Tanker walked down the road, whistling the tune he had in his head, a new group called The Beats. He heard all the instruments, the vocal and the choir connected directly to his mind. He could see Milka’s house further down, and figured he’d pay him a visit. He changed the thread, got some news into his memory as he walked.
The threads were useful. One could hardly survive in society these days without them, everything was connected, centralised by the leadership. They controlled everything, even your thoughts. In exchange people had got entertainment and easy living. It took a while before anyone realised, and now it was too late. They were all slaves. There was no escape. The threads were everywhere, connected to every mind, every thought, every heartbeat.
He rang the doorbell.
-Come in, Milka said. -Fast!
Tanker almost fell in the door. Milka looked down the street, up the street, and closed the door quickly.
-Are you OK? Tanker looked at him with a worried frown. His friend had always been nervous by nature, but he’d never seen him like this. Milka walked over to the window, peaked out and closed the curtain.
-I’m perfect! He guided Tanker in to the living room. -Do you feel it?
-Feel what? Tanker looked around the room.
-I didn’t ask if you saw it. Can you feel it?
Tanker stopped for a moment. He did indeed feel something. Something was different, something had changed when he entered Milka’s door. The treads were different. They didn’t tell him what to think. He thought for himself. He looked at Milka with big, scared eyes. -What did you do?
-We’ve cut them off, Milka whispered. -The threads… These threads, the ones connected to me, the ones here in my house. They no longer lead to the leadership.
-But.. How? The leadership has it all control…
-Not anymore. Milka smiled a big smile. There is a way to break loose from the central control. I am my own boss now, Tanker. My will is mine, even more than it used to be before the threads were invented.
Tanker couldn’t believe his ears. Freedom was a word that hadn’t made sense for a long time.
-So you’re saying they can’t hear my thoughts? he whispered. He didn’t dare to say it out loud, didn't even dare to think it.
-No more than I can, my friend. You know that’s not too much. He blinked.
They hung out all afternoon, played some games, talked about anything, things no one had talked about in years. Tanker asked questions about the new system, the chains of free minds working together in harmony. Milka tried to answer as well as he could, guiding him through the jungle of new connections, even though he still had a lot to learn himself.
Tanker slowly understood how he could control it on his own. A chain of freedom, a new way to be. Connected but decentralised, separated but one. Freedom had finally arrived, and there was no way anyone could stop it. The web of threads was theirs, just as it should have been all along. The way it was meant to be from the very beginning.
