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In a world where everything is perfect and orderly, no one would dare step outside the box they have been allotted. Each and every day has been programmed exactly the same. You wake with an internal alarm clock that sends a jolt of caffeine into your brain when sleep is over. Showering consists of 104 degree water being blasted on your skin until you are pink with cleanliness, then being blown dry and trimmed (hair, facial hair, pubic hair, etc). Your clothes never have to be picked out because you wear the same thing every day; not just the same outfit but the same clothes because every night your home dry-cleans and presses them to perfection. You head off to the job that was predetermined to you when you were born: most supervise machines that perform mundane tasks such as growing food or making clothing, while a few get to supervise them. You take your lunch in the form of an energy pill, then it is straight back to watching your machine. When you get home, your wife has been watching her “stories” all day on the headset. Her day has been much like yours, only instead of watching machines she watches made-up tales about her life. You are both given a dinner of army ration value then sent to bed where you crash like clockwork.

This is the world of 2225, a world where no one has to think for themselves. No need to worry about bills or getting groceries or mundane tasks because machines take care of it for you. Yet, you don’t have to worry about your entertainments, amusements, and fun because that too has been preprogrammed for you. There is no crime, no war, no famine. Everyone is living in peace and harmony. With no worries in life, how could anything be wrong?

A small distance away from civilization, in an abandoned part of town, five young people live, trying to overcome their lack of mental focus and vitality. One man, the ring leader of the group, had come across some old books his machine was destroying… books had been banned years earlier except for government issue manuals. One book had fallen off the conveyor belt, so the man had knelt to pick it up. When he lifted it to his face, the words jumped out at him.

“’Where you born to plague me?’ Galinda said tearfully to her roomie. ‘Did I ask for your association?’
‘Don’t,’ said Boq. ‘Don’t, Miss Galinda, please don’t say another word. You’re upset.’
‘I-wrote-that-letter,’ heaved Pfannee between her gales of laughter. Avaric began to chuckle, and Elphaba’s eyes went wide and a little unfocused.
‘You mean you didn’t write to invite me to visit here?’ said Elphaba to Galinda.
‘Oh, dear no, I did not,’ said Galinda. In her anger she was beginning to regain some control, even though, Boq guessed, damage had been done for good. ‘My darling Miss Elphaba, I wouldn’t have dreamed of exposing you to such thoughtless cruelties as these girls perpetrate on each other and on me for sheer amusement. Besides, you have no place in a setting like this…’”

The man jerked himself back into reality. It was amazing, really; these few short paragraphs struck a chord deep within him that he could not deny. From that day on, he took as many books as he could and read them. With a prize of thirty books, he went and hid himself in the ruins of the Old City to escape the idiocy of what had become reality. He memorized the books, learning them word for word deep in his heart.

It was not long before others joined him, others who had been shaken out of the stupor of day to day life and ran away to the Old City. They were all young, none of them older than 25, yet one stood out. Her piercing gaze and paranoia spoke of her failed attempts to flee forever. She had been captured and forced to return at least six times. She convinced everyone that their only chance for true survival is to delve deep into the Old City, to places no one has seen in decades. There they find a small group of others who have managed to survive thus far.

In this place art, music, literature, and dance are the recipe of the day. Each person is able to express their emotions no matter how absurd or violent they might be, and those emotions are to be respected. Everyone shares what they have and no one is more powerful than the others. Ten people living apart from the rest of the ruined world, trying to get along well enough. Can it be done?