NIB
© 12.08.06 By Elijah. Williams

The sun crept over a gray horizon. First, it seemed reluctant to come to grips with the fact that morning had arrived and it was required to begin its arc across the sky, much as it had done since the earth existed. Today, somehow, it seemed more tired than in the past. Perhaps its apparent lack of vigor was due to the fact that it was close to twenty thousand years old.

Hugh walked down the steps of the apartment building, squinting at the low-lying sun. Next to his head hovered a small metallic sphere. This sphere looked not unlike a mirror ball one might find in novelty stores. However, beyond a casual glance, it was easy to see that it was something of far greater significance. Besides the fact that it kept an elliptical orbit just behind Hugh's head, it seemed to be emitting signals of some kind evidenced by the incessant chirping and bubbling sounds it appeared so fond of. If one were to stop and look around at various other pedestrians the small flying sphere would not appear so strange after all; every human being was being closely followed by just such an object.

Capital idea, NIBs really were. The man who was most involved in creating the first prototype had predicted they would completely change the lifestyle of man. They certainly had.

Neurological Infrastructure Bio-source. That's what NIB stood for.

The human brain processes information it receives via the senses of the body, which are transmitted to the brain through the nerves. This constitutes the Neurological Infrastructure of the body. The NIB is designed to interact with this infrastructure and provide some of the humans' environment, and conveniences useful to the user. In order to do this effectively, NIBs have built in brain wave scanners. It constantly is monitoring the brain waves of the user. It also has the capability to communicate with thousands - millions even - of other NIBs all over the world.

To overcome the distance, and the curvature of the earth, a device used to transmit micro synthetic waves (far more powerful and range capable than normal micro waves) was necessary. Hence, VMC (Vaporized Metallic Canopy) was developed and injected into the atmosphere approximately 375 miles above the earth. Nontoxic, non corrosive, the special metal Tignalthium, in its molten form made the perfect replacement for outdated expensive satellites.

The fact that the melting point of the synthetic metal and the temperature of the outer atmosphere matched beautifully made it perfect for this application: along with its other properties it facilitated efficient reflection of micro synthetic waves as well. Maintenance free, this VMC also posed no problem to should space craft entering or exiting the earth's atmosphere.

Not that any space craft ever did attempt to exit or enter the atmosphere. Space travel had long since become a thing of the past.

Hugh thought on the subject. He remembered seeing an old book on the ancient history of space travel. Apparently at one point people actually believed that there were other life forms present in the universe. There were many things he found hard to believe about people and times past. How they launched themselves up to the moon to walk around on it, orbit the earth, all kinds of crazy, dangerous stunts.

Heck, he'd walked on the moon himself - more than once. Most people had. In virtual reality ports of course. But since there had been hundreds of probes and robotic information gathering devices sent to dwell on the moon, man knew the moon's conditions better than his own backyard - if he wanted to.

Hugh chuckled at the recollection of his first moon experience. It was at a city festival where a Traveling Entertainment Specialist was operating a VR "moon port." Hugh paid his fee, and stepped under the inverted dome. Of course the usual VR access board came up with the appropriate options. However, in the excitement (or perhaps a sodden ignorant disregard for instructions), he immediately chose option "moon walk" without going through "suit sequence." The machine was in disrepair and not functioning properly and so it allowed him to bypass this necessary step (to the fault of the owner, who apparently was a somewhat dubious character). The effect, of course was what one might expect if one where to stroll about on the moon suit-less. It was the only time Hugh had appreciated the presence - no, the ever presence - of the CSS (Central Security Service) men. Those highly trained specialists had noticed his apparent discomfort and in short order convinced the owner of the machine to over ride the system and end the experience.

The next time (quite awhile later), Hugh made sure of all the proper sequences were being initiated in the proper order.

Yes, the subject of the CSS made him uneasy. Angry. He felt controlled by them. Them and these infernal NIBs. Dang them anyway. Maybe he was just irritable. He simply ought to have a pain killer tablet for his headache, and rest awhile. But then, he didn't really have a headache. Besides it wouldn't be a real tablet any way, just an electronic wave effect on his neurological infrastructure. That thought made him more irritable. It seemed that any more everything was fake, synthetic, VR'd and computerized. He felt penned in, held back.

Hugh hadn't noticed when he had entered the transport vehicle, but he now acknowledged the fact as he stared blankly into a field of passing corn. Yes, corn. Plain, ordinary corn. Odd, he mused, no matter the technological advancement, humans are still physical beings in need of nourishment. And, depending on where you went, you could get a real, old-fashioned meal. Or more commonly, one would simply get the basic feed pack; the package with over processed calories guaranteeing all the necessary nutrients for continued existence on earth.

Either way, food all came from the same place. It just depended on how far it had actually come before you made contact with it. Sometimes he wondered.

As Hugh fretted over the quality of life, the transport vehicle stopped at various places to let passengers off. Nobody ever spoke. They all conveniently communicated with their NIBs. So much easier that way of course . . .

Hugh had heard of fanatical groups who rarely if at all used NIBs. They carried on long conversations with their voices. This was something the CSS agents frowned upon. It wasn't against the law or anything, but he wouldn't be surprised to see something like that go into effect. Mandatory use of NIBs for quiet, efficient communication, contributing to the peace and welfare of the populous. It irked him that someone besides himself should be so interested in his ultimate welfare. Probably because he didn't believe that his securing his welfare was their true motive.

Eventually he came to the building where he worked. Standing up from the seat, he felt a bit sick, dizzy, and he had to steady himself. His NIB read low blood level in brain, and initiated temporary brain oxygen stimulation measures. Feeling better, he proceeded to work.

Wonderful inventions, these NIBs.