05 – Recruitment
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05 – Recruitment

Louis – March 25th 2050 – Washington DC: Technocracy HQ

Louis was making his way towards his office, after the meeting. He had a lot to think about but, to be honest, he was rather excited. A mission to the moon! If anybody else had told him about a project like that, (a garden!), he would have laughed in their faces and called them fools. But not Luke. He knew the man could make it into reality.

As he approached his office, he noticed Luke’s glass door was open, despite all the glass walls being obscured. He was about to ignore it and enter his own office, whose walls were still transparent, when he heard the voices from inside.

“…I can’t. I won’t go to them, Eve. They left me.” Luke was saying, his voice broken and shaking.

“You have to. They won’t come to you now. And you need friends, Luke. Nobody would ever approach the de facto king of the world. and surely not to make friends!” The woman, Eve, said. She had a soft voice, soothing and calming, but her tone was firm and stern.

“I have friends! Louis, Justin, and the others!” Luke said. Louis could feel his heart warm a bit, hearing such things.

“They are not your friends. They work for you. At best, your relationship is purely professional, Luke. What you need… are real friends. You have been alone for what, twenty years?”

“Thirty. Ever since I was 25. When that happened. But I’m not going to show up at my old friends’ places and try to make up with them. I was not the one in the wrong. THEY TOLD ME I WAS INSANE, EVE!” His voice broke down into a sob. “They said… those things. That I was worthless. That my ideas were dangerous and would never get my anywhere.” He sniffed, loudly enough for Louis to hear.

“I know… I know. I’m sorry, my love. I’m here with you.” The woman said.

“I love you. I wish I could hug you now…”

“Me too... you have no idea how much.”

Eric – New York

It was morning. The church was completely empty, the silence oppressive. Not many people still believed in the one true god, not after the events of the last few decades. Theirs was a synthetic god now, a fitting replacement to the old oppressive religious regime. And so, today like yesterday and the day before that, it was only Eric in that church, and occasionally the priest coming and going.

A one in a million case. A fucking one in a million. They had told him, afterwards, that the Machine had run billions of simulations of the incident before it even happened. But they all, ultimately, failed. There was only one thing to do, the worst decision to make, how to minimize the damage. And one person had to die in order for others to live. One sacrifice had to be made.

His wife.

Less than one in a million cars still used thermal engines. They were the old models, the ones before the electric revolution of the industry. Those were the ones without all the bells and whistles the new cars had. And, most importantly, without a direct Machine connection. No way to intervene ahead of time on one of those. They were due to become illegal to use in a few months but no, the accident had to happen before the law passed. Fucking irony. Seven years, and it still hurt.

And the fucking bastards are even protesting that they still want to drive their diesel wreckages. They want to feel the road, the roar of the engine, they say. Bullshit. They want to do as they fucking please on the road, that’s all. Because with a modern electric car you can’t be a dick on the road, or the Machine will seize control of your vehicle and drive you wherever you were going in your stead.

They said the HUD was distracting. But it was a car without one whose driver was distracted. And it cost Eric his wife.

His phone suddenly rang. He could feel his face flush red from embarrassment, even though the church was empty. He did not believe in God, and yet the place somewhat intimidated him. If his wife saw him here… he chuckled. She would not be happy. She would begin her rant about the existence of god, and the idiocy of the bible. She was right. She was always right.

He sat up, and left the place before finally checking out the message on the phone. It was a new model, completely holographic, only usable if you had the right implants. And he had them, his job required it.

It was an ad. Not just a random ad like decades before, those didn’t exist anymore. A targeted ad, the closest thing one could experience before being contacted by the Machine itself directly. It was basically a way for it to tell you ‘hey, check this out’. And it always knew what you wanted. What you needed.

This wasn’t different. It was an advert from the TSA, the Technocracy Space Agency, about a new mission for the moon. They were looking for qualified personnel.

“A permanent lunar base… these guys are nuts.” He laughed. Those guys. And the Machine had sent him the application ‘form’, which basically only needed him to say it out loud somewhere his phone could listen. That’s right. Paperwork was almost non-existent in an era when a sentient entity who was basically a God governed everything. From trains to street lights, to the entirety of bureaucracy to banking. Everything was Machine.

His childhood dream. Going to space. The reason he graduated in engineering and one of the main driving forces in his life. In time, he had to abandon such dream. He had a life, a wife and a future planned together. Now he had none of those. He only had his dream.

“Alright. I accept. I will need a taxi.” He said out loud, and his phone beeped confirmation. A hologram of the city appeared, tracking the taxi in real time. It was practically at his doorstep already. Damned AI, it knew he was going to accept and had sent the taxi to his house beforehand. It was handy, though. He didn’t really mind.

The compound was in the middle of nowhere, as was custom for launch sites. It had massive glass doors, which slid open as soon as he approached them. Inside, occupying the majority of the hall’s ceiling space, was a model representation of the New Apollo space shuttle. And on top of it was mounted the Moonbase Alpha core module. The very center of their new city far away from Earth.

The whole thing was holographic, and it moved and responded to his thoughts as he wondered about its structure and its design.

“It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?”

“Uh?” He turned around to see a middle-aged man, fifty-five perhaps, gazing at the ceiling next to him. He didn’t hear him come. “Oh, yes, it is.”

“You must be Eric Middens” He held out a hand. “Luke. No last name needed. Not that I’d tell you if you asked. It’s one of the best guarded useless state secrets ever.”

Eric turned around to face the man. “It’s you?”

Luke laughed. “What an odd reaction. Yeah, it’s me. In the flesh.” The hologram flickered momentarily before stabilizing again. “Shit, I’m busted. Alright, not in the flesh. The Machine had to troll me and ruin my epic appearance.”

Eric raised an eyebrow. “I see. Nice trick, by the way. Is it projected or is it physical?” He asked. He was not one to be intimidated by the presence of the man himself, and rather he was much more captivated by the impressive feat of technology before him.

“Projected directly into your implant. Yes, to the average observer you are talking to yourself like a madman.” He laughed, then stopped suddenly. “Not that it matters. When I was young people would have looked at you sideways, you know?”

“You are not that old.” Eric said, raising an eyebrow. He knew the feeling, though. When holo displays first came he was a little child, and seeing all those people talking to themselves and gesturing to the air was very odd.

“Well, you’re what…” He paused to read something. “Ah, 32. That’s why you don’t really know the extent of the strangeness here. I’m still having issues getting used to it, and I can see every hologram that exists, no matter how private.” He leaned closer. “It’s just that I choose not to, because I’m a nice guy.” He whispered.

“I… I see. Well, thank you, I guess?”

“You’re very welcome. Now, go on ahead and do your thing. I only wanted to have a look at you.” He disappeared, his projected image just ceasing to exists in the digital space of Eric’s vision.

“What an odd guy.” Eric laughed and went on his way to the briefing room, as instructed by his holo HUD.

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