothing; to draw attention to their cause? … Oh wait, it seems they also expressed themselves in other rather primitive ways… Physically actually…” Navlin’s face twisted in disgust and their voice trailed off as they continued reading.
Jennic, curious, began to make their way towards the plaque, but Navlin intercepted them, “Never mind… You don’t want to see that.” Jennic’s curiosity might have driven them past Navlin if they were still not focussed on getting to the exhibit they had come for. Without thinking much more about it, Jennic shrugged and continued on with the tour.
Eventually, they arrived at the restored 7000-year-old artifact Jennic had seen in the catalogue and stood transfixed, staring intently.
“People actually lived in one of those.” Praija offered, “Well, not one of those of course, that’s just a model, but a full sized one. Our ancestors were shorter back then, but not that short. They didn’t look like that model either — supposedly they were all fat!” This last part Praija was certain they had heard somewhere but could not remember where. “What does it say there on that plaque? ‘Barb’s Imagine House’. Well, it’s certainly not what I would imagine. I mean, where are their Arti’s? They must have had to do everything manually! How primitive!”
Jennic was not listening to Praija’s disgusted monologue but frequently muttered “um hum.” nonetheless. Unknown to their parents, Jennic was indeed imagining living in that home, and quite liked the idea of doing things completely manually without the aid of technology.
Praija nodded toward the next exhibit, “Come on Jennic, let’s move on.” But unlike the rest of the tour, Jennic was unwilling to move on from this spot. This was what they had come for. Their parents indulged them for a while, since it was their birthday, but the Arti was insistent that they continue moving forward as the crowds behind them pushed their way into the space. Besides, they still had a dinner appointment to meet. Praija gently tugging at Jennic’s tunic and finally getting them moving. Jennic was dragged more than pushed out of the room and they stared at the artifact until there was no way they could see it any longer.
Throughout the rest of the exhibits, Jennic wandered in a trance, still dreaming of the little house. Only one other item in the museum catching their attention: an object from roughly the same historic period, perhaps two hundred years later. In the exhibit, there was a small, non-intelligent android like device that replicated a human form playing with small figures that looked like children. According to a plaque, it portrayed a scene called the “Living room with child playing.”
The dolls were the first thing that caught Jennic’s eye, but then they became entranced with what the little android was wearing. “What is that?” they asked Navlin who was still reading every plaque they passed.
“…this says it’s called a ‘dress’. It evolved from earlier centuries and was popular in the 18th, 19th and early 20th century, gradually becoming less popular over time. By the 54th century it was no longer worn as genetic distinctions between male and female disappeared.”
“Male and female?” Jennic asked, unfamiliar with the terms.
“Yes. In those days, humans were divided in many different ways. They categorized themselves by different qualities like the colour of their hair or skin, their beliefs, and even by biological distinctions like the shape of their eyes. Smaller, more agile, and highly intelligent ones they called females and larger, stronger, cunning ones they called males. Unfortunately, those divisions became an excuse for all manner of conflict between categories of people as one inevitably felt superior to the other.”
“Sounds dreadful!” Praija exclaimed.
“It was. There is quite a lengthy article here about it though, and how we managed to rise above it.” Navlin read aloud:
As the number of humans on Earth grew beyond the capacity of the planet to support them, methods of population control became necessary. At the end of the 26th century, a permit was required to have a child, and a permit could only be obtained upon a registered death.
As medical science developed, lifespans continued to lengthen to well over 100 years, but the narrow window of fertility in the species remained only 20–30 years. Entire generations found themselves childless not by choice, but due to government restrictions. Many, of course, did not obey the laws and the number of births continued to outpace the number of deaths around the world. Ethical and moral dilemmas of enacting forced sterilization and euthanasia plagued politics for many centuries.
By the 31st century it became scientifically possible to grow an embryo from fertilized egg to full term infant completely in an artificial womb. By the 33rd it was possible to combine the genomes of any two individuals and create a new genetically viable embryo. While many believed these advances would make the population problem worse, they were welcomed as miracles by sterile pairings who were unable to reproduce biologically. Even those who could naturally carry a child welcomed the alternate as it no longer required them to set aside careers, derailing years of training and work, or risk the dangers of pregnancy and birth.
Humanity continued to struggle with over population throughout the 43rd century. But by far, the majority of humans no longer procreated through copulation. Birthing farms genetically manufactured new embryos with spliced DNA from donor parents and developed them in the natal centers we know today. By the 54th century, this had become the only method of procreation.
Science continued learning, genetically suppressing sexual characteristics in embryos so humans would no longer be inclined to reproduce biologically. “Male” and “female” became harder to distinguish from one another as new generations became more androgynous.
For four millennia, humanity has lived this way: natural procreation completely unnecessary, and thousands of years of tweaking the human genome has reduced the need to androgenize the embryos from donor parents who are already born neutral.
Humanity has become homogeneous and synergistic. The divisions between people have fallen away. Without competition between sexes, races, social classes, or any of a hundred other ways humanity found to divide themselves, cooperation thrived. This is the utopian society we know today, where everyone’s accomplishments are celebrated in unity and without division.
“They did not value everyone the way we do.” Navlin summarized. “Aren’t you glad we have evolved past this Jennic? Now our lives are happy, filled with discovery and pleasure.”
Jennic’s young mind was churning, attempting to correlate and understand all of what Navlin had read. They did not yet have the experience to process it completely, but somehow it felt like there was something missing, and they tucked the thoughts away in the back of their brain, quietly processing it in the background.
The trio moved on, eventually ending the tour in a small room where they were served a synthetic meal of sushi, and of course ending with scrambled eggs. After the meal, an Arti delivered the replica dream house for Jennic, and a set of dolls comprising a “household grouping.” They were all miniatures of the original they had seen, which Navlin was thankful for. A full size one would have been difficult to take home or find room for in their living space.
Jennic began to play with the miniature family as soon as they received it, and on the tube ride all the way back to their living complex. Over and over, Jennic placed the little figures in different configurations, representing situations they thought the family might have encountered, though of course they really had no clue what challenges that little family from so long ago might have faced, or how they would have behaved.
Praija and Navlin watched with immense pride as Jennic seeming to show an interest in history. Was it just wishful parental thinking that Jennic might one day become an anthropologist or sociologist or possibly even create new exhibits in the very museum they had just visited?
Still, Praija thought it odd the way Jennic was so interested in the personal dynamics of the little figures. Why were they so interested in interpersonal relationships with these dolls when they struggled with it in the real world? Looking at Navlin, Praija whispered this concern; “That really is odd behaviour for Jennic, isn’t it?” then admitted something they never thought they would hear themselves say, “Maybe Nanya was onto something.”
The next few days, Jennic became a recluse, playing with the new toys in their room any time they were able.
