Post by Zero on Aug 22, 2009 1:24:20 GMT -4
Prologue
This is the last testament of Dr. Aven Nero.
May those who hear these words too find their way and place in hope of a brighter future.
"Before the Dawn "
I.
Since childhood I have always been fascinated by robots. Mechanical wonders built to serve
mankind. That is what would dominate my innocent mind throughout grade school.
I was well known for my love of robotics by the faculty as well as my peers. I showed much
promise in my future. I had good support from my teachers. My peers though were not so happy for
me.
It has been said before of how cruel children could be. The measure of that cruelty all too often
goes forgotten.
I've had my drawings crumbled, or torn. I couldn't play sports, as I was not competitive in
nature, and did not like being controlled. I was ostrasized and beaten for my perceived weakness.
Any attempts at association were met with rejection and failure. I often ate alone. Occasionally
a bully would take my food. I remember my head being pushed and slammed into the lunch table,
then found my milk had been taken, and my papers scattered on the dirty floor.
I cried, I told, I sought help. Each time I was told that the cruelty of my peers was due to
jealousy. It was seen as a normal phase in life.
How could such one sided torment be normal?
To this day, I have and will never accept such a view.
My family was not among the elites of society. we were among the despised. The undesirable. Poor.
I remember my father returning home every day, tired and filth ridden. We lived in a slum.
The ceiling of the bathroom was partially collapsed and moldy, and there was a hole in the wall
that lead to the adjoining apartment. We barely ever had heat. I remember my father screaming
over the phone at a city official who operated the building. I was very sick at the time.
Finally, after his voice was gone from the yelling, he took a bucket, and placed a faucet head
into it. We would boil water and use the bucket to shower.
Eventually I learned to reset the boiler in the basement, which broke down often. The basement
was humid, but cold. The smell of sewage was overpowering. It was by force that I was able to go
in.
A new toy was a rare thing for me. I perhaps recieved at least 3 or 5 gifts yearly. I never had
video games. The very best my mother would give me was books she would find thrown out. Reading
would be a primary time passer for me, since I was not permitted to join my peers outside, who
had the tendency towards loose and even destructive behavior.
Those books formed my imagination. Whole worlds with tales of adventure, tribulation, and
resolve. So much different than our own. They were my escape from the world.
I would think that the endurance of my parents and thier caring for me in those straits would have
had an effect on my world outlook. But in my ignorance, it would be many years before I could
truly appreciate the fruits of their labors.
II.
High school is the time when you begin to become the man that will identify you for the rest of
you life. This does not mean the the capacity for change is null.
My home life had not changed much. The effects of my childhood were apparent. I was an outcast, a
pessimist, and very indignant towards the world. I found others who held the same train of mind
as I. We formed a rather small clique who would stand apart from the jocks and socially
conforming groups.
It would be improper to say I was non-conformist, since we all submit to some form of thinking no
matter how much we try to set ourselves apart.
I often kept to myself, buried in my reading, a habit I had formed from my childhood. Even in my
clique I was quiet. Even though our view of the world was alike, I would never be one of them.
They often spoke of revenge, plots to unroot the status qou, or revolution. All those words
proved to be powerless. They wouldn't know what to do with that kind of power. In all their talk
of fairness, they would only see violence as a tool.
I would witness the fights that broke out between them and the jocks. They certainly drew a
crowd, but change hearts and minds they did not. They were mere spectacles.
In my solitude, I faced reality. The world is a dark place geared against us in every way. What
we could do individually is only so limited, in a world that has become complacent to this
unfortunate fact.
The best we could do is endure and live only to one's capacity.
This is what I came to believe and lived by during my young manhood. Still, I couldn't help but
question it all.
I continued to study robotics, and on the side I studied social behavior, or psychology; all
throughout the rest of my school days and university. My peers would only be subjects for my
observation in the field. Oh what a mess it is. Humans, so selfish and greedy to a destructive
and oppressive means.
Then I remember my own parents. Thier love set them apart in my eyes from the rest of the world.
I took them for granted, and realized how inward I myself had thought in the days of my youth.
I changed. I would put my knowledge to good use, and serve to be a useful member of society.
However, I would not forget my origins, nor would I seek to rule. My life I would live in
moderation, simple and humble.
The world would not change. In fact, it became worse with the next generation, and I began to
fear for one after. What I could do was a thought lost to me.
I became an innovative professor of robotics of course. Well past the half way point of my
career, I met a woman named Nora Wakeman.