Warning: This fiction short story contains dark humour, violence, and coarse language. It is not appropriate for young or sensitive readers.
Inspiration: This short story was inspired by our modern world where harmful noise is accepted as a fact of life. Authorities and decision makers talk about making the future safer and healthier for future generations. While they talk about clean air and water, quiet healthy soundscapes are rarely mentioned. We can’t close our ears like we can close our eyes. What would a future world be like if we continue to ignore noise?
“That was a ripper!” cried Tod, as the final drones crashed in an ear-splitting roar.
“Best drone soccer final in years,” shouted Rex.
Not that Tod could hear them over the booming music and crowd roar in the stadium. He could see his best friend’s lips moving. But as usual, he had to rely on reading Rex’s subtitle scarf to catch their meaning.
People often thought they were siblings, with their curly brown hair, broad shoulders, tall lanky frames, and wide grins. Since they’d met at the repair shop where they worked as machinists, they’d been inseparable friends.
They pushed their way out of the stadium to the crowded Skytrain platform. The vids looming overhead blared messages from advertisers in between announcements about incoming trains.
People ignored the hermetically sealed train buzzing by with a bunch of rich Haves inside. The HaveNot trains rumbled through with a roar that vibrated in Tod’s chest.
When their train arrived, they pushed on. Creating space with their elbows until they could grab onto the hand bars. They swayed slightly, bracing with their legs, as the train thundered out of the station.
Usually they ignored the vids pumping out messages inside the train car. But not today. Not when The Quiet Dome Lottery results were imminent.
Rex poked him in the side. Tod twisted his head so he could read Rex’s subtitles. It was annoying when the tail of Rex’s scarf was caught under their faded blue shirt, cutting off the ends of their words. Tod had to mentally fill in the blanks.
“The countdown’s starting soon,” said Rex.
Tod nodded.
“What do ya think? Is this our year?”
Tod shrugged. “We’ve paid into lottery entries enough times. Sure to strike lucky sooner or later.”
“Yer scarf is glitzing,” said Rex.
Tod grabbed the power button on the edge of his subtitle scarf, and powered it off and on again. “Maybe it’s our lucky year.”
Rex smiled. “One hundred percent.”
A talking head popped up on the vids with a ticker tape of closed captioning flowing by below.
The countdown will begin shortly for this year’s Quiet Dome Lottery. [Jazzy music playing.]
People in the train perked up. Eyes shifted from glazed over to sharply attentive to the vid.
The announcer carried on.
Who will be the lucky winners to spend a day in The Quiet Dome? Who will experience life like a Have in quiet luxury?
“Fingers crossed. And toes,” said Rex.
Despite unprecedented protests by Haves unwilling to give up their Quiet Dome sanctuary, even for a day, authorities have decided to proceed with this year’s lottery.
“Effing pricks,” muttered Tod.
Rex snorted. He could speechread that without any trouble.
The number 100 began to flash on screen.
What can 100 HaveNot lottery winners expect? An all-inclusive day at the luxurious Quiet Dome. This includes free shuttles between designated pick-up/drop-off stations and the venue plus an array of snacks, meals, and non-alcoholic beverages.
Rex poked Tod in the side again. “I heard it was just rice crackers, tofu stir fry, and soy milk tea last year. Not much of a spread.”
“Effing pricks,” repeated Tod. He was getting a crick in his neck from looking back and forth between the vid and Rex’s scarf.
The lucky lottery winners can expect to spend the day enjoying nature inside The Quiet Dome. Non-disclosure agreements make it impossible to provide further details. But past winners anonymously concur. It was unforgettable.
A graphic of fireworks began behind the number 100 flashing in bigger and bigger fonts, until it took up the full screen. [Fireworks exploding.]
“It’s starting,” shouted Rex. Their words were still inaudible as the train screeched and rattled around a curve in the track.
When the countdown began, people in the train shouted along. “100, 99, 98…”
At the end, there was a pause. Then Tod felt his comm vibrate inside his pocket. He felt Rex startle beside him.
“My comm is buzzing,” said Rex.
“Mine too,” said Tod.
“Probably just work.”
“Check together?” asked Tod.
As they rumbled into the next station, Rex grabbed Tod’s arm and pulled him off the train towards an empty corner of the platform.
They stood side-by-side, and pulled out their comms to discover identical messages:
Congratulations! You have officially won a spot in this year’s Quiet Dome lottery. Please use the link provided to confirm your attendance at this special event.
“Is it spam?” asked Rex.
Tod checked the link on his comm’s search engine. “Looks legit.”
“Did we both really win?”
“I think we really won, mate,” said Tod.
Rex grabbed him in a bone crushing hug. They whooped so loud, they couldn’t even hear the next train roll through. Winning The Quiet Dome lottery had to be the best day of their lives. This was going to be a once in a lifetime adventure.
The morning of their visit to The Quiet Dome, Rex popped by Tod’s place so they could head to the shuttle stop together. Tod’s big screen on the living room wall was blaring as usual. He always cranked the volume so he could hear it over the roar of delivery drones, airtaxis, and planes overhead. His walls shook and dishes rattled with every passing aircraft.
“Use the fricking closed captioning,” said Rex.
“My eyes get tired using it all the time,” said Tod.
He felt his pharmimplant buzz slightly when it delivered his meds. He sighed, and pulled out his comm to check his funds balance. It dropped quickly from the daily pharma fees. No point complaining about it.
The BlockNoise meds were mandatory since hearing loss from noise damaged ears caused widespread dementia that crippled healthcare systems. Not to mention the noise-induced obesity, heart disease, diabetes, and brain damaged kids and teens. Obviously, the meds only worked for some people. But every bit helped.
After The Revolution, Big Pharma came up with their meds for everyone, but whoo, they were expensive. Tod supposed he could eat more rice and beans. Or there was always instant ramen. Rent must be made somehow.
They walked to the pick-up station amidst the cacophony of traffic, waiting at the designated stop. As usual, buskers were competing on the adjacent corner. This day it was the blaring bagpiper versus the punk dude with his speaker thumping out a cover of Sixth Grade Softball.
“Very retro,” said Tod. “Remember that vid of their big concert at TwoSis Stadium?”
Rex smiled. “Won’t be playing that at The Quiet Dome, I reckon.”
“One hundred percent,” said Tod.
The shuttle pulled in with a cloud of noise. Tod and Rex shuffled on with the rest of this year’s winners.
The autobot driver pulled out from the curb with a lot of honking and an announcement. “Check the vids in front of you for an InfoSafety message from The Quiet Dome.”
A cheery voice spoke while the closed captioning rolled by.
[Drumroll. Martial music.] Winners. That’s what your. Winners. Having won makes you a Have, if only for a few hours.
Get ready to experience life like a Have inside The Quiet Dme.
Get ready to experience natural soundscapes like never before.
Get ready to sign the mandatory non-disclosure agreement and liability waiver.
What happens in The Quiet Dome, stays in The Quiet Dome.
The Quiet Dome is not responsible for any injury or side effecgs associated with your visit today.
Rex rolled their eyes. “You’d think they could spring for SpellnGramma check.”
Tod snorted.
The screens filled with fine print. Like everyone else on the shuttle, they both quickly scrolled down, down, down, down to the bottom, using their fingers on the screen to check off the required boxes and scrawl their signatures.
Rex cast their scarf’s subtitles to the vid closest to them. “Should we have read that?”
Tod laughed. “What are they going to do? Sue us for all our dollas?”
Rex grinned. “Like getting blood from a stone.”
Apparently nobody else was reading the fine print either. They didn’t have to wait long until the vid squealed before filling with an image of an enby AI sitting at a desk. An arrival time countdown clock ticked down in the corner of the vid.
A large text heading flashed above the AI: THE FOLLOWING INFOSAFETY MESSAGE IS MANDATRY VIEWING! The AI made an attempt to look serious as they spoke above the scrolling message text.
What happens next?
You will soon be entering The Quiet Dome. Like Have compounds, The Quiet Dome is a natural soundscape with no amplified or manufactured audio sources permitted.
“Ooooh, sounds scary,” said Tod. He didn’t think Rex heard him.
…greenery and wildlife, including various creatures and birds living their lives. Leave them alone to avoid attacks. Lunch will be buffet style.
Most folks in the bus groaned.
Be warned. The Quiet Dome entry and exit doors work by air pressure differences. Expect to be sucked in as quickly as you are forced out. Keep your limbs close to your body in doorways to avoid injury.
Be warned. The Quiet Dome has designated walking paths and eating areas. Stay on the path and follow the arrows. Keep your limbs close to your body on pathways and in the eating areas to avoid injury.
Be warned. Do not impose your own sounds on others while in The Quiet Dome. You will be ejected if you create a ruckus or undue noise at any time, includijjng loud talking, screaming, or personal audio.
Failure to comply with InfoSafety rules will result in immediate ejection from The Quiet Dome.
Youc an’t say we didn’t warn you. You can’t sue The Quiet Dome for anything.
“Same old bullshit, except we get lunch included,” said Rex.
Tod laughed.
As they neared The Quiet Dome facility, Tod noticed a bunch of people outside the fortified fence line shaking signs and shouting. A new message appeared on the shuttle vids.
RIDER ALERT! A bunch of AntiNoise losers are protesting The Quiet Dome lottery winners. Ignore them and their stupid signs.
“Get a load of the signs,” said Rex.
A person with wild hair like Einstein held a sign saying Make every day quiet!
A fem looking type shook a sign with crooked green letters. No Noise! No Pharma!
Trust Nobody!! she/her read a sign from an older woman wearing a red checked tartan subtitle scarf and matching beanie. She reminded Tod of a previous winner who had violated their nondisclosure agreement over some side effect before promptly disappearing from public vids.
Other signs were similar. The protesters’ mouths stretched wide and flapped with yelling.
“What are they saying?” asked Tod.
“Hard to figure,” said Rex. “Don’t do it? Don’t go?”
“Stop, stop, bell, stop?” said Tod.
Rex raised an eyebrow. “Weird.”
Tod didn’t tuck his arms in far enough. So his first sensation after being sucked into The Quiet Dome was throbbing pain from his banged elbow. The second was the loss of sound.
No more background cacophony. Only the faint chirping and twittering of birds overhead. The sigh of some type of fake wind. Distant trickling sounds like a tap left on. The shuffle of feet on the pathway.
He noticed Rex swiping at his ears. Tod asked, “What’s up?”
“Do you hear that?” Sweat was beading on Rex’s face, and his eyes darted in panic.
Tod listened. There was a faint whine that slowly grew louder. Filling his head like the squeal of truck brakes slammed on hard. A background roar like waterfalls in vids of yore expanded around the squeal. “What is that?”
“It’s in my head, Tod. Jangling,” cried Rex. “How do I make it stop?”
“My head is roaring and squealing,” said Tod.
One of the other winners screamed and ran off the path. Bashing their head into a tree trunk before security grabbed them and hustled them away.
Rex made a move towards the tree, but Tod snagged the back of their jacket and kept Rex on the path.
Winners clumped together. Questioning each other in low voices even though nobody had any answers. “What do you hear?” “What if it never stops?” “Is there a cure?”
One of the older folks burst into tears. “I can’t take it,” they cried. Reaching up, they ripped off their right ear, and then their left. As bilateral blood streamed down their neck, they sobbed harder and screamed, “It’s still there. Tooting and whistling!”
More security rushed in. “Again?” whined one guard.
“You owe me. Bet was fair and square,” chuckled the second quietly while they grabbed the still screaming person and hustled them away.
Somebody gagged. Tod cringed, hoping this wouldn’t turn into a literal barf fest.
An autobot scuttled down the pathway towards them. It wore a large hat labeled TINNITUS TRIAGE, and carried a portable vid streaming a looped message at least at 2x speed.
[…in your ear? Tinnitus is the name, and triage is the game. Follow the pathway and signage for your choice of 3 options. Buffet. Pharmimplant. Bell Research. All previous signatures including release from indemnity and nondisclosure agreements apply. Sounds in your ear? Tin…]
A moppet with face tattoos tore off down the pathway. Arms pumping and knees high. Rex grabbed Tod’s arm and pulled him along. Running barely fast enough to keep the moppet in sight.
Tod was a bit surprised to see the moppet veer off towards the buffet. Until he saw them grab a knife from the cutlery station. Security closed in as the moppet aimed the knife at their left ear canal. Their hand trembled, and tears trickled down their cheeks.
“I got no dollas left,” they cried out.
When he and Rex got closer, Tod heard security murmuring, “Don’t do it. It won’t help.”
Rex pulled on Tod’s arm. “I’m not doing the fucking buffet.”
They carried on down the pathway. A few of the other winners veered to the buffet, and began walking around with plates choosing snacks. The rest followed behind Tod and Rex at different rates of speed and urgency.
Tod winced when he heard a piercing shriek of pain from the buffet area. Then a second. They finally reached the Pharmimplant and Bell Research stations which were close together on either side of the pathway.
At the Pharmimplant station, an autobot dressed in scrubs was behind a metallic counter holding a POS terminal for electronic funds transfers. There was upbeat background music too soft to drown out the noise in Tod’s head. The front of the counter had a vid message displayed.
[T-STOP. A proven pharmimplant for stopping tinnitus sounds in their tracks. Get yours now! Autobot provides pricing on request. Rare side effects may include nausea, dizziness, hallucinations, gangrene of the…]
“The signs outside,” said Rex. “No pharma. Let’s check out the research.”
“They also said trust nobody,” said Tod.
Rex ignored him, so Tod followed them over to the Bell Research station. It was manned by a hulking bald man with magnificent green eyes. He was wearing an upside down tag on his chest with only He/Him on it.
“Step right up,” he mumbled.
“Do you know how to read?” asked Tod.
“Huh?” The glorious green eyes looked blank.
Tod found it hard to focus between the noise in his head and all the vids streaming different content. The biggest had a portrait of a distinguished looking bearded person in a white lab coat. The image reminded Tod of Ryan Reynolds, the historic actor turned acclaimed world diplomat. The caption read: Doctor Bell–Greatest Tinnitus Researcher Ever.
“This looks promising,” said Rex.
“Not really,” said Tod. He pointed to a vid showing some type of disclaimer.
[Consider yourself cautioned. No guarantees, but imagine yourself cured by revolutionary tinnitus research.] The font got a lot smaller.
[Doctor Bell is not and will never be affiliated with clinicaltrials.gov. Doctor Bell has paid a monetary fee in order to represent his services at The Quiet Dome.]
“How much does it cost?” Rex asked the green-eyed giant.
“You only have to pay if the cure works. Except for materials and handling fees.”
“What does that even mean?” asked Tod.
“And it could really stop this fucking noise in my head?” asked Rex.
“Doc says there’s only one way to find out. But you’ll piss him off if you don’t call him Doctor. Says his current experiment looks like the best chance for a cure yet.”
Rex said, “I’m doing it.”
“Buddy,” said Tod. “Please no. It seems super sketch.”
“When do I start?” Rex asked.
“No time like the present,” said the bald hulk. “Follow the blue path to our minibus. Doc is expecting more suc…Subjects.”
Tod shook his head as Rex walked away. He wandered back to the Pharmimplant station. Two people were now ahead of him in line. Both added T-Stop to their daily pharma doses.
The older grizzled one sighed as their implant delivered the first dose. “Hey, I can still hear it.”
“It takes a while,” said the autobot. “By the time you’re back outside The Quiet Dome, the T-Stop should start kicking in.”
“How much is it,” asked Tod.
The autobot showed him the POS screen with the pharma fee pricing for daily doses.
Tod gulped. “Is that my pharma total?”
The autobot shook its head. “Just T-Stop. It’s a subscription daily dose”
Could he afford it on beans and rice? Would he have to switch proteins to the black market roaches with a reputation for botulism if batched wrong?
His head ached from the tinnitus squealing and roaring. He had to do something. “I’ll get it,” Tod told the autobot. “Do I have to sign something?”
“Already covered in the fine print,” said the autobot.
Tod shrugged, and tapped his comm for the electronic funds transfer. He sighed as his implant buzzed with the first T-stop dose. But the tinnitus was still there.
“Outside,” said the autobot.
“Hurry up,” said the person behind Tod in line. They gave him a bit of a shove as he moved away.
Tod forgot about the doors again. He was still rubbing his sore elbow after being rapidly propelled out of The Quiet Dome. He listened for the squealing and roaring. It was there. But already starting to fade under the familiar crash and zoom of noise around him.
The familiar looking protestor wearing the red checked tartan subtitle scarf and matching beanie walked up. “Thank the gods you didn’t trust Bell,” she said. “His guinea pigs never leave out the main door.”
She pulled off her beanie and turned her head so Tod could see what was left of her ears. There were only gaping holes dripping with pus, surrounded by what looked like melted cartilage dripping down like candle wax. “Nondisclosure agreement, my ass.”
He felt a deep pang of fear for Rex. He was right to. He didn’t know this day would be the last time he’d see his friend. There would be nothing left of Rex in the mute shattered shell of a person who returned weeks later. Financially ruined by fees, to add insult to injury.
“Did you mistrust the Pharmimplant too?” she asked.
Tod felt his face flush pink. “I couldn’t handle it. The T-Stop seems like it’s working already.”
“It’s a double-edged sword. Noise causes tinnitus, and noise helps cover it up. You were going to notice it less anyway outside The Quiet Dome. We figure T-Stop is a placebo. Sugar pill. Pretty much pure profit.”
“I can always quit.”
She barked a laugh. “Says who? It’s a lifetime subscription. You can never cancel.”
“I can stop the funds transfer. I’ve done that before.”
“You really didn’t read the fine print, did you?” she said. “They get us right from the start with signing all that bullshit in the autobus. Pharma owns you. You can never cancel the subscription.”
“But,” spluttered Tod.
“Noise wins. Every time.” She walked away, shaking her head sadly, dragging her Trust Nobody sign behind.
Author’s Note: I am a proud Canadian living near Vancouver, British Columbia. I like doing shout outs to local talent in my stories. This includes popular post-emo band Sixth Grade Softball, including their bassist, songwriter, and my future daughter-in-law Jaylin Wylie. Of course, I have always fangirled Ryan Reynolds. I stan Ryan to play the notorious Doctor Bell if his satirical tinnitus terror tales are ever filmed.