Echo’s Love

Daniel awoke as he did every morning, to the tune of a song generated by an algorithm-based radio program on his cell phone. As he ate his breakfast, he scrolled through the news stories of the day, Tuesday, April 14th 2037. The news consisted mostly of predictions of stock prices and some interesting crimes that had been committed. He put on his work-assigned outfit and went downstairs to meet his transportation.

The city had created a system of public transportation automated vehicles in the previous decade. The car was simply a sedan with a large computer mechanism in the front and comfortable seating in the rear. The car picked up on Daniel’s previously assigned settings and knew to head to his place of work, a manufacturing company specializing in the creation of industrial level carts and metal safety cabinets for the holding and transportation of hazardous materials. Upon arriving, the optimized travel system of the building that allowed for multiple escalator and elevator paths quickly brought him to the 19th floor, where he proceeded to unit 1907, an office made of false walls where Daniel spent his workday. Between the units is an amount of empty space significant enough to house the needed wires and supports to fully power and connect all the unit’s devices, as well as dampen the sound between the units so that the worker may do as he pleases within his unit without disturbing other units.

Daniel’s computer was the center of all his work. When he arrived each day, a system has taken the needed work for the day and assigned it evenly among the different units. An instant message informed him of his tasks, as well as a review of his previous work so he knew he was doing said work correctly. The unit was also outfitted with a phone, printer, wireless connectivity module, and an analog method of communication through a pneumatic tube system where physical paper could be sucked into the vacuum and distributed. Both the phone and the tube were barely ever used. Almost all communication was through the computer’s text based message system and the majority of it was generated by a computer. For sake of ease, all messages sent through the system to someone who is not in the exact same department as the sender are processed to optimize the impetus of the message and remove any personality of the message that may be received as inappropriate or confusing. This allowed the employee to fully express themselves with as much offensive or inappropriate content as they liked, as anything unnecessary would be removed anyway. Messages to peers would not be processed, but with the automated work distribution there was little reason to send peers messages.

Daniel’s actual job at the company was somewhat difficult to grasp. When he had applied for the job several years before, he had simply found it on one of the employment search engines as “Office work, $19 an hour”. The application process was waiting thirty seconds for his résumé to be processed by the automated data collector and then a ten-minute mock session of work. When he completed the mock session, he was informed that he was hired and that he needed to report to the office on Monday. Upon arriving, he was assigned unit 1907 and given his weekly schedule. The work that was distributed to him was generally putting raw numbers into an organized and searchable spreadsheet. For sake of ease, he was never told the meanings of the numbers or what was done with the spreadsheets.

At the end of his workday, Daniel’s phone informed him that it was time to leave and he left his unit and proceeded to the automated travel lanes. The building was automatically notified that Daniel had left, and clocked him out. He decided that he did not feel like cooking tonight, so he used his phone to change the destination of the vehicle to take him to a local mall. The vehicle dropped him off at the entrance to the mall and he proceeded to activate the augmented reality display in his glasses. Daniel disliked using the display at work, as his workplace used a font of a lower quality that appeared jagged on his newer display, but he enjoyed it in his leisure time as a simple way to browse the latest happenings of the internet. Daniel kept a small subsection of his vision connected to his stream of websites while he walked to his restaurant of choice. Some people around him had completely abandoned the responsibility of walking, and instead fully activated their displays, leaving them almost no visibility of what was ahead. They were escorted around on automated motorized platforms that took them to their destination without harming those around them. Daniel saw this as a crass way to escort oneself as it made almost no acknowledgement of the foot traffic around, weaving between people and cutting them off at each step.

The restaurant that Daniel chose was a favorite of his. He approached the tablet to place his order, happy that there was no line. He selected the items he wanted, and billed them to his personal bank, all through the ordering tablet. He then waited at the dispensary while his order was fetched and brought out on the simple conveyer belt system. Daniel sat at an available table and activated the reading program on his display so that he could continue his book while he ate. When he was finished with his meal, he disposed of his trash and proceeded back to the automated travel lanes. He arrived back at his apartment complex and rode the old-style elevator up to his floor and entered his domicile. He sat down and changed his viewing from his display to his television, to continue streaming the show he had been watching for the past week.

Daniel’s apartment resembled a catalog image. In truth, he had not changed it much from when he first moved in. He had put his books on the shelves, his personal computer on the desk and his video game console beneath the television. He had no posters or pictures to hang up. His interests changed rather quickly, even his favorite movies and television shows fading out of his appreciation for months at a time, so he was never capable of settling on a poster to hang up. Daniel did have a great appreciation of his favorite band, which was perhaps the only thing he had held on to for more than a year at a time. He had at one point hung up a vinyl record from the band that he had found at a specialty shop, but he thought that the lone frame among the blank walls looked strange and resolved to find more things to hang up before putting it back up. That pursuit had also been abandoned. He had never bothered moving the furniture around, in his mind it was already in the most practical place it could be.

A system in the temples of his glasses allowed for simple vibrations to transfer into the bones in his head producing sound that only he could hear. A tone specifically designated to play when Daniel’s friend Matthew has sent a message played with an accompanying visual notification confirming the message.

“Hey there. How’s wage slavery?” the message said.

“Better than sponging off mommy and daddy, jackass.” Daniel had always thought there was something poetic about having a device that could give you messages only you could see, alerting you with tones only you could hear, that you responded to by talking out loud. “Actually, I’d say leeching is more appropriate now. Are you ever gonna finish school?”

“The credits are adding up… slowly. Mind if I come over? I’m bored.”

Daniel gave an affirmative symbol with his display. About thirty minutes later Matthew was at his doorstep.

“Whatcha watchin’?”

“Old cartoons.”

“Ya know what goes great with old cartoons?” Daniel smirked at Matthew, knowing exactly what he meant.

Daniel had always admired Matthew’s aptitude for gardening, since they were kids and the teachers had forced them to grow lima beans as a responsibility exercise and Matthew’s had grown faster and healthier than any of the others. Daniel had never had much luck helping things grow, his lima bean had proved this to him by promptly dying. Of course, now Matthew was growing marijuana in his apartment, but the green thumb still showed. Matthew’s pot was the best anyone had ever had and Daniel felt in this moment more like he was orbiting the room than in it.

“They say this stuff is supposed to make you more creative.”

“When have you ever been creative, Dan?”

“I was pretty creative when I asked Missy Harmon to the prom.”

“Ya mean when ya spray-painted the words big enough on the street she could read it from the top floor? I had to talk her out of telling the cops it was you who did it.”

“I thought you didn’t know Missy. Why’d she listen to you?”

“We were in the program together.” Daniel sat up and looked incredulously at Matthew.

“Program? How high are you?”

“Oh man, I forgot I never told ya ‘bout the program.”

“What program?”

“Here, turn on the news, it’ll help me explain.” Daniel obliged and flipped on CNN. They were discussing the Ethan Rodger murders. “’Member him?”

“Some nut who killed a few people before we were old enough to care.”

“Kinda weird how they talk about it every year when it seemed so minor, right?”

“I guess. The news is usually droning on about some bullshit.”

“See, Ethan Rodger didn’t just kill people. It was everything that happened before he killed people that mattered. Rodger graduated school early and didn’t have many friends ‘cause of how quick he got through it. He got an automaton job, like yours, and just went through his life going to work and talking to Mom and Dad. ‘Cept one day, Mom and Dad have an accident. They die. Rodger keeps going. Nobody to talk to. And I don’t just mean a friend to listen. I mean anyone. Think about it, you have a job where all you talk to is a machine, you go to the store and check out with a machine, you watch your screen instead of the world around you.”

“What’s this have to do with killing people?”

“That’s just it. After the murders, the cops looked into Rodger’s life. They determined that he hadn’t spoken to or been spoken to by another human being in over two months. They call it Automated Loneliness. You got a thousand people within arm’s reach and they’re all a million miles away. The government realized that this isn’t a rogue case. It’s just a guy ahead of the game. The world only gets more automated. We need a way of protecting people. So, they create these centers, Sociable Children Centers. Parents let their kids go there to learn about friendliness and how to reach out to outsider kids and the parents get a fat government stipend.”

“Wait, you mean the government has a program that turns kids into government-assigned friends?”

“Yeah, I guess you could look at it that way. Kinda sensational-”

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Is that why we’re friends?” Daniel was beginning to get upset.

“We’re friends because we’ve hung out together for 8 years.” Matthew was getting more serious to match Daniel’s tone.

“But when we first started hanging out, was that because the government told you that you should?”

“The group therapist said it would be a good idea to approach you, yeah. But aren’t you glad he did? You’re my best friend!”

“Forgive me if that’s just a bit cheapened considering a government program to keep me from becoming a serial killer told you to do it.”

“That is not what the program is for. It is an acceptance program to breed goodwill and harmony so that no one suffers like Ethan Rodger did.” Matthew was talking in complete words now. His accent had dropped. Daniel had always thought it interesting that Matthew did that when he got serious. He was now realizing that this was most likely a technique taught at the program to foster proper communication. Daniel was unsure if it was the intoxicating effect of the cannabis or his own imagination that was morphing his view of his friend into a robot with a stars-and-stripes paint job.

“Have there been times when you wanted to stop hanging out but they told you that you should stick it out?”

“I don’t know. It would have been years ago. Even if they did, it was a good thing”

“Oh man, I’m freaking out.”

“Dude, just chill.” Matthew helped Daniel calm down and Daniel passed out on his couch. When he woke up, Matthew was gone. He had left some of the marijuana and a note saying that he’d be ready when Daniel had his brain together. Unfortunately, the now sober brain of Daniel did not accept the idea any better than the intoxicated one had.

How could his best friend not tell him this?

He sat at the keyboard on his desk and activated the display in his glasses. He went to a popular conspiracy board on a site dedicated to random anonymous postings. He wrote out a long description of what Matthew had told him. He then proceeded to ask if others knew of people brainwashed by this program. He waited a bit and refreshed the page. His thread was gone. He had a message from the website moderator:

This isn’t a conspiracy. It’s not talked about much, but it’s public knowledge. Easy to find if you want to look for it. If you have any evidence the program is anything other than Summer-school and extracurriculars for kids on how to be good people, message us and we’ll put a new thread up. Otherwise, we have real things to discuss.

Daniel had not focused very hard on anything beyond “This isn’t a conspiracy”. No sentence could quicker cement the notion that something was, in fact, a conspiracy. He should have figured they would not let him talk about it. Matthew said there was a center. There could be hundreds of kids like Matthew. In fact, Daniel extrapolated, if the program was designed to produce kids that were friendly, there would have to be centers all around the country.

How deep does this go?

Well, if proof is what he needed, he would have to interrogate Matthew more. Daniel began planning. He opened up note-taking documents on his display and dictated what to put on them as he paced around his apartment, cross referencing the centers with search engines. All the internet would tell him is that the schools always accepted new applications and where the schools were located. A person and their child could tour the school, but Daniel had no way of acquiring a child. He had to bank on the idea that Matthew would tell him everything he needed to know. He kept adding more and more notes about what to say. Matthew was a government trained conversationalist after all, he’d be able to spin the conversation away in a million different ways. Daniel could not escape the feeling that there was something he was forgetting. A question or line of questions he had wanted to ask Matthew about but had been distracted by the marijuana.

A chime interrupted his line of thought. His device was informing him that if he was awake much longer, he wouldn’t get the amount of sleep he had set in his schedule to get. At first, he wanted to bat away the notification and continue his work. Instead, he gave in to the pop-up, knowing that he would need all his rest for tomorrow and his upcoming intellectual battle.

That night, Daniel dreamed. He again saw the robot, a featureless and blank humanoid shape. Though every piece of it could be named a body part none of them actually resembled one. Its head was just an oblong shape, its chest a barrel that pulled in at the middle. Its limbs were tubes with screwed-in joints. All over it was that sickening pattern of stars and stripes, a pattern that only meant as much as the faith of the person holding it. On this homunculus, it was as good as a camouflage, hiding the nature of the beast behind the steel-reinforced word ‘patriotism’.

The robot was at the head of a classroom. Not any classroom Daniel had ever been in, a classroom like the ones on television. A green chalkboard at the front with nothing written on it but the title of the lesson. Personal sized false-wood desks that could open on a hinge to hold pencils and pens. A globe and an apple on the robot teacher’s desk. The alphabet listed above the chalkboard, amongst a dozen motivational posters on the walls. The title of the lesson was “Being a ‘Good Citizen’”, the sinister quotes around the phrase denoting that it was a title rather than a descriptor.

Daniel could not tell what the children were saying when they responded, only that they did so in unison as though the answers were scripted and repeated often instead of based in a thought. As they spoke, their eyes grew wider and the children began to lose their features. Their individuality melted away as Daniel’s invisible eyes could do nothing but watch as the children became gray blobs, like a child-made clay effigy.

The robot teacher went out into his crowd of students and went up to the first blob in the row. The robot’s arm became an electric saw and began to force its way throw the child-blob’s forehead. The sound of grinding bone pierced through the room as blood poured down the blob. The blob-children had no reaction. Finally, the top of the blob-child’s head was fully sawed-off. The robot-teacher threw the literal skull cap away and began removing the brain. It was inefficient, ripping it out bit by bloody gray bit. It finished its procedure by placing a graduation cap over the empty head of the student and then worked the clay of the boy’s face into an unnaturally huge smile. As the robot moved on to the next student, the clay of the empty-headed graduate began to regain its human look. It was Matthew, still sporting the incised smile the teacher had forced into him.

Daniel woke up with a jolt, instantly making sure his skull was still whole. He continued to scroll information about the Sociable Children Centers, now with the determination one gets after a terrible scare. He looked for anything he could that used the word exposé. Most of what was available was teacher reviews, just like you would find for a normal school. Mrs. So-and-so didn’t teach my child properly or Mr. Anyman was a delight to talk to. The occasional mention of how great the centers really are and how much they helped the children. Daniel felt like he was in some fascist hellhole. Everyone raved about these centers. He realized it must have been the money. Fucking capitalism, he thought. If they took your kids and re-educated them for free there would be outrage. But they offer you a quick buck to let them do it and it’s rainbows and butterflies. Sickening.

Daniel’s display chimed at him. It was time for him to go to work. Daniel groaned, realizing that his research had distracted him from all his morning duties, including his breakfast. Daniel threw his clothes on sloppily and went down to his transportation. As he settled down into his unit, Daniel began to think about how little different parts of his routine really mattered. He had not showered or shaved, brushed his teeth, or fixed up his clothes but no one was there to notice. No one was there to be offended. He found himself lost in the contemplation of why he did those things everyday anyway.

He was pulled from this thought by a notification on his computer screen. An upper-level employee asked him for details on a specific file that was sent to him. The language was safe, neutrally worded, and without personality. Daniel was unsure if this was the computer algorithm or the standard manager-speak. The note neglected to say where it was actually from. Daniel wrote his reply:

Hey Fuckwit,

I have no goddamn idea what you’re talking about. If you ever paid any attention to your dumbass job, you’d know all the files are scrubbed of identifying data. If you lost something, it’s your own fault.

The Guy Whose Time You Wasted

The computer pinged and showed him the message that was sent:

2106,

According to the Employee handbook and Computational Information System, all data sent through the internal work order system has its identifying data removed before processing by an employee. If you wish to inquire about a file that originated from your workstation, please go through the Computational Information System. Have a nice day.

1907

The computer also informed him that if any of the meaning of the processed information was inaccurate, he should call the recipient using the in-unit phone and explain. The mention of the phone caused Daniel to look over at his actual in-unit phone and blow on it to remove some of the dust that had settled on it from disuse. Daniel could never actually think of a time when he had used the phone. He was honestly surprised that in his years at the company his position had never been automated. It was true that the work he did required a level of comprehension, as the notes on how the numbers should be fused or divided as they entered the records was written in plain English, but surely one day of training for the creators of these documents would teach them a system that the computer could interpret. He had always suspected that the human element was because no IT department in the world would tolerate the fixes and continual upkeep that automation of his job would carry. Instead, fools like him could be hired from the street and replaced as needed.

Fools like him.

That is what I am, he thought. A fool with a job that needs no training. With a best friend that was assigned to me by the government. The Ethan Rodger murders had been in the 20s, who knows how long before the government controls which parents you have. Which games are played on the playground. What trades you get to make in the cafeteria. What gets to be special about you. That thought struck him. People are unique. It is a variable that cannot be controlled. Surely his friend remembered his uniqueness, before the robot sawed open his head and carved in the smile. He began to develop a plan, a plan to remind Matthew of who he was and who he can be again. He was going to save Matthew.

The day went by slowly, as days always do when the things you are doing are just a checklist before you get to what you really want. The motivation forces you to work faster as though the completion of the goals will let you get there faster. But work is measured in hours not tasks, so the speed increase just leaves you more bored than you started. A desire sat in the back of Daniel’s head. These thoughts of gray blobs, and the lack of any work left to do, made him question his own individuality. He sat there, in his company clothes, in his blank booth, with his mass-produced products, and the back of his mind burned with a desire to strike back against the forces of his life. He wanted to show the gray blobs with the terrible smiles what a true human looked like. He turned on the speakers of his computer, they cracked as though they were shaking off the dirt and grime of stagnation. He turned on his favorite music, a band he had loved since he was a child, that all the kids he knew had loved and had won awards consistently as the years had gone on. He began dancing, in an awkward way that can only be done in private because anyone who sees it would think it was a joke and laugh uncontrollably. That was not enough to satisfy him, however, as it did not attract enough of the attention of those around him. He pretended to drum on the walls of his unit, after a while just bashing against them with no regard for a beat or timing. He sang along at a thunderous volume that had little regard for tone or inflection. After an hour or so, he grew tired and sat down, content with his miniature rebellion against the blobs, instead looking at pictures on the internet to satiate his boredom.

Of course, if Daniel had actually thought about his actions, he may have remembered that all the units are soundproof, hence the need for the phones. He may have also remembered that he had never actually met any of his co-workers that resided on the same floor as him, only knowing they exist because they left at the same time as him. He was so preoccupied with his plan to save Matthew that he never even thought about why none of his co-workers commented on his dancing hour.

He got in the public transport and had it make a quick stop at a local video game store. He quickly purchased a game he knew Matthew had wanted and knew that Matthew had yet to buy. He then instructed the car to take him to Matthew’s apartment. He walked up to Matthew’s door and instructed his display to call Matthew.

“Dan? I forgot this thing even is a phone. Who calls people anymore?”

“Open your door, I have a surprise” Matthew came to the door and glanced slightly before opening it all the way. It was obvious by his fluffy pants and bed-head hairstyle that he had woken up very recently. “I wanted to come by and apologize. I flipped out on you and I shouldn’t have.”

“That’s great, Dan. I accept ‘n all, but this is a shit surprise.”

“How about this?” Daniel held up the still-wrapped video game box.

“Ya glorious golden bastard, get in here and fire that fucker up.” This reaction was expected. The hours spent playing the game had been a part of Daniel’s plan. This section of the plan was designed to make Matthew remember his friendship with Daniel, to lure Matthew into a sense of security so that it would be easier to break through his training at the brainwashing facilities.

Daniel occasionally looked around the room, examining the apartment he had seen so many times with new lenses over his eyes. Matthew’s apartment had been empty when he moved in. Daniel had gone furniture shopping with him, though Daniel had not given any opinions on anything that was bought. He was more there to entertain Matthew between all the parts that actually mattered. Matthew had bought a giant leather L-shaped couch and a nice leather recliner with massage functions. He had bought a gigantic television with the highest resolution and framerate possible. He bought almost a hundred frames to hang all his different posters and albums and things on the wall. He had then gone and repainted the whole apartment so it would match the furniture he had bought without worrying about such a thing. The apartment was expertly assembled, as Matthew’s mother had been an interior designer and Matthew had spent much time around his parents. The apartment reflected this close relationship with its numerous pictures of Matthew’s parents (he was an only child and his grandparents had passed away before his birth). Daniel had never quite understood Matthew’s relationship with his parents; Daniel had always thought of his as nothing more than legal guardians that he mostly dropped contact with after age 20. Daniel began to wonder how many of these interests were genuine and how many were fabrications of the SCC.

“I’m glad you came by Dan. See, the reason I brought up the SCCs the other day was because I have finally figured out what I am going to do with my life.” The words flowed out, enunciated fully and with an actor’s care. This was Matthew’s serious tone, where he did away with his accent and focused on not just what he was saying but also the listener’s full comprehension. Daniel now hated this voice, believing it to be a manufactured tone taught to him by the Stars-and-Stripes Robot.

“What do you mean, Matt?”

“Do you remember what I was actually getting my degree in?”

“I remember you used to want to be an actor. Back when we were kids you always talked about it.” Part two of the plan, use old information to reawaken the Matthew that had existed before the SCC.

“Wow, that’s a blast from the past. You’re a little off though. I wanted to be a movie star. Every kid wants to be a movie star. It’s ‘cause ya think it’s professionally bein’ rich and going to parties. None of those kids think about what acting actually is. But no, I am not getting my degree in theater. I’m gettin’ it in Psychology. And the reason why I chose it is because I applied with the SCC to be a teacher. I had a great life because of the SCC and I wanna give other kids that life.”

“Why tell me about it? Want me to join you?” Daniel did his best to contain his reaction to the words that had just been said.

“No, I’m not trying to convince you to abandon your Comp-Sci degree. I’m telling you because you’re my friend and just like you talk about your job all the time, I figure I’m gonna want to talk about mine. I mean c’mon it’s gonna be me and a bunch of kids. I’m gonna have days where I wanna roll heads.”

“You had never talked about wanting to be a teacher before. I thought you were getting your degree to be a therapist.” In his mind, Daniel was screaming at the top of his lungs. But, he had no idea what was being screamed or at who. Just that the screaming was necessary.

“I had thought about it. To be honest a teacher isn’t what I want to be.” Daniel began to give a questioning look. “I want to open my own SCC. The government is always looking to expand the program and there aren’t many who stick with it for life. An alumnus of the program that has tenor as a teacher in the SCCs will have an easy time getting approved as head of a new center.” A scene swam in Daniel’s head. He once again returned to that classroom of gray blobs. He saw the same robot-teacher body, but it’s once featureless head had been replaced by a severed and rotting head of Matthew, impaled on the pole of metal the robot had in place of a neck. The head was old enough that it was almost impossible to tell it was Matthew. The shrunken and greenish flesh nearly falling off the skull in cracked flakes with little bits of dried blood. But, it was Daniel’s imagination and he knew what decapitation results he was looking at.

“That’s insane” Daniel said the words without thinking.

“What is?” Matthew looked puzzled and mildly hurt. Scared in the way only a human can truly be, scared of the disapproval of others.

“That… That you actually have a goal in your life.” Daniel forced a smile. The smile appeared slowly on Matthew’s face, before he burst out laughing. Matthew then hugged Daniel.

“Knew you’d love it. Just wait, pretty soon there’s gonna be all these little people I get to judge and show you their stupid mistakes and foibles.” Matthew was practically jumping he was so excited.

“Alright, alright, calm yourself. You actually have to finish school first.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Listen, I have to get back to my place. Have to get some sleep before I go in tomorrow, I’ve really been shirking.”

“Sounds good. Get home safe. Thanks for coming over.” Daniel left the apartment, infuriated and depressed. He felt like he should have realized that the SCC had been too powerful of an influence on Matthew. He thought back to Matthew’s words, “The group therapist said it would be a good idea to approach you.” That meant Daniel had never known the real Matthew. Just the molded gray blob-child that the SCC had created to be his friend. It was as he thought back to that conversation, he remembered another detail. The thing he had forgotten in the haze of smoke and betrayal.

Missy.

Daniel killed the thoughts of saving Matthew. This reminder combined with his previous failure made it seem unnecessary. He thought back to Missy, the girl he had known for such a short time in his high school days. Daniel had felt something for her the moment he met her in eighth grade. Daniel had no idea what love at first sight was but the moment he heard her voice he knew he had an idea. It was not special or musical, but something about it pinged his ears in just the right way. He wanted to listen to her talk all the time. He had greatly enjoyed that first day of English Literature class, though the next day he was transferred to a different period. He had told Matthew about her right away, and always stole a glance at her whenever he could.

Missy Harmon had met Daniel in their sophomore year of high school when they were assigned to the same Geometry class. She had had no memory of that time in eighth grade, most likely because Daniel had said nothing the entire period, including not noticing when she said something to him, because he was too busy listening to her voice. Daniel had been quick to talk to her when the class was over but failed at making conversation. He just kept trying to get her to say more about herself and she began to feel uneasy. They had made small talk on occasion for a few months until Daniel finally managed to get her phone number so he could message her. Daniel often overthought his responses and very often assumed a late response was a sign of discontent. He had a habit of asking if she wanted to continue talking to him.

Come senior year, Daniel decided to ask Missy to prom as soon as Matthew had asked his date. Daniel however found himself lacking the courage to attempt any of the traditional methods. Daniel also greatly feared Missy’s previous boyfriend, whose given name was Ian but went as ‘Dutch’. Dutch was the biggest man on the football team at the school and, despite never having actually bullied Daniel, Daniel considered him so. Dutch was quick to point out when Daniel was being ‘autistic’ around the other students. Matthew and his friend on the football team, Adam, were always quick to chastise Dutch for being an ass, though the incidents were almost always followed by Matthew attempting to teach Daniel about the incident in hopes it would not happen again. Daniel also noticed that Adam would talk to Dutch in the same manner. On the fateful day of the spray painting, Matthew had brought whiskey and scotch over to Daniel’s while his parents were away and convinced him to do anything that would constitute an actual request for Missy to go to the prom with Daniel. Daniel had chosen a non-confrontational method and, unknown to Daniel, Matthew had had to sneak over to Missy’s hours later to explain why “PROM?” was written in car-sized letters below.

In the end, she had agreed and they went to prom together. She helped him through the dances, he paid for dinner, and a good time was had. They had ended up kissing but she had interrupted that to explain that she was uncomfortable having sex with anyone at that point. The mere mention of sex had caused Daniel to clam up, which mostly brought the night to a halt. In truth, Daniel would not have ever inquired about sex as he was uncomfortable attempting anything of such social complexity. The next day she sent him a message that they should just be friends. Daniel chalked it up to being a win.

The idea that that night had been just a ruse created by the stars-and-stripes robot to make him into a cooperative citizen took him to a new level of anger. He suddenly realized why it had gone down that way. She was just a government friend. She never wanted to go anywhere with him. But he was the outcast they were supposed to save. But it had been more than Matthew and Missy. Daniel now knew why Adam was friends with Matthew, why Adam and Matthew had lectured Dutch and Daniel about etiquette. They were in the program together. They had to be. Adam was their all-American posterchild. Peak physical condition, popular, quarterback of the football team, always in a relationship. He was this neo Hitler youth’s Übermensch. It was time to get another perspective on this matter, time to approach Adam.

The next day at his job, Daniel looked at the alumni page of his high school and found Adam’s number. He contacted him in a way he thought of as nonchalant:

“Hey Adam, it’s Dan from high school. Matt mentioned that you were in the SCC with him. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the concept but I don’t want to freak Matt out by asking him a million questions. Think we could get some coffee or something and I could interview you as a neutral party?”

The reply came quickly:

“Hey Dan, long time no see. Surprised Matt told you about all that, guess it’s because of his plan. Sure, let’s get coffee.”

They spoke back and forth about a good time and place and finally settled. Daniel spent his day practicing his questions to make sure he was sounding natural, and that Adam wouldn’t suspect his goals.

The coffee shop was a relic of a simpler time. A time when the internet was limited by location and people sat in one location just to use it. Now it was a faster place, people getting their coffee and leaving. The only people sitting were those who were there for the quiet atmosphere to read or lightly discuss things. Daniel ordered a drink that was mostly chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and cookies and cream bits. It contained maybe a small percentage of coffee somewhere. Adam entered the shop, still the hulking image of a man who worked out regularly. Daniel found this somewhat odd as, if he remembered correctly, Adam had gotten a scholarship for his e-sports abilities. It made sense however, the program must have convinced him to make a regimen of it.

“Hello, Daniel”

“Hello, Adam. You look fantastic for a man who sits on his ass all day.” Adam laughed heartily.

“Yeah, my dad went to college on a CS: GO scholarship and was a twig. Promised myself I’d never let the games consume me like that. Plus, I think the boxing training helps my reflexes.”

“Well, I won’t waste your time. I just have some questions about the SCC. Matt seems so happy to want to run one, and I barely understand what they’re there for.”

“Don’t worry, tons of people feel that way. It’s not an easy thing to sum up. I think if it was, it would have been implemented decades ago. Are your questions about what we did or how it worked or what?”

“No, Matthew mostly covered that. I’m more curious about how the two of you were so different. Wouldn’t a program like that make the kids a bit… samey?”

“Well, there’s different sections of it. Matt was in a peer to peer development setup. That means he was taught how to mediate conflicts and help people get along. I was in a section about life management. They taught me how to get schoolwork done while having lots of hobbies and being able to be my own person. My way just put me with more people than Matt. Matt always cared about getting to the deeper sides of people. I just wanted to have lots of friends.”

“Were there any other people at our school in the program?”

“Hmm… maybe a few. There were, what, like eight or nine hundred at our high school? Probably like two or so more.”

“Interesting…” Daniel began formulating a plan to get him to bring up Missy.

“Oh, I remember one. Missy. Remember her? I used to tell her all the time while we were at the SCC to drop Dutch. He was such a fuckwit, and those lover girls never had to end a relationship.”

“Lover girls?” Daniel shook mildly, with worry and rage over what those loaded words could mean.

“Oh, dammit, sorry. Not many people I talk about this with who don’t know the lingo. Missy was in a section for teen girls that taught them about proper relationships. Make sure they don’t end up battered housewives and all that. Those girls could even turn a douche like Dutch into a saint. Always knew how to defuse a situation, always knew how to solve problems. But they also always know when to drop a guy, that’s why she threw Dutch to the curb after two years.” Proper relationships. Daniel found himself almost nauseous at this realization. The government was turning girls into…

“Any other questions you had?”

“No, that-… that just about covers it. Thanks. Oh, and by the way, don’t tell Matthew about this. I don’t want him to feel like I don’t trust him to tell me this stuff.

“I totally understand. He’s way excited about his plan. I can see why you were nervous.”

Daniel finally found himself alone, in the vehicle taking him home. He could not believe what he had just heard. The government was not just training young children to be perfect little citizens, it was teaching girls to whore themselves for the cause. It made sense. What better way to reach out to the lonely Ethan Rodger’s out there than to have a harlot for them to fuck. He realized he was not staring some experiment down. It was a fully blown assembly line for the lives of people like him. Get them friends who support them early, then bullies who only bully just enough to make you fall in line but not hurt you, then create a fake high school sweetheart to lust after. By college, you are a traditional American. If he had not demonstrated how well the SCC drones had raised him, how far would she have gone to fix him? No, the program was about perfect citizens. They were designed to find perfect husbands and make more drones for the overseers. That night had just been another step in her loyalty training.

Daniel had not gone to work in three days. On the third day, he had received a robotic call informing him he needed to come in to the office the next day or be fired. He questioned whether he really cared. It was painful being enlightened. All the ignorant masses walked by his window, delighted in their bliss, not knowing the truth. The government and its stars-and-stripes robots were working them like clay. Every thought and action they had was formed by the people in their lives who manipulated them to be that way. The government controlled their upbringing. Daniel now knew how Orwell and Huxley felt, though he knew he was slightly ahead of them. This did not stop the cycle of depressed laziness and infuriated pacing around his room. There was only one way to win. To shock them. To beat them. That’s what Ethan Rodger did. He changed the world, but he did not know what he was doing. I do. I can succeed where he failed. And it all starts with Missy.

Daniel went to work. Daniel kept up appearances. Daniel even occasionally messaged Matthew to talk about foolish things. He needed them to be unsuspecting. He needed them right where he wanted them. Finally, Saturday came around. Daniel applied himself like he never had. He brushed his hair, styling it just like in the magazine he had downloaded. He put on the latest style, the kind of look the flashiest people wear at the club. A new pair of the highest-grade shoes. He looked like the celebrities that girls had on posters in their rooms. It was time to put his plan into motion.

Daniel knocked on Missy’s door. She lived in a nice apartment complex. The automatic door had been broken, so nothing stopped him from getting to her front door. He took a pose he had seen in movies, leaning on her doorframe. She came to the door and opened it completely, without using the chain lock.

“Can I help you… Daniel? Daniel, is that you?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me.” Daniel was wearing the suavest voice he could manage like another piece of his ensemble. He made sure his head was slightly downturned so his eyes would look up slightly at her.

“Looking like that I almost didn’t. Is there a reason you dropped by?”

“I’ve come a long way; could we at least have this discussion inside?”

“I-I suppose”

Daniel waltzed inside before she finished the thought. He took a glance around but it was only for appearances. He chose not to actually notice any of it. He simply located the couch and sat down, patting the seat next to him to beckon her over.

She remained standing.

“We haven’t really spoken in… year-”

“I know, isn’t it a shame?” He stood up and slid in close to her. “Look, I’ve learned a lot about the SCC the last few days. Now I understand what was really going on all those years ago.”

“What are yo-”

“I know all about how they made you into some sort of puppet, just like Adam and Matthew. But what they did to you was worst of all. Turning some innocent girl into a housewife.”

“What?”

“But I’m here to help that.” He took her hands in his and pulled them close to him.

“What?”

“I’m gonna help you rebel. I’m gonna show you a whole world of possibilities.”

“What the…?”

He pushed her against the wall.

“What are you-”

“Don’t fight it. I’m gonna show you how to overcome the programming.”

“Programming?”

He pulled up her shirt.

“Stop.”

She pushed him away.

“Don’t worry.”

He slammed her hands up above her.

“Please.”

He pulled down her pants.

“You’ll love it.”

She turned away.

“Oh, god.”

“That’s the spirit.”

She was mostly quiet after that remark. She lightly rubbed the bruise on her arm as he removed the rest of her clothes. He kissed and sucked her neck as he undid his shirt and pants. He pinned her slightly against the wall and she pulled him slightly toward the couch. He took her by the shoulders and guided her toward it. She was compliant, never resisting much. His breathing sped up, getting deeper and heavier. He told her not to worry, not to be afraid, not to be ashamed. It was all natural, the way it was supposed to be. She squealed a bit as he first entered, shoving his way in as much as possible. She grabbed at him, squeezing as hard as she could. He got faster and faster before stopping for a moment. He pulled away and flipped her over. He bent her legs and arms to get her on all fours. She complied like a posable doll. He told her it would be better for her this way. He re-entered and slid a hand down her stomach, rubbing her as he thrusted. With his other hand, he pushed her head down. He went as fast as he could, both his thrusting and his rubbing. He finally noticed something and, without stopping his motions, he leaned in and whispered to her, with his tongue lightly touching her ear:

“Don’t forget to breathe.”

Daniel sat at home, still in his assumed outfit. He was proud of himself. She may have shoved him out the door, but that was just part of her processing. Sometime soon, she would message him, thanking him for releasing her from the stars-and-stripes robot. Soon he would find a way to help Matthew rebel. Then he would gather people together and put an end to the SCC. They would see him as a hero. Releasing them from the control of Big Brother.

His temple vibrated. Matthew was calling.

“Hello,” he said blankly.

“Dude, have you heard about what Missy is saying? Did you go over there and harass her or something?”

“No.”

“Oh, thank god. I thought something insane had happened.”

“I freed her.”

“What?”

“I went over there. I told her that I could undo that training. The government turned her into an arranged marriage like she was a slave to sell. I showed her causal sex. I freed her mind control.”

“What the living fuck are you talking about!?”

“I’m gonna destroy the SCC so that no one ever has to deal with their robots again. No more people turned into good little citizens by their government controlled friends and girlfriends.”

“What the hell are you saying? Did you actually r-”

“She just needs some time to realize what I did for her.”

“You… dammit man, you are going to jail! You sick… what’s wrong with you? The SCC? That’s just a daycare that teaches people to get along! What mind control? For… for… oh god… the cops are… how could you do this?” Matthew wept slightly.

Daniel heard a pounding at his door. He went to answer it, with an annoyed look on his face.

“What?”

“What? What!? The fuck do you mean what?”

“What are you here for?”

“I’m here because you just fucking raped Missy! Why the fuck are you dressed like that? Who the fuck are you!?”

“I am the one of us who hasn’t had people poking around in his fucking brain. You’re just some government experiment. Ethan Rodger saw this world for what it was. It hasn’t changed. The government just dresses it up in its slut make-up so nobody goes against the grain. I’m a revolutionary. I’m gonna undo the control. We deserve our own lives, without the government telling us we should be happy little slaves to the status quo. I released Missy. They told her a proper relationship was staying with an asshole like Dutch forever. I showed her she could have a real man. One that treats her well and thinks about her and listens to her. She’s gonna fuckin’ thank me.”

“My god.” Matthew’s eyes were wide. He was raking his fingers into his hair. He could not blink. He could not move. He could only barely choke out:

“You’re a monster…”

“No…” Daniel stepped out onto his balcony. He had written his journey down. Had recorded it with his display. It had just finished uploading. Before he fell past the rail he finished his thought: “I am victorious.”

Want to support this project?

https://www.patreon.com/pistolgripunk