Untitled, part one.

by somnambulist

Posted to Stories on 2003-09-07 09:01:00

Quixotic
He knew it was not going to be much longer before they arranged for his death. Staring around at the dimly lit underground warehouse, he could see the group of men in pinstripe suits moving toward him. They had found out what he had been doing during overtime. He did not love his job as they had assumed. He did not buy into their bullshit about productivity. It was naive of him to think that he could actually change things from the inside. They noticed the new models had begun exhibiting emotions. They would easily dispose of him; there were plenty of engineers. He had no excuses; the serial numbers would prove that he was at fault. He would not deny it. He would take it like a man. He was a man. He had more integrity and humanity then anyone in the ministry. With this in mind, he could die with pride. Unless his sentence was worse then death. He could not worry about that now. The red eyes had reached him. It would not be much longer.
Anatomy of Monotony
At 5 am the fluorescent lights flooded the cold white room of apartment 222. The naked woman lying beneath the starched sheets woke reflexively. Swinging her feet to meet concrete, she stood and asserted the time on the digital clock. The buzz of the lights reverberated off the austere walls. The woman opened the door of the room’s only closet and removed one of the many hanging uniforms. The dress was simple; knee-length, sleeveless, with one long zipper running down the middle. The durable stretch fabric clung to the Aryan curves of the woman. She placed her feet in a pair of black leather boots, and zipped them up as well. A pillbox, glass of water, and card were situated on the small, linear table next to the mattress. She opened the compartment labeled MONDAY and swallowed half the capsules. The woman then took the card and exited the room. She swiped the card in a lock that recorded her punctuality and guarded her space. The efficiency of the dual-purpose card was to be commended.
Other residents of the building were exiting their rooms as well. They proceeded to the steel elevators in the middle of the hall. Eight persons entered the elevator at a time. This was the most efficacious capacity level. Eventually all the residents reached the ground level and directed themselves towards the nearest transportation terminal with routes to their assigned workplaces. For the woman of apartment 222, this was the Skyrail. A row of escalators brought commuters to the Skyrail entrance above the tall buildings. The woman entered one of the aerodynamic silver trains that resembled bullets shooting across the city. She looked down at the grey carpet of the train as she rode; the sunrise and urban horizon passing by quickly. Exactly 10 minutes later, the woman arrived at the Ministry of Popular Enlightenment.
The woman swiped her card in the lock that opened her office’s door. Beyond the door was a desk built into the wall. Cables and wires ran neatly up the walls. A switchboard and microphone were centered on the desk. The woman sat in the ergonomic chair by the desk and pushed a button next to a tube that ran from the ceiling. Collated papers slid down the tube and the ON AIR sign above the desk illuminated. The woman flipped a switch that turned on her microphone. In a perky, well articulated voice she read from the transcript that arrived in the tube:

Good morning comrades. I am very pleased to inform you that productivity rates have more than doubled. Consumption and production are at a perfect equilibrium that continues to thrive. Every day our industries and engineers are finding more efficient methodologies that have given us this prosperity. Let us keep this in mind as we work together for our motherland. Please retain this radio frequency throughout your day. Enjoy the musical programming that will follow this transmission.
The woman flipped another switch and a synthesized orchestra began to play softly. During her workday, the woman read other news; broadcasted government approved advertisement, and played the music listed on the instructions that came to her in the tube. After a news story had been read, she would stamp it and then send the paper down the laundry-shoot style receptacle on the opposing side of her office. At 8 O’clock that night, she turned off all the equipment in the office. She traversed to her apartment in the reverse of the morning route. She used her card to enter apartment 222.
The woman removed her clothing and hung it neatly in the closet. She set her card down on the desk and consumed the other half of the capsules in the pillbox marked MONDAY. She laid down in bed, shut her eyes and at exactly 8:30, the lights in the little white room turned themselves off.

At 5 am the fluorescent lights flooded the cold white room of apartment 222. The naked woman lying beneath the starched sheets woke reflexively. Swinging her feet to meet concrete, she stood and asserted the time on the digital clock. The buzz of the lights reverberated off the austere walls. The woman opened the door of the room’s only closet and removed one of the many hanging uniforms. The dress was simple; knee-length, sleeveless, with one long zipper running down the middle. The durable stretch fabric clung to the Aryan curves of the woman. She placed her feet in a pair of black leather boots, and zipped them up as well. A pillbox, glass of water, and card were situated on the small, linear table next to the mattress. She opened the compartment labeled TUESDAY and swallowed half the capsules. The woman then took the card and exited the room. She swiped the card in a lock that recorded her punctuality and guarded her space. The efficiency of the dual purpose card was to be commended.
Other resident’s of the building were exiting their rooms as well. They proceeded to the steel elevators in the middle of the hall. Eight persons entered the elevator at a time. This was the most efficacious capacity level. Eventually all the resident’s reached the ground level and directed themselves towards the nearest transportation terminal with routes to their assigned workplaces. For the woman of apartment 222, this was the Skyrail. A row of escalators brought commuters to the Skyrail entrance above the tall buildings. The woman entered one of the aerodynamic silver trains that resembled bullets shooting across the city. She looked down at the grey carpet of the train as she rode; the sunrise and urban horizon passing by quickly. Exactly 10 minutes later, the woman arrived at the Ministry of Popular Enlightenment.
The woman swiped her card in the lock that opened her office’s door. Beyond the door was a desk built into the wall. Cables and wires ran neatly up the walls. A switchboard and microphone were centered on the desk. The woman sat in the ergonomic chair by the desk and pushed a button next to a tube that ran from the ceiling. Collated papers slid down the tube and the ON AIR sign above the desk illuminated. The woman flipped a switch that turned on her microphone. In a perky, well articulated voice she read from the transcript that arrived in the tube:

Good morning comrades. I am very pleased to inform you that productivity rates have more than doubled. Consumption and production are at a high volume equilibrium that continues to thrive. Every day our industries and engineers are finding more efficient methodologies that have given us this prosperity. Let us keep this in mind as we work together for our motherland. Please retain this radio frequency throughout your day. Enjoy the musical programming that will follow this transmission.
The woman flipped another switch and a synthesized orchestra began to play softly. During her workday, the woman read other news; broadcasted government approved advertisement, and played the music listed on the instructions that came to her in the tube. After a news story had been read, she would stamp it and then send the paper down the laundry-shoot style receptacle on the opposing side of her office. At 8 O’clock she turned off all the equipment in the office. She traversed to her apartment in the reverse of the morning route. She used her card to enter apartment 222.
The woman removed her clothing and hung it neatly in the closet. She set her card down on the desk and consumed the other half of the capsules in the pillbox marked TUESDAY. She laid down in bed, shut her eyes and at exactly 8:30, the lights in the little white room turned themselves off.
At 5 am the fluorescent lights flooded the cold white room of apartment 222. The naked woman lying beneath the starched sheets woke reflexively. Swinging her feet to meet concrete, she stood and asserted the time on the digital clock. The buzz of the lights reverberated off the austere walls. The woman opened the door of the room’s only closet and removed one of the many hanging uniforms. The dress was simple; knee-length, sleeveless, with one long zipper running down the middle. The durable stretch fabric clung to the Aryan curves of the woman. She placed her feet in a pair of black leather boots, and zipped them up as well. A pillbox, glass of water, and card were situated on the small, linear table next to the mattress. She opened the compartment labeled WEDNESDAY and swallowed half the capsules. The woman then took the card and exited the room. She swiped the card in a lock that recorded her punctuality and guarded her space. The efficiency of the dual purpose card was to be commended.
Other resident’s of the building were exiting their rooms as well. They proceeded to the steel elevators in the middle of the hall. Eight persons entered the elevator at a time. This was the most efficacious capacity level. Eventually all the resident’s reached the ground level and directed themselves towards the nearest transportation terminal with routes to their assigned workplaces. For the woman of apartment 222, this was the Skyrail. A row of escalators brought commuters to the Skyrail entrance above the tall buildings. The woman entered one of the aerodynamic silver trains that resembled bullets shooting across the city. She looked down at the grey carpet of the train as she rode; the sunrise and urban horizon passing by quickly. Exactly 10 minutes later, the woman arrived at the Ministry of Popular Enlightenment.
The woman swiped her card in the lock that opened her office’s door. Beyond the door was a desk built into the wall. Cables and wires ran neatly up the walls. A switchboard and microphone were centered on the desk. The woman sat in the ergonomic chair by the desk and pushed a button next to a tube that ran from the ceiling. Collated papers slid down the tube and the ON AIR sign above the desk illuminated. The woman flipped a switch that turned on her microphone. In a perky, well articulated voice she read from the transcript that arrived in the tube:

Good morning comrades. I am very pleased to inform you that productivity rates have more than doubled. Consumption and production are at a high volume equilibrium that continues to thrive. Every day our industries and engineers are finding more efficient methodologies that have given us this prosperity. Let us keep this in mind as we work together for our motherland. Please retain this radio frequency throughout your day. Enjoy the musical programming that will follow this transmission.

The woman flipped another switch and a synthesized orchestra began to play softly. During her workday, the woman read other news; broadcasted government approved advertisement, and played the music listed on the instructions that came to her in the tube. After a news story had been read, she would stamp it and then send the paper down the laundry-shoot style receptacle on the opposing side of her office. At 8 O’clock she turned off all the equipment in the office. She traversed to her apartment in the reverse of the morning route. She used her card to enter apartment 222.
The woman removed her clothing and hung it neatly in the closet. She set her card down on the desk and consumed the other half of the capsules in the pillbox marked WEDNESDAY. She laid down in bed, shut her eyes and at exactly 8:30, the lights in the little white room turned themselves off.
At 5 am the fluorescent lights flooded the cold white room of apartment 222. The naked woman lying beneath the starched sheets woke reflexively. Swinging her feet to meet concrete, she stood and asserted the time on the digital clock. The buzz of the lights reverberated off the austere walls. The woman opened the door of the room’s only closet and removed one of the many hanging uniforms. The dress was simple; knee-length, sleeveless, with one long zipper running down the middle. The durable stretch fabric clung to the Aryan curves of the woman. She placed her feet in a pair of black leather boots, and zipped them up as well. A pillbox, glass of water, and card were situated on the small, linear table next to the mattress. She opened the compartment labeled THURSDAY and swallowed half the capsules. The woman then took the card and exited the room. She swiped the card in a lock that recorded her punctuality and guarded her space. The efficiency of the dual purpose card was to be commended.
Other resident’s of the building were exiting their rooms as well. They proceeded to the steel elevators in the middle of the hall. Eight persons entered the elevator at a time. This was the most efficacious capacity level. Eventually all the resident’s reached the ground level and directed themselves towards the nearest transportation terminal with routes to their assigned workplaces. For the woman of apartment 222, this was the Skyrail. A row of escalators brought commuters to the Skyrail entrance above the tall buildings. The woman entered one of the aerodynamic silver trains that resembled bullets shooting across the city. She looked down at the grey carpet of the train as she rode; the sunrise and urban horizon passing by quickly. Exactly 10 minutes later, the woman arrived at the Ministry of Popular Enlightenment.
The woman swiped her card in the lock that opened her office’s door. Beyond the door was a desk built into the wall. Cables and wires ran neatly up the walls. A switchboard and microphone were centered on the desk. The woman sat in the ergonomic chair by the desk and pushed a button next to a tube that ran from the ceiling. Collated papers slid down the tube and the ON AIR sign above the desk illuminated. The woman flipped a switch that turned on her microphone. In a perky, well articulated voice she read from the transcript that arrived in the tube:

Good morning comrades. I am very pleased to inform you that productivity rates have more than doubled. Consumption and production are at a high volume equilibrium that continues to thrive. Every day our industries and engineers are finding more efficient methodologies that have given us this prosperity. Let us keep this in mind as we work together for our motherland. Please retain this radio frequency throughout your day. Enjoy the musical programming that will follow this transmission.
The woman flipped another switch and a synthesized orchestra began to play softly. During her workday, the woman read other news; broadcasted government approved advertisement, and played the music listed on the instructions that came to her in the tube. After a news story had been read, she would stamp it and then send the paper down the laundry-shoot style receptacle on the opposing side of her office. At 8 O’clock she turned off all the equipment in the office. She traversed to her apartment in the reverse of the morning route. She used her card to enter apartment 222.
The woman removed her clothing and hung it neatly in the closet. She set her card down on the desk and consumed the other half of the capsules in the pillbox marked THURSDAY. She laid down in bed, shut her eyes and at exactly 8:30, the lights in the little white room turned themselves off.
Friday, end of the weak days.
At 5 am the fluorescent lights flooded the cold white room of apartment 222. The naked woman lying beneath the starched sheets woke reflexively. Swinging her feet to meet concrete, she stood and asserted the time on the digital clock. The buzz of the lights reverberated off the austere walls. The woman opened the door of the room’s only closet and removed one of the many hanging uniforms. The dress was simple; knee-length, sleeveless, with one long zipper running down the middle. The durable stretch fabric clung to the Aryan curves of the woman. She placed her feet in a pair of black leather boots, and zipped them up as well. A pillbox, glass of water, and card were situated on the small, linear table next to the mattress. She opened the compartment labeled FRIDAY and swallowed half the capsules. The woman then took the card and exited the room. She swiped the card in a lock that recorded her punctuality and guarded her space. The efficiency of the dual purpose card was to be commended.
Other resident’s of the building were exiting their rooms as well. They proceeded to the steel elevators in the middle of the hall. Eight persons entered the elevator at a time. This was the most efficacious capacity level. Eventually all the resident’s reached the ground level and directed themselves towards the nearest transportation terminal with routes to their assigned workplaces. For the woman of apartment 222, this was the Skyrail. A row of escalators brought commuters to the Skyrail entrance above the tall buildings. The woman entered one of the aerodynamic silver trains that resembled bullets shooting across the city. She looked down at the grey carpet of the train as she rode; the sunrise and urban horizon passing by quickly. Exactly 10 minutes later, the woman arrived at the Ministry of Popular Enlightenment.
The woman swiped her card in the lock that opened her office’s door. Beyond the door was a desk built into the wall. Cables and wires ran neatly up the walls. A switchboard and microphone were centered on the desk. The woman sat in the ergonomic chair by the desk and pushed a button next to a tube that ran from the ceiling. Collated papers slid down the tube and the ON AIR sign above the desk illuminated. The woman flipped a switch that turned on her microphone. In a perky, well articulated voice she read from the transcript that arrived in the tube:

Good morning comrades. I am very pleased to inform you that productivity rates have more than doubled. Consumption and production are at a high volume equilibrium that continues to thrive. Every day our industries and engineers are finding more efficient methodologies that have given us this prosperity. Let us keep this in mind as we work together for our motherland. Please retain this radio frequency throughout your day. Enjoy the musical programming that will follow this transmission.
The woman flipped another switch and a synthesized orchestra began to play softly. During her workday, the woman read other news; broadcasted government approved advertisement, and played the music listed on the instructions that came to her in the tube. After a news story had been read, she would stamp it and then send the paper down the laundry-shoot style receptacle on the opposing side of her office. At 8 O’clock she turned off all the equipment in the office. She traversed to her apartment in the reverse of the morning route.
Upon exiting the elevator, the woman immediately noted an abnormality. The halls of the apartment complex were empty, albeit an unusual man standing in front of her door. The woman did not move, but evaluated the situation. The man was very dirty, his clothes tattered, black hair long and messy over his eyes. He looked very nervous. He shoved a sheet of paper under the door of apartment 222 and then approached the woman. “Do you want to know the truth?” he whispered in her ear. It was at that moment that the elevator doors began to open. The enigmatic man took off running around the corner. Eight residents departed from the elevator and stared at the woman as they headed toward their apartment doors. She knew it was against protocol to simply loiter in a hallway. She quickly entered her apartment and locked the door behind her. She picked up the piece of paper the odd man had left under her door. She read the curious sentence written on it.

Until they become conscious, they will not rebel, and its not until after they have rebelled that they can become conscious-Orwell

It only confused her more. She wanted very much to dispose of this abnormality and put the event behind her. She quickly got in bed and shut her eyes tightly. In the morning she would shred the paper and inform security of the intruder. She needed her 8 and a half hours of rest for optimal performance.

Sleeping Faster
Still asleep, the woman began to see things. A very weak image appeared in her mind. It was fuzzy and cutting in and out like a malfunctioning television. The blurred picture eventually stabilized and she could make out a group of persons huddled around various computer monitors. The technology looked ancient and they were all dressed in the same manner of the gentlemen who had been standing in front her door. These sorts obviously knew nothing of production and consumption. The basic principles would never have allowed for the wearing of such shabby, old clothes. “We’ve got one,” said a male excitedly. “Sector A- 00222 to be exact,” he continued. The man speaking seemed to be looking directly at her. “I have something to tell you Mary.”
No one had referred to her by her given name in a very long time. There wasn’t a need for nomenclature when everyone was a part of the greater community. She was not Mary. She was a member of the greatest civilization in the history of the world. The superfluous labeling irked her, and she would have preferred being called “comrade.” He began to speak again:
“ You have been lied to every day of your life. Your news broadcasts are lies. Your life is in fact, a lie. You are more than a routine. You have the capacity to think and feel. You choose not to. They’re not telling you how close we are to a coup. They know they’re in trouble. We have members on the inside. We’re gaining power. You have the power to help us.”A woman watching a monitor turned to the speaker and said “ There is still a lot of the drug in her system, we cannot keep the signal for much longer. She’s going to be re-entering a NREM cycle.” It was then that image abruptly ended and all was dark again; in her room and in her mind.
The woman woke many hours later. Her light had been on and buzzing since five o’clock that morning. The digital clock showed that it was already nine. She had never been late in her life. She rushed to get dressed and left her apartment quickly. She was the only person on the Skyrail. It was Saturday, and she did not have work. Saturday was leisure day, when citizens would volunteer at various organizations around their cities. The woman decided she would visit the Department for the regulation of Health and Sanity before she began her volunteer duties.
Frontier Psychology
“Visions?” asked the psychologist behind the chrome desk in an incredulous tone. “Yes” replied Mary, “it was like nothing I had ever experienced before. As I laid down to sleep, it was like seeing things with my eyes closed, inside my mind. What’s wrong with me?” The psychologist adjusted her glasses while examining the semantics of what she was about to say. “You forgot to take your pill last night didn’t you,” she said in the tone of a disappointed mother. Mary slowly nodded with shame. “There are reasons why are leader gives you these supplements. Before the revolution, citizens were idle and inefficient even in sleep. They called the visions you have described “dreams”. For hours, they would waste brain capacity and energy on filling their minds with surreal, impractical thoughts that distracted them from work and purpose. The body only really needs rest. It does not need childish fantasy.” The psychologist looked Mary up and down and observed the scared, attentive look on her face. “Just remember to do as you are told and you will not have problems with this in the future.” A wave of relief swept over Mary’s face. With gratitude and disbelief, she asked the psychologist “So they will stop? I don’t need to be reformed?”
“No comrade, no need for such things. But your country thanks you for your honesty and concern.” Mary again expressed her gratitude for the psychologist’s grace and reassuring words. As she left the office, they waved and stated in unison “May your day be an industrious one.”
Rather than waste time and natural resources involved in transportation, Mary decided to do her volunteering at the Department for the regulation of Health and Sanity. She disrobed and entered the cleansing chamber, where she was misted with antibacterial materials and detoxified. She then put on a nurse’s uniform and gloves and proceeded to the information desk. The surgeons needed extra help that day. The administrator at the desk pressed a button on Mary’s forearm and inserted a plug into the socket beneath the skin. To insure the file transferred properly, the administrator asked Mary a question about surgical procedure, which Mary answered correctly.
On the operation room table, Mary saw a very unusual man. He was short, with brown eyes, mousy brown hair, and glasses. His defective vision should have been fixed by the ministry at birth, or he should have been disposed of. He lacked define muscles and he was not clean shaven. Mary wondered what sort of man this was. He was obviously a criminal or dissenting citizen. Why would the ministry waste their energies on a delinquent such as this? All of the doctors and nurses who entered the room glared at the man with the same disdainful look. Mary then remembered her vision. Was he one of them? She suddenly wanted to ask him many questions. She wanted to shake him out of his anesthetic stupor and make him tell her what they had been talking about. But she did not. That would have been against protocol. She would not let these visions interfere with her work. Yet the desire remained. She placidly passed the doctor the drill and knew that this man would no longer be a threat to society. She wasn’t sure if this filled her with appropriate amounts of contentment.
That night, Mary hesitated before taking the pills. She had missed her morning supplements and could not take them all at once. When she shut her eyes that night, the television static entered her mind again. She was going to have another vision, yet she did not mind. She wanted to know more. The day’s events had made her understand the value of knowledge.
Comprehension
The picture in her mind was clearer than the night before. It seemed as if she was sitting in a moviehaus. The man who had spoken to her the night before was sitting next to her. “You have a right to know,” he said, as the lights dimmed and the film reel began to play. Fragments of very old news stories, poor quality footage, and pictures began to appear on the screen. Then the narrators voice came on:
In response to the popularization of biological warfare, the United States government had to come up with a way to eliminate problems associated with the human body, such as disease, mortality, overpopulation, etcetera. Developers found that robots and computers alone were not efficient enough for military purposes. The human brain though, is an organic super computer, and when combined with synthetic human parts, creates the most productive unit known to man. This new technology was paired with conditioning that enabled the government to create extremely industrious cyborgs. And so the dehumanization of the military began.

Clinics. Lacerations. Metal. Blood. Bombs. Wires. Smiles. Power. Success.

Eventually, the corporation that had funded and founded the cyborgs technology integrated it into their own offices at Microsoft. Production rates dramatically increased, stock value soared, and envious capitalists wanted a part of this new economic action. Slowly and quietly, the dehumanization spread across the US and to a global level. During this time, it was inevitable that some people would discover what was happening. Many were killed off by the government. Others resisted and went into hiding. Eventually these people united into a rebel group, active in restoring humanity to the world.
The Catholic church was also deeply opposed to the whole situation, but the government paid them off and gave them a good deal of political freedom and land. Ultimately, it removed the church’s wealth and power. They’ve been greedily fighting to restore their former glory ever since. Presently the population of the world has been dehumanized, leaving their brains as one of the few organic parts of the body.
The brain is more effective and physical labor is no longer strenuous. Productivity has increased and the world is running very smoothly and efficiently. Without real thought and human interaction, work becomes the main priority. There is no creativity, just production and consumption. The only true humans left are top government officials, tech support, and the rebel groups.

Stock quotes. Brief cases. Currency. Machinery. Crucifixes. Assembly lines.

The world had also undergone Americanization. English became the official language, religion is politically incorrect, only the hardest workers can thrive, and the Aryan ideal of beauty was the model for engineers. The world wasn’t always covered with dark skyscrapers, mirrored buildings, smoggy factories or sterile work places. Now everything is run by the suits. There’s no beauty left. It wasn’t always paradise before, but it was close.

The voice stopped, but the images continued. Mary could barely believe what she saw. Giant snow covered mountains, lush tropical forests, beaches, canyons, fields of flowers, clear blue skies, and sunlight filled her vision. There were paintings and opera and theatre, and sculptures. Small children were playing together in grassy parks. And then the strangest thing happened. Drops of water filled her eyes, and fell across her synthetic skin. And then it was all gone. It was 5 am and time for work. Mary dried her eyes and carried on with her daily routine.

Epistle
After turning off all of the equipment in her office at the end of the day, Mary noticed a letter had just arrived through the tube. She opened it and read:

Now you know. Take the Skyrail to sector Q-058. We will be waiting for you.

Slightly nervous, she did as she was instructed. She did not know what awaited her at Sector-058. The ministry could have found out about her communications with these rebel groups. Mary tried to be optimistic and assume that it was the rebels themselves who sent the letter. But upon arrival, she realized that neither awaited her. A looming, gothic cathedral stood in front of her. A small man in a robe was talking on a cell phone at the exit. He saw her and immediately put the phone away. “Welcome, my child. God has missed you.”
The church was dark and filled with statues of weeping Madonnas, pictures of unsmiling saints, red candles, and a dying Jesus nailed to a cross. An empty collection plate was collecting dust in the corner. The man led Mary to the center of the church, blessed her with holy water and sat her in a pew. Nervously he asked her “Do you know why you are here.” Mary told him that she was instructed to come. He shook his head. “God has called you here. You do not know him, but you will. You are probably scared right now. You have just heard one perspective of what life was like before the revolution. It contradicts everything you have ever been told. You are probably feeling insecure and worried. With faith in God, you will never have to worry. He will look out for you and protect you. All we ask is that you believe. You have the ability to help us. We need to spread our message. You can do that for us.”






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