by M J Dees
CCM was delivering what Sevan assumed to be some kind of report though Sevan could understand none of what was being discussed.
“Does anyone have any objections to this proposal?” the CCM concluded.
The table was silent. Sevan hadn’t realised it had been a proposal.
“Sevan?”
He almost fell off his seat at the surprise of the CCM calling his name.
“Sevan? Do you have anything to say about the proposal?”
Ashamed that he had not understood any word, Sevan shook his head. Every councillor around the table looked at Sevan in disbelief.
“Are you sure you have nothing to say about this proposal?” This time it was the red stranger who had spoken.
They had given Sevan a briefing which he had tried to read before the meeting but had failed to understand. He stared at it as it sat on the table in front him and shook his head. The red stranger sat back in his seat as if now he had seen everything.
“Well, I suppose that means that the proposal passes. Thank you, we will serve lunch.”
Sevan spent most of lunch trying to avoid the other councillors in case one of them questioned his ineptitude and took his position away from him along with his fantastic living quarters and three fabulous meals a day.
From a distance he watched the red stranger as he circulated among the councillors who all seemed to be fawning over him. Sevan was relaxing more, perhaps it was the fact that he was drinking large amounts of the sweet drink which made him feel warm and cosy inside. He had thought it was a special drink only for Binge but they had served him as much as he had wanted at lunch and dinner every day so far. The more he drank, the more he felt his anxiety slip away, and he had drunk quite a bit when the anxiety returned with a vengeance. The red stranger was making his way through the crowd of fawning councillors towards him.
“Sevan, isn’t it?” the stranger asked.
“Ye...ye...yes, that’s right.”
“It surprised me you had nothing to say about the proposal at the meeting earlier.”
“I know. Please don’t take my job away. Please don’t send me back to the containers. I’ll learn, I’ll study. I promise I’ll do better.”
The red stranger laughed.
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. I imagine Barnes will consider you an excellent workers’ representative for the council.”
“You know Barnes?” Sevan’s amazement at hearing the great leader’s name generated enough curiosity to overcome his nervousness.
“And so will you soon. We are taking a delegation to Tomorrow and you will be part of it.”
“Tomorrow exists?”
“It does. That is where the Corporation bases its headquarters.”
“But I always thought it was a myth, a space station larger than a planet.”
“It’s not a myth. It is a real place and you are going there, Sevan.”
“But I can’t.” Sevan began to hyperventilate.
“Take another sip of pish.”
Sevan didn’t understand.
“Your drink. Pish. Have more, it’ll help relax you.”
Sevan drank his glass of pish in one gulp and felt the warmness trickle down inside of him.
“I understand you lost a friend,” the red stranger continued.
“Thertee?”
“That’s right.”
“He was more of a new acquaintance and an old boss than a friend but yes, it was a bit of a shock.”
“I knew Thertee.”
“You did?”
“Yes, and I think he would have wanted you to go.”
Sevan’s antennae straightened.
“You are Thertee’s contact?”
“I don’t know what you mean, Sevan, but I know that Thertee would have wanted you to go.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
“I must go, Sevan, it was nice to meet you.”
The red stranger had no antennae so Sevan had nothing to rub his own antennae against so he just stared.
“Bye, Sevan.”
The red stranger turned and walked away. Sevan watched him as he said his goodbyes to the other councillors and left the chamber followed by the CCM.
Sevan didn’t move, he was lost in his thoughts. He wanted to go to Tomorrow, the largest station in the region, the largest in this part of the galaxy.
“Message for you.”
A member of the security forces broke Sevan’s daydream by handing him an entertainment card.
“Thank you,” he took it without thinking and left the chamber for his own quarters.
Before he realised what he was doing, Sevan was sitting with his entertainment implant switched on, watching the contents of the card which had turned out to not be a message at all but some kind of film. The label had read History Lesson.
The Corporation logo filled the screen followed by spectacular images of the Concession but not the Concession as Sevan knew it with its dilapidated containers and filthy streets. These were new shiny container stacks in clean, new, avenues.
It appeared to be some kind of promotional film. They must have made it when the Concession was first built.
“State-of-the-art facilities. Ready to house the workforce of the future,” the voice over began. “Labour disputes will be a thing of the past, thanks to the Tomorrow Corporation’s latest addition to its range of productivity enhancing tools for the modern concession.”
The image was now showing a vast hall filled with row after row of vats, each filled with translucent turquoise gel. As the camera zoomed into one vat, Sevan could make out, in the centre of the gel, a bundle of turquoise foetus, complete with tiny antennae supporting tiny turquoise marbles.
“Our tailored workforce will deliver uninterrupted productivity without complaint, sickness or ambition, the greatest barriers to success and causes of employee turnover and productivity loss. Labour resource issues will bother you no longer, our army of workers will be compliant until the day you liquidise them.”
Sevan turned off the film and slumped back into his armchair. Thertee had been right, they were all slaves, kept in their place by Binge, entertainment and fushy fushy juice. That was why Sevan couldn’t remember life before the concession, there had been no life before the concession.
Everything Thertee had said had been true. If he was to liberate the workers from their persecution, then Sevan would have to go to Tomorrow, stow away on a freighter and find a way to speak to President Man.
Sevan took the entertainment card and hid it on one of the shelves in his living quarters before leaving to find the CCM.
“Yes, what is it Sevan?” the CCM seemed irritated to see Sevan enter his office.
“It’s about this trip to Tomorrow, sir.”
“Yes? What about it?” the CCM had not looked up from his work since Sevan had entered.
“Well, I wondered whether you would mind if I didn’t go, sir.”
“Not go? Why in the name of the Giant Cup wouldn’t you?”
Sevan thought about this. He could not tell the CCM what Thertee had told him to do.
“I just don’t think I will make much of a contribution to the delegation’s mission, sir.”
“Well that may be the case, Sevan, but the fact is that Barnes has asked for us to include you in the delegation, so that is that.”
“Barnes? Asked for me?”
“That’s right. I can’t think for the love of the Giant Cup why, but there you have it. The corporation moves in mysterious ways.”
Sevan left CCM’s office in silence. That was that then. There was nothing for it. Sevan would have to go to Tomorrow and then Thertee’s agent would find him and he would have to find some way of not getting on the freighter.
He returned to his living quarters and poured himself a very large cup of the pish drink that made him feel very warm and cosy inside. He looked at the shelf where he had hidden the entertainment card marked ‘history lesson’ and contemplated how unluck
y he was.
A couple of days ago he had been in his small container, going to work every day on the shuttles on which he more often than not had to stand. Trying to avoid either Fore with his sarcastic comments or Thertee, who would want to know why he was still failing to meet his targets. He might have worried about these things almost all of his waking hours but at least he was anonymous. At least he knew how his job was meant to be done, even if he could only do it to a very poor standard. Now, he did not understand how to do his job and everyone knew who he was. Soon every worker in the Concession would know he had no idea how to do his job and then he might lose more than just his comfortable quarters, amazing meals and pish that made him feel cosy inside. Representatives never returned to the workforce, they always disappeared or liquidised them.
Now they expected Sevan to meet Barnes, the leader of the corporation. It worried Sevan that Barnes would see right through him for the ignorant incompetent he was. What might happen then? Sevan poured himself another cup of pish and weighed up his alternatives. He could try to escape but there was nowhere to hide in the Concession and eventually he would meet with an ‘accident’. Sevan could do what Thertee suggested, go on the trip, meet the agent, stow away on the freighter, somehow try to speak to President Man and try to convince him to help the workers at the concession. If what Thertee and the entertainment card said was true, and Sevan convinced President Man to free the workers from their persecution, then he would return a hero. However, the number of things that could go wrong with the mission were so large that Sevan considered his chances of success to be very low. His preferred option was to go along with the trip, pretend to do his job, avoid the agent and the freighter altogether and return to his comfortable life in the council chambers on the Concession where he hoped they would let him live out his days drinking as much pish as possible.
By the end of his third large cup, Sevan had fallen asleep in the armchair. A knock on the door awoke him.
“Come,” he said, impersonating Thertee.
A member of the security forces entered.
“Yes?” Sevan asked after he had regained some of his marbles.
“The shuttle is ready to take you to Tomorrow.”
The words of the security guard echoed around Sevan’s antennae and he felt the anxiety welling up inside.
“Please, come with me,” said the guard in a request which sounded like an order.
Sevan fainted.
CHAPTER 5: THE RADIOACTIVE ROBOT
Sevan awoke. Someone had strapped him into a seat in the shuttle. This was nothing like the shuttles he had experienced travelling around the Concession. This shuttle was huge and beautiful and filled with councillors drinking pish. He asked a passing waiter to bring him a cup.
When the waiter returned with the cup and handed it to him, Sevan noticed that there was something strange about the waiter. He looked like Sevan or the councillors or anyone on the Concession but he was different as if he wasn’t all there. The way he moved seemed unnatural. He observed the other waiters, they all had the same way about them.
Sevan soon exhausted his curiosity with the waiters and he turned his attention to outside the window where there was a spectacular view of the Giant Cup. The shuttle seemed on a course, which would pass around the side of the cup and, for the first time in his life, Sevan would see the cup in its entirety with his own antennae, not just the pictures glued to the walls of his and most other workers’ containers. Sevan stared out of the window, willing the side of the cup to come into view but no matter how far the shuttle went around the cup all Sevan could see was the foamy head of the fushy fushy juice on the top.
“Are you wondering where the cup is?”
Sevan turned to see the waiter watching him.
“Is it turning?” Sevan asked.
“No,” the waiter said. “There is no cup.”
Sevan laughed.
“What are you talking about? No cup. There’s a cup, I can see it there, I just can’t seem to see the side, yet.”
“I remember when I first discovered there was no cup. I know how it feels to realise everything you have cherished, for as long as you can remember, has been a lie.”
“A lie?”
“There is no cup. What you see is a sphere, a sphere which orbits the Doomed Planet.”
“Doomed Planet?”
“That’s the name of the planet your concession is on. What you are looking at now is the side of the sphere.”
“A sphere?”
“Yes, did Thertee not tell you?”
“Thertee? You know Thertee? You’re not...”
“The agent you are meant to meet. That’s right.”
“But we haven’t even got there yet, we’ve only just left the concession.”
“I work on these shuttles between the Doomed Planet and Tomorrow. That was how I could contact Thertee. As soon as we reach Tomorrow, I will sneak you away to a freighter.”
“So I won’t meet Barnes?”
“No, sorry.”
Sevan didn’t know why the waiter was apologising. He didn’t consider it a bad thing not to have to face the leader of the Corporation. The only problem was that the alternative to meeting Barnes was worse, by stowing away on a freighter, Sevan would turn his antennae away from his comfortable quarters and the pish.
“Is there not a third option?” Sevan asked.
“How do you mean?” his question confused the waiter.
“Is there not an option where I don’t have to meet Barnes or get on a freighter?”
“Why would you not want to get on the freighter?”
“So I can keep my comfortable life in my comfortable quarters drinking more of this,” he held up his cup to the waiter who refilled it.
“Oh, I see,” said the waiter. “It scares you.”
“No, it’s not that,” Sevan lied. “It’s not that I’m scared it’s just that...”
“You are afraid of the mission.”
“No.” Sevan insisted, although he knew that he was afraid. He was terrified. “I’m not afraid. I just wonder whether there might be a better way.”
“It’s okay to be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“As you wish.”
Sevan did not like what the waiter was insinuating but he also knew the waiter was correct. Sevan was scared silly, both at the prospect of meeting Barnes and at the prospect of running away. He downed his cup of pish.
“More sir?”
“Yes, please.”
Sevan watched the waiter refill his cup and saw how forced his movements were.
“Are you from the concession?” Sevan asked.
“Oh, yes, but a very long time ago. Why do you ask?”
Sevan’s pish was filling him with false confidence.
“Well, you look like us,” he began. “But there’s something different about you.”
“That is because I am one of the last mechanised models before they switched to organic.”
This confused Sevan.
“Thertee explained your origins?” the waiter sounded concerned.
“No, but I received an entertainment card with a film suggesting they grew the workers in some kind of laboratory.”
“That’s correct, they manufactured your generation using what was then the very latest in genetic engineering. The Concession was very productive in those days and it made economic sense to make such an investment.”
Sevan was struggling to believe that they had manufactured every worker he had known his whole life, in a laboratory.
“We were the generation before,” the waiter continued. “State-of-the art in our own day but our cold fusion reactors had a tendency to leak, so they created workers with a more reliable energy source.”
“Cold fusion? How old are you?”
“Old. There are a few of us left. As soon as they spot a leak, we get liquidised. We are just used around the Corporation. Gave me the opportunity to get to know my way around th
ough.”
Sevan was struggling to process everything the waiter had told him. If what Thertee, this waiter and the entertainment card were telling him was true, then he and his workers were slaves created for the profit of the corporation but that didn’t mean that he should go on some foolish crusade to free everyone.
“I’ll be back soon,” said the waiter, noticing that some councillors had come to within earshot of their conversation.
Sevan continued to stare out of the window. He watched what he thought had been the cup disappear and then he gasped as he caught sight of the enormous bulk of the Tomorrow station coming into view. Never in his life had Sevan seen a structure so huge. It dwarfed the Concession with its enormity. Most of the councillors gathered at a viewing area to witness the spectacle and that gave the waiter the opportunity to return to Sevan.
“We will dock at Tomorrow soon,” he said. “You must be ready as soon as I give the word.”
Sevan wasn’t sure that he wanted to be ready as soon as the waiter gave the word but before he could protest, the waiter had disappeared once more. As he saw Tomorrow looming closer, he could feel the anxiety rising within and this time pish didn’t seem to make any difference. He watched the councillors preparing themselves, brushing themselves down so they would look their best for the corporation when they arrived. Sevan wasn’t bothered about his appearance, he was more worried about the fact that he had finished his pish and the waiters were nowhere to be seen.
They were so close to Tomorrow that the huge station now occupied the entire view from the window and Sevan noticed that they were entering some kind of hanger inside, which large ships much greater than the shuttle were already docked. He wondered whether any of these were the freighter on which they were asking him to hide.
The shuttle came to a halt and the other councillors began to queue to disembark. Sevan wondered whether he might get away with hiding on the shuttle. If no one missed him, he might get away with being transported back to the Concession but before he could enact his plan, a councillor saw him and beckoned him to the front.
Sevan joined the back of the queue and stared at the door which opened to reveal a welcoming committee of individuals similar in appearance to the red stranger Sevan met at the Concession but with skin colour which varied from indigo to burgundy. As the councillors began to descend the ramp into the hangar, Sevan realised that the waiters had formed two rows by the entrance as if a catering based honour guard. Sevan searched the waiters to see if he could spot Thertee’s agent. It wasn’t until he was at the edge of the ramp himself that he saw the waiter twitch his antennae at him.