Anomaly

The Anomalies Department was on the two hundred and sixth floor of a towering skyscraper. Professor Thomas Courley fiddled with his appointment card as the high speed elevator whisked to an appointment he really did not want. Although as a free citizen he could've ignored the summons, everyone he told about the invitation had advised him to keep it. Nonetheless, not one of them would express an opinion why a department of the SEB (Social Engineering Bureau) would require his presence. If it was minor matter related to his specialty of Postindustrial Era history, they could've contacted him by vidphone or E-mail.

He'd never heard of an Anomalies Department. Somehow, when he linked the word anomaly with social engineering, the result was disquieting. It seemed to imply that social anomalies existed in what he had been led to believe was the perfect society -- anomalies that like flaws in a machine had to be eliminated.

 The SEB, at least according to the AI controlled media, was responsible for guaranteeing every citizen happiness and a fulfilling life and had eliminated wars, revolutions, crime, pollution and other social ills. It performed this miracle through the science of psychosocial engineering, a science that Courley was sadly ignorant of. All he knew was that thousands of AI's, androids and robots kept a society of billions of humans continuously in a state of equilibrium. How they accomplished this feat, he had no idea.

The elevator doors opened upon a plush lobby where a pretty receptionist ushered him into a room furnished in the manner of a private apartment. A glass wall gave a breathtaking view of the city. The other three walls contained holograms of woodland landscapes complete with small animals scampering between the trees. A light perfume hung in the air, and classical music played in the background.

A lovely blonde young woman in casual garments extended her hand. "Good morning, Professor." Her voice was soft and well-modulated, her smile friendly. "I'm Karen March. Please be seated."

Courley fidgeted nervously. This Karen March had not given herself a title, which made him wonder about her function. In addition, she was so overtly beautiful that he could not help but feel a sexual attraction toward her, which in turn made him feel awkward and needy. He suspected that she was an android. He had it on good authority that no humans were employed by the SEB. He was uncomfortable around androids; their superior intelligence made him feel stupid and inferior.

March sat on the divan opposite him and crossed her legs, giving him a peek of fleshy thigh. He flushed and shifted his gaze to the floor. After she muttered a few commands, a portion of the coffee table displayed a report. Although the report was upside-down from Courley's perspective, with an effort he could read the title, Anomaly 11368N2B52 - Projected Effect of Deviant Behavior by Subject A38-4C.

The room became terribly warm. Drops of perspiration slid down Courley's collar. He wondered who Subject A38-4C was and what sort of deviant behavior this person exhibited. Another report on a different section of the table contained his name and serial number. Above his name in large bold letters and numbers was the designation Subject A38-4C.

Courley wiped his damp forehead with a tissue. Deviant behavior? he thought. There had to be a mistake. Perhaps his file had been mixed up someone else's. Nonetheless, it occurred to him that he was rather a recluse. Sometimes his few friends were shocked by his unconventional thoughts. But these things were merely mild eccentricities.