What are the Kyuborian Chronicles?

This is difficult to say. One day at work we received a shipment of computers. They were Dell products, I believe. 3.6 GHz Xeon processors, 2MB cache, embedded PERC4ei, 4GB 400Mhz single ranked DIMMS, 146 GB hard drive, PE2850 Hard Drive Backplane.

The details escape me.

The truck that delivered these units parked close to my window, which I had only recently managed to pry open. My cubicle borders a wall, and thus has a window. The fresh air was delightful, and I frequently inhaled deeply, enjoying the fruity bouquet of nearby cherry blossoms.

On the day of the delivery, which was an especially fragrant spring morning, my lungs were filled with capricious energy. I breathed in and out, conscious of little beyond the rhythmically pure essence of the dewy air. Then it happened.

The fumes from the truck quietly invaded my lungs, then quickly filled my bloodstream with sooty particulate. It was not long, minutes only, before my very mind became corrupted.

In a smog-filled stupor I composed the Kyuborian Chronicles, and I post them here for your perusal. The question that naturally arises is this: Do the Chronicles accurately represent life in a cubicle?

I cannot say with certitude. Though the mind will play tricks, altered reality sometimes mimics perception. You will have to be your own judge.

I give you, The Kyuborian Chronicles.

The Kyuborian Chronicles

Kyuboria has been my life. I scarcely know how to express the delight it brings me, the pangs of remorse I feel when I am far from its borders, or the longing to embrace its misty tendrils as I venture forth from its hallowed boundaries. There are others, I know, who share this passion, though dare not reveal their tempestuous angst. It is for them—the other Kyuborians, the silent sufferers within—it is for them, for you, perhaps, that I pen this tale. For this is a story of all of us; it is the saga of…Kyuboria.

Chronicle 1

Three days past a runner arrived with exciting news. It seems that the Overseer is inclined to replace our well-functioning system with a version of far lesser capability and greater complexity. Throughout Kyuboria there is an ephemeral ringing, and one can almost hear the cart as it rounds the near bend. Some have declared this shall be our undoing; the majority sit idly by, unable to act on what is thought to be relevant data, but who can say? Still, our plight cannot but be changed by this turn of fortune.

I arrived today in a sorry state. My hatred for all things Kyuborian was quite excessive, and a pall of dark indifference hovered within. Though I am first of all Kyuborian during these times, there is an oppressive nature that permeates the necessity of my citizenship. I cannot cast off this unwelcome spectre, nor can I bear it. Surely, something must give.

For the first time ever I counted my panels today. There are nine, though not of uniform dimension. The doorway I did not count, as it is without panel, and serves only as an entrance, or an egress. The panels, contrarily, are a barrier, and a containment.

I shall stand up now, look about, and then describe what I have seen. I shall do this only once, for it is fair that the reader should know what lies about. (Standing). (Sitting). What I have seen is curious. There is a window, several, some distance off. Within the same building as me, of course, and close enough that I could hit any of them with a thrown object. It would have to be of moderate size, though. A bookcase would be too large, especially fully loaded. It simply could not carry the distance due to its mass. A single book though, that is a likely thing, if it were of average weight. I could toss a copy of Dr. Zhivago well far enough to reach the window. Perhaps even Anna Karenina. (Not she herself, I think, but the novel).  I one day shall perhaps try.

What else I beheld whilst I stood was, to all appearances, an extension of Kyuboria. This will sound strange to the reader, I am certain, but it is completely accurate. As if physically attached, a sea of panels stretched in all directions, seeming to end in the distance, by a far wall, and terminating also at the edges of Kyuboria itself. This will bear further exploration, and some serious thought. Is it possible that I stood up too fast, and bereft of oxygen from lack of blood-flow, my mind has played some fiendish trick on me? Perhaps the Kyuborian science institute can shed some light.

There is a device on my desk that both facilitates communication, and tracks the passage of time. Even now it reveals that the lunch hour draws nigh, though the grumblings of my stomach are no less accurate a measure. I shall leave Kyuboria soon, for a short time only. Consumption of sustenance within Kyuboria is permitted, but the need for external exposure presses, and the return to Kyuboria shall be sweeter for my temporary absence.

Chronicle 2

A full day has passed since last I wrote, and now the chronicle must continue. There are stirrings in Kyuboria, a passioned unrest among the citizenry, at a distressing bit of news. I cannot imagine how scientists of the world manage to embrace novelty as though it were a fanciful ditty. We hear now, and in fact, I have seen evidence in the Global Annals, that cubicle cloning has become a reality. It is said, and truly, that Kyuboria faces no greater peril than its own replication, though that is far off, if the philosophers are to be trusted. My own eyes betray that faith.

Earlier—two passings of an hour, no more—I beheld a proclamation that announced—nay, boasted—of the achievement of a successful cubicle clone. I am distressed, and hesitate to share simple hearsay, but as I said, I did behold this myself at www.clonecubicles.com.

The activities of this center of dastardly experimentation must be thoroughly investigated. The Regent of Kyuboria has been informed, and rumor exists that it was I who tipped him off. I will not deny this, nor will I lay supplication at the foot of calamity.

There is currently a movement afoot to formalize the governance of Kyuboria. That is to say, certain elements recognize the need for a more orderly progression than has historically been the case. I have been asked to head a council of inquiry, the purpose of which shall be to explore a parliamentary approach to the management of Kyuborian affairs. I am atingle at the prospect of participation in such heady affairs, but I fear that the cloning issue shall dominate any sensible discourse.

I learned recently that a parallel council to my own has been authorized. Initially my reaction was mild irritation, then scorn, then a brief period of spasmodic indifference, and finally, once again, mild irritation.

Presently a severe weather advisory is in effect. There is great trepidation that the walls of Kyuboria are not sustainable in the face of such a tempest. The Kyuborian architects remind me of the surrounding brick structure, but I remain unconvinced. The better part of caution demands that I immediately transfer the Kyuborian treasure to the safety of the sub-desk retaining area.

A period of restrained levity prevails, perhaps in nervous anticipation of the advancing storm. The council, my council, requested that we recess until the peril has passed. I declined to answer, instead choosing to hold the initial meeting absent a quorum. This raised quite a stir, and in the end little was accomplished without the support of the others. Just as well, since the paucity of fresh ideas is rivaled only by the state of the budget.

It is perhaps unfair for me to mention the budget, when other matters of gravity more rightfully vie for our attention. But to disregard this issue would be the greater miscalculation, especially in the face of the institutional malaise that increasingly permeates Kyuboria.

Chronicle 3

Unexpectedly, a gayness came upon Kyuboria that momentarily lifted our spirits, as well as some eyebrows. We are not known as an outgoing people, especially in matters of social enterprise, although we have been rumored to revel. The period of lightness passed almost without note, and we again tend to our affairs.

It occurs to us that, aside from the counting of the panels, no serious physical survey of Kyuboria has ever been undertaken. The council has formed a subcommittee to remedy this shortfall. I shall personally take charge, with measurements and drawings to be commissioned upon fund authorization.

A setback. It seems that, lacking a system for monetary accounting, Kyuboria cannot satisfactorily dispense appropriated funds. Worse, in the absence of an actual currency, the founders express skepticism at any kind of fiscal reward at all. None of us foresaw this obstacle, and it is clear that we have much to learn.

This is a matter of grave concern. We now realize that our lack of currency is a hindrance, and wish to remedy this. It was at my urging that the Board of Regents issued a decree authorizing a Board of Governors, whose mission would be to establish a common Kyuborian currency, and to determine fiscal policy. To our shock, we learned that no one in all of Kyuboria possesses the skill, training, or experience to sit on this council. Our attention now must turn to an examination of the Kyuborian system of education, which must certainly lie at the core of this issue.

Our bewilderment had only just blossomed when a runner brought tidings from the outside. An enlightened citizen (perhaps he could help with our education system) noted that Kyuborians who stray from the boundaries of normality become isolated, and in some cases are ostracized as troublemakers. The runner departed immediately upon giving his report, leaving us to deal with yet another aspect of civil discontent.

The gloom of Kyuboria becomes legendary. Though multicolored thumbtacks are used in profusion, it is insufficient to swing the mood. One citizen remarked that visitors to Kyuboria seldom remain beyond a few moments. In some cases this seems appropriate, but sometimes we wonder if our heritage belies inspiration.

Excitement! Though it went unnoticed at first, an Outsider visited without fanfare, dallied no longer than a quarter minute, and placed on the Kyuborian desktop a full half dollar worth of coinage. The actual value of this sum is a matter of significant debate, but the council is of the mind that it will make a good start. We are of a purpose again.

Night fell, and with it our spirits. This is a phenomenon peculiar to Kyuboria, and is thought to be related to normal cycles of physiology. All Kyuborians experience depressed activity levels during sunless hours, yet are uniformly revitalized with the new day.

Chronicle 4

The educational system of Kyuboria is under intense scrutiny. While there are no studies or informed writings to guide us, or to even indicate the general direction we should embark on, a sense of imperative pervades the consciousness of our society. From corner to corner one can sense the desperation, yet it is undirected.

It is a favorite pastime in Kyuboria to note the personal idiosyncrasies of outsiders. This has been described as a shortcoming, but we consider it a natural outgrowth of our curiosity, and think it entirely healthy. The Chronicle shall include notational entries in this regard, though only from time to time. The Kyuborian Minister of Health has cautioned us about the dangers of excessive exhibitions, so we shall strive after thriftiness in our commentary.

I took leave of Kyuboria for the purpose of replenishment over the passing of an hour. Along with three others I visited an establishment whose specialty is unlimited consumption for a single fee. This approach of unitary renumeration may have application in Kyuboria itself. My thought is that we should use our recently acquired coinage as a one-time payment for all services. I shall convene the council (my council) to offer this suggestion at once.

In a prelude to what I fear shall become a distraction, Kyuborian resources are being utilized at increased levels. Just moments ago, usage was requested by a specialist in the number arrangement sector. As an isolated account it would not be bothersome; this was, however, the third such request this day.

A council meeting was scheduled for later today. (Not my council—the competing council). I experienced some momentary trepidation that perhaps this council would usurp my own, but what followed assuaged my concern. The council leadership became entirely distracted with the catering arrangements, and failed to secure space to hold the meeting. In the end, the Kyuborian Horticultural Society had quite a feast.

It had not occurred to me earlier, but the Kyuborian coinage is quite exposed to any manner of underhandedness. I shall inform the Constabulary at once.

The Constabulary received my report, but is wont to take action. I won’t attribute this to laziness, but our enforcers have never been noted for their zeal. Neither are the rest of us.

“I meant ‘no’, I meant ‘no’!” Again and again the plaintiff wail echoes. In Kyuboria we have heard tales of entire volumes being deleted in error. The temptation to mechanically answer ‘yes’ is a powerful urge, we are told.

The council finally met to discuss my coinage idea. I will not classify the event a fiasco, since self-defeating assertions are anathema to the Kyuborian psyche, but few positive elements emerged. Although the validity of my idea is self-evident, consensus is not easily achieved in Kyuboria.

The Chronicle must soon be concluded. In Kyuboria, the fifth day of the week is a time of solemn reflection. Little is accomplished of direct application, and thoughts are directed more appropriately to leisurely pursuits. A meditative state is thought preferable to unrequited exertion.

Chronicle 5

The weekend has passed. Again we joyously embrace Kyuboria, reveling in its four-cornered exuberance. The council is eager to resume deliberations regarding the coinage issue, but a somber realization shall preclude this, I fear. A Junior Overseer, one of the many, has become aggressive in his tracking protocol. In the past this was a harmless pastime, remarkable only in its inefficacy. Now, I think, he means business. It is fortuitous that he lacks skill in closing, but the dance promises surprises.

Just now I concluded a measure of the footprint of Kyuboria. Lacking true measuring equipment, reliance was made upon a putter for length reference. Kyuboria is three and one half putters long, and three and one half putters wide.

Kyuborians expressed curiosity regarding the height of their kingdom. Thus, measurement was taken of this dimension. Kyuboria stands at just under two putter lengths in height. This has caused some consternation. If Kyuboria is less tall than it is wide and long, some wonder, is it truly cubic?

This is a predicament. There is no craftsman in all Kyuboria who could extend our walls fully a putter and a half closer to the great light. Whether Kyuborian matter can even be stacked so high is questionable. It has never been attempted. The coinage matter is all but forgotten in the face of this new crisis. The Kyuborian philosophers have been summoned, and the effort to enhance our governance is to be expedited. We now seem to run in thirty directions at once, yet leave no tracks.

Now that the matter of changing the physical characteristics of Kyuboria is at hand, many have become contemplative. How did Kyuboria come to be, they ask. No one knows. As far as we are aware, it has always been. We have no written or spoken legend in this regard. The philosophers look at each other, and none speaks.

There is one among us who embraces an especially strong outward longing. While the others are content to dwell blissfully ever after in Kyuboria, he continually gazes beyond our hallowed enclosure. What he sees, we are uncertain, and even he cannot articulate his feelings. Others have started to gather around him as he looks uncertainly at—what?

Kyuboria was emptied for a brief period, that the birth of another might be celebrated. In a hall of meeting, many outsiders gathered, partaking of bagled pastries, and exchanging pleasantries. Some offered anecdotes, and laughter was abundant. Return to Kyuboria was effected immediately thereafter.

Sated with pastry and drink, Kyuboria has become sluggard. In an uncharacteristic display of slovenliness, we disregarded dutiful endeavor for a lengthy period. Rhapsodic disenchantment was allowed to flourish, and even now we ache for a semblance of normalcy.

There is Kyuboria, and there is all else. We know of the world beyond, which is to say, we know it exists. Sometimes we wonder, but essentially, Kyuboria fills us. Still, a small group hovers occasionally near the exterior, wondering, perhaps, at the merriment of the Outsiders. Do they look in at us and have similar thoughts?

Kyuboria. Oh, Kyuboria. I shall pen more as time allows.

Chronicle 6

As a distillate of corporate ingenuity, the cloning issue shall undoubtedly resonate. Notwithstanding the obvious concerns of the unindentured, Kyuboria will throw its collective weight against the wind of discontent. The council voted to take this stand in total unanimity, except for one. The lone dissenter is a despicable sort. He frequently takes the opposing view simply to be difficult, and will defend any untoward opinion even in the face of obsequious disregard.

I was away but for a moment. The previous entry was made in my absence, by the referenced dissenter himself. I beg the indulgence of the reader, and promise more stringent security in the future. The Chronicle must be sure, and thus, safe. If we ever succeed in resolving the issue of currency, one of the first matters addressed shall be measures of safety. Kyuborians now dwell, I fear, in a false sheath of wellbeing.

The matter of tutelage vexes us yet. We are insular, approaching, perhaps, the zenith of our seclusion. Peaks are followed by valleys, say the philosophers. This is hardly reason to rejoice, nor is it a calamity of our own making. It is peril, nonetheless.

Tidings well spoken! A universal decree sent by daily messenger alludes to festive undertakings. On the eve of the fifth day there is to be revelry. We are well for it, so spent is the populace by the grind of business. Kyuboria even now hastens to conclude agreement concerning its governance.

The circumference of Kyuboria has been questioned. Not the actual measurement, but whether it exists. As we are not a circular environ, some have questioned the efficacy of such a measure. One heretic suggested rounding our corners. Another offered that Kyuboria is indeed circular, but this was said with a grin.

I shall now stand in my doorway and count to ten. No--seven. Ten is too large a number.

I have changed my mind. I shall remain seated.

Chronicle 7

A misfortune of serious magnitude has befallen Kyuboria. Chronicle 7, an earlier version, was enveloped in a dark shroud, and dismembered. All trace of it was removed, its memory evoked now only in spoken volume. We struggle to embrace its content, but can only say with certainty that it mentioned a day of revelry, to occur on the eve of the fifth day. This is confirmed by history, as there was indeed an outing, well attended, (well--attended), involving discussion and vivacious nuance. It was necessary to engage in spirited intake, to avoid shunning. The effort was well-spent, the mix favorable, with an overall pleasing sensation enjoyed by all. The account of the evening is said to lack continuity, or coherence, in large regard as a result of synaptic lapses. This troubles the Kyuborian medical community, as such a phenomenon has never been witnessed within our walls. We feel that experimentations in this area should be undertaken, to advance our clinical understanding.

I shall now eat a doughnut.

In one day Kyuboria shall be emptied. Tomorrow, as I pen this, a journey lies ahead. We travel to a distant land, where others, many, I suspect, of similar circumstance, shall gather to exchange ideas. The Central Zone can be a forbidding, and foreboding, destination, but we are well for it. There is much to do in preparation, and so little skill to apply. Why do we torment ourselves?

A disinterested recipient sounded a cautionary note, and we should heed. Kyuboria lacks an ordered appearance, and the doughnut weighs heavily. As with much else, we crave action, yet move not. Also, the council which was formed to improve our governance has been disbanded. The currency issue was perplexing beyond solution, so we are now left with coinage, but little else. It has been offered that the time has come for desperate measures. Kyuboria mutters a collective sigh.

Chronicular Terminus