I.
Friday, 11:48 am – In a forth floor office, an army of hands and feet assemble compendiums of human desire, records of days gone by and bygone pastimes. The arts and crafts of millennia; accounts of our times of leisure. Humanity’s affection for the bound book having waned in the wake of proliferating screens, Mortimer and his colleagues work on what has survived. A kind of encyclopedia, agreeable and innocuous as gift on all occasions and for all companies, filled each and every one with the cultural activities of civilizations dead or dying – with the activities humans enjoyed before books about pastimes were the only books printed.
Where is my harmonica, you can’t write a history of the harmonica without blowing into one…
“Leonard, have you seen my harmonica?”
“What’s a “harmonica”?
This is the danger of our line of work…
“It’s mostly metal, musical instrument, it looks like a tether, I think you blow into it. It makes sound without electricity - ‘acoustic’ I think they would have said. Have you seen it?”
“I haven’t seen it Mortimer.”
“I have to find it, Terina’s going to liquidate me if I don’t have a draft for the editors by the end of the week. Anyways it doesn’t matter, nobody knows anything about the stuff we write about - how could they criticize the authenticity of the account?”
“It’s only the ancients you have to worry about.”
“It’s true. We shouldn’t offend history - all those rail riding hobos that soothed a listless life with amateur embouchure. Very subtle Leonard.”
“Not at all my concern. I think you underestimate advancements in the science of aging - it limits your ability to model the collective memory of our audience. Mortimer, the eldest recipients of your book may have actually played one of those harmanias.”
“Harmonicas.”
“It’s a very nice noun.”
“Well, I have to find it anyways, I borrowed it from the archive.”
“I should also work. I’m collecting source material for an art book. Have you ever heard of “graffiti”? Can you believe they let people write on the buildings? Of course it collapsed, of course the government had to step in – mere examples Mortimer.
“You’re so square Leonard - my beautiful rectangle.”
Okay, harmonica… hermonica… harmania… when I lose something I have the habit of failing to look in the most obvious place. Maybe that’s why I find such strange things…
“Mortimer! What are you doing, what are you looking for, why aren’t you working?”
“Good morning Terina. I’m doing well, thanks for asking - actually I am working. Have you seen a harmonica?
“Mortimer, I don’t know what that is, but I assume it has something to do with your current project. Presuming that this “harmania” is the pastime about which you are writing, I must remind you again that the tactile approach you take to your work is a method that Retro-Corp will permit only as long as it does not interfere with the task for which we pay you. Need I remind you that your contractual obligation to us must be fulfilled before you can be compensated?
“You mean that I don’t get money for injections until I finish the book? No… no reminder will be necessary.”
What would a honeybee say if you offered it money or gold for its pure product. What kind of waggle dance would begin as you explained that because honey was priced at a premium, the bee would naturally receive enough currency to buy more of a less coveted food? For the hive of course... I’m trying not to say honey money…
“What would it say?”
“What would what say? Mortimer, listen to me very carefully: others more skilled than you have found this job unsustainable over extended periods of time. Investigations of earlier epochs, however measured, have proven quite disquiting for the disproportionate many. The Gorge was not an era that reconciles well with the restraint and admonition of our own. If the unfocused and unstable behavior I’m witnessing now is symptomatic of any greater disorder, bestir yourself before anything irreversible transpires. One more piece of constructive criticism - as important as the artifacts about which you write are to the process, all of the information necessary for your work – and I mean all of it – is available on the network. You do remember how to use a headset don’t you?”
“Of course I do… it’s just that… it’s kind of a sterile way to recreate the past, don’t you think Terina?”
“I don’t equate accuracy or efficiency with sterility.”
Of course you don’t.
“What?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Mortimer, the emotional connections you wish to make with the time of glut, leisure, and decadence, have nothing to do with our work here. Either our customers remember the objects and activities about which we write – in which case it is hardly necessary for you to authenticate their memories – or they are modern enough to approach the past with the kind of jovial derision and mockery on which we have built our business.”
“It just seems strange… I know a lot has changed, but they were just people making music, why exaggerate the differences between them and us?”
“Because it makes people feel good about the present, about the changes that were made – and anyways, we have progressed in so many ways. The past is not a wholly arbitrary source of amusement.”
From all sides and sources… such a burden of proof. What could the past have done to us to bury such resentment so close to surface skin? I’ve heard that during the Gorge, before the data networks were completed, there were home computers designed for games and play. Maybe one day I can write a book on my machine here about those machines then – I wonder what information the network has about them?
“Right - okay Terina, I do appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to talk to me like this, but I think I should get back to work.”
“Of course that’s right Mortimer - I’ll leave you to it, perhaps you and your headset can get reacquainted.”
The Executioners prefer people with disabilities for management positions. They consider survival of an imposed deficit a mark of achievement… and think that absence makes one sympathetic to machines – more appreciative of augmentation.
“Yes Terina.”
But absence can be such a positive pleasure; that’s it, just walk away supervisor presence… down the hall… I wonder what other procedural misadventures she can find today – I think she feeds on them.
…………………………..
……………………….
………………….
…………..
…hey!...
…
.
“Olivia, the copy you submitted last Friday for your popular music compendium is in need of correction. In the early decades of the new millennium the Silent War interrupted the practice of charting music releases, so there is a gap in our records that must be explained to readers. Please insert a clause or two, but do not say anything about the conflict beyond its direct impact on the recording industry.”
Five senses, a multi-centurial life span, the capacity for love and hope and impossible fantasy or folly… narrowed to the demands of a living wage… would I miss the shallowness of her expectations if she asked for more? Farther down the hall, further enemies of convention; I think she feeds on them.
“Faith, your compendium of Late Christian lifestyle has gone to publishing and, although it is in the main your best work to date, the editors felt that your introduction implied that there was something admirable about the sect's mythological attachments. Under section 71 of the Operation Script, such a personal interjection requires a formal performance evaluation. I’ve scheduled a meeting for us at 9:00 a.m. Monday morning to speak about your motivation in the workplace – over the weekend, our analysts will look at your preparatory notes for the project and try to determine the source of your psychological bias.”
Anyway, I’ve heard some of the music from the early millennium at the archives; such beautiful and irresponsible individuality… ‘what’s the worth of all the work of my hands?’
And my dad took me to watch a Catholic service in the emersion rooms at the old library once… he said that some of his relatives – some of my relatives – might have sat through similar shows, in person, every Sunday of their lives… he said it reminded them of the worth of all the work of their hands.
I think here, Terina decides…
“Esther, I’ve just received the results of your hormone analysis – it does seem that above average cortisol levels are partly responsible for your erratic work performance. I will enter those results as extenuating circumstances in your file. Your case will pass to an official peer revue before your future at Retro-Corp is decided.”
Solid walls indeed. If someone were watching us from above, they would just see long term relationships with computers. The I, the eye… the binary lover…
II.
12:36 pm – A cipher among ciphers, Mortimer stairs at the information on his screen. He pulls a marker from his drawer, a relic of his own, enlisted for support. His focus overwhelms, day dreaming turns to muttering, muttering to shouting, making him increasingly difficult to ignore.
Hypnotic Technology, Technological Hypnosis,
Hypnological Technosis, Technotic Hypnology,
“Hypnotic technology, technological hypnosis, hypnological technosis, technotic hypnology.”
“Leonard, is that Mortimer making that sound? What’s going on, is he okay?”
“I don’t know, hold on – Mortimer what are you doing, get down from there – someone call Terina. Mortimer stop it you’re scaring everyone.”
Hypnotic Technology, Technological Hypnosis,
Hypnological Technosis, Technotic Hypnology,
“Hypnotic technology, technological hypnosis, hypnological technosis, technotic hypnology.”
“Leonard, make him stop.”
“I can’t, I mean he won’t, he’s not responding. Help me get him off his desk and on to the floor, maybe he’s having a seizure.”
“Why is he gripping his headset like that?”
“I don’t know just help me get him down.”
“Wait, Leonard, who is the designated first responder for our block?”
“It’s me, why?”
“Because the responding supervisor has to authorize any contact with distressed employees.”
“Okay, who is the responding supervisor for our block?”
“It’s me.”
“Well fine, ‘can I help Mortimer down from his desk Olivia?’”
“Section 13a of the operating manual states than in instances of physical distress, the first responder is permitted to make contact with the employee in question. Section 13b states that in cases of psychological distress, any contact made will implicate the first responder in a code 3 performance breakdown, resulting in a mandatory status re-evaluation.”
“What does that mean.”
“It means that if Mortimer turns out to be crazy and not sick, your help will implicate you.”
“……………………………………”
“Leonard, please, nobody else can select the response code in this situation - what do you think?”
“Just call it in… I mean, Code 1, Orange Alert.”
“Okay Leonard. Where’s our administrator?”
“I’m here.”
“Okay Faith, let the record show that Leonard Trance, first respondant for block 27, authorized an Orange Code 1 intervention – for inanimate psychological threat at 1:47pm universal digital time. Let the record show that the first responder did not participate sufficiently in the incident to require further investigation.”
“Got it.”
“Thank you Faith, I’m calling it in - ”
Sirens?
“Mortimer, it’s me Leonard, square right, nothing to worry about. Everything’s going to be fine. Someone’s coming to help you down now, so there’s nothing to worry about. We’re going to find out what’s wrong: investigate what happened, we will fix whatever it is, so that it never happens again.”
Time present and time past,
are both perhaps present in time future?
“What’s he saying Leonard?”
“Nothing he’s just muttering, or drooling or choking. He’ll be fine until they get here.”
III.
3:13 pm – Mortimer lays on a small cot in the office infirmary, wondering how much more work he could get done if he had an office as nice as this. In an adjacent boardroom, Terina concludes her discussions with the employees concerning exactly what they saw, exactly what they did, in response to Mortimer’s breakdown.
“Thank you all for such a tidy and uncoloured account of today’s events – especially you Leonard. Your relationship with Mortimer makes the lack of inference in your official statements the more comendable.”
“Thank you Terina.”
“That will be all, back then. Go and check on Mortimer and try to give a conciliatory impression. I will be speaking to him when you are finished and I do not want his suspicions to make him deceptive.”
“I understand.”
“Well go then.”
“Hello there.”
“Seriously Leonard, that’s what you’ve got after this one?”
“Well – ”
“Doesn’t matter; you get to keep your job right?”
“I wanted to help. I felt I did.”
“Sure… it doesn’t matter… can you imagine the injustice if one Mortimer Blithe’s maladies got Leonard T. Compliance fired…? Wouldn’t be right.”
“So you’re not mad?”
“Not at you.”
“You know that’s not my last name right?”
Name is destiny.
“I didn’t know that… are they going to terminate me?”
“Oh Mortimer, no one’s mad, they just want to know what’s going on with you so they can help you get back to being a productive member of the – ”
“Okay, okay, Leonard, I remember that sentence from the performance script – it’s bullshit… she’s coming right in here after you… wow, you really would make a great Executioner…
The T stands for Trance.
“Terina.”
“Mortimer.”
“Are you disappointed? Are you surprised by my behavior? Did you think it would end differently; that I was a different kind of employee?”
“I’m disappointed, but not surprised. Such predictability Mortimer, such uninspired mediocrity.”
“Excuse me?”
“This, this is the performance we’ve come to expect from you.
I shouldn’t have prepared my I-let-you-down face.
“It doesn’t matter now, although you should know that this episode is significant in one way.”
I knew it.
“It will appear now, to those above, that my decision to hire and place you where I did was a mistake. For a time, your poor and indolent performance was thought to betray a structural weakness at Retro-Corp”
Now they think it’s your fault?
“Now they will consider it my fault.”
What does the ire of Terina Sterling look like… I wonder?
“No decisions will be made until a formal analysis of your condition has been completed, so I’m not going to waste any time threatening you. The truth is that I believe the analysis will find you pathological. In that event, my inability to foresee your breakdown will prove only the purity of my intentions. Your status will not affect mine.”
Sharp.
“I’m going to send an assessment form home with you today, I would like you to fill it out over the weekend, and bring it with you Monday. We’ll talk about it then.”
Talk to death?
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“I don’t feel well, today, Terina. I just feel a little… strange. Everybody has bad days; I might just be a little sick.
“I don’t think I need to remind you that your – “eccentricities” – have been numerous, well documented, and quite beyond the realm of acceptable strangeness.”
Unacceptable strangenessess?
“We’ll discuss this further Mortimer – ”
“Just hold on Terina, everyone’s performance fluctuates a little, that’s what it means to be alive and trying. Why are my… “fluctuations…” any more problematic? I don’t see the difference… I mean… we all have bad days.”
“Listen Mortimer, you were holding paper, through your episode today. When they calmed you down they found it. What was the point of your outburst?”
The point?
“I didn’t intend anything.”
“Mortimer, you wrote this note, by hand, and hung on to it through your display. Tell me what you meant to communicate.”
“Where did they find it?”
“You were clutching it, crumpled in your palm.”
Am I threatening now?
“And what did it say.”
“You know exactly what it said Mortimer.”
“Actually, I have no idea… I don’t remember anything… I’m sorry Terina.”
“I expected you to be more confrontational than this, and significantly less depressive. Are you saying you don’t know what you wrote? Or why you wrote it?”
The human beneath the Executioner.
“I think neither. Just tell me what it says.”
“The note says:
the sea, the circus, by the stone,
divided three, the paths our own,
decide the lines that they persist,
dividing lines let them exist…
“What’s wrong with that, I don’t remember writing it, but it just sounds like I was just trying to calm myself down… ?”
“What is wrong, Mortimer, beyond the psychological instability that these clauses betray, is that your spelling and syntax have degenerated almost completely. For a person in your line of work this represents a serious failure.”
“Let me see the note Terina.”
“You know I can’t do that Mortimer, it’s evidence now in an ongoing investigation.”
I am an ongoing investigation.
“Please Terina, I don’t even understand what’s happening to me; get rid of me if you have to, but at least allow me the dignity of self awareness.”
“………okay Mortimer.”
The monkey beneath the human beneath the Executioner.
“But I will tell them that you took it by force if you tell anyone about this.”
“I understand, let me see it.”
See the Sirkus, buy the stone…
“What’s the problem, I don't see a difference…”
“We’ll talk about it on Monday Mortimer.”
IV.
4:45 pm – Mortimer sits alone in the infirmary looking over his assessment script. Fighting the urge to run forever from the office, he answers the relevant questions to the best of his abilitiy.
