The Light

By Fernando Viveros

The Light is a fiction novel that describes the life of a hypermodern society in which the speed of exponential development of technology has modified behavioral patterns, life expectancy, memory and the imagination of the human being.

The plot of The Light moves in the midst of individual post-truth of the protagonist, President Salvador Leal, and the antagonist, President Jackie Peres, concerning their vision of the planet, the human species and the conservation of freedom in the face of new technology. The characters are from two distinct demographic groups: those who have improved their capacities and the ones who have kept themselves natural. In the middle of their diverse lights and shadows, the possibility remains to preserve the freedom of decision to access or withdraw from new technologies to enjoy natural beauty, shared joy, empathy and solidarity. Hypermodern life is the darkness of uncertainty that can only be survived with the light of candor.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Caligrama
• Release date: Dec 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9788418500862

Fernando Viveros

Fernando Viveros nació en la Ciudad de México en 1960. Lector permanente y viajero por los cinco continentes. Doctor en creación literaria, promotor cultural, melómano y percusionista; doctor en Derecho, educador, maestro rural en África y en India; caminante, grumete. Fue diplomático en la embajada de México en Washington D.C. y en el consulado general en Los Ángeles (California). Destacado analista y escritor de distopías. Publicó la novela distópica Candidez y la presentó con éxito en Madrid, Lima, Bogotá, Medellín y en las Ferias Internacionales del Libro en Guadalajara, Monterrey, Chihuahua, Panamá y Guatemala. Continúa con su narrativa distópica con su novela Y seguiremos siendo nosotros.

Book preview

I Just Got Here

It’s noon on the dot. In that library teeming with myths and chiaroscuros, sheltered by books bearing history on their shoulders, paintings depicting distant volcanoes, nostalgic busts cast in bronze, and photographs of extraordinary events, Salvador Leal anxiously awaits a call from Jackie Peres. He stands before the large windows lavishing him with the view and the addictive aroma of the ash trees, the magnolias, the fig trees, and cypresses.

Not too long ago, all of that would have struck him as an unviable fantasy. He has been too innocent, quite naive. He reached this point without malice or the submission to it which malice expects. He constructed in his mind the hope of being able to express this without raising obstacles against his way of seeing the world, in order to receive its disinterested support, and to achieve what he promised to accomplish adventurously. He teeters between boundless hope and stark reality.

She calls him by way of her red screen, and he gazes into her eyes for the first time via augmented reality; he couldn’t have imagined this… it’s as if they had been together, but he never could he have believed that. He finds her similar in appearance to women from his country, although she may have a different history, a different worldview, and though she may defend, therefore, different interests. He listens to her speak to him in her language, and although Salvador Leal fakes the assurance he lacks at that very moment, he stutters through the conversation, one that is both superficial and according to protocol. Communicating digitally from a distance agitates him. He would have preferred personal contact, to feel the skin of her hand, see the pupils of her eyes, smell her body.

She stares at him through half-closed eyelids and smiles slightly. She demonstrates complete control of the conversation. She deeply knows Salvador Leal’s information: his shortcomings, how thinks and his actions, with whom he speaks, and the exact words he uses on his digital daily life. Because of that, and although he could look just like everyone else who has been in the same position he now occupies, she know he’s different. One part of him possesses a fresh sparkle in his eyes; he imagines a future different from the present in which he lives, and he is convinced that it is possible to achieve it, despite whatever obstacle. Uncertainty also inhabits him, and it never leaves his mind or his emotions, because he bears the tombstone of uncertainty, and because of that, he protects himself with the self-exile of silence reaching mute defiance and bittersweet irony. He walks unsteadily between ingenuousness and distrust, between remaining, and having to bid farewell because of fate. His usage of boasts is his only remedy, and he lives with the hope of being able to rid himself of the past, wrapping it up in its flag, and flinging it into the void.

He no longer believes in its very myths, nor in its legends, nor its heroes he was forced to venerate. He imagines history to be different, and that above all, he can change the life before him. He doesn’t resign himself to the melancholy memory of his region, torn by walled borders, of its broken families, of that bitter absurdity he perceives. Because of that, he aspires to reinvent a history and to construct a promised future, although he may not grasp the magnitude of the challenges, nor the threats hounding him. Nevertheless, he remains bent on breathing quickly and wanting action, on feeling the thunderclaps’ vibrations in his chest announcing their interior torments.

Jackie Peres gets to the point. She mentions to him, without further ado, that he was chosen to arrive at that library during years of profound change in humanity’s history. That reality changes dramatically and that, for her, it is necessary that Salvador Leal share his vision of the future. In her country, the growth of technological developments is exponential because they seek to increase human possibilities.

President Leal, I am speaking to you about a process that can’t be stopped, because it has taken on its own life. Your country, just like the rest of the world, will have to adapt to surviving in this new stage of evolution, she says rapidly.

Well, yes, technology has played an important role in civilization; as long as this is directed to help the people, for us, there would be no inconvenience.

It’s precisely that which wish to see: to achieve that well-being, to extend human life with more abilities and to make people feel better about themselves.

She rises from her chair and stands behind his seat. She holds the back of the chair with two hands and says, while looking at the camera, that they must defend the right to live, and therefore, they use the necessary biotechnology to prolong life for as long as possible, and to incorporate devices into the organism that could strengthen the body and mind and perhaps biochemically balance their expectations and pleasures.

Although what you propose might seem appealing, I still believe that, despite the advancements that have taken place, there exits inequalities throughout the plant and they continue to create malnutrition, disease, and violent death. I consider that the resources and cooperation between our countries should allocated to solve these problems, and prior to embarking on the projects you mention. Naively replied Salvador.

We can’t wait. The major problems, in comparison to previous epochs, have been resolved steadily, and they will be resolved more rapidly with technology, rather than without. Inequality has always been, even back when fire was first used when we lived in caves up to the present and with regards to those who control technology and artificial intelligence.

Prolonging our life expectations would bear many consequences. What would daily life be like for someone 160 years old? Would the time limits of education, years of working and governing, retirement, consumption, and marriage be extended as well? How would the costs for public services, food, housing, and public transportation for an increasing population be covered? Salvador Leal stutters nervously.

What I have suggested is our main objective. We will continue to advance without pausing, because each new step will lead to another. The more consumers there are, the better for the economy. She responds firmly. The rest are changes pertaining to evolution, and it will have adapt to them. Between living and dying, we will continue to choose living. There’s no doubt about that.

We won’t be able to avoid falling into pit of endless expectations. The more that’s achieved, the more that’s desired, accompanied by frustration and anxiety. We will always live unsatisfied.

Biochemistry, along with the memory of the sensation of pleasant moments, will help us so that the people continue being active and in order, producing, and letting that make them feel at ease and content. In short, it’s about living a lot, and better, with pleasure, in order to continue consuming. That’s our priority, concludes Jackie Peres. My Senior Advisor, Ron Kouspensky, will speak and explain one of the transcendental programs for the type of the life for the planet that we’re promoting and the assistance that I need from you to minimize resistance in the Hispanic region. I am certain that you will not forget that your country survives by way of the aid we provide in arms, training, and intelligence, to fight the cartels of organized crime that have weakened during the past decades. I ask that you welcome him as soon as possible, and that you listen to him closely. This is a matter of utmost importance to the planet. We’ll be in contact, President Leal.

The content of Jackie Peres’s approach could have touched upon any topic, and it wouldn’t have mattered. What he finds uncomfortable is the manner in which the message was dictated. Salvador Leal can’t stand the commanding tone. He doesn’t like it when others control him, give him instructions, or tell him what he must do. He’s a rebel since birth. Since boyhood, he’s been accustomed to disobeying, to following his instincts. He would blindly trust his intuitions. Over and over again, he has proved the truth residing in his internal voice, the one advising him, and the one who suffered the consequences when he ignored it. He can’t act in a stately manner, nor be in accord without expressing what he thinks and what he feels, without having the opportunity to show the practical convenience of what’s upheld. From deep within, full liberty to be consistent. He can’t fake nor concede to social conventions, and definitely not bow to political correctness.

That being said, he’s learning how to navigate the new waters, and how to measure out his impulses. He knows he can’t resist finding out about the program’s content, gather all of the possible information, draft a strategy to follow, and establish alliances that will allow him to counteract Jackie Peres’s demand. He controls his breathing and keeps silent. He observes her face, and he finds how, behind that severe face, so full of power, there is the glimpse of an ingenuous smile that stirs his curiosity. He says goodbye with the drive to accomplish much, the task at hand of not knowing how to do so, but with the inexplicable obsession to never give up.

The Program

Salvador Leal is there, ready to do what’s necessary, and gripping his energy, he’s bent on success. He shouldn’t wait, but nor should he fail. A certain electricity vibrates beneath his skin. He yearns with a premature haste to travel that mysterious world of echoes and blinding lights which, only a few months in the past, proved distant and out of his reach. He has occupied that library for only a few weeks. Today he believes the world’s his oyster. His hopes are on the point of being realized and the hope vested in the votes he received will soon be realized. Why should I not take advantage of the possibilities that power offers in order to govern the created interests but without compromising myself, and achieve necessary balances and bring about concrete advances? He thinks.

They announce the arrival of the person he was anxiously awaiting. His pulse quickens, and his mouth dries up, but he asks that the guest be admitted at once. He takes several steps to the now open door and extends his hand to that man who has his hair combed back with brilliantine, but with wrinkles on his forehead, and who regards Salvador Leal without blinking. It’s Ron Kouspensky, the envoy of Jackie Peres. He seats before the main desk, and with a grave, yet clear voice, he gets to the point:

Let me tell you, Doctor Leal, that I don’t believe you even remember with detail the third part of what you have experienced during the past few months. He tells him while accommodating spectacles with thick black plastic rims.

What do you mean? Asks Salvador Leal.

He listens with astonishment to what Kouspensky explains: that, by way of Memory Chips inserted behind the ear, any type of information, even a person’s memory through a memory bank enclosed inside a Memory Cloud. All of this sounds to him like something lifted from a Ray Bradbury novel. From the start, one presupposes a swarm of problems to carry out such an undertaking in a country like his, one with a multitude of contrasts and vast socioeconomic divisions. Slightly more than half of the population is on-line, and so it seems foolish for them to mention a proposal that is so complex, with an unimaginable reach. He feels pressured and he can’t yet comprehend how the economic, political, and sociological consequences by straggling behind this advancement are greater than the inconvenient ethics.

He stays silent, stunned, exuding frustration and distrust, but his sense of intuition, like a watchdog defending its master, appears by his side, and he asks, with precision, as to how large the earnings will be to one who can sell this technology on a large scale, and if someone can handle all of the information.

Artificial intelligence has achieved independence from the intervention of human intelligence. You must know that we possess a sufficient biotechnology to prevent disease and to feel at ease. That’s why we consider this program to unify our memory to be viable, as we as for us to be in agreement as a community, says Kouspensky.

I don’t believe the population of Latin American countries to be in disposition nor to find themselves in an opportune moment to submit themselves to a program of this nature, one with glaringly inconvenient ethics, Salvador Leal adds immediately. Above all, if our economy has not grown, and 30 percent of our population lives in poverty, lacking basic access to healthcare, education, and proper living conditions. One would need to respect the opinion and the decision of the population to choose a natural condition of living, without any technological improvements in their bodies.

Kouspensky agrees by nodding his head and then informs Leal with blunt severity: As has occurred in other countries, there may be uprisings and radical, sectarian groups that may choose to not venture into the program. But experience dictates that before the unstoppable artificial evolution, there clearly develops two opposing and antagonistic groups: the improved ones who create, produce, finance, and govern, and the natural ones who only work, consume, and get into debt.

That is a dramatic scene, says Salvador Leal, sitting into the back of his seat.

It will be up to you to make the decision and see it through. Our companies and laboratories can start immediately with the acquisition, selling and distribution of the memory-chips, the computer hardware, software packages, prosthesis, equipment and factories, as well as the repairs we make for nano and biotechnology, answer Kouspensky mechanically, as if he were placing an order.

The conversation with Kouspensky continues and during it Salvador Leal becomes aware and preoccupied by the speed with which technology develops, and how it’s even quicker than he had thought. Given current circumstances, one can’t marginalize oneself from what occurs across the planet with regards to scientific and technological advances. He remembers a life without so much Internet, without social media, and the enjoyment derived from communicating in person, and not via a computer screen, and of sharing the delight of all of his senses when interacting with others. Flooded by nostalgia, he remembers the old-fashioned telephone there was in his parents’ and grandparents’ homes, and how one would dial numbers by inserting one’s index finger into the rotary dialer; transistor televisions, and the first transmissions in Technicolor, and only three channels; public telephones that cost 20 cents; memory albums with black and white photographs; LPs of his favorite artists and which would be played with a record needle; his pocket agenda wherein he would jot down telephone numbers and weekly appointments with blue ink from a pocket-pen; Sunday matinees at the movie theater; reading from books fragrant with age; meeting his girlfriends in person and at the most unexpected place, and falling in love by gazing at them directly in the eyes, and perceiving aromas, caressing skin, listening to songs and sighs, savoring kisses; and, above all, the time necessary to observe sky, sea, and mountains.

Kouspensky overwhelms him with data and arguments. He tells him that telecommunications and the Internet have almost complete contact with children, adolescents, adults, and the elderly from any social class; that smart cities have multiplied; that with mobile Broadband, new gadgets and apps appear daily; that innovation is obsessive and impossible to stop on an Internet of Nano-things, with artificial intelligence and biotechnology to write the genetic code, to reproduce human organs through 3D printing, and to map the human brain.

Salvador Leal cannot deny that the computer usage of the Internet and Cloud for services have modified almost all human behaviors, but he is reluctant about letting them change his. In silence, he knows that he has lost the invisible charm of hands free, head upright, and smiling at peace with oneself.

Salvador Leal

When I returned from my postgraduate studies in Spain, I lived in a furnished room and, after strolling around and exercising every morning, I would travel in public transportation or give classes on Sociology at the National University.

Days would pass by slowly. I would walk around the streets and see diverse rivers of people, forming an enormous dragon of collective boredom. In their faces, I could discern skepticism, resentment, and bitterness. Every morning, I would read of, or hear about some new case regarding corruption, without there ever being a result. As if it were a daily activity, everyday someone would lie, steal, hurt others, take advantage of others, or line their pockets at whatever cost. The examples would just repeat themselves. And this was a massive contagion, a collective epidemic. If the company boss, one’s cousin and next-door neighbor would do it, Why wouldn’t the rest? There were no consequences, and everything could be taken care of by way of greasing someone’s palm.

I focused on investigating dozens of corruption cases, and what I would discover was always the same pattern: narcissists addicted to ambition, excess, and ostentation. The results would appear on my homepage, and, little by little, the allegations went viral. Readers would click a like on the information, or they would post new cases. Although the evidence was crystal-clear, irrefutable and obvious to viewers, there were never any consequences. Impunity prevailed. Denouncements were filed away, while the vertigo of daily life would distract public attention and keep the public focused on trivial affairs.

What remained positive was how that aberrant reality failed at stealing my sense of humor: a sense of humor remained my main balsam to find distance, relaxation, and enjoy the comical and absurd side of daily situations. I was slowly but surely changing into an agile executioner and butcher of the solemnity and hypocrisy to relieve the latent tension that, like a black cloud, floated in the general