Free Unlocked: An Oral History of Haden’s Syndrome by John Scalzi

and ignorant Hadens, Hadens of every creed, color, gender, sexual and political orientation, age and previous health status. In the United States, at least, the Haden community was a mirror of society at large.
    And because of that there were some immediate schisms in the Haden community, even as it was realizing it
was
a community. One of the largest schisms, and one that remains to this day, was the one between the Hadens who spent most of their time in the physical world, through personal transports and daily interaction with non-Haden family and friends, and the ones whose lives were inward facing into the new world that the Hadens had started to create, through the Agora and other spaces and social structures that they’d established.
    That schism was partially but not entirely predicated on age, and other factors played into it as well, like how strong the Haden’s physical world support structure was, as well as certain personality markers. Hadens who were naturally introverted were slightly more likely to spend more of their time facing inward to the Haden community.
    The number of Hadens who were entirely one way or another was small, of course, but the general division was real, and had a substantial impact on how the community as a whole began to define itself.
    Terrell Wales:
    The other thing to consider is that after a while the physical world just becomes depressing. Look, in the online Haden space, I have what you could call a house—it’s a permanent chunk of a server that I own. I’m able to build and create there.
    So my house is a log cabin in about six square miles of virtual Vermont forest. Even when I first got the server space the technology was good enough that you could walk right up to the trees and you could see all this detail, and all the other sensory data could be piped in. You could have every day be peak foliage season if you want to. I did that for about a year once. A creek runs out by my cabin, and I see deer and foxes walk by. It’s all gorgeous. And it’s all mine. And maybe it’s not real, in the sense that it physically exists in the world, but you know what? I sit on my porch and look out into the woods and it feels real enough. I’m home.
    And then I have to come back into the physical world. And first off, I have this bloated, pale body that doesn’t move. Food comes in by a tube and then a few hours later goes out in a tube. The body—my body,
me
—sits in room piled up with medical equipment and charging chair for my threep. I share an apartment with three other Hadens, with a spare room for our caregiver. It’s the world’s most depressing bachelor pad. And then I go out in my threep, and I never quite forget that I look like a piece of CGI in an old science fiction movie.
    I mean, you tell me. Which would you rather spend time in? That log cabin in Vermont, or the crappy apartment stuffed with dudes in tubes? Is this even a question?
    Irving Bennett:
    I filed a number of stories about the Haden community before we hired Tanna Hughey, who was a Haden herself and could report from the inside, as it were. In the early days, when I would give talks about covering the community, the parallel I would give people to describe Hadens was the deaf community. The deaf community is largely invisible to people who aren’t in it, but on the inside it has a very strong sense of identity that’s informed by the one thing they have in common: their deafness.
    But within that community there have always been factions. Those who wanted their children educated in sign language versus those who wanted their children educated in English. Those who saw the benefit of cochlear implants versus those who saw them as a threat to the cohesiveness of the community. Those who wanted to spend their time in the larger culture, and those who felt it was more important to help the deaf community develop its own unique culture.
    The Haden community was very much the same way—with its own unique