http://nanotexts.blogspot.com/2009/11/waiting-room-day-four-results-1.html
This office and the lives ended here were not what typically came to mind when he was here. It was his first entry into this room that still haunted him. When things were different and so was he. Not yet Anagram Generator, but Gene R. Raaantogram. On that day he was running late, trying to get home to his wife and new son, Gene, Jr. The day had started out pleasant enough, but a dead battery stalled him in his tracks, fixing his tires to the pounded pavement. Thick cumulonimbi blocked any chance of charge from the sun.He cursed the rotten electro-swiper who most likely had used the power on some little suped-up hot mod to terrorize the pedestrians. Didn't they realize he had places to be?Just as he stepped out of the car, a junky looking Volvo pulled up beside him."Do you like the Violent Femmes?"The driver was wearing a battered brown jacket and a winning smile. Gene R. Raaantogram was confused. Who was this strange man with this strange internal combustion vehicle? Where did he come from? Where does he buy gasoline? He hesitated, but the driver gave him a reassuring nod and popped the passenger door."You're going home, right?""Ye-yes?""Thought so. This is Louise," he said, giving the dashboard a pat, "and I'll be your driver today. Sit back and relax and we'll have you there in no time. How's Gene Jr.?""Wha? How do you know all this?" Gene was instinctively reaching for the door handle. It was locked."It's my job to know," the driver says casually."But how? Why is this door locked?""That doesn't matter now, you've got a job interview to get to!""I thought you were taking me home, you said you were." Gene was getting scared."Easy there buddy. NO I'm not a kidnapper, NO there aren't any people on the way to yer house. I'm sorry man, but frankly noone is interested in your wife like that but you...Look you can just consider me an agent of a power that's higher than you are. NO I'm not talking about "god". Just calm down, yes I'm reading your mind. You need to stop asking questions, even if they aren't with yer mouth- Let's start at the beginning, You can call me Hank."Suddenly the smile vanishes. His eyes narrow and his right hand quickly goes to the inside of his brown jacket."He's my ride Viv." said the cabbie in a low clear voice. "Besides, I don't think he's your type."A soft laughter surrounds me. It's a woman's, but not one that I recognize. I spin around - but no one's there. The laugh grows louder, setting the hairs on the back of my neck on edge. I look back to the cabbie when suddenly I feel her next to me. Her hand is on my shoulder - nails gently raking my shirt collar. She leans in and I can smell lavender and bleach on her breath."Can you believe that he's still driving this piece of shit?" she whispers."Back off Viv," the cabbie warns, "I wouldn't want you to break a nail."She laughs again and moves in front of me, blocking my view of the Volvo. She's wearing a black cat suit and has a Glock holstered to her thigh."I must be going mad. This can't be happening to me. What is happening to...""I told you to stop asking questions, even if they're just in your head!" Hank spat at me.I am frightened. I am trying to not ask any more questions, but my mind is still racing. Racing down the wrong way of a one-way street. I need to regulate my breathing and keep a track of my heart rate. Don't ask any questions Gene, don't think any questions. Just turn everything off.I had lost the feeling in my feet. I can feel the nerves all shutting down in my body. I begin to panic, my mind begins to race. Don't ask any questions Gene, don't think any questions. It's okay, everything is just turning off."It helps if you sing along." Hank offered."Come again?""With the song, just listen to it for a bit and sing along--it is really hard to keep singing and thinking at the same time. At least it is for most people."We shoot off at excessive speeds. It strikes me that the Volvo runs surprisingly well for a POS. Smooth like this ride. I have this sense of not belonging. The World oblivious to our presence. Pedestrians whiz by, unknowing that a madman is at the wheel. So many stop lights avoided. Is he giving the road his full attention? And then I notice. A stoplight. It's yellow and far off."Single pointed attention ya know?""yeah-" was my only rebuttle, thoughtless paranoia- the unseen, unthought embrace by some vicious coniving heart..""Let it go mate, what do you feel about that music, beats running circles in your head. Could have a bit of generic conversation if you fancy that."The nerves once trusted were panicked and firing neurons all mixed up, stuttering thoughts somehow landed on a baseball-"Have you got money on Phillies for Yanks this year Gene?" uttered Hank."I...I..." was all that escaped my lips. Even though he could read my mind, it was all he could understand of me as well."What? Speak up!" Hank spat at me again."I...I..." was all that was in my head. I had stopped thinking. There were no songs to sing. No thoughts to think. Nothing. All I saw was that yellow light turn red as we raced toward it. I kept my eye on the light, nothing else.Hank became flustered, not able to understand anything I was saying or thinking. He turned to me and began shouting. I couldn't hear anything. All I could see was that red light as we raced beneath it.I started to scream wordlessly as our white blur flashed through the intersection causing cars that had just started to move to honk and screech to a halt. The acceleration was starting to get to me, the gees pulling me back against my seat. Hank, however seemed unaffected."Get a grip on yerself Gene, you'll want to be sharp for the interview- Viv, get him some better clothes!"As Hank addressed Viv again I realized that in my panic/confusion I'd not noticed that she'd disappeared again. Turning around towards the back seat my peripherals catch her rematerializing from translucent to solid. Now she's wearing a nurses outfit, clearly of the fetish variety as it appears to be some sort of latex. The glock has been replaced with an oversized a hunting knife strapped to her thigh. She uses a fist to whack the door panel and out pops a secret compartment that’s got a three piece suit hanging in it.“I’ve never guessed wrong on mens sizes, but you’ll have to embrace my fashion sense Gene, because our research indicates you’ve got none,” she says handing me a fresh blue buttondown oxford shirt.
http://donyonda.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-6.html
As Viv hands me the shirt, I find myself trying to restrain the questions again. This is helped by my amazement that the shirt does indeed fit."Of course it fits," laughs Hank, "weren't ya listening to her?""He's still in shock Hank- be nice."I decide to test Hank's abilities to get inside my head. I need to ask a question, just one question. So I try to keep the Femmes singing in my head as I ask, "Can you tell me where we're going yet?"Hank turns around, taking his eyes completely off the road and completely into mine. "That trick doesn't work if you have to plan it out in your head, stupid. But I tell you what, since you've reduced your unnecessary questions down to only one and since I'm liking your rendition of that song--I'll let Viv explain, Viv.""You
have been summoned to have a meeting with a very powerful man who's getting close to retirement," she says. "Don't stop dressing, we're getting close." I was caught by surprise. Could Viv ream my mind as well, or did Hank project my thoughts into her mind? I'm nervous and I begin to fumble with my shirt. I haven't realized that the buttons are all messed up. I have one button too many on the bottom of the shirt, and one hole to many on the top. I'm getting frustrated. I'm getting nervous. There is so much going on and I need answers. I try to sing the song in my head but I've forgotten all of the words. I begin to cry. I see Hank turn around and say something to me, but I can't hear him. He knows what is going on in my mind, but now I don't know what he is trying to tell me. Viv undoes my shirt and begins to dress me appropriately. "Don't worry, you just need to calm down," she tells me. I can't help but feel overwhelmed by her touch. Her nails are long and red, like her lipstick, her hands are smooth and her touch is graceful. As she continues to button my shirt I feel the blood rushing down. She looks at me, I begin to blush. "Don't flatter yourself. You're just another man and I'm an expensive woman. If you don't calm down, I'll kill you." I'm not sure what she just said to me, But I can't help the urges I begin to feel. Her hands are now grasping my inner thigh. She pulls something from behind her ear. It is small and green. "Don't worry, these are just to help calm your mind." I'm not sure what she said, but she leans toward me, face first. She opens her lips and I open mine. Before our lips touch, she drops the thing she pulled from behind her ear, perhaps a pill or a drug, I'm not certain, into my mouth. She then kisses me, hard and fast, with her tongue down my throat. She was forcing this thing down my throat with her tongue. I know I should've stopped her, but I couldn't stop. I enjoyed the position I found myself in too much. I'm not sure when we got to our destination, or when Hand stopped driving. I'm not sure when Viv stopped kissing me either. All I know is that we were here and I had no questions left to ask. "Remember you have a wife and a kid waiting for you at home." If I ever get home. That was where I had been trying to get to before all this started happening to me."Typical man, thinks it is just happening to him--but that is always the case isn't it?" Viv added.Hank shot Viv a look. Their two sets of eyes locked as though a long painful history was being recounted silently. Viv's breathing quickened and she turned her head away."Well Gene, there's your door." Hank said, pointing at the building before us. The drugs were still slightly affecting me. I know this because the door in front of me should have been more terrifying, I know it was later.As I stared at it looking for a handle, there was the sound of an automated bolt sliding. A metallic voice said, "ENTER" as the door slid.Behind the door was a hallway going straight back at least fifty yards. The walls were lined with doors, each had a white blinking light above it.The metallic voice spoke again,from everywhere and nowhere."MR. RAAANTOGRAM, MR. JIMENEZ WILL SEE YOU IN THE GREEN ROOM." The lights above the doors start to blink in all colors of the rainbow, cycling. I spot a green light and begin to chase it down the hall.
http://donyonda.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-10-i-think.html
"Go get em!" Yells Hank with a sudden laugh. The green light stays a few doors ahead of me as the hallway gradually curves to the right and down. I pick up speed, hurtling downhill as the angle of the floor increases. If I can just go a little faster... but no, the light keeps pace with me, remaining a door or two beyond my reach. I glance back over my shoulder for a second to see how far I've come, and immediately run full speed into a door at the end of the hall. How the hell did that get there? There was nothing but hallway a second ago, and yet here it is, solid, a bright green light above it. I pick myself up off the floor and reach for the handle. As I open the door I am blinded by a white light. There seem to be spotlights all around the room that are trained on the door. Raising my hand to shade my face, I make out the silhouette of a man sitting behind one of them in a chair."Welcome Gene!" By this point I am not surprised, everyone knows my name and I will just be in the dark—whatever Viv pushed into me works well. “Allow me to introduce myself, I am Giorgio Jimenz.”The introduction was a pure formality. Everyone knew of the Jimenz family, with the brothers Salvatore and Giorgio, their sister Monica, and the grand patriarch of the family… Sebastiano. The Jimenz family were the exception to the changing times. While most people’s fortunes we radially altered by the crash they only became slowly and steadily more powerful and influential. “Nice to meet you, sir.” “I imagine you are wondering why you find yourself here? Let me explain for many years alongside my other business in the world in charge of the operation that you see here before you. I know it may not look like much but let me explain ...We are in the midst of a serious transistion Gene. As hard as it may seem to believe, the era of the Bearers is nearly at an end. I know this because my brother, Salvatore, the head of the Bearers, is sick--he doesn't have long. I have access to much... Well, let me rephrase that, I have access to ALL information. You could say it sort of...runs in the family. Regardless of my power the important thing for you to know is that I am in the process of my own retirement. Which brings us to why you're here.For some time now, Monica, my sister, and I have been putting the final touches on an organization that is to be more powerful then the Bearers ever were.You see Gene, the time for bearing has passed. What the world needs now is an assignment..."
http://donyonda.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-11-continuing-from-day-10.html
"And that is where you come in, Gene. What the Bearers failed to take advantage of is the assignment of knowledge. My brother (my whole family, for that matter) understands well the power associated with information. When the internet was first created, we realised it's potential for hoarding the collected knowledge. 'Bearing,' if you will. We also realised the potential for power this created. Anyone who wanted to know anything would have come to us. Governments, corporations, powerful people the world over would be beholden to us! Where my family and I disagreed is in the applicaion of knowledge. The Bearers locked it away, but then what? Does a sword in the sheath have any power? Yes, it can intimidate, pacify, that is true. But a sword to the throat can dominate, enslave, cower the strongest of foes. Gene, what they failed to understand is that knowledge is a weapon. I intend to use it."
[day 12 still from the above]
"Look, I don't mean to interrupt your maniacal monologue, but I've had a very confusing day. Can you just tell me why I was brought here? That cabbie Hank said it was some kind of job interview, but I'm already gainfully employed and I think I may still be under the influence of some drug given to me by a smoking hot ghost or something." "Excellent. All of our data on you suggested you were a man with a propensity for the direct." Giorgio smiled as he continued "What this position offers is well beyond gainful employment. Let's just say you won't ever have to worry about your car not charging in the morning.""You mean Hank and Viv are going to pick me up each day?" Gene asked."No the cabbie and Viv are only for special occasions. What I am offering you is the sort of position where money would be no object for you."
[day 13 still from the above]
"No object, you say? I assume that's to be followed with a list of creepy tasks or something...""Very good Gene," Giorgio was laughing. "I wouldn't exactly use the word evil, but what we do here does have a tendency to startle the weak minded. You see, this is a data consolidation factory, you may have heard of them before... Basically the problem with data is that the majority if it exists within people."Gene squintshrugged, "So what, you conduct alot of interviews or something?"Giorgio was laughing again. "It's not that simple Gene. Maybe it's best if I show you."
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Giorgio got up from his chair and walked over to a desk in the center of the room that Gene hadn’t at first noticed. Lifting a pitcher of water, he revealed a control panel with many brightly colored buttons. Gene watched as Giorgio selected a button and held it down for a few seconds.
ReplyDeleteThe walls of the room began to spin. Though the floor was remaining stationary, Gene found that his mystery dose seemed to increase the sense of imbalance. The door frame that he’d walked through was spinning with the walls, lining up with an array of different doorways, one at a time. Suddenly the door that Giorgio had presumably selected appeared in the frame. The walls stopped spinning.
“Come with me,” said Giorgio.
Following the Jimenez brother through the doorway, Gene found himself on a catwalk over some kind of medical center. Below him were beds on either side of the railing, beds with people in them. All these “patients” had strange looking machinery with complex dials hooked up to them. Gene could feel a headache starting.
“What are you doing to these people?”
“These are twenty of Sal’s precious Bearers. We’re taking back the information my brother foolishly allowed them access to.”
“These are Bearers? I’ve never even seen a Bearer in person, how did you catch them?”
Giorgio had lost any trace of his smile.
“It wasn’t hard, these are the ones who were releasing information that noone else had—In other words, these people were the Bearers who couldn’t bear to keep secrets. They made themselves easy targets.”
“What’s gonna happen to them when you’re finished?”
“Oh, don’t worry Gene, I have no intention of killing them. After we’ve recovered what we want, they’ll be released… The ones who deserve punishment will lose a little more than they took, but that’s only fair. Come on, there’s more to see.”
Giorgio grabbed Gene’s shoulder and steered him back around towards the door.
Back in the room that Gene guessed was the main office; Giorgio pushed another button. The walls realigned and this time the door in the frame seemed to be that of an elevator.
“You know, for someone who sucks memories from people you don’t like, you’re sure disclosing a lot to someone you don’t know,” said Gene.
“It sounds like you’re not paying attention Gene, let’s do a recap, Okay?
One, I know more about you than you do—like I suggested, we have a file.
Two, those people are not people I have any particular emotional reaction to, in fact, if anything, I used to like some of them. But they have proven themselves to be traitors and traders of information that is not theirs. They owe us.
Three, I’m not disclosing anything to you. That pill Viv gave you was not only an inhibition-reducer; it also breaks up the protein strands that would have been going into your long-term memory. Long story short, I’ll have to show you all this again when the time is right.”
“Well Georgie, it sounds like your file on me must be wrong. You’re still assuming I’ll want to take this job and unfortunately, if I don’t remember this conversation, all you’re gonna end up with is two versions of ‘no’.”
ReplyDeleteFor a moment Giorgio flashed an expression of his rage. Then he sighed and started to smile again.
“Look Gene, I admire you. I just don’t think you’re willing to hear what I’m telling you yet. This is not meant to be an offer in the sense of having a choice of refusal. The choices you may be presented with will have more to do with how this happens, not if it happens. From this point on it might serve you better to consider this a firstday that will be so hectic, you’d rather not remember. But I’m tired of being forced into the role of bully. I chose you for a reason and I really do think that you’re the best one for the job, so just let me show you what you’re inheriting here.”
Gene was at a loss. He was confident that there had been at least one threat embedded in what Giorgio was telling him. He knew that that this was a man of power and he believed that Giorgio wasn’t lying—about the position or the pill. But even with all this, Gene didn’t see much he could do but go along, at least for now.
“I know this is a difficult position we’ve point you in Gene. Believe me, I would have approached you differently if I thought it could be done. Really, you should be somewhat flattered that it was this important to me to get you—though I could see why you’re not… Yet. But, now we’re just wasting time. The Elevator’s been waiting.”
Giorgio led the way to the elevator and Gene, seeing few choices, followed.
The elevator was fairly plain, except for the complex looking control panel and the chandelier. The walls and ceiling were buffed stainless steel. There was a decorative rug on the floor.
Giorgio select a button on the panel and the elevator started going down at what Gene felt was an excessive speed. Though this could have been the residual effects of the drug still lingering.
“I think it’s time you meet my sister,” said Giorgio.
There was a “bing” as the elevator doors opened on a new floor.
Gene has taken by both the fullness of the room and at the same time, the lack of available space left within it. There was a clearly defined aisle of bare white linoleum going straight out of the elevator. On both sides of this aisle stacks of computer parts as tall as the ceiling.
“What is all this?” Gene asked, perplexed.
“This,” said Jimenez unfurling his palm, “Is Monica’s workshop. My father always encouraged her to find consuming hobbies. She likes to claim that she’s got all the tech that the Bearers missed. Follow me.”
Gene followed Giorgio down the path until they came to a three-way intersection, Giorgio turned right, Gene stopped and looked left.
ReplyDelete“I don’t think there’s any point in you seeing what’s down there yet Gene, come on, keep up.”
They walked past stacks of monitors, keyboards, computer towers, fax machines, copiers, scanners, scanners that could copy and fax, faxes that could scan and copy, there were things down here that Gene had never before seen. To Gene, there didn’t seem to be any order to the arrangement of stuff. He wondered how anyone could find anything down here.
As they passed an ancient looking ATM machine, the aisle suddenly widened into a circular spot of clear flooring. In the middle of this circle, surrounded by a mountain of mostly defunct technology stood a woman crouched down near some kind of bed. She was using a wench on the pieces under the bed. Gene spotted similar dials integrated into the bed as the ones on the machinery he had seen the patients hooked to from the catwalk.
“Monica, this is Gene R. Raaantogram”
The woman turned around and stood up, simultaneously moving a pair of magnification goggles to her forehead. Monica sized up Gene as she dropped the wrench into a disorderly looking toolbox that sat open at her feet.
“That was today? I must have lost track of the week again… Hi Gene, my name is Monica.”
Monica extended a hand that Gene started to shake. It became clear that she as not trying for the standard vertical pump. She turned back to Giorgio.
“Gio, you didn’t teach him the handshake?”
“Viv gave him a dose, I didn’t feel like explaining it to him twice. What can I say, I’ve just gotten lazy in my old age.”
“I spent a long time on that handshake,” she said, sounding slightly hurt.
“Come on Monica, it’s just a fucking gesture. It’s not that important. Gene is what’s important. He’s the one we picked to run things after we leave--”
“Excuse me Giorgio, but I know who Gene is. I know why he’s important. I’m the one who found him and I’m the one who wrote the majority of his goddamn file. You end up sounding like a fucking ass when you try to talk down to me, bro.”
Gene was made slightly uncomfortable by this exchange. Not just by the sibling’s dispute, but also by the idea that Monica was the one responsible for this file that supposedly revealed more about him than even he knew. How long had she been watching him?
ReplyDelete“Nice,” exhaled Giorgio, “way to make him feel comfortable—Why don’t I just go back upstairs and you can have some private time with Gene? I’d hate for him to think we’re both assholes… Gene, come back by my office on your way out. And don’t worry, Monica and I have just been under some stress lately, it’s nothing serious. Carry on Moni.” With that he turned and started out of the path back to the elevator.
Monica clapped her hands together in a “let’s get down to business” sort of way.
“Let’s start again, okay? Hi Gene, my name is Monica.” This time when he stuck out his hand, she grasped it firmly we both of hers and pumped it three times in enthusiastically.
“Hi there Monica, my name is Gene and I’ll be your prisoner today,” he said in his best officious voice. Then something he hadn’t expected happened, she started to laugh, genuinely.
“Jesus Gene… I’m sorry… That’s the funniest things I’ve heard in… He didn’t actually call you a prisoner, did he?!”
“Well not exactly I guess. It was more like, ‘you’re fucked, you have no choice, you must do what I say.’”
“Oh Gene, I’m so sorry. He wasn’t lying about the stress, though I don’t think you deserved any of that… I must say that I underestimated your sense of humor, but I’m truly glad I did—noone who takes things too seriously should ever have to suffer my family. Would you like some lemonade?”
Without waiting for an answer, she disappeared behind a stack of vending machines and returned holding two glasses of the stuff.
“Thanks,” said Gene who happened to find himself parched.
“No problem,” said Monica handing him a glass. “I’m sure my brother didn’t think to offer you anything, he tends to forget that people need fuel, you’re probably pretty thirsty. Plus, the citrus in this will delay the closing of the memory window from that deinhibrowipo that Viv gave you. You see, I don’t want you to forget everything we talk about.”
Gene was still trying to keep his guard up, after all, in his mind, he was a prisoner. But he found himself wanting to trust Monica. She seemed much more understanding of his position than Giorgio.
“Do you have something you want to tell me? You know that I’m a married man right? Oh wait, you’re the one who wrote my file, of course you know…” He was doing bizarre things with his eyebrows and simultaneously winking. On mention of his file, he pantomimed a hyperbolized version of the nervousness he felt by pulling out his collar.
Gene was trying to continue making her laugh. It was what felt natural around Monica, plus he’d already decided that she was the best ally he could hope for. He found that simply being away from Giorgio had made him feel a little better. His comedy made him wonder if there was a pharmacy somewhere that stocked deinhibro without the wipo.
Monica flashed a temporary smile, but Gene could tell she was ready to get serious.
“Actually Gene, I do have a few things to tell you. Some things that I’d rather you hear from me than from Gio. You see, he’s right to say you’re important, we really do need you, but I care more that you know that. The other thing is that I feel I know a little more about why you’re important than my brother does.”
Gene found himself feeling even more receptive to Monica and what ever she had to say. He had always found that women telling him that they needed him made him feel better about his lot in life, even when he didn’t have what they thought they needed (or a reason to need them back). But that’s probably how I ended up stuck with Penny and the kid he found himself thinking, and regretting his inner monologues frankness.
ReplyDelete“You know Monica, you could have just asked for my help,” he said still trying for a friendly angle.
“I know Gene, that’s what I had originally proposed to my brother after I found you… He’s a bit paranoid, among other things. But you don’t end up with a familial reputation like ours by being courteous or even having basic social skills. I think when he overruled me he was mostly afraid.”
“Afraid of me?” Gene was wondering what could possibly make a chartered accountant seem threatening to a man with the kind of power that Jimenez had.
“Afraid that’d you refuse. Afraid that you’d use our need against us. That’s why he went about this like he did. He can’t ‘bear’ to give you a choice, so he’s assigning you. I know how ridiculous that logic is, believe me, it’s just that my brother is used to getting his way. We were somewhat privileged being raised by the founder of the Bearers.”
At this point Gene reviewed what he knew about the Jimenez family. He remembered vaguely a time when the Bearers were run by Monica’s Father, Sebastiano. Back then, the whole organization’s profile had been much lower. But that was before they’d infiltrated the whole world’s info-structure, before people started to disappear. Under Sabastiano, people were more suspicious of the experiments rumored to be happening, mostly on memorial sites, than they were of the group itself.
“I bet you had quite the childhood,” mused Gene.
“Actually I think I ended up being the lucky one as the youngest. Like I said we were privileged. But that’s neither here nor there, so let’s get to the point before we miss your window.”
Gene nodded. His lemonade was gone after all.
“What I’m about to tell you is deeply personal, I mean I’m talking about my family here you know. I’d appreciate your discretion, though unlike my brother I would have trusted you without the deinhibrowipo… As Giorgio may have informed you, my oldest brother, Salvatore is sick. He’s got… Well, look—he’s got the plague.”
“Oh that’s terrible,” said Gene sincerely. Seeing Monica’s eyes well-up would have made him feel sympathy for the worst of massmurderers, and for all he knew, perhaps they had.
“It is terrible,” she said, “for my brother, the person. But aside from my personal concern for him, it would actually be good news for the world. That is IF he’d willingly step down from the Bearers and let Giorgio have his turn, which he won’t. You see Gene, the men in family tend to be really big on power. Salvatore will never give up what he has by choice. And to be frank, that’s Giorgio’s reason for wanting to overthrow him—not because Sal refuses to quit, but because Gio does. They haven’t spoken two words to each other since my father put Sal in place instead of Gio.”
“So ol’ georgie thinks that by creating a new organization to overthrow Sal things could be better?”
ReplyDelete“First off Gene, despite what Gio may have told you, the Assigners have existed within the Bearers almost since the beginning. When my father went on to pursue his…uh.. ‘retirement’, he left Salvatore the Bearers and placed Giorgio as head of the Assigners to work for Sal semisecretly. To this day Sal doesn’t seem to realize that any directions he has for the Assigners go thru Gio.”
“I’ll bet that hasn’t helped Gio’s ego much has it?”
“You have no idea Gene—And that’s why Gio has been consolidating his power, so that he can overthrow Sal all together. In private talks he likes to tell me that it’s because Sal won’t do what’s best for him, but really I think he just wants to have ‘the Assigners’ as the name over ‘the Bearers’ on some kind of pride-marquee in his head. The real problem, that makes this whole thing a little more complicated, is that Gio has been waiting years for an opportunity like this and now that it’s come around he’s not fit to lead…”
“Wait, is Giorgio sick too? He only mentioned some kind of ‘retirement’ to me.”
“Well, yes and no. You see this?” Monica thumped the bedthing with the familiar dials.
“Yeah,” said Gene not clear on where this was headed.
“This is an invention of mine. I call it the revosucker because I came up with it after I designed the machinery Gio’s been using to take back knowledge from all the rogue Bearers he can find. Basically, it’s the same sort of tool, but it works backwards—It’s a pump.”
“So… What? You designed some kind of indoctrinator?”
“Oh that’s good Gene, I’ll have to write that one down… Anyway, I designed this after Gio requested a way to make himself smarter without doing any work. The problem is that he’s become somewhat of an addict.”
“What’s the problem with wanting to learn?” asked Gene, “Even if it is cheating”.
“After I started the initial testing, I realized that there was a slight problem with the crowding of the old info all ready stored in the brain. I warned Gio, but he refused admit there’s a problem, or to delay his personal use. When I realized he wouldn’t stop, the only thing I found might help would be a safer version. I’ve been constantly tweaking the programming, for years now and this is the most modern version. Unfortunately he’s been using each version and essentially overdosing, given all the information he has access to thru his operatives and the databases.”
“Is his brain swollen or something?”
“Kind of— the affects of the crowding are similar to that. You must take into account that when you try to upload ‘the history of coffee tables’ or somesuch, there needs to be a place to put it. For Gio the problems that have manifested are more to do with something similar to a shortout. You see, the brain is naturally limited with how much it can learn in a given day and he’s been pushing that boundary day after day for years. Not to mention that learning is meant to be a process spread over time. It’s fairly shocking to the brain to suddenly just know something.”
“Why didn’t you just destroy the machine?”
ReplyDelete“Look Gene, it’s unfortunate to me that my brother insisted on using the earlier versions and that he’s pushing the boundaries, but that doesn’t stop my goal of creating a model that works. This is technology that we may need in the future if things go the way I’m worried they will.”
Gene wondered what she meant by that. What was she not telling him?
“Forgive me Monica, but let’s make sure I’ve got this straight. So Sal is sick but refuses to give up his power. Gio is overloaded but wants to see Sal out of office before he retires. And you’re down here being the family genius without a public face?”
“That’s basically it, minus the genius part,” she said.
“Oh excuse me, ‘talented-inventor-of-ideas-and-the-only-nonsick=one’.”
This got her smiling again so Gene went on.
“Two questions, what are you planning to do and where do I fit into all of this?”
“I’m glad we’re back on topic. Okay, so the first thing you should know is that I work for both Sal & Gio. What that means is that Sal thinks I’m exclusively a Bearer and Gio knows I’m a ‘double-agent’. Right now, Sal is trying to expand his power, I’m sure you’ve heard about the amendment for consolidation of print references… Syt Candella is giving a speech against it to the UN next week.”
“I’ve heard of it.”
“In order to get the votes necessary, or at least the public perception that he’s gotten the votes, Sal plans to scare people out of Candella’s way of thinking. Part of this plan involves me writing a code that will make it appear that the world’s internet has destructed.”
“Oh my god! The whole internet? But that’s the only link Sal has left for any man to get any information, even if we only have access to the Bearer-approved info—How can we exist without it?!”
“Calm down Gene. I said ‘look like’. The Bearers mainframes, as well as ours, will be backedup. And like you say, the internet proper is mostly just ‘the barer/bearer version’ anyway. I’ll maintain all the info necessary to bring it back. Really I could even uncensor it again… But anyway, what Sal doesn’t know is that Gio and I have upped the code alittle— Not in a way that would make the pseudocrash better or worse for average people, but in a way we hope will convince Sal of our power to force his retirement. Basically we’re going to use the opportunity to send the Bearer-specfic backup documents over here rather than I where I told him we would.”
“So you’re gonna deliver a code that’s more powerful than what he expected and aside from scaring him you’re also trying to highjack his remaining power—but then Gio gets to be on top… So who’s to say that Gio will willingly step down?”
ReplyDelete“That’s where you come in Gene. I could only get him to promise retirement after I found you. You have skills that even Gio can appreciate this organization needing. Skills that believe it or not, we don’t feel we have by ourselves.”
“But I’m just an accountant working for the Curtchwielder, Goodman, James, Walters, and Stahl law firm!”
“Exactly,” said Monica. “Don’t you see? The Bearers already control most of the world’s finance. Once we consolidate all this, it’ll be even more confusing. Do realize that Sal is just about the only one on Earth printing money now? After the Assigners are in place we’re talking about arranging the flow of a new WORLD currency.”
“So wait… You want me to orchestrate the financial affairs of the world? I’m not sure I’m as skilled as you think.”
Monica walked back over to the bed.
“That’s where the indoctrinator comes in. We have access to just about every financial guide ever written and you’re already a beancounter! Not only has my research shown you to be the perfect temperament for our job and subconsciously looking for a lifechange, but I’ve also determined you to be the best accountant in the area. That means that your brain is already formatted to accept knowledge related to that subject.”
Now that their role for Gene had finally been stated, he found himself once again skeptical (and backed into the corner).
“Come on Monica, you’re gonna sit here and try to tell me that I’m seeking ‘a lifechange’, that I should use the same machine that fried your brother, and that I’ll need to do what you want to help you by taking a position I didn’t ask for?”
“Calm down Gene. Look, I know it’s a hard thing to admit that you’re stuck in a marriage with a brand new baby. I think we both know that your job prospects aren’t looking great with the other partners turning on Fenton. And the thing is that this job will give you power, security and another chance.”
“Okay Monica, so let’s pretend you’re right: I hate my life and don’t have job security—WHAT ABOUT FRYING MY FUCKING BRAIN?!”
“Frankly Gene that is a little offensive. This is the fifteenth generation revosucker. My brother was using versions I never approved. He wanted to acquire things his brain wasn’t prepared for, and at a high speed too. You already know accounting; like I said before, your brain has structured itself in such a way that you’ll be able to fit more.”
“Look—I’m getting a little tired of this. Even though your pitch is delivered fairly differently from Giorgio’s, it’s basically the same. You’re back to telling me what I’m gonna do, only you do it my telling me you know me better than I do. I’m ready to leave now. How can I get out of here without talking to Giorgio?”
“I’m sorry you feel that way Gene, but I understand. Take the elevator, just open the panel and press three three times. It’ll take you to the street. That juice probably gave you three more hours, so don’t do anything you’ll want to remember. Goodbye Gene.”
“Bye.”
Gene followed the path back to the elevator. He walked quickly, sure that if one of Gio’s people saw him, he may be obligated to stay forever.
Pushing the three button thrice took Gene to the street level as promised and he started the long walk home in a run.