Brave New World
A Starcraft fanfic by Queen of Blades
Disclaimer: I don't own Starcraft. Or Brave New World.
Dedication: to Blake, who knows why, and to my old school, which I miss
dearly.
Gabriella walked down the second story hall, coming from her classroom. It was so LOUD here, but none of the others seemed to notice. Of course. They were all preppy cheerleaders and jocks, they didn't hear but half of the ruckus. Thoughts, heard as words, and emotions, felt like one feels a river one has stepped into unwittingly while blindfolded. This Gabriella was trying to avoid. But she had to go with the flow for a bit to find the stairs. A crowd, she mused, was like a river- a bunch of people or water drops going the same direction. And weren't people mostly water to begin with? The more compressed, the faster the current- that was basic physics. So the thinner the hallway and the more people jammed into it, the harder it was to go against the flow. She bit her lip and went along with it until they got to the stairs, and she went up instead of down. Food. she could eat later, in free period. 5th, she had free, and it was but lunch now. 5th was next, because it was Thursday. Up here, on the third floor, was the library- Gabrielle's sanctuary. Here, the thoughts were but the humdrum droning of books being memorized. She had a mental ear peeled for someone enjoying a good book, but had yet to find someone. This was high school, after all, and she was a freshman- not yet used to the total lack of brain cells here. She could tune out the boys playing games over the LAN in the next room, and the memorizing drone became but a dull roar to her mental ears. Ah, peace- the most she'd get until she got home. She pulled out a book and tried to make the best of it. Of course, she could turn herself in. Many did, to avoid going mad. Ghosts, they became- specially trained soldiers, suitable for infiltration of any institution, even a private home. Here, they were becoming almost a secret thought police- people could be accused of being anti-government in this age, in A.M 1042. After Mensk, not to be comfused with 6AM, a nice quiet time of day that Gabrielle liked. When she was the only one up- and dreams were SO much quieter than thoughts. She settled down into a chair to read her book. It was ancient, a classic- Brave New World, it was called. Aldous Huxley- some old dead fart. But his writing. it moved Gabrielle, in an age when nobody wanted to be moved, they wanted to see movies about stars making out and hear gossip about their fellow classmates. Something loud, nearby, broke Gabrielle's attention on her book. Oh well. It didn't matter much- she had read the book so many times it was going to tatters. She pretended to read while focusing on the rush of thought that came her way.
"But all the same," insisited the Savage, "it is natural to believe in
God when you're alone-quite alone, in the night, thinking about
death."
"But people are never alone now," said Mustapha Mond. "We make them
hate solitude; and we arrange their lives so that it's almost
impossible for them to ever have it."
What a load of rot! My god! No solitude! No quiet moments sitting
beneath a tree, cosy with a good book, the sun warming your arms, your
face, the back of your neck just so! No time to THINK, just to do, do,
do, rushing about like a madman! No time to look up at the stars and
wonder, and think about all the billions of people in the colonies, no
time for philosophy, psychology, wondering about the nature of things!
No God, no sense of purpose, no meaning of life! How dreary! I feel
almost sorry for poor Lenina, but she's like all the girls nowadays.
Nobody wants to be moved anymore. Cheerleaders. Still, Bernard.. and
Helmholtz! I feel bad for him- he could change the world, but he can't
conceive of it's being any different, and he has no passion to draw on
in his writing!
Gabrielle almost gasped aloud! This boy, a freshman it seemed, was reading the same book as she, and coming to much the same conclusions! Could there be one boy in this entire school that wasn't a jock or a math nerd? She stood and crossed the room, under the pretense of looking at the psychology section, to peer at the boy. He seemed normal enough- brown straight hair, t-shirt, jeans, book. Brave New World. Ah, but perhaps he had had a look at the 10th grade summer reading and wanted a jump start? No, it was only October. Gabrielle almost went over to him, then stopped. So he liked books. He would probably take one look at her and close his mind against her, and she'd hear every bad thought. It was one of the reasons she dressed this way- all in black, black lipstick, her dark hair back in a bandanna, all this illuminating her white skin in an almost eerie manner. No, she couldn't talk to him. She tried to think. He was in.. almost all her classes. Why hadn't she noticed him? Oh yeah. She had been TRYING not to notice people, to avoid being sucked into those traps. Well, she'd just keep an eye on him for a few days, that's what she'd do.
Gabriella walked down the second story hall, coming from her classroom. It was so LOUD here, but none of the others seemed to notice. Of course. They were all preppy cheerleaders and jocks, they didn't hear but half of the ruckus. Thoughts, heard as words, and emotions, felt like one feels a river one has stepped into unwittingly while blindfolded. This Gabriella was trying to avoid. But she had to go with the flow for a bit to find the stairs. A crowd, she mused, was like a river- a bunch of people or water drops going the same direction. And weren't people mostly water to begin with? The more compressed, the faster the current- that was basic physics. So the thinner the hallway and the more people jammed into it, the harder it was to go against the flow. She bit her lip and went along with it until they got to the stairs, and she went up instead of down. Food. she could eat later, in free period. 5th, she had free, and it was but lunch now. 5th was next, because it was Thursday. Up here, on the third floor, was the library- Gabrielle's sanctuary. Here, the thoughts were but the humdrum droning of books being memorized. She had a mental ear peeled for someone enjoying a good book, but had yet to find someone. This was high school, after all, and she was a freshman- not yet used to the total lack of brain cells here. She could tune out the boys playing games over the LAN in the next room, and the memorizing drone became but a dull roar to her mental ears. Ah, peace- the most she'd get until she got home. She pulled out a book and tried to make the best of it. Of course, she could turn herself in. Many did, to avoid going mad. Ghosts, they became- specially trained soldiers, suitable for infiltration of any institution, even a private home. Here, they were becoming almost a secret thought police- people could be accused of being anti-government in this age, in A.M 1042. After Mensk, not to be comfused with 6AM, a nice quiet time of day that Gabrielle liked. When she was the only one up- and dreams were SO much quieter than thoughts. She settled down into a chair to read her book. It was ancient, a classic- Brave New World, it was called. Aldous Huxley- some old dead fart. But his writing. it moved Gabrielle, in an age when nobody wanted to be moved, they wanted to see movies about stars making out and hear gossip about their fellow classmates. Something loud, nearby, broke Gabrielle's attention on her book. Oh well. It didn't matter much- she had read the book so many times it was going to tatters. She pretended to read while focusing on the rush of thought that came her way.
"But all the same," insisited the Savage, "it is natural to believe in
God when you're alone-quite alone, in the night, thinking about
death."
"But people are never alone now," said Mustapha Mond. "We make them
hate solitude; and we arrange their lives so that it's almost
impossible for them to ever have it."
What a load of rot! My god! No solitude! No quiet moments sitting
beneath a tree, cosy with a good book, the sun warming your arms, your
face, the back of your neck just so! No time to THINK, just to do, do,
do, rushing about like a madman! No time to look up at the stars and
wonder, and think about all the billions of people in the colonies, no
time for philosophy, psychology, wondering about the nature of things!
No God, no sense of purpose, no meaning of life! How dreary! I feel
almost sorry for poor Lenina, but she's like all the girls nowadays.
Nobody wants to be moved anymore. Cheerleaders. Still, Bernard.. and
Helmholtz! I feel bad for him- he could change the world, but he can't
conceive of it's being any different, and he has no passion to draw on
in his writing!
Gabrielle almost gasped aloud! This boy, a freshman it seemed, was reading the same book as she, and coming to much the same conclusions! Could there be one boy in this entire school that wasn't a jock or a math nerd? She stood and crossed the room, under the pretense of looking at the psychology section, to peer at the boy. He seemed normal enough- brown straight hair, t-shirt, jeans, book. Brave New World. Ah, but perhaps he had had a look at the 10th grade summer reading and wanted a jump start? No, it was only October. Gabrielle almost went over to him, then stopped. So he liked books. He would probably take one look at her and close his mind against her, and she'd hear every bad thought. It was one of the reasons she dressed this way- all in black, black lipstick, her dark hair back in a bandanna, all this illuminating her white skin in an almost eerie manner. No, she couldn't talk to him. She tried to think. He was in.. almost all her classes. Why hadn't she noticed him? Oh yeah. She had been TRYING not to notice people, to avoid being sucked into those traps. Well, she'd just keep an eye on him for a few days, that's what she'd do.
