J Mauldin - Final Solution

“Then one day, one strange day, as the Gazers could no longer bear the Sovereign, the Contenteds have a change of heart. They see the world around them shifting and decide to work together, to amass the power of the Bottoms and topple the Sovereign. They take what the Sovereign has stolen through corporate exploitation veiled as employment. All the wealth is evenly distributed, and everyone is richer, even the Contenteds. Science and art and culture flourish without common struggles to hold them back. Every one of the children are given what they need to survive and thrive. The Contenteds are put in charge as stewards, not Kings. The children reach for the sky as one, united in their cause to claim the void as their own.

“They spread their wings and fly, set free from the monotony of basic survival. They reach for the rocks floating in the sky. The red rock. The ringed rock. The calico rock. They begin to build and grow at exponential speed, machines they’ve crafted paving the way through automation. And then, amidst their utopia of freedom and fulfillment, one of the Contenteds sees new opportunity. He becomes more ambitious than the rest, putting all of his riches into goods.

“It takes some time, but the Contented positions himself to seize power. He uses his newfound exports as leverage against those on the big blue globe, the cradle of all children. He cuts corners and changes rules, rallying those tired of living the same as everyone else to his cause. He says a man, not a child, should earn what he wishes, have what he wishes if he’s willing to work for it. Not be held back, wasting hard work so that others who’ve contributed less can thrive all the same. But before the former, now fractured, Bottoms or Gazers or toppled Sovereign can catch up and plead their case, the Contented takes control and becomes fatter, richer than anyone ever before. Trouble is, in the void there’s nowhere to go, no choice to escape his power. They are trapped beneath his will.

“His greed multiplies and before the Contented knows it, he’s at war against the other children. He calls himself a man. Once again they’re fighting over the same coins, though now there are two hundred instead of one hundred. The original Bottoms and Gazers might now be twice as rich, but have less than a fraction of the Contented, the new Sovereign.”

She turned to face me, expectant.

“What do you think was better?” I asked, not sure what to take of the lengthy parable. No one had ever told me the truth, plain or otherwise, but part of me always knew what was taught in school had been a lie. Even Enela had known something wasn’t right, and he was among the Bottoms. “Is it better when we’re economic equals, and hard work means nothing? Or, when opportunist can exploit? Stealing from those who know no better and cannot fight for themselves? Was pure socialism our fall, or some form of capitalism?”

Liberty laughed. “If it were only that simple. Our fall was brought about by men of greedy ambitions who had no one’s interests at heart but their own. We have always been afraid to say this aloud and be alienated from our declared parties, but both our systems are flawed. Where there’s life, there will always be those grabbing for power. All these systems do is change the ways in which they’re forced to do so. Is this child an economic autocrat fat on slavery? Or Big Brother guiding our actions to his benefit? Both want the same in the end, an unfair portion of power that will only hold us back. All the money, all the votes, all the property, all the access, all the choices. Because in the end, wealth is about choice, and the men with power hold every fucking one.”

“Well,” I asked, taking her hand, “if you could change the world, what would you do different?”

Her lips curled up at the ends as she gripped my fingers tightly. “I don’t know if I can change the world; I’m just one person. But I can change my world.”

She drew me in and kissed me on the lips. My stomach flipped end over end with equal portions of excitement and nausea. Damn, I couldn’t do this inside a simulation; it just didn’t jive with my central nervous system. I ignored the discomfort and focused on the pleasure as long as I could. I knew where this was headed and was overjoyed, but was positive it wouldn’t end well. It would be an awkward disaster. Coitus interruptus by stomachus ejectus.

She pulled back and frowned. “You okay?”

“Damn simulation. How’s this for fair? I don’t get sick from the EMFs when we fire rail guns, but I start getting excited inside this place and it makes me squeamish.”

“Excited, hmm? Nice excuse, Davie. It’s alright if you’re not interested. That’s why you want to get back to Mars, isn’t it? You’ve got another pretty bird to listen to?”

“Not interested?” I spluttered. “No, no, no. This is no excuse, Lib. I’d just rather we be in person. It feels right for us to be in person. Skin to skin. This place we’re in, it—it just isn’t real.”

“I feel the same.” She put her arms around me and squeezed. It sure felt real.

“Damn the rules. It’s bullshit. Why can’t things just be easy?”

“Like they were when we were teenagers?”

“Yeah, when we didn’t have to worry about ranks and class and people killing us. You know, all this adult, ‘grown up’ bullshit. Back then we could be ourselves as much as we wanted to. We could be this!” I mimicked her earlier arm wave.

“That’s what the world is missing.” She kissed me again and it was wonderful. “The freedom to be who we are.”

“Without all the hang-ups and hoops and red tape.”

She laid a palm on my right cheek and raked her fingers through my hair. “Then it’s settled. Let’s do what we can to survive and leave it all behind.”

“You sure?”

“I am.”

I tipped my head. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

It was a wonderful dream, a fantastical fantasy, with a splendid third act and many guest appearances, but it would never come to pass. Our destiny was already written, and we could feel it in our bones.

This mission would be our undoing.

Text LOG #67 with Captain (Goddard’s watch).

03:00

Captain: Goddard?

03:01

Captain: Goddard? Where are you?

03:03

Captain: Damn it, Goddard. Where the hell are you!

03:05

Captain: Goddard, you better pick up now. You hear me?

Goddard: I was sleeping, sir. It’s 3 in the morning. What’s the matter?

Captain: No crewmembers are awake but for Graham and Stone and me. Yet VR simulations are currently running on the information network.

Goddard: Is that so?

Captain: Some place in the Swiss Alps. Two simulations are fixed on a place near Zurich. For some reason I can’t tell who started them even though I’m the super admin.

Goddard: What are you saying?

Captain: The target is working with someone. They’ve got to be. They’re using this method to communicate.

Goddard: I wouldn’t worry about it, sir. Seems a sloppy way to make contact?

Captain: Why’s that, Goddard? Terrorists in the Oil Wars used an MMORPG internet game to communicate tactical information through whispers.

Goddard: No reason, I guess. Just a feeling. It’s probably a glitch. I can have Griffin look at it.

Captain: I’m not sure if I trust your feeling.

Goddard: Sir?

Captain: Nothing. Proceed with caution.

I tried to be sensible all things considered, I really did, but sensible feelings were hard to come by. Impulse was taking control of my actions and its power was absolute. It made not dwelling on the pain easier. Maybe I couldn’t run from my mistakes forever, but I could shelter in her affections for a time.