4001

Amir, 6^th Grade

One

Dr. Naïve was a Doctor of Sciences of the Classification of Not-Knowing.  In those days, Classification was a way to identify certain traits in people.  Each classification boasted of a trait that the members of the Classification carried.  For example, there was the Classification of the Brave, of the Pig-Headed, of the Leaders, of the Vexing, of the Travelers and many more.  However, the Classification of Not-Knowing was considered the lowest classification of which to be a part. Ironically, Dr. Naïve was the most powerful of all the Doctors of the Classifications.

At this moment Dr. Naïve was sitting in office, peering over some papers about the development of a stream on his property on Coppersville Court. Naïve’s office was colorless and tedious. The only decoration in the room was a brightly colored can, which he used for spitting his tobacco and emptying the ash from his pipe.

Naïve himself was not a very colorful man either. He had brown hair and green eyes. Naïve’s mouth was always in a disgusted frown and today he wore a white medical coat made of silk. His name was etched into the coat with the finest thread. Dr. Naïve’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in,” ordered Dr. Naïve.

The doorknob turned to reveal Ugdria, Dr. Naïve’s personal secretary. She was a robot made entirely out of aluminum.

“Sir,” she garbled, “I wish to inform you that Withe Tyraum is sitting in the main hall.”

“What?” spat Dr. Naïve. Some of the excess tobacco from his pipe hit Ugdria. She scooted back a bit.

Dr. Naïve, embarrassed, retreated back to his chair and returned to look at his work. After a few minutes of complete silence he said, “Tell Mr. Tyraum that I cannot see him today.”

“But why?” questioned Ugdria.

“Because I cannot.  Make up an excuse if you like,” said Naïve.

“Yes sir,” replied Ugdria.

“Oh, and Ugdria,” commented Naïve. “Be sure to close the door behind you.”

 Ugdria exited. The door slammed shut.

If you didn’t like the color white and you did not like the shape of a hexagon, you did not want to be standing in the main hall leading up to Dr. Naïve’s spacious office where Withe Tyraum was standing. All the furniture stationed in it was made of white fabric and was hexagonally shaped.  The walls, the floor and the ceiling had hexagonal shapes with their exteriors painted white.

Withe Tyraum was a tall man, approximately six feet seven inches in height with a weight of eighty-three pounds, which was average for that time period.  He had a flat nose, except on the bridge, which made you focus your eyes on his yellow eyes and thin mouth.  At this moment he was dressed entirely in black. His ebony hair was freshly cut, and, he looked his finest. As soon as Withe sat down on the white, hexagonal sofa, Ugdria came in.  Ugdria waddled up to Withe and told him exactly what Dr. Naïve had told her.

“We are so deeply sorry to announce that Dr. Naïve cannot meet with you today,” the robot said.

Mr. Tyraum pondered this statement, and then asked, “Why not?”

Ugdria replied, “Because he cannot.”

Withe whipped out his pocket knife, put it to Ugdria’s throat and said casually, “I demand answers.”

 Ugdria paused for a second, and seeing that Withe was going to move the knife at any moment now, called, “Bring out the Defensives.”

The Defensives, in those days, were another type of robot made out of bullet-proof glass.  Their fingers were made with knives and they were unbeatable fighters. The Defensives came into the room in two straight lines.  They immediately started their work.

In seconds the room was filled with sounds such as the juggling of knives, and loud bang of weaponry. Because of these noises, Withe Tyraum was easily distracted.  He did not notice that a defensive robot had aimed one of his knife-like fingers at Withe until the moment it hit him.  Moments later he was in the air, had hit the back wall, had produced a long shriek of pain, and was reduced to no more than pieces on the white, hexagonal hallway floor leading to Dr. Naïve’s office.  

Humans in those days had more power and education than they do now, and, using his education, his hands were able to put the rest of his body together like a complicated puzzle. 

The Defensives were surprised that Mr. Tyraum was able to do this and instantly the Defensives started firing the Eye-Guns and juggling their knives (which were their fingers).  But Withe Tyraum was too quick and nimble for the Defensives.   The only thing that did not bear the color white and was not in the shape of a hexagon was a door.  Doors in those days were on the floor like a trapdoor.  You would have to produce a shrill whistle four times to allow this type of door to open.  If by some chance you could not whistle you were “expelled” (which, in those days, it meant that you were killed).  The door in this particular room was triangular shaped, painted a menacing black.

  Before you could say “Jack Rabbit,” Withe had whistled four times quite shrilly and had gone down the black triangular trapdoor.  The door closed behind him.

Two

Coppersville Court was a grassy stretch of road between Bootleggers Road and Myronica Lane.  It was the longest street in the town.  It looped around 3,685 miles after it began and had 100,000 located on it.  Withe Tyraum lived at 88, 543 Coppersville Court.  Dr. Naïve, as a matter of fact, lived only a few houses away.  He lived at 93,170 Coppersville Court.

  Withe Tyraum was the only resident of house number 88,543.  Withe Tyraum’s house was much like the popular style of architecture in those days.  All of the windows in those days had an arch-like shape and, as I have mentioned before, the doors were located on the floor.  They did not like carpets, the people of those times, and so all the floors were made of marble.  Mind you, the marble cleaned and polished itself.  The ceilings were cone-like and were very high.  The garden had plants that tended themselves.  Other than that, the homes were very small yet had a cozy atmosphere around them.

On the night of the day when Mr. Tyraum had gone to see Dr. Naïve, he was in the small nook with had a lamp that could turn on and off by itself.  However, the light did this when it wanted to.  There had been many times when the light had not wanted to turn on.  There had been many times when the light had not wanted to turn on.   Withe was sitting in a comfortable arm char, which had the ability to lay itself back like a bed.  Unlike the light, it did this on command.  As I was saying, Withe was sitting in a comfortable armchair, which was leaned all the way back, history books in his lap.  Books were a rarity in those days, for most people used their Treelimb Devices, which were transparent balls that could tell you information.  Anyway, this was an old history book that his great-grandfather had handed down to him.   It had all history in it, and its topics stretched from 2500 B.C.E. to this year, 4001.  He turned to the page that had a heading that read Year 3214 A.D. and read.  3214 is marked by historians as the primitive beginnings of the common future era.  According to legend a man named Picoxr Yuorwas had the idea to form Treelimb Devices, trashing the old centuries old use of the Internet and books.  He also discovered that cloning, as scientists in the early ages had thought, was not possible.  This was because DNA did not exist; cells WERA were made of a substance called Rental Heptagonal Aggressiveness (called RHA for short.)  His Successor Iosfe Jsatv (eye-oh-shaw-wee June –Guess-av) participated in the Battle of University of Louisiana.  It was there that Americans were defeated, in the year 3309. 

Then Withe noticed something.  His great-grandfather had circled the letter f in the word form.   More letters were circled including the o in Louisiana the u in university and the r in Americans.  The code kept going, until when the book lectured on the year 3602, it stopped.  He had been writing this code down on the back cover of the book, and when he examined the letters in the light he found it had spelled:  IN 4001, NAÏVE WILL BE DEFEATED BY W.T.

Withe paused for a moment and thought about what he had written.  Memories swirled around on his mind like a forgotten mist.  Then a thought struck him that almost made him jump.  When he was a toddler, before he went to bed his mother used to tell him stories.  This was what they did in the old days, his mother had said to him.  The stories were about a variety of different subjects, of pirates and treasures, frogs and other things.  When she had run out of fairy tales to tell Withe, she told him tales about the family.  One of these tales was about Withe’s great-grandmother, and great-grandfather.  Strangely, the older Withe remembered his mother’s words exactly.   She had said this:

“Once upon a time, in a small town on the Mexican border, lived a man named Frese Tyraum. He was your great-grandfather. Now your great grandfather an odd sort of trade.”

“What was his trade?”   The young Withe inquired.

“He was a fortune teller.  Fortune tellers did not make a lot of money, however, they did amuse people,” Withe’s mother continued. “That was exactly what your great-grandfather wanted to do.  However, many believed his prophecies and such were the truth.  Many things he said happened really did happen.  For example, he said one man’s whole swine herd was going to die out from an unexplained illness in twelve days.  And, when the twelfth day came the whole swine herd had died out.  He finally decided to write down his prophecies in code, as he could keep track of clients and other matters.” 

“Can you teach me the code?” asked the young Withe.

“I’m afraid I cannot say,” Withe’s mother said.  “To be quite honest with you, I don’t know it myself.”

At this point, Withe had to stop remembering.  The lamp had turned off.  It had gone into sleep mode.  Though With e begged and pleaded the lamp to turn on, it would not.  Finally after many attempts Withe decided that he was getting tired.   Since the lamp had already gone to sleep, Withe decided it was time to go to sleep.   He curled up even more comfortably in the armchair and told it tot lean back. His eyelids finally closed, hiding his hazy yellow eyes from sight.

Three

Dr.  Naïve lit his pipe, and watched the stars in the vast sky.  It had been a saga just to live through the day that had just ended with the stars coming out and the three suns setting.  There was paperwork to complete, communications to receive from the Treelimb Device and negotiations to make with other Heads of Classifications.  Worst of all, that diplomatic ruiner, Withe Tyraum had come and asked to see him. But Why?

Perhaps it was because of that business trouble in the Antarctica submarines, which were to go in a museum named after Dr. Naïve.  After all, he was the second person who had put most of his riches into it, surpassed only by Dr. Naïve.  Or possibly, it was the Classifications food rations matter, for he had been a member of the committee trying to decide upon the matter.  But something in the back of Dr. Naïve’s mind denied it was any of those matters.  Something told him that it was the prophecy.

A long time ago, before this fateful day, Tyraum’s great grandfather had made a vision and wrote it down in that code of his.  The prophecy was concerning Naïve’s grandfather.  The vision said that his grandson would be defeated by W.T.   A few years later, Naïve’s father had killed the man.  He destroyed all his hidden codes except one in an old history book, which was claimed by the Tyraum family.  The vision embedded in the history book, he knew was the vision Withe’s great- grandfather had made to his grandfather.  He suspected that Withe Tyraum knew it had been told, and was plotting his downfall.  A sudden sound had brought Naïve out of his thoughts.  It was the Treelimb Device.  A new message had been received. 

4,627 houses away, Withe Tyraum had summoned his Treelimb Device.  He wished to send a message to Dr. Naïve.  Withe’s message was to have dinner at his house, to discuss business matters.  Dr. Naïve did not know how to reply to the offer.  He could unleash his plan to kill Dr. Naïve and filch all his power.  Yet, there was an advantage.  He could kill Withe Tyraum and make the vision not come true, and be able to obtain even more power.  However, Dr. Naïve felt he could perform this task easier at his house.  So, Dr. Naïve typed into the Treelimb Device. 

“Could we have dinner at my house instead?  I would like to show yo some of my attractive furniture.”

 “Of course,” came Withe’s reply. 

“What time then?” Dr. Naïve typed. “Would 12:75 do fine?”

Before putting the Treelimb Device back on the shelf, Withe replied “Certainly.  Most Certainly.”

End of Installment One