David Mitchell - Cloud Atlas

You felt the corpocratic world order had changed, irrevocably. You vowed never to trust any fabricant. You knew that Abolitionism was as dangerous and insidious a dogma as Unionism. You supported the resultant Homeland Laws dictated by the Beloved Chairman, wholeheartedly.

All of those, yes. What happened down in your dinery, meanwhile?

Unanimity arrived in force to blip every diner’s Soul and to nikon eyewitnesses’ accounts as the dome was evacuated. We cleaned the dinery and imbibed Soap without Vespers. The following yellow-up, my sisters’ memories of Yoona 939’s killing remained largely intact. That Matins, instead of the customary Starring Ceremony, Papa Song delivered His Anti-Union Sermon.

I still find it incredible that a Logoman told his fabricants about Union .

Such was the shock, the panic. Doubtless the Sermon’s primary goal was to show Media that the Papa Song Corp had a damage control strategy in place. Papa Song’s upstrata lexicon that Matins supports this theory. It was quite a performance.

Would you recount what you remember for my orison?

Our Logoman’s head filled half the dome, so we seemed to stand inside his mind. His clownish xpression was heavy with grief and rage, and his clown’s voice rang with despair. The Hwa-Soons trembled, the aides looked awed, and Seer Rhee was pasty and sick. Papa Song told us a gas called evil xists in the world; purebloods called terrorists breathe in this evil, and this gas makes them hate all that is free, orderly, good, and corpocratic; a group of terrorists called Union had caused yesterday’s atrocity by infecting one of our own sisters, Yoona 939 of the Chongmyo Plaza Dinery, with evil; instead of judasing Union, Yoona 939 had let the evil take her into temptation and deviance; and were it not for the dedication of Unanimity, with whom Papa Song Corp has always fully cooperated, a consumer’s innocent son would now be dead. The boy had survived, but diners’ trust in our beloved corp had been wounded, grievously. The challenge before us, Papa Song concluded, was to work harder than ever to earn back that trust.

Therefore: we must be vigilant against evil, every minute of every day. This new Catechism was more important than all others. If we obeyed, our Papa would love us forever. If we failed to obey, Papa would zerostar us year after year and we would never get to Xultation. Did we understand?

My sisters’ understanding would have been hazy, at best; our Logoman had used many words we did not know. Nevertheless, cries of “Yes, Papa Song!” echoed around the Plinth.

“I cannot hear you!” our Logoman xhorted us.

“Yes, Papa Song!” every server in every dinery in corpocracy shouted, “Yes, Papa Song!”

As I said, quite a performance.

You said in your trial that Yoona 939 couldn’t have been a Union member. Do you still maintain that position?

Yes. How and when could Union recruit her? Why would a Unionman risk the xposure? Of what worth was a genomed server to a terrorist ring?

I’m puzzled. If amnesiads in Soap “nullify” memory, how come you can recall the events of that time with such precision and clarity?

Because my own ascension had already begun. Even to a thoroughbred imbecile like Boom-Sook, the degradation of Yoona 939’s neurochemical stability was obvious, so another guinea pig was being prepared. The amnesiads in my Soapsac were reduced, accordingly, and ascension catalysts instreamed.

So … after the Sermon, New Year’s Day was business as usual?

Business, yes; usual, no. The Starring Ceremony was perfunctory. Two Twelvestarreds were escorted into the elevator by Aide Ahn. These were replaced by two Kyelims. Yoona 939 was replaced by a new Yoona. Seer Rhee inserted our new stars into our collars in grave silence; applause was deemed inappropriate. Soon after, Media streamed in, flashing nikons and besieging the office. Our seer could get them out only by first letting them nikon the new Yoona lying in the elevator with a 939 sticker on her collar, covered in tomato sauce. Later, Unanimity medics xamined each of us in turn. I was fritened of incriminating myself, but only my birthmark provoked any passing comment.

Your birthmark? I didn’t know fabricants have birthmarks .

We do not, so mine always caused me embarrassment in the steamer. Ma-Leu-Da 108 called it “Sonmi 451’s stain.”

Would you show it to my orison, just as a curio?

If you wish. Here, between my collarbone and shoulder blade.

Xtraordinary. It looks like a comet, don’t you think?

Hae-Joo Im made xactly the same remark, curiously.

Huh, well, coincidences happen. Did Seer Rhee retain his position?

Yes, but it brought the unlucky man little solace. He reminded his corp xecs how he had “smelled deviance” on Yoona 939 months before, thus passing blame to the medic who xamined her. Chongmyo Plaza profits soon returned to average levels: purebloods have short memories where their stomachs are concerned. Kyelim 689 and Kyelim 889 were a further attraction: as a newly created stemtype, they drew queues of fabricant spotters.

And it was around this time that you grew aware of your own ascension?

Correct. You wish me to describe the xperience? It mirrored Yoona 939’s, I now recognize. Firstly, a voice spoke in my head. It alarmed me greatly, until I learned that no one else could hear this voice, known to purebloods as “sentience.” Secondly, my language evolved: for xample, if I meant to say good , my mouth substituted a finer-tuned word such as favorable, pleasing , or correct . In a climate when purebloods thruout the Twelve Cities were reporting fabricant deviations at the rate of thousands a week, this was a dangerous development, and I sought to curtail it. Thirdly, my curiosity about all things grew acute: the “hunger” Yoona 939 had spoken of. I eavesdropped diners’ sonys, AdV, Boardmen’s speeches, anything , to learn. I, too, yearned to see where the elevator led. Nor did the fact that two fabricants, working side by side on the same teller in the same dinery, both xperienced these radical mental changes evade me. Lastly, my sense of alienation grew. Amongst my sisters I alone understood our xistence’s futility and drudgery. I even woke during curfew, but never entered the secret room, or even dared move until yellow-up. Yoona’s doubts about Papa Song haunted me. Ah, I envied my uncritical, unthinking sisters.

But most of all, I was afraid.

How long did you have to endure that state?