The four Founders attended a funeral. They dressed in white and allowed the synths to become assistants to the service. Funeral directors programmed a replica of the deceased designed by Dr. Frampton. In a Goulding limousine, they all looked at each other, together for the first time in months. 

“Well, I’m going to break the proverbial ice,” Dr. Strong declared. “The man lived to be one hundred and seventy-two. I haven’t shed a tear for him.”

“I know what you mean,” Bellinda replied. “It’s like we’ve been so advanced in our medicine due to free markets we should be bowing at the feet of bankers.” She rode with her husband Wodehouse.

Go looked completely sober. Chanda rode by his side. “I think that we have to look at how well the country-state is doing on the front of mortuary services, too,” Go acknowledged.

“Yes,” Dr. Frampton, who sat by her husband Roger, agreed. “There have been billionaires because of these new synth presentations. They record all of the brain activity in the person while they’re alive and then transmit that into a synth. There’s music, audio, video, everything that the person experienced in life brought out in one synth. It’s extraordinary.”

Dr. Strong travelled with Monica II. She had been familiar with the whole program as it happened. When she had become part of the team to replace Monica, she had studied the various models to become a synth specified for bereavement training. Dr. Strong engaged his watch in his heads up display in his eye.

“We should be there in a few. Let’s talk about the fact we don’t have to worry about the messines of death. Even the worst incidents are never as bad as they were. Accidents, falls, the murder and suicide rates are scant. The amount of people who die well past one hundred and fifty has lifted the standard of life and quality of life and longevity as well,” Dr. Strong observed.

“Yes, that's what I’ve been saying. The more wealthy we get, it is a result of our minds. With the brain horsepower commanding us to create safer ways of performing tasks and just enjoying life allows us to keep going,” Go remarked.

“Absolutely,” Dr. Frampton championed the doctor and Go. “I know for a fact that B and my machines and synths, respectively, have contributed to the highest rate of life expectancy at birth.”

A hush swept through the interior on that note. Then Go spoke again. “I think we have to look at the various patterns that have created in us a long chain of products of the mind. Everything we do is a product of the mind. Every action, all of it. So, we mourn our friend, but we don’t weep over him too long. He made billions. He had a wife and children and was a great-grandfather four times over in his life. This is all due to the capitalist system put in place by the Founders of the United States, a fictional text that presented a profound warehouse of truths, and our own founding. All of it coalesces into one magnificent picture….” Go said.

“The original Founders of the US, some of them, had been slave owners. Some of them let their slaves go, others didn’t. They presented something with an excellent mind and wobbly feet.”

“It was still capitalistic,” Bellinda chimed.

“No, again. The initial part of the country was built on some elements of capitalism and too many regulations and controls. It was a big mix.”

“So, you’re saying that America was never capitalist until we came along?” Dr. Frampton asked. 

“That’s right,” Dr. Strong responded.

“And this text,” Go wondered, “We used it as a model, right?”

“I especially did. It might be fiction, but it breathes trueness. It is imbued with the powers of thought and action. It is the Declaration 2.0. Ours is 3.0 since no one bothered to actually put its principles into practice until us,” Dr. Strong explained.

“I disagree, though, Covey,” Bellinda challenged. ‘Capitalism  has always been in the country that preceded Smartystan.”

“That’s why I was chief architect of the Declaration 3. I had studied the various books and different texts that corresponded to freedom going back centuries. You all contributed beautiful passages within the framework of the draft. I’ll never take that away from you. I, however, had to incorporate the various pieces to fit into the puzzle,” Dr. Strong pointed out.

“We live in a capitalist society now, though, right?”

“We’re going to a funeral of a man who lived to be one hundred and seventy-two. Of course we do. I mean, that’s not the direct reason. He had supplements and ate right and exercised and the whole nine. But he lived in an environment which fosters freedoms that are explicit and ingrained in all of our lives,” Dr. Strong stated.

“I still don’t see it, Covey!” Bellinda shouted lowly. “I just…I mean we wouldn’t have been able to build our own State if it weren’t for the original Founding Fathers. Sure, some of them owned slaves, but they didn’t see other people, especially blacks as full human beings. They disregarded women to a significant degree. These are facts. I think, however, that the best way to keep the flame burning for liberty is to always remember how great America was.”

“Yes,” said Go. “America was where I made my first million. My first billion. I can’t see myself going against the very country that nurtured me into becoming the businessman I am now.”

“That’s a great observation. As a man of color darker than your skin, I am empowered to be a man of letters. I chose this path despite all the naysayers and those who couldn’t compete with me. I had no crutches to support me, just an active brain and a few sheets of paper and a pen. I couldn’t have done it anywhere else or would have had to enlist the help of others to redeem my ticket into the folds of awesomeness.”

“I know that we’re going to be in this funeral procession,” Chanda declared.

“I see it,” Dr. Strong noticed as well. “But back to the idea of The United States of America being a completely free market. This couldn’t be further from the truth. The government had been overbearing and a toxic wasteland. We represented the beacon of light that shined a glow on the infectious vermin of instability and doubt and cleaned up the place with our stern and powerful rhetoric.”

“I see where you’re going,” Dr. Frampton claimed. “I’m still a little shaky, but I see your point, Cov’,” Dr. Frampton said.

“I see it, too,” Chanda admitted. “I came to this country with rupees to my name. I couldn’t find jobs, so I made my own. I hired. I gave opportunities to people who arrived in this country like I did, virtually destitute. It was cool, though. I started the skate shop and continued on from there. With an investment from a certain someone, my business grew and grew. At the same time, there had to be zoning laws, and regulations on how many decks I could sell in a month, and how many commercials I could shoot. It almost depressed me. I kept going though. And now I’m here….” Chanda outlined.

“That’s similar to my story,” Bellinda added. “Fresh out of high school without any training in robotics or machines of any kind. Then I started to use the Internet. I soaked up as much as I could. Everything I could get my hands on, I employed totally. So was America capitalist? In certain ways, yes. Others, no. There remained restrictions on the amount of machines I could produce in a given city. I moved from Wilmington to Newark. Then I moved to Dover. Finally, I moved back to Wilmington when they lifted the sanctions.”

“Delaware was one of the freest states for business to begin with,” Dr. Frampton replied. “Despite all of the regulations, controls, and sanctions, this tiny state became a powerhouse. Called the Diamond State, it became like a hub for the surrounding cities of Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington, D.C., and New York. Small in stature, it still held the record for most businesses incorporated there. Businesses like Posner’s. He lived the life of a businessman to support his family and  himself. We’ll miss him, but we don’t have to mourn him. I despise the term, ‘Homegoing Celebration.’ Going home where? To some fantasy land beyond nature and existence? I actually like ‘Celebration of Life.’ That’s what it is. You’re rejoicing at the fact someone arose out of a womb and gradually became a human being who relished every moment as best he could.”

The vehicle came to a halt. The Founders and their significant others exited the vehicle with assistance of synths. Once they crossed the threshold, the smell of lilacs and peppermint wafted through the room. They all looked around the room. No casket. Minimal flowers. No pictures or any sign that this would be a normal funeral service. They found their seats at the front row of the mortuary. They looked at the synth who danced to crisp and clear music emitted from its frame. The synth projected scenes from Posner Creft’s life. Each movement corresponded with the exact note of the sounds. The place had been standing room only and the synth touched the soul of every occupant. With keen gestures and concise movements, the creation made the experience almost a delight. The soaring strings and rumble of the timpani it expressed along with its dance allowed every spectator to view the power of the synth’s heady performance. It struck through his birth to his schooling to his business pursuits to his family. Every strike of the note pierced through the minds of each of the viewers and listeners. The four Founders all looked on with a sense of pride and dignity. 

This created within them a sense of the fact they would all go one day. But that didn’t breed dread within their spirits. They, instead, wanted to work more, to do more. They wanted to create, build, make new things for the good of their own selfish pursuits. Their ambitions carried them to lofty positions that could not be downplayed or denigrated. All of their minds grew wings and took flight at the mere observation of this honoring of this most extraordinary man. Multiple people in the crowd held positions as executives and creators and men and women of the mind. They listened to the synth read the obituary, deliver resolutions, and perform the eulogy, all while dancing. The synth’s powerful moves and wondrous control engendered in them the thought that they had become even better human beings. The irony was not lost on any of them. They knew this synth had been fashioned by UltraSynth and that Dr. Frampton had already programmed it to do just what it did. A smile curled around Dr. Frampton’s mouth. Amongst the straight faces and solemn grins, she enjoyed the fact that the product of her mind had been there to showcase the life of her friend. Bellinda looked at her friend. She wiped away a tear and smiled broadly. 

The service ended with a flourish of sound and then silence. The funeral director, Renault Frig, then took over the service.

“We thank you all for coming to this momentous occasion. Friends and family are welcome to visit with the synth to glean even more information about Posner’s life. We thank you all for attending and do wish safety in your travels.”

The Founders soon returned to the limousine. “Well, these funerals are far different than the ones we grew up knowing,” Chanda announced.

“That’s true,” Dr. Covey Strong observed. “With synths and all of the technology now, we can do just about anything we can think of now,” he stated. The others gleamed.

Chintan Jani

Smartystan

Heady Performance 

The four Founders attended a funeral. They dressed in white and allowed the synths to become assistants to the service. Funeral directors programmed a replica of the deceased designed by Dr. Frampton. In a Goulding limousine, they all looked at each other, together for the first time in months. 



Smartystan

Heady Performance

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Businesswoman Chapter 86

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Heady Performance

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Businesswoman Chapter 86

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