“Please come with me,” the man said. Ross followed him into the back of the twin room apartment. The man turned around and pointed at the window sill. Ross saw a crudely made pot, made with shards and all sorts of debris, and from the pot emerged a small green plant sporting a red flower. The bright colours almost hurt his eyes. These colours were not supposed to be present in the City! What the hell was this?
“Here it is,” the man said. “I call it my garden. Don’t you think it’s beautiful, Inspector?”
Ross could hardly believe what he saw. “Beautiful? A living plant in full bloom! This is a severe violation of the City law.”
“I know that,” the man said. “But please, Inspector, take a closer look. Can you honestly say this flower represents evil? That it poses a threat to us all? You know what it represents, Inspector? It symbolises freedom, the possibility to live as it desires. It has a capacity that we lack. We are not free. We live as the Council desires. We are not allowed to get in touch with each other. Men and women are separated, procreation is controlled by the Council. We donate our semen at the Medical Centre and that’s where our involvement ends. This is not a society. It’s a collection of isolated individuals, ruled by a merciless Council. We are unable to erupt into full bloom, like this flower. We need to break free.”
Ross let the man talk. If he didn’t interrupt him, he might supply more information.
“I’m not the only one who favours such views. There are more of us, and we’re trying to organise ourselves without the Council noticing. But we need to be stronger yet. We should have more supporters among the higher levels. We need people like you, Inspector. Look at this beauty. Let its smell convince you. Join us.”
Ross looked him in the eyes, then shifted his gaze back to the flower. Had he indeed stumbled onto a member of a subversive movement? Were there others like him in the City, as this man claimed? Would they all approach Inspectors and other higher level workers, was this part of their plan? Was a wide-scale revolution brewing? Had this man really neglected his professional duties and stayed at home intentionally, expecting the visit of an Inspector, in an effort to enlist him? How would his fellow level D workers react? Would they join or denounce the revolutionaries? Ultimately there were only two possibilities. Either the rebels were successful and grabbed power, in which case the Council and all its loyal supporters would bite the dust. It would be the end of the City. Or the Council would prevail, and all its enemies would be wiped out. So in fact there was only one wise move.
“This flower,” Ross said. “Did you grow it in just these last few days, when the City was swamped with pollen?”
“Oh, no,” the man replied. “These plants don’t grow that quickly. I’ve had this one for quite a while now. Look, there’s a wasp. A fascinating creature.”
To Ross’s horror, an insect indeed came in through the open window. It flew in circles round the plant, hovered in the air for a moment, then seemed to notice him and went straight for his face. Panic welled up inside him, and he hit the insect before it could come near.
“Don’t do that,” the man cried out. “It’s attracted by the flower. It means you no harm, unless you attack it. In that case it will defend itself.”
“That’s enough,” Ross snarled. “I will report you. This flower, the insect, your subversive ideas, your efforts to win me for your despicable cause. You will pay a high price for your treason, citizen.”
“Your hand, Inspector. Look at your hand.”
Just as he grew aware of a throbbing pain, he looked down and saw his hand was swelling. The pain quickly exploded, setting his entire arm aflame, driving all thoughts out of his mind, until it filled every square inch of his body and short-circuited his brain. He yelled, thrashed and flailed, felt how he hit the plant, the man standing next to him and the wall. He must have hurt himself, but the added pain was lost in the agony that held his entire body in its grip. Then everything faded into blackness, and his consciousness dimmed.
When he awoke he understood he was in the City Hospital. His hand was bandaged. He moved it, but there was hardly any pain anymore. How long had he been here? Had his condition been serious, perhaps even critical? What had that goddamned insect done to him? As he got up a doctor entered his room.
“Good afternoon, Inspector. I can see you’re up and running again.”
“Doctor, how long have I been here? Was my condition serious?”
The doctor shook his head. “You needn’t have worried. You were stung by a wasp, a relatively harmless incident, if treated correctly and timely. You must have overreacted for emotional reasons, or perhaps you suffered an allergic reaction. You also bruised your hand by smashing it into a wall. It’s all been taken care of. In a few days you’ll be able to use your hand again. Until then you should take it easy.”
“Doctor, that wasp… There was this man… He was hiding a flower…”
“I know. I was told. Several colleagues of yours are taking over your inspecting duties until you’re fully recovered. The man you mentioned has already been sentenced. Several similar cases have been denounced. A small rebel movement, you might say. Your superiors will undoubtedly give you a full report and briefing. Be assured that the situation is under control.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
A few days later Ross was already back in shape and had resumed his old routines. The special inspection run was in its final stages. The incident with the flower and the wasp had made him even more unyielding than before. He reported everything he saw that did not belong in the City: the tiniest patch of moss, a dead bug on the street, a minuscule spider scuttling away in a dark corner of an apartment. This City was built for man, and for man only. No invaders would be tolerated, no crack in the concrete would be overlooked. His briefing, after his dismissal from the hospital, had merely urged him to continue his inspections even more rigorously. He was also told a nice promotion was a definite possibility if he performed his duties flawlessly. A Level E function might well be within his reach.
In one of the very last apartments to be checked in his district he discovered a box holding what looked like dried up remains of plants and seeds. He had found the box in a cupboard that clearly hadn’t been opened for years, and the man living here probably didn’t know about the box anymore. Its contents had virtually fallen to dust. For a moment Ross considered what to do. Would it be justified to denounce the owner of the box for possessing illegal organic material, even if he might have forgotten about its existence by now and it hardly posed a threat anymore? After all the man would perhaps hardly understand what he was being accused of.
A number of memories came flooding back. The flower with its bright red petals, the wasp that had stung him, the blinding pain setting his arm aflame. The briefing, telling him the City relied on men of his moral stamina to keep life going under difficult circumstances. The spectre of a revolution rearing its ugly head, a menace that had to be stamped out. It was clear what he should do.
The man who had kept this box, even if he might have forgotten all about it, must at one point have been prone to deviant behaviour. In the current climate, with social unrest brewing and a rebel movement trying to organise itself, one should not take any chances. If this man was approached by subversive elements, there was a possibility he might yield and throw in his lot with the rebels.
Ross took his communicator, convinced he was doing the right thing. This man should pay for his crimes. His sentence would be an example to others. Without him and others of his ilk, the City would be a safer place.
In the afternoon he received the news that the public trial was scheduled for tomorrow. He finished the last inspections on his round, which did not reveal any suspicious behaviour. Later that night, he went down to the Level D pub, as he felt the need to socialise. Instead of engaging in conversations that might ease his mind, strained by the incident, the medical treatment and the he
avy inspection schedule, he was immersed in heated discussions that were on the verge of erupting into violent arguments.
The City Council failed to deal efficiently with the food supply problem, some claimed. The overly restrictive rationing only served to stimulate the social unrest. The prison was filling rapidly with convicts, and the staff were not equipped to handle the situation. The City had been free of serious problems for a long time, and the Council’s reaction to a limited presence of small animals and vegetation was exaggerated. Most of these views were heavily contested, and even more fiercely defended. Ross was too tired to take part in the attacks and counter-attacks. Why couldn’t level D workers content themselves to doing their jobs as best they could and leave the rest to the Council? If there hadn’t been any serious problems in a long time, wasn’t that proof that the City Council’s strategy worked perfectly?
The following day he woke up and noticed it must have rained during the night, but the clouds had already made room for an even blue sky and sunshine. This was not a good sign. It was the day of the trial in his district, and he had a gut feeling it might not go entirely as planned. The very moment he arrived at the scheduled place and time, he knew something wasn’t right.
There were way too many people out on the street. It was unthinkable the Council had invited all these people to a simple trial. He looked around and noted there were a fair number of level B and C workers among them, even a handful of A levels. This was unheard of! Who had given these people permission to stay away from their factories and offices? Why were they hanging around here?
Just before the trial was about to begin, the representative of the Justice Administration approached him. “Inspector,” he said, “many of the spectators here have no right to be here. Security forces are on their way to deal with the situation. The trial should go as scheduled.”
Ross nodded. So he had been right. Something was afoot.
The trial began with a short delay. The security forces had pushed back the unauthorised onlookers, and the Justice spokesman addressed the others. “This district’s Inspector has performed superior work. A citizen living in the building behind me proved to be in possession of illegal organic material. This man jeopardised the safety of everyone living in the City. There can be only one sentence for such behaviour.”
Uniformed men appeared, dragging along the man responsible for this crime. Before the speaker could continue, the man struggled free of one of the guards, raised his arm and shouted, “Freedom! Freedom!” Within seconds the guards held him in a stranglehold and forced him to silence. However, the crowd picked up his cry and started chanting, “Freedom! Freedom!”
“These people have no right to be here,” the Justice representative shouted. “They’re disturbing a trial. I want that crowd dispersed.”
The moment the Security Forces charged, the crowd came rushing forward. As the latter largely outnumbered the former, Ross and the other higher level workers were quickly surrounded by angry workers, yelling unintelligible insults and threats. Ross managed to run off, but saw how the Justice representative was beaten up badly by a few workers, and how others tried to liberate the criminal. As Ross fled to safety, he noted that Security reinforcements were hurrying to the scene of the trial.
The riots lasted for a few hours, and a lot of damage was done. Several official vehicles were overturned and set aflame, and two City Council buildings were completely thrashed. A large number of people were injured, but ultimately Security managed to regain control of the district. Although many of the protesters escaped, a fair number were arrested and sent to prison. No more public trials were organised, as the Council considered a “swift and efficient administrative procedure should temporarily be sufficient in these times of crisis”. The City Council issued a warning that no one was authorised to be out on the streets except for official business, such as going to or returning from work. Any infringement would be punished instantly.
The fear that the riots would spread and the rebels might grab their chance to seize control proved wrong. There were a few more isolated incidents in various districts, even in the women’s quarters, but Security forces managed to re-establish law and order all over the City in a matter of days by brute repression. The Council issued a statement to all citizens, reassuring them that a rebel movement had tried in vain to overthrow the authorities and unleash the reign of chaos, but that there was no danger anymore.
For a few more days an almost tangible tension hung in the air. In the morning, as Ross went out for his first inspection round, he expected to see people out on the streets, ready to wreak havoc, but everything was as it used to be. The City’s Security Forces had demonstrated they had the power to deal with any crisis. The revolution had been nipped in the bud. The City Council was still the supreme ruler of the city, and would evidently remain in power for a long time.
Several days went by and life in the City returned to normal. Grey clouds dominated the sky, and the rain was at a minimal level. Inspection rounds as a rule did not turn up any “invaders”. The food supplies had been cleared of “undesired contaminants” and the rations had been lifted. The only place which still suffered from a food shortage was the overflowing prison, densely overpopulated since the recent events.
No official statements were given about the living conditions in the prison, but from hastily whispered exchanges from colleagues in the Bureau and rumours spread in the Pub, he could puzzle together how the Council must have solved this delicate problem.
Apparently the Council had decided not to raise the total food supply allocated to the Prison. That meant that as the number of convicts swelled exponentially in a matter of days, the amount of food given to each prisoner diminished accordingly. Consequently, the overpopulation problem had ceased to exist as the majority of the convicts or perhaps even all of them had perished for lack of sufficient food and water. Among the higher levels, this was considered an “elegant solution” that had left the City “purified”.
A week went by, without any disruptions of normal life in the City. A fair number of apartments in his district, and probably all over the City, were now uninhabited, which could only mean that those people had been unmasked as subversive elements and sentenced. In the mess-hall where he went to lunch too, there were fewer people than before. It was clear the revolutionary feelings had penetrated into the higher levels as well, an extremely ominous evolution that had fortunately been stopped short.
One morning Ross got up and noticed that a light rainstorm had left its stamp on his district. It was nothing serious, just bits of sand and dirt swept by the wind into corners. Still, he decided to call the Cleaning Squad. After breakfast, he went out to greet the Squad Leader who had just arrived.
“Good morning. I’m glad you came quickly.”
“Good morning, Inspector. What exactly is the problem?”
“Didn’t you take a look around?”
“Yes, but all I saw is a bit of sand here and there. Honestly, Inspector, that doesn’t look like an emergency situation that requires instant action from an entire Cleaning Squad.”
“Just a bit of sand here and there. It may look harmless at this stage, but if more sand and dirt are blown this way, vegetation may start to take root before we realise what’s happening. We cannot take any chances. You know what troubles we’ve recently been through. And you know the City Council’s stance.”
“Yes, of course, Inspector. This City was built for man and for man only. There can be no other living creatures here. Each intrusion of other life-forms is an infection, a menace for man’s survival that should be stamped out. Man is the crown of creation, and the City is his, and his only. We’ve been taught all that, Inspector, as you well know. But this is just a handful of sand. It’s not as if there’s an immediate threat.”
“You appear not completely convinced of the City Council’s views,” Ross said. “That’s not an attitu
de expected from a Squad Leader.”
“Come on, Inspector. You know very well that I’m a dedicated City worker. We’ve known each other for how long now? How many frank and open-minded discussions did we have? And have I ever failed you?”
Ross just shot the man a cold, hard look.
“Do you remember the difficult times we had a few weeks ago?” the Squad Leader continued. “Do you remember how my men worked around the clock until the crisis situation had been completely taken care of? How then can you doubt our commitment?”
“I will not doubt your commitment as soon as you’ve cleaned up the sand and dirt soiling my district,” Ross said. Then he turned away his gaze, making it clear the discussion was closed. The Squad Leader returned to his men and gave them their orders. Moments later his district had been cleared and the Squad left.
When he was at the Bureau to file his report, he let his thoughts roam for a few minutes. Should he mention the Squad Leader had shown some reticence in doing his job, had appeared somewhat doubtful of the City Council’s views? It was true that he had known the man for a long time and that he had a flawless track record. At least, until now. Admittedly, the last few weeks had been harrowing and now that the situation was back to normal, it was perhaps understandable that some people loosened up a bit.
On the other hand, the Council’s views were not open to discussion, and City workers, especially in the higher levels, were supposed to show unswerving support and dedication. This was of utmost importance. Life in the City had been prosperous for as long as most people could remember, and that was largely due to the Council’s uncompromising reign. It was only logical that all the City’s inhabitants, and in particular the higher level workers, would hold the Council in the highest esteem and apply its directives unconditionally. In that respect the Squad Leader had failed. Even if there were extenuating circumstances, there was too much at stake in this post-revolutionary period to allow for any weakness in a higher level worker.
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