“Some of that,” he said.
“Then I’m all ears.”
Chavez began, and before long, a crowd of
villagers from surrounding dwellings gathered around quietly to
hear him.
Late at night, after everyone had gone for
the evening, U2258 entered the building. It was not illegal for him
to be here, but it would be considered highly suspicious for how
late it was. He entered the elevator and then took a horizontal
transport before arriving at the hallway that led to the
experimental division.
He could not get out of his head what had
happened with the signal and the man who supposedly was receiving
it. Something was wrong and they weren’t telling him. That made him
suspicious and angry. For U2258, anger wasn’t something that
exploded out of him, but a simmering, bubbling syrup that burned
and found odd cracks that seeped out of him.
Using his keycard again, he entered the
laboratory where the experiment had been done, and there in the
half darkness, only lit by the electrical lights from a panel of
consoles, and sitting in exactly the same position where he had
left him, was their patient and test subject.
At first U2258 expected him to talk, to say
something or sound an alarm, but there was no sound from him.
Still, U2258 moved slowly, methodically, hoping to go unnoticed.
Anyway, he had every right to be here, but why wake up the
subject?
He sat himself quietly at the console he had
used earlier that day and typed into the routines from that
morning. It took him only a moment to find the recorded feeds. They
were displayed as a set of squiggly lines on the screen, but the
feed the subject had not acknowledged was the lowest set of lines
on the screen.
But this was a representation of the feeds,
not the feeds themselves. In order to get to those, he would have
to break into a part of the system that was not open to him. That
was where things might get dicey. If they found that he had broken
into the feed production itself, questions could come up. This was
not his area of study and he had no place working with the feeds.
Losing his job was what it would boil down to, so he had to be
careful. Very careful.
If there was anything about U2258 that could
be said of him, it was that he was careful, even to a fault. But he
was also good at his job and he knew much more than what was
required in his field of study. Within a few minutes of dodging
security traps and sorting through lines of programming code, he
found the source, and a way to broadcast it so that it would be
audible in the room, just as the subject would hear it. Eventually,
he had heard, they planned to stream video as well.
He started the process, and what he heard
sounded like nonsense phrases. Soon, however, he realized the
phrases had common themes. “Technology is the way of the future.
Technology will make your life better. If you want to live free,
live close to technology. Your chip will save you. Your chip will
give you power over your enemies, the knowledge of the ages…”
It went on and on like this and then repeated
again and again. It was like it was trying to win an argument. And
then it all came together in U2258’s head. The reason the man had
not acknowledged the message was because it was under his conscious
mind. It was a subconscious message. They were brainwashing
him!
The shock hit him and even his methodical
mind was jolted for a second. He looked, but the man had not
stirred, and U2258 wanted to keep it that way. Feelings of fear
came over him as he began to cover his tracks, erasing any evidence
that might show he had been here. Once he was confident he had done
his best, he backed out of the room quietly and walked down the
hallway.
He was almost to the elevator when he heard
the hum of an electric motor. Someone was already on their way up.
He found the doorway to the emergency stairs and stepped just
inside.
“If you want to ask me, it’s these
experiments they run,” came a low grinding voice from just outside
the door.
“They told us it was unavoidable,” said
another voice, almost as low. “The man knew what he was getting
into.” He could hear the voices fading and footsteps grew faint as
they moved away from him down the hallway.
“But a body,” said the first man again,
loudly this time. “Why do we have to dispose of a body?” It sounded
as if they stopped walking for a moment.
“Just do your job and we’ll be covered.”
Through a narrow window in the door, U2258
saw them enter the room he had just left. The one with the test
subject. He wondered if he should try to escape or hide or stay and
watch. He decided he was in a safe enough place and that if they
left, it would likely need to be through the elevator.
The door opened and both men walked out,
carrying something heavy between the two of them. It was the body
of the test subject.
The sun came up bright the next morning
through the narrow window over the dining table, and H662 felt as
though the night before had never even happened. His foreman would
surely pull himself together today. He had always been a rock. A
man to depend on.
H662 ate his nutritional supplements and some
juice concentrate and headed out. His wife would awake in another
half hour to leave for her work. She was a good worker, a good
wife. She was also tasked with taking their daughter to daycare
before work. He hadn’t had a chance to see her last night, but
perhaps tonight he would. It was important for a girl to see her
dada at least every once in a while, wasn’t it?
That morning, he inspected his pod while it
drove him to work. This was one of those older models. H662 knew a
trick about them. If a man knew enough about pod construction, this
one had override chip capability. If something should go wrong in
the program, and if danger was ahead, a smart engineer could
override the chip and go to manual, using a series of buttons to
drive. That idea was obsolete now since there had not been an
accident in many years. It was an old piece of technology, slowly
phasing out, and few but he could have done it in the first
place.
Once the pod dropped him off, he entered his
workplace with a spring in his step. He had allowed himself an
extra hour’s sleep this morning since the night before had been so
long and since he had had the added responsibilities from his
foreman for a day. He didn’t know how the man did it. It was a lot
to oversee.
He was glad to get back to work. The morning
seemed fresh and hopeful. He attacked his work with vigor, focusing
on what was before him. The thoughts of yesterday were gone and now
he could concentrate on what mattered: the work.
It was odd no longer having the competition
of the foreman’s son. It was always good to have a little healthy
competition.
H662 had worked a couple of hours before he
realized he had not seen his foreman. Surely they would have let
him come back. It was only a momentary lapse for the man. They
wouldn’t get rid of him for that, would they? He decided to check
on him.
He knocked on the door, but no one said
anything. He tried to open it and it opened easily. There was a
stench that first met his nostrils. He tried to figure out what it
was, but then he saw it. His foreman sat behind the desk, papers
and broken pictures still on the floor. And clearly he hadn’t
sterilized himself that morning because he smelled horrible.
Bottles were stationed all over the desk. “Come’on in.” He said it
all slurred together. “I’m jus’ta picture o’ prod...productivity
today.”
“Sir,” said H662. “What are you doing?”
“I’m gettin’on wi’ life. So my son died. I’m
not suppos’d t’care about that am I?”
H662 didn’t know what to do. He was flashing
back to the feelings he had tried to hold back all day yesterday
and they made him feel uncomfortable.
“I mean it’s all ‘bout the comp’ny.
Right?”
H662 shook his head. That is what they had
always been taught.
“Right!” Then, to his surprise, his foreman
picked up one of the bottles and threw it hard at him, but missed
him. It thudded against the wall. Unsatisfied with that, the
foreman picked up another bottle and stood to throw it, this time
shattering the bottle against the edge of the door.
“Sir!” yelled H662.
“We’re not suppos’d t’care. Right?” He
grabbed another bottle, but this time H662 ducked out the doorway
as a bottle came flying through, over his head, and shattered on
the cement floor.
Another supervisor passed by H662 and entered
the room and the conversation could be heard outside. H662 just
stood there watching as if he were in a dream.
“What are you doing?” he asked
“If you can’t understan’, then it’s not worth
explainin’!” yelled his foreman in the other room.
“Sir, I understand you’re upset about
yesterday. But really, it’s not the end of the world.”
“Isn’t it? Isn’t it the end of the
world?”
The door at the far end of building opened
and in walked one of the divisional managers. H662 didn’t know him,
but had seen him at some important meetings. He outranked everyone
in the room and he walked with a grim purpose, face devoid of
emotion, and behind him walked two guards dressed in shiny black
protective uniforms. They headed across the length of the factory
floor and into the office, leaving the door open. H662 could see
them through the door now.
“What’s wrong with you people,” said his
foreman again. “Can’ a guy ‘ave a bad day for a change?”
“Sir,” said the divisional manager. “You will
have to come with me.”
“Well, what if I don’t wanna.”
“Sir, you are being part of the problem.”
“Am I?” asked the boss. “Am I part of the
problem?” His voice no longer sounded mad, but serious, and with
such force that H662 could not help but wonder at it. The guards
took him each by one arm and escorted him from the room. Again his
foreman said, almost pleading for an answer, “Am I? Am I really
part o’ the problem?”
They escorted him from the building and
everything grew quiet again. The other workers went back to their
stations as if nothing had happened. But H662 could not get those
words out of his head. “Am I? Am I really part of the problem?” For
the rest of the day he thought about that question as he quietly
worked at his station.
U1472 was just wrapping it up at her work. It
had been a very ordinary day. Boring, really, but at least she was
doing her duty. She turned off her communications station and stood
to leave when a hand touched her shoulder. “U1472, do you want a
ride home?” It was D1298. When he leaned over, she saw that he had
red highlights in his brown hair, which only the light revealed. “I
live just down the street, and we could share the same pod.” He had
been all business last night at the meeting, but now he seemed
somehow changed. More personable.
She considered his offer for a moment and
decided there could be little harm in it. “Sure.”
They took the elevator down to the bottom
floor together and D1298 acted as a gentleman. He asked her how her
day went, and talked about his day. When they got to the ground
floor, he summoned the pod himself and let her in first. U1472 was
taken aback by this side of D1298. She had only known him as a
supervisor, and he was a good one. But she remembered the way he
had made a pass at her, which shocked her. Now here was a whole new
side of him and she liked this side.
“So I was just saying to Y1416 that we really
should make those headsets more comfortable. You know the one you
wear every day? How do they feel to you?”
“Not bad for the first two hours or so, but
after that they become unbearable. Often my left ear turns quite
red and sore by the end of the day.”
“My point exactly. They’re the same ones we
all have to wear, but you most of all. How about if we get you a
new set. I’ll work on getting everyone a new set before long. It’ll
make the work easier to deal with.”
“Thank you,” she said. She liked this man
more and more. He was watching out for her. He really did make a
good boss.
“I live at the building just before yours, so
I’ll just get out with you and walk home. Anyway, it’s dark and I’d
hate for you to walk in the dark.”
“Th-thank you,” she said. Should she tell him
no? Was this crossing the line? But it was dark, and she thought
there was no harm in him walking her home.
The night air was cool, and she could even
see a few stars through the city smog--a nice night for a walk. Too
bad they were only walking across the parking lot to her house.
When they reached the door to her apartment, she pulled out her key
card and unlocked the door. He immediately opened it for her. “I
guess you’ll be fine now,” he said. “It was nice to have someone to
talk to about my day. Have a good night and I’ll see you in the
morning.” He let go of the door and let it close behind her and she
realized she was looking forward to seeing him again in the
morning.
She was halfway to her apartment before she
froze, shook her head, and then laughed. She had forgotten to pick
up her daughter. She walked back to the street and called another
pod.
As she was on her way to get T-5529, her mind
wandered. She thought of what D1298 had said. He liked having
someone to talk to. Did she have someone to talk to? No, not
really. By the time her husband got home, she was done with her day
and ready for bed or asleep. But he was just being a good citizen,
wasn’t he? Wasn’t that a right priority to have? Or was there
something more?
U2258 lay in his bed that night and
methodically ran through the events of the evening. He learned two
things tonight, and they both spoke very badly for the company.
First, he had learned that when feeds were sent to the new chip, in
the very first experiment with this new technology, they had sent
an additional feed as a subliminal message, spurring the hearer to
more loyalty to the city and technology as a savior. U2258 did not
like the idea of men controlling men. It did not seem right.