Empire

Part I

Jan Christopherson unsnapped the stylish leather belts on the shoulders of his field jacket. He pulled the air filter off the loosened belts and hung it from the utility hook on his waist. He squinted into the filthy darkness of the midday sunlight spoiled by years of heavy industrialization. The backs of his hands and the areas of his face not masked by the filter were collecting carbon faster and faster each day as August twenty second, the day of the midnight sun, approached. On that particular day, the Analytical Engine Hermephres had calculated the Empire's pollution pounds per liter[PPL] of air would reach critical levels and all production would stop for an estimated two months. The same story as the year before and Jan felt he was a better journalist than that. He absolutely did not want to go to the Analytical Engine buildings. Socratic Education told him to pacify himself by quietly reciting scripture from the Jung-Freud Bible. He chose the book of Freudian Complexes, his favorite, and recited th e passage on reasoning and pacification of personal evils.

His parents had sold themselves into catatonia for him seventeen years ago, five years after his birth. His father used his quarterly computing time to run a financial advisement request to find out how to support a child without falling into the Pauper class in the process. Jung-Freud frowned on those who could not support themselves, and years of Socratic Education forbid him the opportunity of taking the financial risk of having a child without doing everything he could think of to pay for the expenses. In retrospect, Jan could not blame his father and mother for becoming catatonics for him. He only regretted that they could no longer use their skills, or think, or remember - slaving twenty-four hours a day over the machines.

Jan ran his fingers through his hair and waited outside of Danbry's office. With clockwork efficiency, the Empire Daily's Rolan turned its head and approached him. A brass, humanoid exoskeleton, the Rolan had a look of strange beauty and inspiration, while remaining ferocious and somehow empty of all humanity. A spring whirled as its mobility mechanisms whined and were engaged. The Rolan, Robot Overseer Logical Analytical Network, was, as everyone including Jan knew, not a single entity, but a blanket network of enforcement machines controlled by none other than the Analytical Engine Zepher. While Hermephres tended to provide results that were somewhat humane, Zepher's analysis were typically of a humo-repressive nature.

The secret technology that gave the Rolan a voice always made Jan curious, though the Socratic Method in him commanded a respect for the engines and the Rolan. The Rolan stopped completely when a new series of punch cards were loaded into its stack.

"Employee, Journalist, late for work. No recorded attendance for daily Jung-Freud mass. Comply." The Rolan was silent, a clock ticking away, waiting for a response.

Jan said louder than necessary, his face feeling even more greasy and dirty as he enunciated his words carefully to avoid any confusion. "New air filters, missed mass for filters, employee survival prevails. Compliance." Although Danbry never once said anything nice about his journalism, his boss had high respect for his ability to communicate exactly the right thing to the Rolan. In other words, the perfect white lie. His Socratic Education revolted and he found himself quiet reciting the Jung-Freud scripture on penance.