A Tale Of Doings

by Philip Quense

  As Phel went about his menial tasks in order to survive, the warrior Jillian couldn’t have cared less about the weak prisoner. She ignored him completely. As he carried heavy buckets of human and animal dung from the destroyed bathhouse to the new pits outside of the village, he waited for a chance to change his stature in her eyes. He passed her in the streets with a smile and a ready word on his lips, but she had nothing to do with him. Phel saw that the society here, including this elusive woman, respected the power and strength of individuals like Sir Drane, not the obedient, compliant pet that roamed their village as a prisoner.

  As the derelict knight endured life in the enemy village, he began to imitate and learn about the worldview of the Driston invaders. They had a keen desire to conquer themselves and their world through feats of strength and tremendous heroic acts of power. These people worshipped the warrior’s way. From the menial peasant farmer to the simple fletcher to the personal guards of the invading lord, all believed in earning everything for oneself.

  Phel trudged past the mansion training grounds, a large patio out in front. “Your power comes from your acts of might!” Sir Drane bellowed at his training soldiers. The soldiers brutally beat one another to a pulp in the mansion courtyard. In comparison, Alexorians trained smart, with a disciplined method; they didn’t seek to injure unnecessarily in training. The animals of Driston were ferocious, like a pack of wolves trying to oust the runt of the litter.

  Moonz people did not wait for life to happen and offer thanksgiving for a blessed fortune; they forced life to happen and then made sure others knew of their success. This stood in opposition to the Sonz worldview, which honored kindness, patience, peace, freedom for all, and respect.

  Phel’s duties included cleaning out and picking up all the shit buckets from each house in Waver Town. He then brought them to a common pit outside of town; this earned food for his dinner. It also gave him the opportunity to secure a bed in the disheveled barn of Cledwyn, the betrayer—the other betrayer.

  Cledwyn said each morning, “Phel, one more day. Keep on keeping on.”

  Phel would reply, “By the light.”

  Phel had come to appreciate Cledwyn. He interacted with him as he came back from the fields each night, and they would talk out of earshot of their captors about everything and anything. Cledwyn taught Phel the Driston way. Phel considered forgiving Cledwyn for associating with the invaders. The kind farmer was the only one in the village willing to provide a roof over the humiliated knight’s head. This was worth forgiveness. The pit with the wolves was an intimidating alternative.

  One day, as Phel and Cledwyn butchered a cow, a troop of ten aggravated Driston warriors rode into the village. Jillian and Drane rode at the front of the armored band.

  Phel stared at the warrior woman, all shining steel and dull leather. “Stop staring at what will get you killed,” Cledwyn warned Phel. “I’ve told you to avoid the warriors and avoid escape attempts. Both will get you killed.”

  “Cledwyn, how do you get a woman like that to know you exist?”

  “Boy, stop dreaming. That’s almost as bad as wishing the princess of Alexoria would want to take you out for an ale. To earn respect here, you need to show power.”

  “Like dominance? How can a prisoner be dominant?”

  “Not dominance. Power. It is different.”

  “How can I show that when I won’t ever face her in battle?”

  Cledwyn stooped and put a dirty hand on the dejected Phel’s neck. “I am a simple man, but I figure a start would be to stop being loyal to the things that she despises.”

  “Fate made me what I am.”

  “You need to cease allowing fate to rule your life. She looks at you and sees a beaten, worthless, disgraced leaf on the wind.”

  “I am a knight of Alexoria!”

  “You are an untrained, unproven squire. You didn’t succeed in your first and only mission.”

  “Well, if I had been given a proper chance…”

  “Stop proving my point. They do not respect or understand the honorable strength of a Sonz knight but prefer the wild, savage power of the Moonz way of life. You need to be fearsome.”

  Drane reared his black stallion in front of the mansion and dismounted in an athletic leap. “And she is already won by Drane,” Cledwyn said. “He won fame for himself as he fought his way up the ranks during the conquest of Waver Town and in other campaigns. That is why the mysterious Lord Meldz named him second-in-command. The bear-bearded man is a savage with those double axes.” Drane had a pair of glinting axes that seemed an extension of his body.

  Phel knew the stories of the invasion of Waver Town. All the villagers whispered of the horrific surprise raids; the village had been conquered in under a month. Bear-Beard, as Drane became known among the villagers, had emerged over the cliffs and hacked apart the defending troops. The myth of Bear-Beard was legend. Whispers cautioned of his fearsome strength.

  A couple weeks after the discussion with Cledwyn, Phel carried his shit buckets from the village square to the commander’s home to get the last deposit for the day. He passed the servants’ yard at the rear entrance. Three lanky Moonz boys beat a broken Sonz villager, the shaggy man covering his head to hide from the blows. Phel put his head down, ignoring the plea on the villager’s face. Phel was filled with shame. Shame for his countryman and their pitiable existence.

  “Where are you, Creator of Light? Guide of Alexoria?” He looked at the moon, bright and clear; it reflected off the turbulent ocean. “Why? Why does the Creator not rescue this beaten village? Why am I the most pitiable of men?” He questioned all he held sacred. His mind wavered from his faith.

  The wavering faith and his infatuation toward Jillian grew, and he indulged his frustration by seeking to earn recognition in small ways from his captors.

  Frustration reached a peak as he stood shoveling shit at the edge of the village one night while the rest of the town celebrated the new moon. Loud sounds of revelry filled the night sky. Wild drinking and dancing raged in the town hall. He was to keep the bathrooms clean.

  “Be gone from me, Creator. You choose not to aid me. Damn you, I choose not to follow you. I’m finished with shit.” He had had enough. “I will learn the ways of Driston, if that is what it will take to impress Jillian and get myself out of this hellish reality.”

  Chapter 15

  Media Mongrels

  Quarter 1, Day 7

  David returned from his RITE week and went to check back into his office to clean up a project or two he had been working on. He crossed his heart with the sign of the X and whispered gratitude to Nnect as he entered the doors to his office. Don’t be distracted, and keep a low profile so you can get work done, he told himself as he pushed the doors open.

  But word of David’s success was going around. The office buzzed with curiosity. Everyone on David’s old team of engineers wanted to know anything and everything David could tell them about the PPRE release. He took two steps and…

  “So, one of the superheroes of the RITE has deigned to enter his old workplace,” Ella-46 teased, with a bit of jealousy underlying her tone. Her head bobbed from behind a frosty glass cubicle wall.

  “One day a nobody, and now all over the company’s internal blog,” a bitter manager moaned to another coworker just loud enough for David to hear.

  “Not just any product line, but the most risky, adventurous, and top-selling relationship product since maybe the Selfie was invented.” Mac cheered so that the entire office knew David was present.

  “Yes, yes, the RITE was a huge success.” David brushed Mac aside as he let his computer desk scan him into his station.

  “Success? You are a phenomenon, David.” Kendra came to join the conversation. “Look at the Nnect internal billboard!” David, Dan, May and Kendra were featured in a sequence of pictures. “Upstarts for the win!”

  David had not watched the blog yet. He cringed as he looked up and saw himself and several members of the RITE sha
king hands with the CEO himself. The CEO was the featured image in all the ads, but David and several others appeared on the periphery as a voice described the new relationship product.

  “Guys, guys, it was nothing.” David protested, trying to shove his way toward his desk.

  “Oh, stop pretending to be humble. You are blushing the way you always do when people put you in the spotlight,” May pointed out.

  “Well, work as normal!” David tried to change the subject. “Time to go purchase a PPRE product for myself.”

  “Spending on company time is against the law!” a squeaky voice behind Dan said.

  “How reckless you have become after just a little bit of managerial exposure.” Kendra giggled. “I bought a physical date as soon as it went live.” Dan blushed from behind her. David knew who was paired up.

  “It just aired on the internal Nnect news feed,” David countered. “How do we know it will remain a success?”

  The squeaky voice said, “Still! None of us have ever been that close to the CEO. What is he like?”

  “Simply wonderful. Powerful. Inspiring. Fatherly.” David paused. The group listened attentively, and Kendra waved in agreement. “The man was godlike.”

  May took over the explanations, allowing David to reach his work station. David’s computer interface came alive with his Selfie. “No work for you today, Twenty-Three. All the RITE brandies have been asked to take a day off to celebrate. Get out of here.” David looked up in shock and then used the moment to slip away from all the attention. He did not want to answer more questions than he had to. He headed back to his storage unit to freshen up before going out again. Normally he would have enjoyed the admiration, but he wondered if the admiration would turn to fear once his team learned he was an Advanced premanager now. The new managerial role was a big deal. He had not had time to contemplate its full meaning yet.

  Thank the stock for the generosity of CEO Saul. David’s sapphire brand reflected the sunlight as he meandered gratefully down the broad walking avenue toward a nearby MCM superspending emporium. A new addition to his brand tattoo included an A for Advanced. A Nnect Human Resource Tech had added it after the RITE. Normal Productzens looked at him differently now; they stepped aside for him. “I’m living the dream.” He hopped a couple times in response to his mood.

  Hours later, after fighting with the buggy PPRE app to set up his first date time slot, and after several cups of adrenaline coffee, David walked briskly toward a wealthy section of town. He wore a pure-white sleeveless track hoodie manufactured with soft CLOUDS cloth; it was top of the line and branded with a bloodshot T. He had a long blue right-sleeved shirt covering his illegal armband. He wore light-gray pants that featured a Ssential label—only the best today. It was time to go on his first date. He would dine in style with his one and only PPRE girlfriend at Cookless, a popular restaurant for wealthy Productzens and Self-Purchased people; the prolific reviews on the Xchange server all shouted praises of the place. The advertising boasted that the staff made the guests do all the work. Selfie went so far as to interpose a picture of David looking like a regular in front of the restaurant to crown the invitation David had emailed to Abigayle-25 via the mobile PPRE app. David would lose a ton of freedoms today buying dinner, but it was worth it: every cent of freedom was worth the extravagance. It was his first physical date.

  “Got to start things correctly.” He hummed happily to himself. He had never imagined that teeing someone up would be such a rush.

  She had said yes, of course.

  She didn’t have a choice. He giggled, self-satisfied. It was quite a flawless and drama-free arrangement. David was proud of how smoothly things were working out for him. The sun shone down on him between the air road vehicles zipping above him. Life was good indeed.

  A ragged-looking Orns employee, with a disfigured spine, nearly tripped David up as she unsuccessfully fled a QC patrol. The wrinkled hands touched David’s white vest as he tried to step farther into the wealthy crowd. He did his best to ignore the pleas from the scumbag as she was dragged into a waiting disposal cart. He shivered at the touch.

  “Urg. Germs.” David wiped the residue of dirt carefully off his garment.” He continued walking.

  Maybe I should get Gayle digital flowers to celebrate her beauty. He had learned somewhere that women liked that sort of thing—perhaps on one of his nightly episodes of Storyworld? “Romance, it’s called.” The knight in shining armor in episode thirty-five of Medieval Storyworld taught me that, I think, he mused. Flowers and an excessive dining experience should smooth over any lingering hard feelings from the regrettable clock tower conflict. David pushed any emerging guilt regarding his selfish, lustful behavior down deep, as it tried to unsettle his positive spirit.

  Persons passing on either side of David were merely background shadows to the internal reality in which he was enveloped. His feet rose and fell one after the other, carrying him closer to the glorious dream in his mind. Lost among these hopeful dreams, David did not hear his name being shouted.

  “Twenty-Three! Flock Block cube mate!” The voice shouting his name noticed the lack of a response, and it grew more insistent.

  “David, Twenty-Three, crazy Nnectonian.” David heard the voice this time. The voice continued as David tried to locate the source in the ocean of shoppers. “By the stock, why’d you run instead of walk like a normal…? Stop a sec and chat with a mate. !” The voice repeated the request several times before David decided to acknowledge the request by slowing his pace. “Manager rate me,” the voice cursed. “Look up!” The request came from just on the other side of the walking avenue.

  “David to reality. Come back to reality.” A familiar purple arm waved, and David finally took notice of Uriah-177’s unlikable face smiling at him. “Are you present or elsewhere?” Uriah chortled.

  “Sorry, Uriah, did not see you there.” David regretted slowing down. He noted a shopping sack slung over his storage mate’s shoulder. “I see you have been spending again at the MCM. Get anything worth saving?” David intoned the spending and saving sarcastically. But Uriah did not notice the dig at his orientation and perceived character flaw.

  “Productzen 23,” Uriah intoned respectfully. “You, my friend, are famous.” David looked at Uriah dumbly and then at his time device to make sure he was not late for his date.

  “What do you mean? I have not bought myself or done anything amazing lately that you’d be aware of.”

  Bursting into song, the annoying man roared, “Lost among products, may you bloom and grow, bloom and grow. May you bloom and grow forever.” He stopped singing and patted David on the back.

  David said, “I’m tone deaf, and even I can tell you’re butchering good music.”

  “Ever so modest, my storage friend.” Uriah wrapped his chubby arms around David in a long, sweaty, friendship-like embrace that normally marked faithful old compatriots. David slithered out of the embrace, owning up to no such familiarity. Unperturbed, Uriah plowed onward with his speech of praise.

  “PPRE—man, what a success. I just bought my first and last real date!”

  “How does your luck make me famous?”

  “You are part of the company. Your company made it happen. Your company is at the top of my list.”

  “Take a breath, or you’ll black out.” David said.

  Uriah kept going: “And you get to be a part of it by wearing that wonderful blue brand. Inventors of PPRE.” David felt Uriah’s hand tap his blue brand, and he swiped the touch away.

  David was not happy for Uriah. He didn’t enjoy being touched by the man. “My brand, my body,” David reprimanded Uriah. I don’t want that creep touching me, he thought. The PPRE was not meant for creeps like him. David kept walking, but Uriah kept talking.

  “You guys at Nnect really know how to please the consumer. I wish I knew the guy that came up with that zero-right-of-refusal policy.” He winked, smiled, and waved a colorful Nnect relationship product folder in David’s face.


  The guilt from the clock tower emerged again, combined with David’s distaste for Uriah, and made David regret for a moment doing anything that validated Uriah’s obsessions.

  Uriah did not see the cringing look and declared, “They’ve some real geniuses over at Nnect. You must be proud to work there. I wish I could live and die for a company like that.”

  As much as David enjoyed the company of his neighbor—not at all—time was flying, and he was only ten minutes away from his date with Gayle. “Nnect is proud to connect you with others, Uriah.” There it was again. Sarcasm.

  Uriah did not notice David’s demeaning jab. “By the way, do you remember that Orns girl we both dated back in the day? I think three or four years ago—I forget. It’s blurry now.”

  David could not forget the reference; the memory was like a wart on his elbow that he scratched and scratched, hoping it would go away.

  “Have some respect, Uriah.” Clearly Uriah did not care about David’s feelings. He didn’t even realize David was still offended by the experience.

  Speeding up, David tried to lose his mate in the crowd. It didn’t work. Uriah spat cheerfully on an Orns advertisement that was plastered on a concrete wall like a leech sticking to something wholesome. “I even sold my Orns online relationship package with Bathsheba to afford this new Nnect dating service. I tried to buy Bathsheba, but Orns products are out of the dating pool—apparently I am poor. Let me show you my new girlfriend. She works down the street from the MCM. I might get a glimpse of her on my way home.”

  “Creepy, dude.” Disgust filled David’s face.

  “I’m choosing to be the better person here, David. I’m ignoring your rude feedback. The girl has no idea what a good deal she’s getting with me.” Uriah motioned toward his bulging belly. “The complete package.”

  “Uriah, stealing glimpses is a dirty Ornful habit. You know better than to creep.” David wasn’t amused; actually, he was pissed at his annoying neighbor. Another hurtful habit of Uriah’s was to callously toss around their mutual encounter with Bathsheba. Uriah did not realize how much she had meant to David.