Entry 1: You will learn to do this too
Dear Diary. Or I suppose, Entry 1:
I did not expect to see him today, or to be quite honest, ever. The leader of such a monumental corporation – what time does he have for anyone? Perched on stage, graced on his left and right by his most loyal men and women, he spoke to us of the future, a bright one. He spoke of global reach and providing for all those in need, bringing order and unity via the forefront of technology. He shared with us a vision made of hard-light – of cities in a blink risen where there once stood slums – and then he showed us.
Two architechs stepped forward from the back of the stage and plucked at the air. Their hands were gloved in metal, covered in glowing blue lines like electric veins; and as their fingers moved, thin beams of light appeared, picked from the bright blue wells in the center of their palms and strung taut around their fingertips. The architechs then nodded to each other and began passing the threads of light across the stage, pulling as if to stretch the rays into a giant, brilliant cat's cradle.
The hum and glow reached into the furthest corners of the auditorium. My eyelids fluttered from the incredible radiance. Suddenly, they cast the light toward us.
The threads of hard-light scattered into an infinity of shapes, running along the ground in parallel lines, sprouting up at perfect angles and linking together with a thousand other threads to form here a sink, there a lamp, and beside me, a bed. Walls climbed up on each side of where I stood and for a moment, I saw myself in a mirror. Then, there was a new roof above my head.
We applauded for so long – after the sudden home had unraveled back into the glowing hands of the architechs, even when President Vishkar smiled and held his hands up for quiet. His voice was so gentle when he told us as matter of fact, "You will learn to do this too."
The rest of the morning, I found it difficult to retain much else. As an instructor toured us around the Academy campus, I managed to memorize general geography and smaller details like 149 other new students. However, the lines and design from the demonstrated home stayed blueprinted in my mind – like having stared into the sun and seeing it still when you close your eyes. It was a thousand times more than what they had shown in Hyderabad. This was the vision, the man I would choose to follow.
At lunch, all the students crowded into the dining hall, and after walking around the perimeter of the cafeteria, searching, I found a spot away from the main tables, by a window overlooking the garden. A dewy green spilled outside into unfinished campus, spectrums of flowers wrapping around where buildings would soon stand. As I ate quietly, I observed a custodian pruning the nearest hedges. A few feet away, a small group was gathered and taking notes on the land. The two architechs from the morning pointed at the empty space and dictated their designs. When they finished, the group started to leave, but one of the architechs taking notes remained behind to speak with the custodian.
The custodian gestured to a wooden post that seemed to have split in half and the architech nodded. The group called for her to join back up, but she held a hand out for them to wait and pulled on a metal glove. She ran her fingers around the break, and beams of hard-light sprang from her fingertips, attaching themselves to the splinters. As the beams grew dense and filled the entire cross-section of the wooden post, she whisked her hand away and the glowing threads shot up above their heads, the top unfurling carefully into a birdhouse.
By the end of the hour, it was filled with chirping.
I will learn to do this too.
