Careful Measurements

by Layne D. Hansen

  Mike gazed around the property again and took in a deep breath of the clean air and said, “I was just driving around the lake and I saw your sign. I and recognized the name so I thought I’d stop in and see who I’m going to be dealing with.”

  Patton nodded.

  “This place is gorgeous,” Mike said, taking off his wide-brimmed hat and wiping his forehead.

  Just then Patton’s companion approached.

  “Sorry Mike,” he said, pointing towards the approaching woman. “This is my friend Jennifer.”

  Jennifer gave him wide smile and offered her hand. Mike shook it, fighting the urge to leer at her. He couldn’t help but envy Patton yet again because the woman was gorgeous. He smiled and tipped his hat to her in return.

  “Hi Jennifer.”

  “Hi,” she said, a little shyly.

  “Well Mike, do you have dinner plans?” Patton asked, patting him on the shoulder.

  Mike shook his head and said, “No, I don’t. I ate lunch downtown.”

  “Well, why don’t you stay for a while,” Patton said with a warm smile. “We’re going to grill up some steaks and drink some beers and admire the view.”

  “Sounds great,” Mike said, grateful at the invitation. Suddenly, a sheepish grin crossed his face. “First,” he said awkwardly, “is there any way I could take your John Deere for a spin?”

  Patton and Jennifer looked at each and then they both looked at Mike. They simultaneously burst out laughing.

  Patting his new friend on the back, Patton said, “Sure Mike. Sure you can.”

  CHAPTER

  5

  The large town hall meeting had been planned from the beginning. The experiment’s organizers thought it would be wise to start with a forum where questions could be asked and answered. All of the main researchers were present, as were representatives from the company that had been hired to select the experiment’s participants.

  A large amphitheater was built specifically for this meeting, which the community could utilize for other events. Since the meeting was set to start at dusk, many citizens elected to stay at home, put their children to bed, and watch from the comfort of their own homes via an intranet hookup. The chilly air was another deterrent from many people attending in person.

  Patton and Jennifer decided to attend the meeting in person and had a good view of the stage. As they settled into their seats they were both amazed when they took in their surroundings. These people were their new neighbors. They were all embarking on something together. This gave them both a sense of belonging and togetherness. Patton could see both apprehension and excitement on the faces on the people around him and the way his stomach felt at that moment, he knew he must have looked the same way to others.

  On the stage was a beautifully carved wooden lectern, with seven chairs spaced evenly behind it. Serving as a backdrop to the stage was a gigantic screen, which was currently blank. Outside of a few members of a technical crew, the stage was empty.

  “Nervous?” Jennifer asked.

  “A little, I guess,” he said, blowing into his hands to warm them. “Nervous. Excited. Ready to get started. What about you?”

  She leaned into him and clenched at his arm, smiling up at him affectionately and said, “Me too.”

  After a few more minutes of waiting and making small talk, a trumpet blast came over the sound system and the house lights went out. The screen changed to a white background with the words “Welcome to MICROCOSM” in black. The letters began pulsating, in sync with the music, which became a full-fledged symphony. As the music played, and as the audience stood and started to applaud, seven people walked out onto the stage. Some raised their arms and waved to greet the crowd. Others just walked over and stood in front of their seats. At first the whole production seemed hokey and contrived, but Patton couldn’t help but get caught up in the excitement. He found himself cheering along with everyone else.

  A tall and distinguished looking man approached the lectern. His nervous smile could be seen on the giant screen behind him. The man waved to the still-applauding crowd and tried to get them to take their seats. After a few more moments, the noise quieted and the people in the crowd finally took their seats.

  “Wow! Thank you!” he said, turning to his colleagues on the stand. Apparently they hadn’t been expecting such an enthusiastic greeting. “Thank you and welcome!” he said, exultantly raising his arms in the air and the crowd began to cheer again.

  The crowd finally quieted and the man stepped to the microphone again.

  “My name is Doctor Eric Chandler. I’m a professor of sociology at the University of Virginia.” A small contingent of Virginians in the audience cheered. He acknowledged their impromptu greeting with a wave. He continued, saying, “I know that you have had plenty of time to go through the information on our website.”

  The man’s face disappeared and was replaced by the words “www.microcosm.org” in gigantic-sized letters that filled up half of the screen. The letters then dissipated and were replaced again by the familiar main page of the website, a site that most people in the crowd had visited many times.

  “As you’ll see,” Dr. Chandler said, “this is our website.” While operating a mouse on the lectern, a cursor flashed over a link that said, “Welcome to the Experiment.” The cursor disappeared and the new page was loaded. A list of bullet points appeared. At the top of the list was the word “Agenda.” The first bullet point was “Introductions.”

  “Like I said, my name is Dr. Eric Chandler. Also on the stage with me are—” he said, turning back to his colleagues behind him. “—Dr. Alicia Woodley. She teaches Anthropology at Georgia Tech University.” She was a pretty African-American woman in her mid-forties. She stood and waved to the crowd then retook her seat.

  “Next to her is Dr. Eli Greenstein. He is an emeritus professor of economics from Columbia.” Dr. Greenstein was a tall, distinguished looking man in his seventies. He wore a three-piece suit and looked to Patton to be the quintessential college professor. He bowed slightly and smiled and then retook his seat.

  “Next to Dr. Greenstein there is Dr. Bryan Ester. He teaches political science close to here, down at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah.” Dr. Ester was the youngest person on stage. He had a round, friendly face and was dressed much more casually than the rest of his colleagues. He waved and smiled shyly and quickly took his seat again.

  “Here now, is Doctor Emily Nguyen-Baker. She is a professor of psychology from Stanford.” Dr. Baker was a petite, pretty middle-aged woman, who, to Patton, appeared to be part Asian. She bounced from her seat and waved enthusiastically at the crowd.

  “And the last of our scientists is Doctor Tyrelle Robinson. He teaches geography at the University of Arizona.” Dr. Robinson was a tall African American man with salt and pepper hair and beard. He sported thick glasses and seemed to be bored by the proceedings, neither waving nor bowing.

  “Now,” Dr. Chandler said, returning to the agenda, “The last person on the stage is Michael Varner. He is the CEO of Insight Resource, a consulting firm based out of Los Angeles, California. His company was hired by the group that is funding this experiment. Dr. Varner recruited myself and my colleagues here on this stage. I would now like to turn over the microphone to Mike, who may have answers to whatever questions you may have. Mike?”

  Dr. Varner stood and shook Dr. Chandler’s hand brusquely and then stepped the lectern. He adjusted the microphone and waited for the polite but subdued applause to dissipate.

  Once the crowd quieted down, Dr. Varner began, saying, “first of all, I’d like to thank Dr. Chandler.” He turned and nodded cordially to the master of ceremonies.

  Facing the crowd again, Dr. Varner said, “my name is Mike Varner and like Dr. Chandler said I’m the CEO of Insight Resource out of Los Angeles. I’m here to answer any question that you might have at this time.

>   “If you’re at home via the intranet, you can click the link that says question slash comment and you can involve yourself in this discussion. If you’re here in the crowd you will find that in between every few seats there is a microphone. To get into the queue, push the green button beside the microphone. When it blinks, that means you are next. When the button lights up and stays solid you know that is your turn. A spotlight above me will shine down on you so I can see where you are. Also, you’ll appear here split screen alongside me on the large screen behind me.

  “So,” he said, clasping his hands together casually, “what questions do you have?”

  There was a long pause while the queue filled up. Finally, a spotlight flashed through the darkening night and moved up and to the speaker’s left. An African-American man appeared on the screen.

  “Yes sir. Oh wait, I’m sorry,” Dr. Varner said. “Before you begin, let’s try to keep questions and comments brief so we can involve more people. All of these questions, answers, comments and responses will be posted on the home website for you all to revisit when needed. Furthermore, all unanswered questions will be answered by our technicians in Los Angeles. You will be able to see those on our website in the coming days. Okay sorry about that interruption. Sir?” he said, gesturing towards the first questioner.

  “Hi, my name is Randall Johnson. I was a police officer in Auburn, Alabama and I was wondering … I know there are police and fire services, but will there be a government at some point?”

  “I don’t know, will there?” Dr. Varner asked. There was scattered laughter, but he hadn’t meant it as a joke.

  After a pause he said, “Sorry sir, but what I say is true. We set up this experiment, we chose the people, and we built the infrastructure. We built your businesses and transported in the cars and everything, but this experiment, and everything that happens here is up to you. Will you set up a government? That is totally up to you as a new community. The purpose of this experiment is to put you all on equal footing financially and see what happens. After that, though, it’s out of our hands and in yours.”

  The lights moved again, this time landing on a man all the way across the arena from Patton and Jennifer. A middle-aged man stood and asked, “you say that it is up to us. Do you mean that everything is up to us? Is that safe? Is this a good idea?”

  Dr. Varner strode forward towards the front of the stage, his chin in his hand.

  “I didn’t mean to sound coy with my last answer. All of us have lived in a country where the laws are well established and where the government is well established. Of course it’s our assumption that some form of government would and should be formed, but we did not want to dictate that to you. I wouldn’t want a government, that we formed, influence how things go in the experiment. Does that answer your question?” The questioner appeared on the big screen again. He nodded and took his seat.

  Dr. Chandler, the man who had introduced all of the scientists, stepped up to the lectern and said, “I would just like to interject here. Everything that we’ve done has been thoroughly examined by dozens of social scientists from all disciplines. Believe me, folks, we wouldn’t do anything without lots of careful consideration. To do otherwise would be very irresponsible of us.”

  Dr. Varner nodded and said, “I agree. This has been a very thorough process. Very carefully thought out at every phase. Next question?”

  The meeting went on and it began to amaze Patton just how dumb some people were. Question after question, people asked if the town would have this or that and the man on stage would stand there with the same expression, the same posture, and answer “I don’t know, will you?”

  After another hour of this, Dr. Varner declared that he would be taking no more questions in that setting but any further questions, as announced before, would be answered by email and posted on microcosm.org. Patton and Jennifer left well before this point, though, not wanting to get caught in what was going to be a huge traffic jam. They were in Patton’s truck, driving through the dark, quiet streets. Jennifer’s neighborhood reminded Patton of the cookie-cutter subdivision he and his wife had moved into after he’d gotten his first real job. He turned into her driveway and parked.

  Despite spending so much time with Jennifer, Patton was feeling butterflies. He exhaled deeply and his cold fingers began to shake. She could tell he was nervous, but she worked to keep her composure, not wanting to embarrass him.

  After an awkward moment she asked him, “What’s wrong?”

  Her voice caught him off-guard and he turned his eyes to meet hers. Not wanting to betray his nervousness, he shrugged and shook his head as if to say “nothing.” But he was a terrible liar. She reached over and grabbed his hands. The sudden intimacy forced him to look at her again.

  “Patton, what’s wrong?”

  He closed his eyes and exhaled again. Suddenly he smiled and then chuckled.

  “I don’t know.”

  She laughed at him, but not in a mocking way.

  “Well,” she said in a smoky, seductive voice that she had never used with him, “why don’t you come in so we can talk about it?”

  He felt a chill and then a tingling sensation up his spine.

  “Sure,” he croaked.

  He knew what his going inside her house would lead to. He was ready. At least he thought he was ready. Jennifer was the first woman he’d been alone with after his wife’s death. After a moment he decided he was ready for what he knew was going to happen.

  The man’s haggard face was illuminated by the large bank of monitors. He looked like a person transitioning from human to zombie. Empty coffee cups and junk food wrappers were strewn all over the workstation. The operator was so concentrated on his work that he didn’t hear the two men approach.

  “Carl.”

  No response.

  “Hey Carl!”

  Still no response. Annoyed, the tall, lean Nate Ransom tapped the distracted man on the shoulder.

  “Carl!”

  Startled, Carl nearly jumped out of his seat. He twirled around in his office chair. The movement caused coffee cups and fast food wrappers to fall to the floor.

  “Carl, this here is Alex. He’s going to be working with you on finishing up the system.”

  Carl, never one for developing personal relationships, nodded a greeting and turned back around in his chair.

  “Carl.”

  No response.

  “Carl!”

  “Yes?” he mumbled, turning back around.

  “I wasn’t finished.”

  Carl adjusted his thick-framed glasses and stared at Ransom.

  “Sorry Nate, been working on this all night. I’m just about finished.”

  All three admired the wall full of gigantic monitors, each displaying two-by-three inch images relayed to the system by cameras that were placed all throughout the town. It was early and the streets were nearly empty so there wasn’t much going on. However, the sheer number of cameras was impressive.

  “How many cameras are there?” Alex asked Nate, not wanting to get Carl’s attention again. Nate looked up and the ceiling, trying to calculate the number in his head.

  “Four thousand, seven hundred and fifty two,” Carl interjected before Nate could finish his calculation.

  Alex whistled. “Why so many?”

  “It was part of the deal with the government. Before they let us do this we had to ensure the people’s safety. This was our solution,” Nate said, gesturing towards the monitors.

  Alex exhaled loudly. “How will a bunch of cameras ensure the people’s safety?”

  Nate shrugged. “Beats me. But they accepted it as our solution so what can ya do?”

  Alex smiled at that. Though late to the game – he’d just recently been hired by Insight Resource – he was beginning to feel like part of the whole machine. He was a recent graduate from t
he University of Utah in systems technology and with a young family, had looked for work locally so he could keep his wife close to her parents.

  “I couldn’t do it,” Alex said, almost to himself.

  “Do what?” Nate asked, confused.

  “Live in a place where I knew I was being watched twenty-four, seven.”

  “These people don’t know about the cameras. That was never part of the contract. We just have this for our monitoring purposes and to satisfy the government.”

  “What do you think they’ll do when they find out?” Alex asked with wide, almost shocked eyes.

  “I don’t know. We don’t plan on them ever finding out. That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”

  Alex looked at the monitors again. Carl was mumbling something and tapping a mechanical pencil on the desk.

  “I don’t know,” Alex said. “I guess I never thought about what the point might be.”

  “That’s good,” Nate said. “It’s not for us to reason why.”

  “What?” Alex replied, confused.

  “It’s a quote. Anyway, we just monitor what’s going on and report it to the people in charge. All those PhDs are the ones who care what actually happens. They’re in it for the money and glory.”

  “Money?” Alex asked, not seeing the connection.

  “Yeah. They take the results from this and publish books and papers and all that. There’s lots of money to be had here. Hey Carl?”

  No response.

  Nate looked at Alex. His head was about to explode.

  “Carl!”

  “Yes?”

  “Did we get the entrance monitoring station up and running?”

  Carl looked out the window at the breaking dawn. He’d been awake for almost forty-eight hours now and his brain wasn’t working at its usual capacity. Finally he said, “Yeah, they called me last night. Then that senator showed up and was asking about it.

  Nate rolled his eyes.

  “Senator?” Alex asked.