After that first shock, Martin told Chester he had not told Audric about Chester squirreling GPS-less money away. Chester believed him but decided to quit the job. Over the course of the next several weeks, Chester continued to get shocked, and the dream usually involved a squirrel, Julie, and Paul. One day, he lifted up the baseboard in his room expecting to find nothing, and he found forty pounds of GPS tagged money. It was then he came to realize that Paul had put the money there, so he would continue getting shocked.
Chester knew that if he told the authorities Paul might have had his acceptor removed. Then he would be at the mercy of natural depression which according to Genesis Smith was the greatest enemy of society. The depression would subside leaving him emotionless because so much of his life had been spent with an acceptor, and he’d spend the rest of his life as a zombie that made only proper financial decisions. But if Chester reported Paul to the Audric Earnings Authority, he’d have to admit he worked for Martin at the shop and then he’d be at risk of having his own acceptor removed. Although it was more likely he’d just be shocked.
Now, Chester was at the top of the shock board with no hope for a decent income and bad marks in Limited Education. Life seemed hopeless. Something had to give.
GORDY
Gordy and Brian were becoming good friends. Brian was a videogame aficionado in America and he and Gordy had a lot to talk about. Gordy wore different leather jackets from Generation Gold, which was one of the big three companies, and his black bangs came down past his eyebrows. Like Pierre, he was a twentieth century buff. He spent his nights on the computer, playing games. His favorite game was called Master Kill, in which one had to decide who of several people to kill, and then plot the murders. Based on one’s choices one learned about one’s proclivities and personality attributes.
Gordy was showing Brian his collection of games after school when Brian decided to share something. He pulled a cell-phone out of his pocket. “It’s called the internet,” he said. “One can search for pretty much anything one wants. It’s a network of information.” He typed in alligators and showed Gordy the information it brought up.
“Type in Audric,” Gordy said. “See what it says.”
Brian did so. Then he read, “Audric is a type of society that became popular after brain
mapping and understanding the human genome concluded in the late 22nd century. It involves a radical method of preventing depression involving acceptors that set up shop in a person’s brain after having been injected into their blood stream at a young age. It is generally believed to be one of the most successful societies to come out of the end of the twenty-second century.”
“Shit’s freaking awesome,” Gordy said taking the phone from him. “Why didn’t Audric tell anyone?”
“People know. They say after the digitization of books and periodicals they realized that the internet was unnecessary. And the Audric Earnings Authority wanted people to spend as much time at the Athenaeum as possible. That’s one of the reasons why they put Athenaeums in shopping malls.”
“You thought at all about what happened to Pierre?” Gordy said, as he booted up the computer.
“Tried to kill himself,” Brian said.
“Nah. No way. Not Pierre.”
“It’s gotta be tough. Being at the top all the time. Being Pure Pierre, with no shocks. He
just wanted an out.”
Gordy shrugged. “I’d almost agree, given that it was the thirteenth floor, all 18th century philosophy. But I know Pierre. He wouldn’t try to kill himself.”
“What do you think he was doing on the thirteenth floor then? He said he doesn’t even remember. What a crock.”
“I’ll find out. I’m sure we all will.” Gordy clicked on Master Kill and then turned the computer screen towards Brian. “I’ll show you how to kill Napoleon Bonaparte and give a speech to his troops. Check this out.”
MAX
Max wanted to work for Audric Earnings Authority -- mainly because he liked their uniforms which were clad with dark blue lights. In a couple of weeks, he was going on a trip to Southwick Harbor to familiarize himself with the Audric Earnings Authority Headquarters. He planned on telling them he could read a book in a half-hour, and that he’d like to be considered for final authority on publishing permissions. All books had to be approved by the Audric Earnings Authority. Hardly any books were rejected, but Audric wanted to be sure certain subjects weren’t touched. Of course, no one knew what those subjects were. Max planned on finding out.
After school, Max played baseball in a volunteer league. He was pitching this afternoon and it often brought him happiness. He didn’t know if the happiness was natural or if it was a serotonin boost from his acceptor. But that was incidental. The important thing was that he enjoyed the company of his teammates. But today, everyone seemed to be watching him more closely than usual.
Everyone wanted to know what happened to Pierre. Apparently, everyone in the south of England had read the article and wanted to know if he’d tried to kill himself or if he’d been thrown through the window. The latter seemed so improbable, and the former so intriguing. Max planned on getting through the whole game without saying anything about it.
****
Pierre left Entrepreneurial Etiquette, having given a short update on his new type of soda bottle, which was inspired by the Orangina bottles of the twentieth century. He’d spoken of where the GPS tracker would be embedded and how to maximize the amount of liquid in the bottle while minimizing the awkwardness of carrying it. He was in good spirits, but as he entered the Athenaeum at the shopping mall, he knew that was about to change.
He saw a big TV monitor that was playing a documentary on the history of digitization. Most books and periodicals were in electronic form. But some obscure subjects were still in old book form. It was done to discourage people from reading them, although no one knew that. The books on the thirteenth floor were all in print form. They were all esoteric philosophy long since thought to have little merit.
Pierre took the elevator to the thirteenth floor and became scared by how unfamiliar it all seemed. In front of the elevator was the reading room, with couches and chairs, all luxurious and ornate. He walked around the stacks of books to the window he must have gone through. It was about eleven feet high and four feet wide, all glass, and it had been repaired. Pierre felt the quickness of his heartbeat, and a lump in his throat, but none of this seemed familiar. He walked down the aisle closest to the window and scanned each row of books. John Paul Sartre, Adam Smith, other names. He’d never heard of any of them. Then something caught his attention. One of the books had a bookmark in it. He looked at the spine: Friedrich Nietzsche Popular Quotations.
Pierre had never heard of Friedrich Nietzsche. He pulled the book from the shelf, his heart beating so fast it felt still as a rock. He pulled the bookmark out and looked at the pages it indicated. In the top left corner was an icon: a die with five dots on it. It didn’t need explaining. It was the Gamblers logo, trademark, and identifier. Gamblers were a rogue group that lived among them, the greatest enemy of Audric, but nonetheless a permissible and necessary part of their society.
In yellow highlighter, one paragraph was singled out:
The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself. – Nietzsche.
Pierre had never met a Gambler and wasn’t planning on it. He closed the book and put it back. Then he looked at the bookmark.
2031 Christmas Bells Lane. Come alone.
Pierre had seen photos of Gamblers in the newspaper often taken after they raided a facility. The coverage included quotes from them about how the raid went and always stressed that they did not use their weapons. The reporter would say how many people had abandoned Audric and defected to a
Gamblers lifestyle. Gamblers usually dressed in motorcycle garb from the twentieth century, tattered clothing, or vintage wear from an independent retailer.
Pierre had never celebrated Christmas. He had heard stories about a Messiah who was supposed to bring peace to mankind and Pierre knew a lot of the world had believed in him. When Audric announced the brain mapping and scans from forty years ago had indicated that neural activity decreased to the point of a standstill during Messianic worship, and increased during periods of prayer to God himself, it sent a shock wave through the religious community. The Gamblers maintained that it was not true, and was simply disinformation to further belief in Genesis Smith’s book, The Financially Prudent World.
Pierre had swim class today which consisted of mastering various types of strokes and games. When Pierre was a kid he was worried the water would go in his ears and affect his acceptor. He’d never been a good swimmer. Getting wet, even in the shower, always made his skin crawl. His fellow classmates knew this and made no small effort to give him a hard time about it. The chief antagonist was a kid named, Ethan Chadwick, who was stellar at Water Polo.
Ethan had black hair that covered his right eye, and a little smile on his lips which always looked red. He studied Vintage Fashion Design which made him suspect to everyone for wanting to be a Gambler. Pierre knew he was gay, as did many people, but that was of little consequence to anyone. He often walked by Pierre on his way to Vintage Fashion Design and usually had a snarky remark.
“Hey Pierre,” Ethan said, a half-smile on his face like always. “Did you hear about the bet?”
Pierre almost ignored him, but curiosity got the better of him. Pierre stopped in his tracks and turned to him.
“We told Audric we bet you thirty pounds we would beat you at Water Polo today.”
This was worth more attention that Ethan’s standard remarks. It was entirely possible
they had told Audric about the supposed bet. Audric would investigate it before giving a shock to either of them, and if there was no bet, Ethan would be in big trouble. Pierre was surprised Ethan would even take the risk. Pierre certainly wouldn’t.
“You joking?” Pierre asked. “I didn’t agree.” Pierre didn’t become Pure Pierre for nothing and he prided himself on negotiating problems like this one well.
Ethan raised his eyebrows. “Do you agree?”
Pierre swallowed then shook his head. “No.”
“You even wonder why you didn’t get shocked for trying to kill yourself?”
“Because I didn’t try to kill myself.”
Ethan gave another half-smile. “Exactly.” He walked towards Pierre. “We did tell Audric about the bet. If you tell them otherwise, we’ll tell them you confessed to us that you tried to kill yourself.”
Pierre felt his face grow red. “You can’t do that.”
“Dude. We already did.” Ethan began to walk away. “See you in swim class.”
This got Pierre thinking even harder than he had been the past three days. The five-dot die in the Nietzsche book meant that he was probably mixed up with Gamblers. He could tell Audric this and they would begin an investigation. But investigate what? David Thindrel had said they had no leads. If Pierre found out how Audric decided to handle this supposed bet between Ethan and him, he might learn why his attempted murder wasn’t being seriously investigated. He needed to ascertain what Audric had planned for him, and then, more importantly, what the Gamblers wanted.
“Do what you’re told. You’re good at that.”
That sentence had been clanging around in his mind. After entering the Athenaeum, the last thing he could remember was someone saying those words. He was beginning to think that this sentiment defined all his choices. He was beginning to think, he wanted to do something other than what he’d been told.
Swim class began at 1:10, after the students changed into their swim clothes. When Pierre walked out of the locker room, clad in bathing suit, and a blue swim cap, feeling an intense determination, he saw the 25 yard swimming pool, the clear blue water, and his heart sank. Ethan could do the butterfly and breast stroke perfectly. How was he ever going to beat Ethan in Water Polo? He thought back to the time he’d made the C3PO packaging for James Rabb. He’d felt confident then, and while he realized he was taking the higher road now as he had then, he sure didn’t feel confident now.
He pulled his goggles off his forehead and put them over his eyes. Ethan was right: today was water polo. There were twelve others in his swim class. They’d divide into teams of five, including a goalie. Pierre hoped Chester and Max were on his team. Mr. Bradley was the referee. As Pierre walked over to the side of the pool to join his classmates, he saw Ethan put his hair over his ear and give Pierre a wink.
Pierre wasn’t skinny or fat. If anything he was a bit bulky. It didn’t make sense that swimming should tire him out as much as it did. He thought his dislike of the activity played a role in depleting his energy. His biggest fear was swimming deep under water. He dreaded diving, and even more so retrieving objects from the bottom of the pool.
Shortly after Pierre sat, they divided up into teams. Chester was on his team which meant Pierre might tell him about the bet. If Pierre’s team won, Ethan would get shocked. If Pierre’s team lost, Pierre would get shocked. Of course, if Pierre reported there had never been any bet, Ethan might even have his acceptor removed. Doing something as gutsy as what Ethan was doing was rare among the Audric Compliant, and stupid.
Chester had the best arm of any of them, but in the first huddle, he said he wanted to play goalie. Water polo was generally a low scoring game, but because of Mr. Bradley’s often calling fouls, each team could score more points than more advanced players would. There would be four quarters of five minutes each. Pierre told himself it was just like playing soccer, which he supposed was similar – trying to get the ball in the goal – but it was rarely of much reassurance.
The first quarter ended with no goals. Ethan’s team wore red swim caps and Pierre’s team wore blue. Ethan played goalie for the red team and made several stops. In the second quarter, Selin Garcia, a player on Ethan’s team got called for a foul, and had to sit on the side of the pool. This meant Pierre’s team had a better chance of scoring and had to make the most of it. Chester told Max to take the goalie position and went after the goal opposite with abandon. Pierre swam towards the goal, received a pass from Chester, and buried the ball in the corner of the goal. The team cheered. Ethan gritted his teeth.
In the third quarter, Ethan decided not to play goalie. Pierre decided he’d play defense on solely Ethan. As they swam towards Pierre’s goal Ethan raised his left arm and hit Pierre in the face. Mr. Bradley didn’t see. It angered Pierre to the point where he pushed Ethan back towards where he came from. This enraged Ethan and he jumped on top of Pierre clawing at his swim cap and goggles. The swim cap and goggles came off and sunk together to the bottom of the pool.
Mr. Bradley blew the whistle and called a foul on Ethan. Ethan sat on the side of the pool, a little smile on his face, urging his team onwards to even the score. Pierre’s eyes darted around as he wondered if anyone would notice he didn’t want to swim to the bottom of the pool to retrieve his goggles and swim cap. His hair collected in front of his eyes and he had to continually part it. Chester, of course, knew what Pierre was worried about but saw no need to say anything and embarrass him. At that moment, Selin leaped up and launched the ball above Max’s head and into the goal.
The fourth quarter arrived, with Mr. Bradley’s keen eye discouraging Pierre about speaking of the bet, and letting his team members know how important this game was to him. The score was tied 1 – 1 when they were halfway through the fourth quarter. If it stayed that way, it occurred to Pierre the bet would be nullified. Maybe that was for the best. But as he swam the length of the pool, severely exhausted, he couldn’t deny, he wanted his reward. He wanted Ethan shocked.
With two minutes left in the game, Pierre realized that Selin knew about the bet. The knowledge came in the form of a glance Selin made at Pierre after high fiving with Ethan. So that was why Selin was playing so hard. If Pierre’s team mates knew about the bet it might be to Pierre’s advantage, Pierre thought. Then, in the last two minutes, Chester got fouled within the five meter area of the goal. When they huddled together to decide who would take the penalty shot, Pierre told Chester the truth.
Then Pierre said, “I can take the shot.”
“I can make it,” Chester said. Pierre believed him.
Chester set up for the penalty shot with Ethan playing goalie, the little smile gone from his face, replaced by a severe expression, eyebrows drawn. Chester knew that the trick was looking in one direction and throwing in the other. Chester looked to the left side of the goal, and threw the ball into the right. He landed on the netting, and Ethan slammed his palms against the water, angry.
Pierre felt elated. He stared at Ethan until he looked in his direction and winked back at him. In the next minute or so of play no one scored, which meant Pierre was home free. As Chester and he walked back to the school, Pierre told Chester some of what had been bothering him of late.
He told him of the Gamblers insignia and the Nietzsche quote. “I feel like I’m underwater all the time now. With foggy goggles and no idea how much air I have left.”
“You gotta fight your way up. Get a lay of the land. Figure out where you stand.”