The Future Library by Peng Shepherd

Author:Peng Shepherd [Shepherd, Peng]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781250828675
Google: 5vc4EAAAQBAJ
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 2021-08-17T23:00:00+00:00

* * *

The next day at the morning meeting, I raised my hand to speak before Prime Minister Sjur or Vice-Director Oliveira could begin with the minutes. I needed to tell them the whole story. To tell them the truth, before they destroyed the forest attempting to discover it.

But before I could start, Minister Berg leaned forward to his table microphone, cutting me off. “I’d like to talk about symbols,” he said slowly.

“Symbols?” I asked, surprised.

Minister Berg cleared his throat and smiled.

Suddenly, I could tell that whatever he was about to say next had been rehearsed. That the other officials already knew. There was some sort of plan, and they had already all agreed on it.

“Of hope. Of the future. That a human’s life might continue even after their body is gone.”

“But—” I paused, tried to remain collected. I looked at Gunnar beside me, but he was looking at Minister Berg, not me. “That’s not what’s happening here, with the ashes and the words. It’s not the truth—”

“Truth for truth’s sake is academic, at best. But we live in the world. The most noble purpose of truth is to benefit the greater good,” Minister Berg continued, voice echoing through the ugly grey room. “I think, with the right balance between environmental protection and humanitarian considerations, the Future Library might be able to do even more for the forest—and mankind—than we’d previously hoped.”

“I have evidence,” I tried to say, but I was already panicking. “I can show you.”

Evidence of what? I expected him to ask, but he said, “A proposal, for the board’s consideration,” instead. He was facing the rest of the table now, not me. As if I hadn’t spoken at all.

I looked desperately at Gunnar again as Minister Berg began to describe his idea for the Forever Contest. Of holding an annual call for cremated remains from the global public, and a drawing to decide which to “plant.” Of allowing just a few of these last trees to be cut down each year, so we could read the words written inside their wood—the last words of the planted person. Words from beyond death, words that meant that a person was never really gone.

They already knew it would become the single greatest event in human history. You could see it in their eyes. Earth was spiraling toward death, and people were terrified. There wasn’t a person still alive who would be able to resist entering.

I tried to argue, but it was useless. What politicians can do with words seems like a kind of magic Claire might have invented in one of her novels.

“The funding would continue indefinitely this way,” Minister Berg was saying, and the rest of them were nodding. “Each tree in Nordmarka is certainly precious, but we still have thousands of them. If we’re careful, if we create a strict annual maximum number…”

Gunnar still would not look at me. “Gunnar, please,” I said to him as the minister continued his speech. I touched his arm to force him to pay attention.

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