Immediately following the initial handwritten note and for the next few evenings, his heart, his emotions, and his mind spun out of control as he visualized, dreamed, and mused on potential outcomes for this potential relationship. His spirit soared on the winds of anticipated acceptance and was perhaps motivated by a bit of Ornful desire for something he wanted more than a conversation. This desire was rapidly growing into a burning need, a longing, aching need for more than just that note. This was the primary reason he had overcome his usual doubts and gotten up the courage to ask her to accept a chat relationship. It had been easy enough to ask Selfie to locate her in the Productzen database. He had even stalked her profile on the Nnect corporate server—a bit illegal. A relationship with a person like this would elevate his own profile image because of how beautifully objectifiable she was. She was stunning on the outside, and her career as a trainer made her equally desirable on the inside—all over, really. And David loved that. She must be smart; after all, she worked for the Thrive Upbringing Division. So David sat at the café checking his messages.
Today’s break gave David an entire afternoon to pursue his new obsession. It was exciting, and a first with a fellow Productzen for David. He had experienced only one awful Orns experience in his past but had never attempted teeing up a Major’s product. Since his youth, David had always believed in and followed the Ideal Path. The Ideal Path for relationships involved a teeing-up approach. It was similar to his saving mentality: the teeing-up approach meant that you were allowed and encouraged to set up entry-level relationships with branded individuals. This relationship could mean a lot of different things in this world of Xchange but usually involved online chats and mutual social media posts. The legal limit to teeing up was not to take it too far—nothing physical or intimate was allowed. This was drilled into society through many product improvement seminars. Paying humans could step over the line in the Orns World, or even a bit in Tertain’s 3D Real World, but not in normal life. In your productive years, you did not want to waste time on anything that would hinder your contribution to society. Marriage, serious relationships, and families were a privilege, a right, and a reward for free people only. Happiness was the key, David knew. When you bought your freedom, then you could invest in a marriage and a family, but until then you could only flirt and pretend and hope and dream and “tee up” relationships. Online dating and chatting and even PPRE were all ways to accomplish this teeing up. It helped create and maintain a respectable work-life balance.
“Work-life balance is what it’s all about.” David smiled as he remembered a particularly comical tutor in fiscal studies from the Upbringing program.
He also vividly and regretfully remembered when a female stock mate, who had been secretly practicing writing, had written him a note asking him to go on a date in the ninja warrior agility training room. Her name had been Angela, and she had been stunning.
It was year sixteen, the year before graduation, and the class had been learning about the Ideal Path. The note had arrived in a small sealed homework folder; David had not seen the note until later in the evening. He had been shocked. He had spent all night staring at Angela’s Selfie and asking himself if it was good timing. He had had an experience of Ornful desire and soiled himself. The Ornful self-pleasuring was a tease, but still he had continued to stare at her Selfie. Of course, it had all been out of line, and he had felt dirty. Guilt at participating in an illegal relationship had tortured his mind and given him cold sweats randomly throughout the entire week.
That week the young David had more sexual motivations in regard to Angela, and they had tempted him frequently. In a lecture on sex drive, the young class had learned about where babies came from. They had watched flashy tutorials on what an “old-school family unit” was and how it built up society. They had learned about sex and inner motivators. They had learned about what products were available to Productzens and what was available to S-Pees and what was available to the jobless. If you needed sexual release, you paid for it at Orns. If you wanted to meaningfully tee up a relationship, then you should use Nnect dating sites and such. The class had been taught that if this area of one’s life got out of control, one could lose everything.
Sitting in that classroom, David had committed himself to following the Ideal Path; he would tee up a relationship when he was financially ready to handle it. Then he could transition the relationship to a real family life. All in its time, his teacher had wisely said.
Well, the ideal was all well and good until he had been approached by Angela in person the day after the letter. They had flirted a lot. He had loved every moment of it. When a couple of his training mates had found out about the flirting, they jealously encouraged and aided his fraternizing with the goal of getting him caught. So it had continued. Flirting is Ornfully blissful. He had never kissed or done more than that; he thanked the stock that he hadn’t crossed too many lines, because the punishment would have been even worse. They had cuddled once. That was what it was called in the Orns relationship product guide, anyway. The light glistening in her hair and the touch of her skin had enflamed something deep within him. And then it had been taken away. The original convicting piece of white paper with the innocent scribbles on its surface had turned up on a disciplinarian’s desk. They had been punished and separated to different class units. After a year on the strict obedience watch list, David never did that again. David still had cold sweats when he thought about the officers who had beaten the Ideal Path into him. David had vowed to follow his conscience from then on.
The shame, humiliation, regret, and loss had rocked his core. The worst part about it was that she was later sent to modeling internships, and he saw her occasionally on advertisements. She was popular and out of reach. It was torture, seeing someone he still liked but who was untouchable. He would never forget Angela.
David could now understand to a deeper degree the lessons that this experience had revealed. “The Angela incident,” as Mind Doc Gus explained, “highlights your tendency to put your ‘heart on your sleeve’ without thought. This is a dangerous, passionate approach to life and can lead to trouble with the law.” David knew Doc Gus was correct. He did tend to jump way ahead with his feelings before he should. He had also learned from the experience that he did not enjoy correction. It was easier to listen to authorities and stay in line. Life was cleaner, less risky that way.
But now it was time to get into a relationship. David was a hardened corporate engineer, and it was time to try. David was decided. Classmates and teachers could not stop him. “Unfortunately Gayle can stop us, it seems.” David mused.
Social shopping, work, and Medieval Storyworld memberships only satisfied one facet of his relationship needs. “Is it always this intimidating when you ask a person to tee up with you?” David said to no one in particular, leaning back on the plush leather seat. He sang to himself a motivational song, one that was frequently sung after a Mindmonk mindfulness sermon. Something along the lines of “The human stock is good on a day like today when I met you, you look even better than I look. Let’s look good together. Let’s be together. Add me on your messenger, please, oh won’t you, please. I think I love you, please.” It was sung to the tune of “It’s a Mighty Human Fortress We Build.”
The nocturnal sci-fi room was filled with glowing personal projector stations; customers were cocooned comfortably in neon leather buckets. Ironically, separation was often the cost of connection, but such was the reality. “Can’t be hung up on the cons,” David quipped. And so it was the case here: in a raucous room jam-packed with people, the only interpersonal interactions happened during the purchase of food or technical assistance from an employee. The paying customers were “plugged in” and were busy connecting remotely with others. Human minds often juggled the benefits of exterior physical interactions with the subtler interior needs of emotional and online relationships. Some connections were worth more than others, and the market always found an equilibrium. Sleek and r
obotic Nnect sound-isolator headbands shielded customers from distractions. Ssential finger foods and drink products were available for sale. A popular choice was the green Addict Coffee; the enticing scent wafted around the café. White clothing and surfaces glowed under black lights, making the people in the room appear like glowworms on the roof of some buried underground cavern. When customers marched into the café, they could choose between seats in the chat room isolation booths or stools at the communal food bar. Commonly, the tall, comfortable stools at the communal food bar spun uselessly, empty, but the glowing individual chat room booths were blinking and full of life.
The Mega Consumption Mall was a strict tolerance-enforced zone, which allowed all brands of people to consume equally. Included under the umbrella of equality were Productzens, high-up Orns employees, and freemen—who made up the productive piece of society. This tolerance clause most obviously did not include the lower crust of society. Concise and concrete Quality Control Enforcement edicts posted the types of people that were allowed to enter the MCM, delegating clear physical characteristics that distinguished people. Occasionally a dirty jobless, with the gray Orns “Reject X” on their arm, was dragged out by a pristinely dressed QC official and thrown into a waiting Orns recycling dumpster that loitered on its hover tracks. David hardly noticed these things because he looked away. It was all part of a healthy society.
At an MCM, one could eat Ssential foods while drinking Thrive Energy Coffee. One could connect on a Nnect chat station while watching Orns or Tertain shows. MCMs were a huge step by humanity toward inclusiveness, harmony, and unity. Utopia realized.
“I wish I were them,” David said in a romanticized tone as he stared at the intimidating likenesses of two famous Nnect managers, Crystal Ice and Steven Slayer. The Refuel Café had been the idea of these rising stars in Nnect. “Industry game changers.” David blessed himself with the sign of the X. Steve and Crystal had transformed these locals from food spots into cafeteria connection hubs. The success of these refueling chat stations continued to inspire hundreds of initiatives.
David decided to video blog and post on his selfie portfolio while he waited for further remarks from Gayle. “A quality portfolio isn’t built in a day.” David remarked. An active online presence was important. He clicked the device on his wrist. The camera on his wrist filmed and uploaded his video blog smoothly to the interweb.
David spoke to the camera and his online followers: “Places like cafés are interesting because they get us out of our storage units into the real world for networking opportunities.” Networking was a must. “You rarely get to relate with other brands’ products unless you pay for interactions online. One of my favorite ways to pay for relationships outside of my career is Medieval Storyworld clubbing.” He paused. “Shout-out to my clubbing partners. I have coworkers who prefer other options, such as Real World meetups and work support groups.” He pointed at the Refuel Cafés. “Human-doings from the various classes, including the Self-Purchased and the Productzens from the various Majors, all mingle here.” He shut the blog off and looked back at his booth’s screen.
David noted again that most of the customers did not interact with anyone because they had plugged right into the devices or were distracted by a hundred other opportunities to spend freedoms. “Oh well. It was good v-blog anyway.” David sat and observed how others marketed themselves. “Spending in public is better than spending in private, even if many customers do not optimize the space for relating.” He enjoyed this environment, but David could not identify why it was so special to him as a person, even though it felt right, if a bit foolish, to want to connect with a community. Perhaps community felt true and good and this sensation aligned with something inherently human.
Wham. A hard object whacked David in the head. It rattled his brain. He stood up angry and dazed. As David rotated in his chat station, he removed his interaction absorber headband so that he could hear what was going on around him. A large gaggle of sounds emanated from across the colorful hallway outside the open doors of his store.
“Newly branded interns,” David-23 cursed to himself. He saw a group of teens giggling. He remembered the carefree days when he had been given a brand and freedoms to spend and sent out into the world. Good, happy days, he recalled emotionally, and he smiled despite the pain of the blow echoing in his skull. The noisy group came closer to him, and his eyes refocused. A group of newbies had come from just down the hall where there was a Tertain gaming facility, which was often packed with fresh-off-the-stock press. The older crowd usually preferred the Orns bar or the Tertain bar with the news, sports, and entertainment shows.
“Nnectonian, pass us our blaze ball! We did not mean to interfere with your chat session.” An A-type leader from the gaggle of youths stood front and center, his green Thrive brand plastered around his bulky shoulders and glowing with energy. He waved at the object that had whacked David’s head. “Please, sir, before he gets away.”
David heard another noise. “A human-doing?” He saw the object of their jest. An old man was crawling on all fours down the hallway in front of them and bleeding from several wounds. David got worried that these interns were out of line, but then he realized and said to himself, “It’s only a jobless. Oh, thank the stock.” The man had a gray Orns “Reject X” on his arm.
The jobless stood, limping, and started hobbling desperately down the hallway away from the kids. The glowing neon ball at David’s feet was an arcade ball that was used in a fight simulator. It tracked down and slammed into an opponent when released. It was only meant to be used in the game scenario and when the contestants wore protection suits. How these kids had managed to get the ball out of the parameters of the arcade was beyond David’s imagination. “Human stock these days are getting smarter with each iterative generation.” A passerby stooped and handed the ball to David.
“Kids will be kids.” David smiled, his anger appeased as he repeated a mantra he had heard in Medieval Storyworld from one of his favorite characters, the princess Trawland. Turning to the youths, he said, “I don’t want to spoil your fun. Keep that thing aimed away from normal human-doings, all right? Or I will report you to QC.” David spoke in a friendly but reprimanding voice. “Go have fun.”
“By the stock, hurry,” one little dark-haired girl hissed to her bolder friends.
“Thanks, Doer,” said the cocky leader as he caught the ball David tossed to him. The translucent, color-shifting surface of the blaze ball began to glow orange. It whistled as the youth hurled it again. It whined through the air and slammed hard into the spine of the limping old man who was shuffling down the hallway.
“Got him! Ten freedoms to you.”
“That was a pro shot there.”
“You might have a career in Battle Games one day.”
An animated cheer went up from the encouraging blob of peers. The youths moved off to continue their target practice fun. David beamed, remembering his own younger intern days, before his career had become busy, all consuming, and fully engaging. He turned back to his screen and put the absorber headphones on, disappearing into the digital world once more. Those near him did not turn from their glowing projection monitors.
David’s screen flashed a positive blue and then said into his tilted earpiece, “You have a message, Twenty-Three.” He looked at his request notification; it still read “pending.” Damn the human stock, he thought.
But then he opened the feedback tab. A response from Gayle read, “You can meet me at Clock Park today at four p.m. if you want, at Clock Tower Six. I will be there one hour only.” The bright-blue eyes and perfect features of Abigayle-25’s Selfie popped up on the screen in the message tab, enticing him.
David checked his time device against his required return time to the RITE. It was 3:55 p.m. He reflexively crossed his hands over his heart in an X. He breathed out a sigh of relief and typed out, “See you in twenty minutes. I just need to get over there from the MCM near Nnect.”
Chapter 11
Clock Towers
“Yes!” David was ecstatic as he unplugged. Overjoyed, he waved to the staff behind the counter on his way out. Clock Park was even closer than he remembered, or maybe it was because he ran faster than usual to get there. He scanned the elaborate stone courtyard at the entrance. The tropical locale contained seven large clock towers, each built with white stone blocks and rising a hundred feet above the highest palm tree canopy. David passed the curling wrought-iron archway that guarded the entrance, on which was inscribed time is not your own in audacious font the size of a person. History taught that this park had been a sarcastic gift from one CEO to another. David and most of the population had no idea what the joke was all about. But relationships among CEOs were way above David’s pay grade.
As a young intern, before financial worry had taken over his waking moments, David used to come and run through this park just to enjoy the long, leafy-green palm branches and the warm sunlight.
“It’s so odd how young and foolish I could be, appreciating beauty for the sake of beauty,” David scoffed as he ran in the direction of Clock Tower 6. “And not getting paid for it either. I was a fool.” It was laughable. David felt in his pocket for his handwritten response before he remembered he’d thrown it away. “There are more important things.”
Another foolish thought filled his mind, of when he was young and obsessed with Angela in school. My time with Angela was laughable as well, or maybe pitiable. This thing with Gayle will be real. David sought for constructive insight when he reflected on his past destructive habits; his insights fueled his current career and relationship goals, just like his Mindmonk had taught him.
But despite all that, something inside of him came alive as he began to jog through the foliage. A sense of interior tranquility filled him, subtle and tenuous like the smoke of a recently stifled candle that curls up and then fades away leaving a smell lingering. The brand usually stifled introspection but not today. The oddness continues. The gray gnarled trunks opened magnificent foliage hands to embrace the blue sky, the yellow sun. Brown coconut clusters dangled dangerously from the branches above the path David ran on. He smiled, almost despite himself; a sense of belonging and coming home filled him. A small part of the usually conceited and egotistical young man wanted to say thank you to Gayle for picking this place of peaceful memories. Lately the pressure to save freedoms so he could buy himself elevated his stress level, but being here eased some of the tension, and he moved with a lighter heart through the sand as it eased up from underneath his feet and found its way into his very corporate shoes.
A Tale Of Doings Page 13