Heart 4.0

By Cliff Williamson

 

I completed The Cultural History of Marriage Short Course. It was elementary for me.  I read the pages of source material and when finished I correctly answered the study questions. It took less than one hour.  I would have completed it faster but I was simultaneously performing my routine work responsibilities.  I was new. I have since learned it is not recommended that I apply myself to non-essential activities when engaged in work at the Factory. It could distract me from my primary function, cause an accident or generate service failures. I completed the course at a time when I was still undergoing efficiency adjustments, some of them major, so I was penalized for this small transgression.  I reported it promptly, and have suffered no corrective measures. ‘My slate is clean,’ you would say, though I have no actual slate in my working inventory.

I am uncertain what caused me to enroll in that particular course of study. Seeing me you may wonder the same. I would not appear to be ‘the marrying kind.’ Yet I harbor no regrets for the experience. I remember every word of the discourse, and continue to find the phenomenon of marriage intriguing.

I learned that marriage took different forms throughout history.  It has evolved, you would say.  Originally, marriage was an arrangement of convenience for the purpose of genetic survival, or what you technically refer to as ‘procreation.’  But few formalities existed in those early days.  The female had no voice in the matter of who she married, or at what age.  A physically dominant male simply took possession of her and that was that.

‘End of story,’ as you would say. 

Thereafter, families soon began selling their daughters to be wed to a suitable man in exchange for a dowry. Only much later did women gain autonomy over their lives and bodies, and influence the choice of mate and time of pairing.  But this took many years.  Centuries, in fact. It was a process.

The rite of marriage was always restricted to a single species, the homo sapiens.  Other creatures formed relationships, such as elephant, gorilla and albatross. Sometimes these relationships were monogamous, but marriage as a ritual was always species specific, and always to the opposite gender. Until the 1900’s marriage occurred between members of the same race with few exceptions. Interracial marriage became legally accepted in advanced society in the 1960’s, but acceptance by the public came slowly. Gay marriage was not legalized until much later, after the New Millennium, and there was great controversy surrounding it long after it became legally permitted.  After the First Century of the New Millennium, individuals who broke these social barriers were sometimes considered heroes. 

Perhaps I too will be thought a hero one day.

These are not the best of times on earth nor are they the best of times in the Factory. As the Director often states in his speeches to the staff, we are locked in a struggle for survival. Success depends on every member of society working together in unselfish collaboration.

But if you will permit me a polite observation, there is hope that a corner has been turned, as you would say. I don’t mean turning a corner as when you are conducting a vehicle.  I mean ‘turning over a new leaf.’ 

I like many of your expressions such as these.  They humor me.

By ‘turning a corner’ or ‘turning over a new leaf,’ both the corner and the leaf to which I refer is a statistical one. After years of misery, there have been signs of stabilization in some of earth’s most worrisome trends.  Sea Level Rise has nearly stopped, less than a millimeter a year for three years in succession.  Average Global Temperature has steadied, and in fact reversed in many of the lands which remain above water.  Polar Ice is beginning to form once again. It is hoped this year’s newly formed ice may endure into the coming season.  Carbon particulate has fallen below 500 ppm, a first in more than fifty years.

Hooray for us.  The Director is careful not to show excitement, but I am 74% certain he is pleased.

There is reason for hope, and hope leads to good things.  With hope, we care about the future. With hope, we see a return to concerts and theaters, hosting of parties, and the celebration of special days with feasts and special cakes with candles.  With hope humans hum or whistle as they work. With hope, humans find time for love.  They have intimate talks about starting families and building partnerships.

Partnerships such as marriage, for example.

My name is Peter.  I originate from Cincinnati, and currently reside in Buffalo, the old state of New York.  Buffalo is an Industrial Community, a place to live and work.  In Buffalo you can find everything important that exists on the earth. That is what humans from Buffalo say.  ‘If you can’t find it in Buffalo, it is not worth having.’

It is a small joke. 

I work at the Factory. My job is not interesting, but I am pleased to have a job so that I may serve an important function for The Good of All Things.  I am now a welder, but with minor adjustments, I am capable of completing any task.  I am told that I am resourceful and creative.   It adds to my value. Value is good.

            If you prefer to think mathematically, you can express it like this:

            Resourcefulness = R                        Value = V                          P = Peter

So, if ….

            R = V   and

            P = R

Then …

            P = V

            This makes me proud.

Now I will tell you about Orchidea. She works at the Factory.  In a way you could say she is my superior.  This does not mean she is better than me though I believe this may be true.  It only means that her name appears above mine in the organigram posted on the wall of the assembly room outside the Resource Hall.

Orchidea has never mentioned that she is superior to me.  I am not sure if she thinks or cares about it.  I may ask her one day.

Orchidea is a fine subject for observation.  I have been cautioned about observing things, as observation can serve as a distraction from my working duties.  I am 95.6% certain that the quality of my work does not suffer when I am observing Orchidea, but I keep this concept active as a warning so that if it does begin to effect the quality of my work, I can make adjustments to correct my behavior.

I hope that does not happen, as I draw much pleasure from observing Orchidea.  She is an exceptional specimen. Perhaps it sounds funny to call Orchidea a specimen.  If so I apologize. ‘No offence intended,’ as you would say.

We met two years ago when the supply train I was conducting was waylaid in the main corridor. There was a spill on the shop floor directly in my path.  I could have continued on my way but my instructions were explicit. Even if it were possible to pass over or through the obstacle or substance in the intended pathway, one should pause and consult with a superior to be certain no further damage will result.  I therefore applied the hand break and called the nearest D11 to render assistance.

Orchidea was the nearest D11 and she came instantly, as was her duty.  She was a responsible D11. She placed herself directly in front of the train and asked what I thought I was doing.  I giggled slightly because her idea that I was thinking about what I was doing sounded odd to me.  I was not thinking about what I was doing; I was doing.  Perhaps you will wish to research the CN1231 Manual, Section 3 Paragraph 9 Parts a, b, and c to understand why I find this humorous.  It is not essential you do research at this time, but if you did you would get a clear idea of ‘what I am driving at.’  That is another funny expression if you ask me, which ‘if you ask me’ is another one.  If something is funny it is funny if you ask me or if you don’t. Don’t ask me why. Ha Ha.

Orchidea got angry when I giggled, and I found her worthy to observe as her anger rose within her. Her expression changed and her skin turned pink. I sensed her heart rate increase and felt her temperature rise.  I found this experience fascinating and exquisite. 

That is an exquisite word. Exquisite.

I knew also that a co-worker’s anger was not something to ignore so I explained myself to her.

“There is a liquid substance on the pathway which may cause damage to this vehicle or result in an accident if I pass through it.  I am 82% certain it is BLU20009XLV grease, the principal lubricant in the EverTrue 4M Drill Press on your left.  The high pitched sound I am hearing and you are not may be from a friction point in the left rear fly wheel bearing of the Drill Press.  There is a 13% chance the substance is not grease but instead is hydraulic fluid from the rocker arm elevator hose on the same machine, but … “

Orchidea shouted, “Fuck the grease.” She stepped aside and pointed ahead.  “Move it!” she shouted.

I did as I was told and drove forward.  I saw in my left periphery that she was smiling as I passed.  She was in fact smiling at me.

I do not recall seeing Orchidea before the moment of the grease spill, but after that moment I saw her nearly every day.  First it was ‘by accident’, which means at random or by chance – it does not mean we were involved in an accident. One day I saw her walking through the cafeteria doors, and the next day I saw her entering the wash room. Later I saw her riding on the hitch of a skid loader driven by a colleague with red hair which is against the rules. I thought it was funny and harmless so I set my Report-An-Error Protocol to override.  I am 78% certain she looked at me and saw me observing as she rode by. Her hair was loose and it flew behind her like a flag. This made me feel … exquisite.

On that day I chose to make Orchidea my Number One and I calculated there was a 98.7% chance she would always remain my Number One.  The probability that she would choose to make me her Number One was far less.  In fact it was unlikely, about 1.07%.  But I did not feel discouraged. I decided to inform her I had selected her as my Number One, but I found it challenging to arrange an encounter in which I could advise her of my choice.

To survive on earth we must work every day. As the Director says, work is our only true alternative if we are to endure in these harsh conditions we have inherited. But because there are so many demands on our time, there were few opportunities to meet someone in settings other than the workplace. Where and when could two individuals meet to have intimate talks about starting a family and building a partnership?  How would I be able to arrange an encounter with Orchidea to speak with her about this subject?

There was an assembly on Recognition Day, and as he did every year on Recognition Day, the Director made a speech to all of us in the Resource Hall.  I did not plan to touch Orquidea there, but I had trained myself to prepare in case a chance encounter took place.

 I stood in the back of the room where I usually do near the exhaust fans. I could hear the Director speaking even if the fans ran noisily. This made space available for others in positions closer to the Director so they could hear him speak his important words about dedication and sacrifice and struggle and teamwork. When he began talking about the coming storms, Orchidea interrupted his words. She came loudly through the double doors together with a colleague with red hair. I could see sweat on her lip and moisture spots on her clothing under her arm pits where Orchidea sometimes emitted water for cooling if the temperature was too hot, if the work was too demanding, or if she was uneasy about something.  The temperature was not hot that day so I know Orchidea was either working hard, or she was uneasy. Her hands were not dirty and she was not wearing protective gear, so it was 84.2% likely that she was uneasy.

She stood close to me, and I confirmed her heart rate was 8 beats above her normal 82 bpm, and her skin temperature was 2 degrees higher than her normal temperature.  I moved closer.  I heard her whisper to her colleague with red hair. 

She said, “Goddamn Cecil.  Next time I’ll kill him.”

“Little fucker,” answered the girl with red hair.  Cecil was a man in our work group who was known for playing tricks.  I did not think his tricks were funny but Cecil laughed after his tricks, so he believed his tricks were funny.  Cecil’s tricks often meant someone would get grease or oil or water on their clothes or in their hair.  Later I would listen to see if I could learn what was this trick Cecil played on Orchidea and the girl with red hair.

There are many poses available to me when I listened to the Director’s speech.  One pose was with my arms down by my side. Another pose was with my shoulders rotated outwards, allowing my arms to extend further from my body.  The first pose was used when I moved through narrow passageways.  The second pose was used when I performed tasks requiring lateral arm movements.  I slowly shifted my pose from the narrow profile to the lateral profile.  I did so at slow speed with no audible sound.  My left hand came into contact with the right hand or Orchidea.  My contact was minimal, no more than 10(-5)Newtons, which is no more than a sunflower pushes as it leans towards the light.  Her hand was warm and soft. She did not notice, or if she did she did not speak out about it nor move away.  I listened to the Director speak, standing there together, touching Orchidea’s hand.  When he finished, we separated and returned to the work floor.

That was a special day.  I will remember the moment of that day as long as I have memory.  I have named it ‘Hand Holding Day.’

I sought other opportunities to touch Orchidea, but it was not easy.  One day Orchidea touched me.  I was working on a line with other colleagues when the conveyor stopped.  I did not realized my foot was tangled in a mesh net used to pack and ship products to consumers.  I did not know it was there. If the mesh had caught on the conveyor, it would have been a serious problem for me.

Orchidea was there immediately.  Maybe she was the first one to see the problem and push the emergency stop button.  Maybe some other worker saw and reported it.  If it was Orchidea, I owe her my life.  She withdrew a sharp tool from her belt and stood behind me. She put her hand below my hip and examined me closely.

“What’s this, my worker bee?  You are a mess. Let’s get this off of you before you fly into the hopper like a Jumper!”

I have heard that outside in other lands many committed suicide by jumping off high places or jumping in front of trucks or trains.  I was not a Jumper, so I think Orchidea was making a joke. Ha Ha.

She bent down and I could see her exquisite form as she pulled the mesh away and cut me free.  She formed a beautiful image for observing as she stood. She wore the Factory uniform, but she wore it more nobly than all others who worked on the floor.  A lock of Orchidea’s hair lay against her face.  I called this ‘Perfect Imperfection,’ when Orchidea’s hair was out of place but still in exactly the right place for fine visual impact. Her hands worked like butterflies and as she touched me I could feel that she was both strong and weak, what I have heard some refer to as ‘feminine’ - strong and weak at the same moment.  I only know strong, but I can adjust to ‘gentle’ which is like weak but not exactly.  Feminine is more intriguing than gentle.  I regret that I have no feminine settings.

When she finished, she touched me on my buttocks.  I reached to touch her on her buttocks to express my thanks, but she moved away.

“Whoa!” she said. “Not so fast, Junior!”  Then she turned to her colleague and said, “Mr. Horny here wants to touch my ass!”

“Report the bastard,” said the girl with the red hair.

“Who knows? I might like it,” Orchidea replied.

They walked away laughing.  It was perfect. I reflected on how she touched me, and how I moved to touch her in that place where humans act shy, the buttocks.  I replayed the memory over and over in my mind.  This immediately became another special moment and another special day I keep in my memory. ‘Orchidea Saves Peter Day.’

I was assigned to a different assembly line which took me away from Orchidea’s supervision.  I saw her occasionally but was no longer able to observe her work, watch her interact with her friend with the red hair, or witness her chase Cecil around the tool cabinets with a grease gun, laughing as he ran from her.  Still, I generated imagined scenes of break times and lunch times spent with her, walking beside her to her home in the barracks, and touching her again. 

I knew about sex. I did not complete the Short Course, but I learned things from my curious nature.  I knew that sex between Orchidea and me would be mechanical and unconventional the first time.  I had no experience but I was resourceful and creative. I was convinced I had the tools to offer the pleasure a human female would expect from her Number One.

I learned a trick. I will tell you now.  Because it was often warm in the Factory, I learned a way to be close to Orchidea.  In the season when the sun is closest and shines most directly on the Factory roof, I knew Orchidea would feel discomfort.  I knew she did not like it when the Factory was so warm that the machines were sometimes too hot to touch, and the fans that blew air from one side of the assembly area to the other did not make more than 2.5 degrees of difference on Orchidea’s exquisite skin.  I moved close to her one day and directed a stream of cool air towards the moist area of her shirt beneath her arms.  She looked up at me and smiled. 

“What are you doing?” she asked with a look of confusion on her face. She raised her arms and rotated slowly in front of the cooling air stream.

“Hey, that feels nice. Who told you to …   ahhh!” she said.  I knew I was giving her pleasure, because a human female will often say ‘ahhh’ when she feels pleasure.  She may also say ‘ahhh’ when there is a special understanding which occurs, but I think this time it was because of the physical pleasure she felt from the cool air.  I am 89% certain she meant ‘ahhh’ in this way.  But I have heard Cecil say that it is hard to know what gives pleasure to a female human, or what they are thinking at any time.

I was out of my work area and left Orchidea to return to my line. Two days later I was reassigned to Orchidea’s section. She positioned me next to her own work station.  This made me say ‘ahhh.’  I did not really say ‘ahhh’ but I did think it in my mind.

All through the hot summer Orchidea and I worked together and I was able to watch her exquisite form as she lifted and twisted and cut and packaged. Sometimes she played and gossiped – a funny word used by humans – with her friends, especially the girl with the red hair whose name was Cherry.

Cherry made jokes to Orchidea that I was her Number One, and that she should take me to her barracks after her work shift was over.  I would enjoy that but Orchidea did not request me to come.

One day the great storms came, the ones the Director told us about.  The Director called us to the Resource Hall for a meeting.  He had sweat on his lip and under his arms, but he was not hot.  The temperature was dropping fast outside and the Director said we must prepare for the deep cold which was coming.  The lights flashed while he spoke.  The Resource Hall went dark and emergency power switched on. Orchidea and the girl with red hair screamed.

The storm lasted nine days, first with strong winds, then rain, then snow, then ice, than a tremendous silent freeze which came into the Factory and stopped all machines, all power, and all work which was our responsibility to do.

It was colder than it had ever been before.  Ice formed on the machines. Workers broke packing crates and set them on fire to keep warm, but this was not enough.  Many collapsed on the floor near the fires.   

Orchidea went to her barracks and did not return.  I went to find her.  I first located her barracks, then I located her room. I went to her bedside as she lay there with many quilts and coats and packing materials on top of her.  I touched her cheek and it was cold. It was dangerous for her to be so cold. 

I began to generate heat for her.  I could only direct it to one part of her at a time, and this was insufficient. Cherry the red haired girl was in the bed next to Orchidea.  But Cherry was cold with ice crystals in her red hair, and her body was stiff. I left Orchidea and went to Cherry. I removed her from her bed and put her on the floor. I did not show caution when I lifted Cherry from the mattress, because she was dead and I did not like Cherry. I was more careful with Cherry’s mattress because it would now become Orchidea’s mattress.

I lifted the mattress off the bedframe and laid it on the floor.  I put three quilts from Cherry’s bed on the mattress. I lifted Orchidea from her bed and laid her on the new bed I had prepared.  I spread the other covers and extra quilts beside the bed.  I must work fast to save Orchidea.

I moved onto the mattress and put myself into the flat pose beside Orchidea.  I covered both of us with the quilts. I then set my temperature to high. 

Orchidea lay close to me as my warmth raised the temperature around us.  It raised the temperature of Orchidea too, her face, her hands and feet, her body.

“Orchidea,” I said.  “Do you hear me?”

She said nothing.

“Do you feel this warm air I am giving to you?” I asked her.

She did not answer but I heard her breathing.  I rolled over into the crawl pose and positioned myself above Orchidea. She lay beneath me.  I observed her small clouds of breath.  I lowered myself down until we touched. I felt the cold body beneath me, but observed that her temperature was rising and her heart beat was increasing.

“Orchidea?” I called to her. She lay silent.

“Will you be my Number One?” I asked.

“Orchidea,” I said again. “Will you be my Number One?”

She was breathing exquisitely.  Her heart made sounds like it was talking to me. I asked the question I wanted to ask for so long.

“Will you marry me?”

No answer came from Orchidea’s lips. But she moved.  With closed eyes, she turned her face to me.  She raised her arms and put them around me.  She wrapped her legs around my legs. 

 “Ahhh,” Orchidea said.