The Society Builders

by Anthony Puyo

  “Because I need to work there. Do you remember the first night we met, you mentioned the activist group PAC?”

  “Yes.”

  She peers at me, her big blue eyes focus. I can see she’s starting to figure where this is going.

  “I’m a part of them. I work at Matson because they are our enemy.”

  Myra puts her head down, running one hand with jagged fingers through her hair.

  “I don’t even know what to say to you, Jason. Why do you guys believe my father’s company is the enemy? They have done nothing but enhanced the population’s lives. My father is a good man.”

  “Did you know Matson has been working with the government to make it mandatory to get Adamed and Eved?”

  “That’s crazy, Jason. That would not happen. We are a free choice society.”

  “Are we, Myra? When you say that, do you mean a choice by neglection or threats? Because that’s what they did to me. So why wouldn’t they do that to the rest of the population?”

  I can see a flare of anger in her. “I will talk to my father about that. But these accusations are serious that you are making against him and the company. Do you have any proof?”

  I walk over to her and extend my hands to her shoulders. She moves away, back facing me.

  “I do have proof. But it doesn’t really matter. Come Monday the new law of the land will come into effect. Friends of mine could become hunted. I would like you to ask yourself these questions: Why is having everyone chipped so damn important? And why is your father’s company working with the government’s defense agency?”

  Myra shakes her head like it’s too much to soak in. Her voice shakes with sadness—maybe some disappointment. “Where did you get this information that you feel so confident in sharing it?”

  “There’s a whistleblower in the engineer department. He gave us files that show the collusion with the government. We believe it could be something as simple as being able to watch over the population. That’s why they want everyone to hook to the mainframe. But it could go deeper than that. It’s speculation at this point, but maybe they would like to control the masses. They could sell it as stopping the next David Casper. But they won’t tell you the problems, or the real plans. What if they gain so much power, they begin to rule however they see fit? No more democratic society, but one ruled by a ruling class.”

  She puts the tips of her fingers in her mouth between her teeth, eyes racing back and forth. “No. That’s impossible. I’m going to speak to my father. I’ll want to know everything. I want him to know what Michael did. I’ll bring up your fears.”

  “What about us—are we finished?” I ask.

  She stares at me. “I have a lot to think about, Jason. I don’t know how to answer that right now.”

  “I understand. Will you be telling your father where the information came from?”

  She shakes her head no. “No. But if you’re proven wrong, I think you should leave Matson. I’m sorry for what they did to you, but you could have said no. If you had trusted me earlier, I could’ve helped you.”

  Her words stung like a knife to the chest.

  “I wanted to protect you from this.” I say, desperately hoping she will come into my arms.

  She walks to her door, opening it. She doesn’t even look me in the eye. I walk tread to the exit, stopping in the doorway.

  “I love you, Myra. No matter what happens, none of that is a lie. I know you felt that.”

  She says nothing.

  And I walk out.

  8 Myra

  I can’t lie. Jason’s words hurt. He condemned my father’s company and his vision of oneness. Regardless of what Jason thinks, biotechnology is the future. It’s a good thing. I stand by the words of my father. He only wants to make the world a better place. It is only because I care for Jason that I will bring his paranoid accusations up to my father.

  I’m led to my father’s study by the maid, Agnes. “Just go on in. He’s expecting you.” She says.

  I open the big mahogany colored doors. The first thing I see is the large window, curtain open, behind my father and his desk. He sits, white hair and all, in his suit, talking to someone I can’t quite make out from behind as I walk in. Granted, the doorway is sixty feet back from his desk.

  My father is an older man. Old enough to be my grandfather. There isn’t much to say about that. He was a wealthy man with the confidence to find himself a younger wife. What I will say, is he’s a great dad. He was there when mom passed away. Every step of the way.

  “Darling, what a pleasant surprise.” He says, voice easily carrying over because of the high dome ceiling.

  I stroll around his desk to give him a hug and kiss on his cheek.

  “You know Phil Balock, don’t you?” he extends a hand for me to look.

  How could I not, everyone noticed his arrival and constant hanging around the office. His beady eyes lock onto mine as he gives a short grin.

  “Hello!” I nod, giving just as fake as smile as his grin.

  “Myra, is it?” he stands with a hand out.

  “Don’t bother,” I say kindly. But I know it’s still rude of me to leave the man shaking the wind. That’s not the normal way I respond, even when I am a bit flustered. But something about the man’s existence rubs me the wrong way. I turn to my father. “I need to talk to you, daddy . . . Alone.”

  My father, Henry, gave an apologetic stare towards Phil. “If you could excuse us—”

  “Not a problem, sir.” Phil straightens his black suit coat, giving me one last gaze.

  I don’t like it.

  “Have a good night, Myra.” He half bows, then makes his way out.

  “I’ll get a hold of you tomorrow, Phil.” My dad says to the walking away man. He gets a wave of the backhand in response.

  As the doors close my father speaks. “What brings you here at such an hour? A young woman like yourself should be out enjoying the times.”

  I tuck my wavy hair behind my left ear. “I’ve heard some things about the company and I thought I’d ask you about them.”

  “You have, have you? Well go on and ask away, darling.”

  “I’ve heard there will be announcement come Monday that the Thin Chip will become mandatory throughout the states as well as hooking to the mainframe. Is this true?”

  My father sits back in his chair, hands forming a steeple. He wrinkles his lips tight. “May I ask where you got this information?”

  “It’s just a rumor a friend told me about. Is it more than that?”

  “Darling, Myra, it is true. It’s an idea put forth by myself and other influential people, many who are putting time, ideas, money, to help run the government. The state of the country and the world is not at its best, so we are trying to help as citizens of the world.”

  Jason was right. I can’t believe it. There should be a perfect logical reason for this. “But why the need to force the chip?”

  “Because, it’s needed. The world is under great stress from people who want to destroy it. The violence—the senseless violence that occurs. You’ve seen the manhunt that is going on for this David Casper fellow. If he had been connected to the mainframe, we could have prevented the death of several innocent people.”

  “But father, what you’re proposing is invasive to one’s privacy.”

  He moves up to the desk. “Don’t you think the loss of privacy is a small price to pay for the safety of innocent lives?”

  I don’t want to agree for the sake of Jason, but my father makes a good point. Saving lives is more important than privacy. And I’m sure my father would not put his name on anything that wouldn’t be regulated with the highest of standards.

  “I guess so, Daddy.”

  “That-a-girl. I knew you would understand. Is there anything else I could help you with?”

  I almost said no, but then I remembered. “Did you give Michael the authority to force one of our employees to be Adamed or risk being fired?”


  “I’ve been very busy as of late. I don’t know what has or has not taken place at headquarters. But I have given Michael authority to oversee the company branch. I trust his decision making, Myra. If he did this, I couldn’t say it’s wrong. Because come Monday, this employee you’re mentioning would have had to have gotten the chip anyway.”

  “Yes. But why not wait? Why the rush?”

  “I will have to ask Michael that very question, myself. I promise I will.”

  “Thank you, daddy.”

  I left feeling a little torn with my father’s plan. I agreed that people needed to be protected from themselves, but I also knew this was a very invasive plan. There will be many unhappy people come Monday. I can only stay optimistic. People will see my father’s wonderful technology and vision. They will see how the negatives are small compared to the positives. I wanted to see Jason, talk to him, make him see the light. I truly care for him and I want nothing more than to go further in our budding relationship.

  A Phone Call . . .

  Voice One: “There is a leak coming from the building. Find out where it’s coming from and put a plug in it. Secondly, follow the young man in accounting. I believe your hunch was right about him.

  Voice Two. “I’ve known about the leaker, but he’s been difficult to find. As for the kid, I’m already on it. The young man has been hard to find, but I’m certain he’s against us. Maybe he knows the leaker's identity.”

  Voice One: “Then what’s the problem?”

  Voice Two: “He hates the technology, like his grandmother did. So he rarely logs in to the mainframe. May I have permission to follow your daughter.”

  Voice One: “My daughter? Is she an acquaintance of his?”

  Voice Two: “She is, sir.”

  Voice one: “Well, that’s disappointing. You have permission to follow her, but only till you can track him. And let me make myself clear on this. My daughter is not to be harmed at any cost. Do you understand?”

  Voice Two: “You have my word, sir.”

  9 Jason

  Police Officers no longer exist. What was once police are now called the Authority. Policemen had gotten into too much trouble in the twenty-teens and twenty-twenties and were eventually expelled. They were replaced with a more military grade officer known as the Authority. The men and women who make up this right arm of the law are all former military. They are all chipped as it’s part of the initiation. And everything is recorded through their eyes and can be downloaded via a USB cable that connects to the back of their skull.

  They do not profile or harass. They install order with a simple process. It’s either you're breaking the law or you’re not. Because of the non-profiling and not being proactive in stopping crime before it happens, the punishment for lawbreakers is much more stringent. Violent crime with the use of weapons is not tolerated. If a crime is committed using a weapon, the authority has the right to kill on the spot with no backlash and they are encouraged to. This saves the public billions in extra tax monies.

  I left Myra’s feeling a loss. We had developed something special, something I have never had with anyone. But now I feel I may have damaged it. A part of me feels there was no other choice. What I stand for, my beliefs, would have eventually come out. So maybe it’s better this way. Spare her the pain if she began to feel the way I do. This is going to be very hard to get over, because in my heart I know that I love her.

  I choose to walk, leaving her place in a night time stroll up Fifth Avenue. I notice the black car that I had seen from up in Myra’s apartment. There’s two figures in there. The darkness in the car covers their faces, but the yellow light of the light-pole gives some radiance to a limb and some upper body. Whoever they are, they dress an awful lot like agents.

  The authority does a very good job in moving the homeless away from the wealthier neighborhoods. So with the suspicious car right behind me, I get chills knowing I’m all alone out here. I try not to stare too much behind me till I get in the dark myself.

  Now covered by the shadow of a tree, I gaze back. They’re still there. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but I feel they’re either there for Myra or myself.

  Suddenly, sirens and a loudspeaker storm down from the sky a block away or so. It easily triumphs over the chilly still air. The authority drone repeats the saying several times: Give yourself up, David Casper. There is nowhere to run. The city borders are all surrounded. Give yourself up peacefully and we will not open fire.

  I walk a little faster, keeping my head straight. I figure if I get a little ways down, the car will follow if it’s for me. If it doesn’t, then I can hide and watch to see if they’re are there for Myra. However, I would rather be proven paranoid.

  Soon as I get in the cover of another tree shadow, I duck into a dark space between two two-story single family homes. There I crouch down by some bushes near the edge of the wall. I peer down to where the car is. The headlights turn on and it begins to come up the street slowly. As it approaches me, I get to my stomach. The car drives by slowly, the figures inside search with their heads swiveling to both sides of their shoulders. Who are they? How long have they been tailing me? And for what reason? If they’re from Matson, why do they care what I do; come Monday, they will have won anyway.

  I step back out onto the sidewalk staring towards Myra’s which is about a block away. I see her come out of her condo, and like an alien craft descending from the abyss of the night sky, an unmanned drone taxi lands, picking her up.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket. It’s a text from Rob, my coworker.

  Hey, bud. Haven’t heard from you in a while. Me and

  Dave are at Scorsessi’s if you want to

  show.

  I badly want to spill my guts about everything, but unfortunately, I can’t to those two. Not yet anyway. If it wasn’t for the engineer, I most definitely would. But for his protection, it’s best no one knows anything.

  Though there is an appeal to utilizing my implant, I choose not to get in the habit of using it. I wish to feel as pure as humanly possible. Instead I use my phone to contact a taxi. And for the sakes of replaying everything in my thoughts, I elect to take a wheeled ride for the extra time.

  As we drive by Madison Square Garden, I see tanks, Hummers, drones, and other military vehicles pulling into the place’s large parking lot. There are hundreds of war machines. The men and women of the armed forces are in bunches, walking around, socializing, some going into the building.

  Dread runs through my veins. They’re getting ready and the people don’t even know about it. That was the whole plan. Bring out the new law after they’ve prepared for it. Soon there will be many like Casper. Only they will have not done the horrible things he did, but they would be hunted nonetheless. Myra and the rest of the Adamed and Eved world will feel some heartbreak. However, they will do nothing to stop it. They’ve been brainwashed into thinking it’s for the best. Blind to any danger that we will all be put in.

  I was on my way to Scorsessi’s when a thought entered me. Like many other things that float around in my head, when they hit a nerve of curiosity it’s hard to shake out.

  I speak to the automated woman’s face on the screen behind the driver’s seat.

  “Car, take me to 4425 South Pack Street.”

  “Yes, patron, will do. Reroute in progress.” She says in banal automated fashion.

  Fifteen minutes later the car pulls up to the baby-blue, double story family home. I quickly notice the authority’s car parked across the street.

  I give direction. “Car, go two houses down, please.”

  “Yes, patron, as you wish.”

  As we pass I notice the watchman’s head tilted back against the headrest of his seat. He appears to be asleep. The way the whole department have been searching for Casper, I’m sure many of them are worn.

  I get out, sneaking my way past the yellow tape and through the fence of the backyard. What am I hoping to find, I’m not sure. There’s just something about the cas
e that fascinates the conspiracy part of my brain. I’ve always felt the oddness of the case begged to be scrutinized with open, clear eyes.

  I move through the backyard grass that’s surrounded by a high wooden fence. Leaves from a kind of shrub hang over the edges giving the place a very earthy feel.

  I get to the white colored back door. I gaze over my shoulders to see if anyone is watching. I grab and put on my leather gloves before touching the knob. I turn it, as if it would be unlocked. Of course it’s not. I decide to do the unthinkable, I put a hanky over the glass of the door and elbow it in. The break is light in sound. You’d have to be twenty feet or closer to have heard.

  I stick my arm in and unlock the door. I give one last glance over my shoulders before I move in. It’s only now that I think of the sentence for a break in: ten years no parole. And the fact that this is a crime scene might add an additional five.

  The place has a home like smell to it. Being that David was a bachelor, the place stood empty most of the hours in a day, so this must have preserved the place’s own aroma. There is a hint of something unpleasant in the air, though. It’s faint but I believe there’s rotting fruit nearby. Possibly from a bowl here in the kitchen.

  It’s dark and I consider using my phone but I’m worried it will be seen from the outside. Instead I will just have to be careful, take ginger steps—feel with my hands.

  I move past the kitchen as my vision finally adjusts. From what I can see the place is very tidy. The living room is much the same. Either he just cleaned the day he went on his shooting spree, or he’s just a very neat bachelor. My guess is the latter.

  I ask myself again, what am I hoping to find? Anything of relevance would have surely been picked up by the authorities. I carry on, making my way upstairs figuring his room will be there.