The sensible thing to do would be to reinstate Isis in the histo-lab but what to do with Sati? If she is to remain here, I will have to find a way to prevent her causing further trouble. She will be grateful to me, of course, for not letting her die and, for a while, will conform to my rules, but something more is needed: a project for her to work on. With Sati’s experience of C99, she’d be the ideal person to help me transform our redundant areas into recreational ones. The project would not only keep her busy but also keep her close to me. I could keep my extra eye on her and control any future outbreak of unruly behaviour. I shall warn her that she must learn to keep her sexual activities private – confined to the dormo-cubes. If not, Hugo may get frisky again and next time there will be no antidote forthcoming.
I unlock my workstation drawer, take out the antidote and stride down the silver cylinder to bring Sati back into the land of the living.
Chapter Five
Satiated
(according to Kali)
It is a chastened Sati who accompanies me when I organise the workforce to move the abandoned workstations and stack them in an empty office, Man3. Two of the spare desks are put in Man2 so that Sati and I can work together on the designs for the new facilities without distractions. She shows interest in the project and has come up with some good ideas. It is at her suggestion that we are to have a games room for indoor sports such as darts, table tennis and billiards and it is Sati who persuades Ra to increase the budget substantially to buy gym equipment. He did draw the line at an ice rink. A good decision. Imagine some of our clumsy movers on ice. The mind boggles.
Some of the stronger male humanoids have been detailed to knock down the walls of empty dormo-cubes to make an enlarged area for the proposed gym. They seem to enjoy the physical work, a change from sitting all day at compus.
I do spend part of my time in the centre to make sure everyone not concerned with the renovations keep working as usual, but already there is a better atmosphere. When Sati appears there is a kind of heightened anticipation as if they are all holding their breath, waiting to see what she intends to do next; but Sati doesn’t look at anybody. She has stopped flirting. For the time being.
At night I hear movements, whispers and little gasps and sighs in the adjacent cube to mine as Sati indulges in “love-sex.” I don’t comment or make a fuss. At least she is being discreet.
What does concern me is that many of my colleagues no longer communicate with their previous sex-partners and there are tight lips, expressions of disgust, jealousy and suppressed anger on many faces. Emotions are running high and all too often the quality of work is affected. Documents prepared by one mutant are scrambled or deleted by another. Input to Worldwideculture.inc is deteriorating and it’s my job to address the problem. Is Sati the cause of this breakdown of team spirit?
Mercury, as always my source of office news, tells me that everyone is vying for Sati’s attention, anxious to be next in her bunku.
I have noticed that both males and females have taken to adding colourful accessories to their basic dark blue monos, a bow or a scarf, a kind of sexual preening.
‘They all resent the fact that she sleeps with some mutants more often than others,’ Mercury informs me. ‘Jason seems to be the favourite and does he know it. He swaggers about a lot, proud of his status as Number 1. The others hate him. Those keen to take part in her love-sex sessions do eventually get a turn. Sati seems insatiable.’
‘At least it’s behind closed doors. Not in public.’
‘Sometimes she takes two or three to her bunku at the same time, especially ex-couples. I know for a fact that Serena and Apollo were there last night. Look at their faces. They can’t look each other in the eye today.’
‘Are you saying I should do something about it?’
‘You could have a word with her but I doubt it will make any difference. She only thinks of herself and, in my opinion, she enjoys being disruptive.’
My little Mercury is very perceptive. My influence. I’ve taught him to be a good judge of character. I take advantage of the time Sati and I spend together in Man2 to ask, as casually as I can, how she thinks she is getting on with her colleagues.
She gives me an odd look from under those long lashes. ‘I’m getting on with them very well indeed, thank you. Giving them the experience of a lifetime actually.’
‘You think they are happy?’
‘Deliriously happy.’
‘It seems to me that some of them look a bit down.’
She shrugs. ‘Not my fault. They’re so possessive. It’s ridiculous. Once they realise that there’s plenty of love-sex for everyone they will begin to enjoy it more. Not just with me. Good Zeus no. Even I have my limits.’
She gives me a shrewd look, wondering how much to tell me, how much I already know. ‘That’s why I often invite several of them at the same time, males and females. To show them that it’s fine to have love-sex with different partners, that’s there’s no need for secrecy. Or jealousy.’
I think about the whispers I hear through the wall of her dormo-cube. Could it be that these conversations are concerned with something more sinister than love-sex?
‘I’m not sure your strategy is working, Sati. It’s seems to me that every day there is more bad feeling in the compu-centre.’
‘Then I must re-think my “strategy” – as you call it.’
‘Something has to change because, quite frankly, it’s beginning to affect everyone’s work.’
‘Oh work. That’s all you think about.’
‘We have to keep on target. When we’ve finished the renovation of the sectoid there will be plenty of opportunities to relax.’
Sati smiles and keeps her head down over the sketch of the games room she is designing. I can’t help wondering what goes on in her pretty little heads. That she’s manipulative and enjoys power as much as I do, I am beginning to understand. The difference is that I’m working for the good of the company, to make a better life for all of us all, while she’s working for her own gratification.
One morning we all receive memos from Ra to attend a presentation in the RR. There is nothing unusual in this. These motivational presentations take place on the big screens about twice a month. Just before the allotted time, 11 o’clock, the employees start assembling. Normally they appear in twos to show off new couplings or confirm relationships. This time, there are fewer couples. Instead small groups of the same gender or lone individuals enter through the sliding walls. Jason rolls in on his own but without his usual swagger. Apollo seems to take up a lot of space with his awkward stumpy three-legged gait. A group of ungainly females push their way in. Mercury flits about, guiding his colleagues to their preferred shapers like an old-time cinema usher. There is much hesitation about where to sit, a clumsy jockeying for position, an anxiety about landing up next to the wrong mutant.
I take my place at the back of the room, Sati at my side. We choose to stand. I look around making sure everything is going smoothly. Mercury gives me a nod. Sati leans against the back wall, eyes half closed as if nothing or no one in the world could disturb her. I have a feeling she is biding her time.
Odysseus glides in, his triangular head held high. Following him comes moonfaced Isis with her uncoordinated walk, her little arm swinging in front of her like a fashion accessory. The two of them make their way to the front of the RR and sit together on a double-shaper. I glance at Sati. Her expression does not change.
The presentation begins. Ra’s voice reminds us of the purpose of our work: recording the past: planning the future. There’s nothing new in his speech, nothing to enlighten us about the nature of that future.
A series of images float by. The Dubai skyline with the Burj Al Arab tower that resembles the sail of a dhow is lit up in ever-changing colours against the night sky. Does this luxurious hotel still exist or is it an emblem of past architectural achievement, already defunct like older antiquities such as the Brandenburg Gate and the Tower of London?
We have no way of knowing. Also in Dubai they show us the island in the shape of a palm tree built because everyone wanted an apartment with a waterside view: an example of capitalist greed. It’s an unkind image to show us, imprisoned as we are in a building without windows. Another city of elaborate palaces coasts by. Abu Dhabi, Doha, Marrakech? Or are they hotels built in the style of palaces? Again we have little sense of period, no indication of what exists now or what has been lost.
It’s the same with the images of artwork that follow. Pictures of the old masters are superimposed with modernist, post-modern and ultra-modern paintings and sculptures. Time and space have been fused. It occurs to me that this mishmash of periods and styles might be deliberate, that we are being bombarded with a hotchpotch of images to blur our vision of what is real and what is not. Or maybe the disorientation is not conscious. Maybe the filmogram-makers themselves are ignorant of the distinction between past, present and future. I wonder what Odysseus makes of these images.
Ra appears on the screen, or at least the top part of him, his tree trunk of a neck supporting his huge central head and the two smaller ones either side, one male, one female. Has anyone seen the rest of his body? The voice from the main head booms out. He gives us praise for the important cultural work we are doing. The names of no individual mutant humanoids are singled out but one or two compounds are credited with particular success. Not ours. Not C55.
I note that Sati’s previous location, C99, receives several accolades, maybe proof that enriched leisure facilities do lead to improved creativity. A series of paintings, poems, extracts from fiction follow, snatches of musical compositions and a glimpse of designs for new buildings and machines, all computer generated.
‘This is your culture,’ Ra tells us, ‘your contribution to the long tradition of creative activities already recorded by Worldwideculture.inc. Keep up the good work.’
As suddenly as he appeared, he has gone, the presentation over. My colleagues begin to stand up and shuffle out. They don’t get far.
The wall slides open and the dark shape of a huge mutant humanoid with three long muscular legs blocks their way.
A squeal from Isis and she runs, legs and arms askew, towards the figure silhouetted in the entrance of the RR, gives an almighty leap, clasps her arms round his neck and locks her legs round his waist.
‘Heracles,’ she breathes. ‘You’ve come back to me. Thank God you’re alive.’
He attempts to release himself from her embrace. ‘No,’ he says. ‘No. I haven’t come back for you. I’m here to take Sati home.’
Isis lets out a huge wail. ‘Sati? What have you got to do with Sati?’
He doesn’t answer but looks over her shoulder, scanning the RR, pushing Isis away from him.
Isis clings on to Heracles. He tries to prise her hands, arms and legs from their grip on his body. She makes a fist at the end of her short spare arm and pummels his chest. He manages to yank her arms and legs away and give her a push. She trips over and falls on the floor at his feet. Heracles steps over her and strides with his three-legged athlete’s roll towards the back of the RR where Sati and I are standing.
Out of my extra eye I see Odysseus go over to Isis and help her up. Good old humanoid. She resists a bit, waving her arms about, but he manages to get her on her feet. She rants at him, tells him to leave her alone and tries to break free, but Odysseus holds her arm firmly and speaks quietly in her ear. She leaves, sobbing, holding on to Odysseus. Really. The girl has no sense of propriety. None at all.
Sati doesn’t look at all pleased to see Heracles. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she asks, in a voice loud enough for everyone in the RR to hear. Now Isis has gone the focus is on Heracles and Sati. There are a few exchanged looks, but everyone is quiet, not wanting to miss the next part of the drama.
‘I’ve come to take you home,’ he says. He puts his arm round her – or tries to.
She shakes him off. ‘I’m not going anywhere. And certainly not with you.’
I realise that I will have to deal with this situation before it gets out of hand, but not in front of the entire workforce. I order the would-be-spectators to go back to their workstations. For an awful moment I think they are going to defy me, but they do go, albeit reluctantly. Jason and Apollo glare at Heracles as they pass, but no words are exchanged, perhaps because my precious pets are hissing in anticipation of further action.
After everyone has dispersed, I tell Heracles to come with me to Man1 for a private chat.
‘What about Sati?’ asks Heracles.
‘She’ll be working next door in Man2 drawing up plans to renovate this compound.’
‘Is that why you don’t want to come with me?’ Heracles asks Sati. ‘Because you are doing something useful here?’
She shrugs. ‘I told you I don’t want to go anywhere with you.’
He looks puzzled and moves close to her. ‘How can you say that when you know how good we were together.’
She shrugs again. ‘Good? Love-sex is always good, who ever I’m with. I’ve moved on.’
‘It was special with us,’ insists Heracles. ‘You know it was.’
‘It may have been special for you,’ she says, ‘For me it was normal.’ She turns her back on him and trips her way down the silver passage to Man2.
I take Heracles by the arm and hustle him down the same corridor, passed Sati’s closed door to Man1. I sit behind the huge workstation and motion for Heracles to sit on the shaper facing me.
‘What’s going on?’ I ask him.
‘I’m in love with Sati.’
‘You and how many others,’ I say dryly.
‘It was different with Sati and me. We made love and it was like nothing I’ve ever known before.’
That’s one in the eye for Isis, I think. Thank Zeus I didn’t sleep with him.
He has the grace to apologise. ‘Sorry, Kali, but you know it could never have worked for us. You thought more of your job, of your position in the company, than you did of me.’
I choose to ignore that remark. ‘Tell me, how did you survive in the wilderness?’
He looks puzzled. ‘I’ve never been there.’
‘You must have been. When you were fired.’
He throws back his head and laughs. ‘Come off it, Kali. I wasn’t fired. Ra wasn’t going to send a brilliant young humanoid like me into the wilderness. He saw my potential and decided to keep me for himself. Teleported me straight to C99.’
‘Ah, I see. That’s where you met Sati and fell in love.’ I can’t help the sarcasm.
Heracles leans forward, his eyes aflame. ‘You can’t imagine what it was like. Electric! Sparks flying between us. Really. I couldn’t get enough of her. Or she of me. We spent every night together and, whenever we could manage it, the daytime too.’
‘And she was faithful to you? That doesn’t sound like Sati.’
‘I tell you it was something else. Totally special. Two whole weeks in paradise.’
‘Perhaps that’s why Ra sent her away. Too much love-sex, not enough work.’
‘You would think that. I don’t know why she was transferred but I think Athene had something to do with it.’
‘Sati mentioned Athene. Who is she?’
‘A stuck up bitch who thinks she’s better than everyone else. She’s beautiful, I’ll give her that, but manipulative. Very. She’s inveigled her way into Ra’s good books.’ He leans back again. ‘Or perhaps Ra sent Sati away because he fancied her himself and when he saw she was with me couldn’t take the competition.’
Just the sort of immature remark Heracles would make.
‘I doubt it was personal,’ I tell him. ‘After all, he’s sent you to bring her back.’
‘Ah, well, actually,’ Heracles grins. ‘Ra doesn’t know I’m here.’
I frown. ‘Ra didn’t send you?’
‘Good Zeus, no. I teleported myself here. You see, when she’d gone I spent all my free time searching for her – that’s how I knew
it must be love.’
He leans forward and frowns.
‘But it wasn’t that easy. Even using the top of the range compus at C99, some data is censored.’
He explains that he had to hack into blocked sites to find the co-ordinates for each compound and to decode the teleport links. ‘Not easy – even for me. That’s why it’s taken so long. Bit of a shock to discover she was here in my old compound, I can tell you. Poor Sati, I thought, she’ll be bored out of her two little heads. Look, Kali, you’ve got to help me. For old time’s sake. Help me persuade Sati to come with me. I’ve got to get back quickly – before Ra realises I’ve gone.’
I shake my head. For someone who rates himself so highly, he’s been pretty stupid. ‘Tell me about C99. Is it as fabulous as Sati says it is?’
‘It’s certainly better equipped than this compound. It’s the flagship, you see. The showcase.’
‘No, I don’t see. The flagship for what?’
‘I really don’t know. Can I see Sati now?’
‘You say you’re a good researcher and a good hacker but you don’t know much.’
‘I’ve been concentrating on trying to trace Sati. I didn’t have time to do much else.’
‘Oh, Heracles, what a big disappointment to me you are.’
He has no idea what I’m talking about. With access to high tech auto-puts and his superior compu skills, he had the opportunity to find out if the wilderness is still polluted and, if not, why we mutant humanoids are still living in these compounds and to discover who put us here in the first place. So much research he could have done, but he wasted his time looking for Sati.
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