The Cube and The Boat

Everything happens in the Cube.

It's your home, it's your place of solace, your place of 57 years of work.

It's where you eat, where you sleep, where you live, where you die.

And Fannel can't stand it any longer.

The Cube above him is where his mother lives, where he was born and raised. The Cube below him is where Channa lives, a woman who not only is his younger sister but is also his manager. And the Cube three down from him is where Asha lives, the woman who has been matched to him with a 98% succession rate.

She likes the same things as him: The Discovery Channel on the Big Screen, Jenga, and Coca-Cola. The 2% comes from the fact Asha is also attracted to women, but she's been matched with Fannel, a man, so that should be no issue once they're Tied.

She is also the best match for him biologically. They're the same race. They're both young and healthy. From DNA tests, it is estimated their children will have a 100% success rate at survival, and will have no ailments.

She's the one.

And yet, he does not know her. Has not seen her in the flesh. He does not even know her favourite colour, or how she likes her oatmeal in the morning.

Their call is scheduled for five minutes past five, shortly after they both finish work.

Fannel stays at his desk, a short glass table with a wooden chair situated at the end of the bed, facing the northern wall of his Cube. A Small Screen is built into the wall.

He keeps his work uniform on - a burgundy shirt with matching trousers. His feet are bare.

The call connects as soon as the clock ticks over to five minutes past five. Asha's face appears dead-centre in the Small Screen.

"Hello, Fannel."

She is polite, as always. With her black hair pulled into a bun at the back of her head, her dark green dress displaying her name tag at the breast, and the background of her Cube blurred. As always.

"Good evening, Asha."

For the next thirty minutes that their call is scheduled Fannel runs on autopilot.

How was her day at work? Surely it must be hard being a relationship therapist. His was good - productive even. His students passed their test on fractions and percentages. What was she planning on having for dinner? Fannel was thinking of having the risotto tonight, one of the seven meals in his refrigerator. What were her plans for the rest of the evening? That sounds lovely. He was planning on making a request for fresh toiletries and reading a book for the rest of the night.

"It was good speaking to you." Asha says. As always.

"Thank you for taking the time." Fannel says, although he knows it's perfunctory. These calls are mandatory, and there will be an investigation if they do not attend.

The Small Screen goes blank and Fannel sighs with relief.

He pulls his shirt over his head, flings it onto the bed, and inches his way out of the wooden chair to shimmy out of his trousers.

Once stripped down to his undergarments he dims the Cube's overhead light and feels for the book underneath his bed pillow. It's old and yellowed, and has a false cover for his protection.

He is certain he is always being watched, for security purposes, of course. So he has to be careful.

The real book that lies underneath "War and Peace" is "The Cube: Foundational Text".

It was hard to come by, even harder to make friends with the right people who know about these sorts of things.

And the potential of getting caught is worth it. Because Fannel wants to know why. Why the Cube?

The book tells all.

Put into motion by an American president in 2073, the Cube was a way forward in human innovation.

It's purpose? To reduce human violence, to control an ever-growing population, to reduce sickness, and to increase Mother Nature's chance at surviving for longer.

The premise? Containment units 300 by 300 feet, broken into individual Cubes of 15 by 15 feet. Each cube containing a bed, a desk, a kitchen, a bathroom, and storage space. Three of the four walls would be impenetrable, soundproof, and without the risk of mould. The fourth wall would be made of reinforced glass, impossible to see out of and impossible to see into aside from one strip in the middle along the width that allowed for daylight.

Light was no issue, though. The Cube would contain lighting that spanned the entire ceiling that reflected the weather outside, with one built-in lamp that could be dimmed or brightened when needed. Ventilation was also not an issue, modern technology had come far enough that going outside for fresh air would no longer be a requirement. Inside the Cube the air would always be as you need it.

And for supplies? Situated outside of the Cube Unit would be a warehouse manned by artificial intelligence. There they would grow crops, process foods, manufacture toiletries and clothing. They would sift through the old world's endless belongings and repurpose them.

In the CU Warehouse situated nearest to Fannel are 10 men of flesh and blood who failed their Careers Test and had no other option. That is how Fannel happened upon this book. That is how Fannel plans on leaving his Cube.

His Small Screen lights up, a faint sound emitting from the speakers, and it jumps Fannel out of his thoughts with a fright.

He shoves the book under his pillow once more, brightens the light, and squishes himself back into the wooden chair at his desk.

Fannel answers the call. "Hey, Ma."

"Put some clothes on."

His mother's voice is assertive as ever. Fannel smiles, and grabs a plain top from the back of his wooden chair. He slides it over his head and notices his mother nod.

"Better. Your sister tells me your students did well today. You should be proud."

Fannel's mother, Pranda, is aging gracefully. Her hair collects tufts of greys here and there, and the creases on her skin when she smiles shows her age, but she doesn't look a day over fifty.

She's sixty-five, ten years away from retirement.

"Channa tells you everything doesn't she? I don't get to speak of any achievements myself." Fannel laughs.

The background of his mother's call isn't blurred, and he can see something cooking in the kitchen along the eastern wall.

"She's a proud sister and headmaster." Pranda smiles, "She's happy for you. As am I."

"Thanks, Ma." He's happy other people are happy for him, even if he can't be that himself. "How's the knee today?"

Pranda rolls her eyes, "You're always fussing boy, I'm fine." She glances back to the kitchen, seeing the steam rising from her pot. She gets up from the desk to stir it, and Fannel notices her limp.

"I can see that, you know? You should call Doctor Larna."

Without looking at the screen, Pranda waves a hand at Fannel, dismissing him. When she's satisfied with stirring, she turns up the heat a fraction and returns to the desk.

"She's busy. Always! What am I supposed to do? Rest?" Pranda barks a laugh. "I ain't going nowhere already."

Fannel's mother is the reason for the way he is. For the reason he's dying to leave the Cube.

His mother has always done what's asked of her, has always lived in her Cube, raised two children alone when their father died, and has done her job like a good citizen. But, that doesn't mean she hasn't complained through all of it.

He has spent years hearing her whispers, hearing her subtle jabs at the Cube, and society as a whole. He's taken it all in, and they've become the foundation of who he is, what he believes in.

"We could change that, Ma. See the world." Fannel doesn't care if he's being monitored, he says it anyway.

"Would you shut your mouth?" His mother whispers with intent, her eyes wide and lips tight. "You're talking that nonsense again."

Despite Pranda's life-long complaining, she knows the system is the way it is for the betterment of the people. For the betterment of the world. She's heard whispers of people who disagree. She doesn't want that for her son.

"I wish I could see the ocean." Fannel knows he should stop talking, mainly to appease his mother and partly because he doesn't know who could be listening, but he can't.

"The Discovery Channel says there are 10% more fish in the oceans now than there was five years ago. They've recorded the highest amount of turtles returning to beaches each year since 1950, isn't that crazy? The level of plastic is finally being reduced, too. Humans could leave the Cube. We could see it Ma, we could."

Pranda's pot boils over as soon as Fannel stops speaking. She tears frightful eyes away from her child to the eastern wall and back again.

"Forget it, my boy. Don't give up security for possibility. We can't rock the boat."

Fannel's mother hangs up and his Small Screen goes blank again before he can say any more.

This is it, the Cube.

It's where he'll become Tied, where he'll be dampened and silenced. Where it'll all happen.

It's his home, it's his place of solace, his place of 57 years of work.

It's where he eats, where he sleeps, where he lives, where he dies.

And Fannel can't stand it any longer.

He stares back at his reflection in the dark Screen and thinks about a boat.

—

Hi I’m Leigh, I want to start expressing myself more so tune in for some fiction, some thoughts, and some fun.

Until next time x