Published: 2025-08-29

In 2072, noise pollution reached unimaginable new levels; the government started cracking down on it by implementing stricter laws and new regulations, but they were difficult to enforce. That’s when scientist Joseph A. Brown proposed his theory of short-term continued silence. Doctor Brown believed that if the country could stay silent for a relatively short period of time, let’s say twenty-four hours, the positive effects would compensate for a year of noise pollution. A law declaring October 1st as National Silent Day was passed in 2076.

Noise pollution levels were reduced by 72% during the first Silent Day, but a large part of the population failed to comply with the instructions given. The instructions were the following:

1) Talking is not allowed
2) Playing music is not allowed
3) Talking on the phone is not allowed
4) Sounding your vehicle’s horn is not allowed
5) The usage of electric home appliances is discouraged

Large sound meters were installed across the country and the Anti Noise Unit Squad (A.N.U.S) was created to apprehend and punish offenders; as a result, noise pollution levels were reduced by 98% by the year 2081. That remaining %2 represented the resistance.

11:07 PM. August 28, 2082.

Somewhere in New Town, a van drove into a back alley; the driver flashed his lights three times, and a group of men and women came out of the darkness. A young woman approached the driver, “Do you have them?” She said. The driver held a finger in front of his mouth and didn’t say anything; he got out of the van and opened the rear doors; it was loaded with boxes. “I’ll start with one hundred. If everything goes as planned, we may need more.” She said. “Name.” The driver said. The woman stood there, without saying anything. The driver closed the van doors. “You know how my boss works. No name, no sale.” He said. The group started to surround the van. “Back off, guys, I’ll handle this.” She said. The driver gave her a piece of paper and a pen; she wrote her name on it. She crumpled the paper into a ball and said, “You know my name, and so do your colleagues.” He looked at her, uncrumpled the paper, and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about… Rita Sánchez.” They stared at each other for a moment, then Rita signaled to their group, and they started to unload the boxes. The van left.

“They’re A.N.U.S, Rita.” A man said.
“I know, Roger. We didn’t have any other choice.”

The men and women, carrying boxes on their shoulders, disappeared into the darkness.

07:00 AM. August 29, 2082.

A horn sounded in an old warehouse, and everyone jumped out of bed.

“Attention!” Roger said.

Everyone stood with a straight back, their eyes looking upwards from where Roger spoke.

“Let’s all hear a few words from our leader, Rita!” Roger said.

Everyone cheered. Rita stood in the middle of the platform, looked down, and the cheering stopped.

“Forgotten citizens, soon it will be ten years since the theory of short-term continued silence was accepted as fact, and our lives changed forever. Year after year, entire families are thrown in jail because a mother could not stop her kids from crying. People living on the outskirts lose their jobs because they cannot drive to work. We starve because they take our voices, leaving us unable to even beg on the streets. All this while they have parties in their soundproofed rooms, which they built with the money second-class citizens like you and me are taxed with. I say we've had enough of their tyranny. They have taken enough already; it’s time for us to take back what belongs to us.”

The crowd cheered once again. Rita raised both her hands, and the crowd stopped.

“Last night we took another step in the direction of our freedom; we acquired one hundred megaphones, and we are going to ruin the tenth anniversary of this farce. We have one month; let’s prepare for battle. They will not crush the 2%.”

The crowd's cheers became a chant in unison, “Rita! Rita! Rita!” Rita raised her fist before turning her back to the crowd.

“Rita, if those megaphones come from A.N.U.S., they’re probably tapped.” Roger said.
“It’s probably GPS; they must have a transmitting chip.”
“If that’s the case, they will be on their way any minute now. We have to get out of here.”
“No, they won’t. They want to stop us in action. Can I count on you?”
“For anything.”
“I want you to remove the GPS. We’ll dump the chips and leave this place. Let them come if they want; they won’t find anything.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Thank you, Roger. For everything you do for the resistance.”

Roger took care of the megaphones, and soon the resistance abandoned the warehouse. They planned to disrupt Silent Day from the outskirts; one group would be led by a member with a megaphone, followed by other members; a second group will watch from the roofs and follow the marching crowd with their eyes, if A.N.U.S. is dispatched, they will fire a signal; If the signal is fired, a third group will throw rocks at A.N.U.S. A retreat plan is in place if things go sour. After Silent Day, they will be branded as extremists by the government, and as heroes by the people.

09:00 PM, September 30, 2082. Silent Day Eve.

Rita stood on the platform for a last speech before the strike.

“Forgotten citizens, the time has finally arrived. We have been stepped on by big brother’s boot for the last time; tomorrow we make our voices heard, not for ourselves, but for the future generations, for our kids, our husbands and wives who are rotting in jails, and for the ones that are not with us anymore. Tomorrow, we speak up!”

The crowd cheered. Some were assaulted by tears and laughter. They hugged and kissed each other; they were not only part of the resistance, they were family.

Roger sat in a corner, silent. Rita approached him.

“Everything comes down to this.” She said.
“I know.”
“You better get some sleep. I’ll stand guard.”
“No. They will need you to lead them tomorrow; you should sleep.”
“OK, Roger, just try to get some rest. Tomorrow, they will know about us.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Goodnight, Roger.”
“Goodnight, Rita.”

Rita went to sleep, while Roger stood guard.

12:01 AM, October 1, 2082. Silent Day.

Thirty A.N.U.S agents entered the warehouse; other thirty surrounded the place, and twenty stood in the roof. The leader asked for Rita to be brought to him.

“You.” Rita said.

The man held a finger in front of his mouth.

Roger, wearing an A.N.U.S. uniform, walked to the man and gave him a piece of paper. Rita looked at him, and her jaw dropped open. “This is outrageous!” The man said. Roger held a finger in front of his mouth.

THE END.