Nothing
As much as it wanted to take the first option, it felt that it could not ignore what had happened the past months. It had been irreparably changed, and if the normalcy were to be returned, it couldn't help but be bored. Yes, that was wrong, and yes, boredom had been the cause of all its problems but it couldn't help it. Once everything was fixed, it would have nothing to do except watch the commune repeat the same thing over and over again and contemplate the meaninglessness of its own life. It felt that there was some greater truth that was being hidden by the central command, and the question stabbed into its mind again. What were they up to? Why did they purposely fail? It could try to find out, ask the men when they came into the palace but it felt that it would never be told. And if it tried to find out on its own; well it knew what was to become of 541588. Despite its pity of 541588, much of 541588's thoughts and feelings were now being echoed in its mind. It couldn't bear to live out its life in repetition, with empty purpose. It had apologised for being bored before and for seeking out something different in its life as if it were wrong. That was how the central command made it feel. But the central command wasn't infallible, it had been wrong before, it had sent those incompetent men before, why couldn't it be wrong about the most important thing of all? Maybe the whole world was flawed, maybe 541588 was right. 0 had had an epiphany of sorts the previous day, realising that freedom was a curse rather than blessing. That freedom, freedom was being free to fail, free to see its work ruined, to see its person destroyed. But now it realised an even deeper truth: this destructive force of freedom wasn't intrinsic to freedom itself. No, they were impositions of the central command. When it had allowed 541588 to do what it had wanted, it had failed the standards of the central command, but not of anything else, not of any objective standard. But what could it do? If it ignored the central command, it would be destroyed, if it followed what the central command wanted, it would live an empty life. The choices were equal and horrible. Maybe it could ask them to erase its memory and condition it and allow it to live in the commune? This seemed like the only possibility that would end its discontent, and it was plausible; they might do it. But then, it didn't know why, but it felt there were some things that it did not want to lose at any cost. It couldn't stand to have its mind wiped, all its of experiences count for nothing, to start again as a different person. None of the options were palatable. None made sense. The problem remained impossible to resolve and 0 continued to think in circles.
Chapter Twenty
There was a knock on the door. They were here now. 0 tentatively opened the door, and behind it stood the person with whom it had been communicating, along with several other imposing men. It flushed out all that it had just been thinking and eked out a greeting.
"Hello."
Silence.
"Thank you so much for dealing with all the problems, getting it all solved."
0 took a step back and they crowded into the room and settled around it. One of the men standing behind 0 had lifted its weapon and pointed to the back of 0's head. 0 didn't notice. The grand master stopped directly opposite it.
"Bu?but I have a question. Why didn't you send all these people the first time?"
The grand master did not answer the question, so 0 repeated itself, louder this time.
"Why didn't you send-"
As 0 was speaking, the grand master tilted its chin down a fraction of an inch, then calmly cupped its hands over its ears. The man behind 0 pulled the trigger. It was not a tranquiliser this time and 541588 heard the loud shot ring out as it was entering the palace.
Something was up. It slowed down and gripped its shovel with both hands in a ready to swing position as it walked up the stairs and towards the source of the noise. There was a large crate outside one the doors and once 541588 got close, it could hear talking from inside the room behind the door. It paused outside and tried to listen in on the conversation, but the walls shielded the noise too well. It slinked to the opposite side of the crate, crouched down and began to think through what was to be its next steps.
Those on the other side of the door were probably the men from the helicopter. It had snuck past it on its way in, sitting docile on the lawn. But even if it wasn't them, why did it matter? The leader, or a group of leaders were inside there; they certainly weren't going to be the normal commune folk. What did matter, was that they were trapped in a confined space, unaware that 541588 was just on the other side of the door. Now was definitely the time to strike. It decided that it would open the door, smash it down if it were locked, then charge in, swinging in a frenzy, injuring as many as possible. Once they began to recover, it would move to just outside the room, and there it could take them one on one as they tried to exit through the doorway. It was a good plan.
However, as it stood up to begin, it noticed the knob turning and the door opening. Change of plan. It hurried behind the opening door and readied its shovel. The door opened. A man exited.
541588 was taken aback for a moment as it saw him. He was an ugly creature, his face deformed by scars and wrinkles, his hair ragged and knotted. The man moved to the crate, right in front of 541588. As 541588 watched him, it felt a powerful wave of hatred well up inside it. He was the man in the helicopter with the gun. It swung, and the blade connected with the man's neck. He screamed and fell to the ground squirming, blood all over him. The next hit connected with his back, and he screamed again. But 541588 was not finished; another strike caught him on his arm, then another on his head. By then, others had begun to exit the room as well. 541588 turned to the first of them, who looked different but equally ugly to the one lying on the floor. He lunged forward, trying to grab the shovel, but 541588 stepped backwards, pivoted, before planting its shovel against his head, knocking him to the ground. There was a shout from inside the room: "Don't kill it!" and the others stepped back inside and closed the door before 541588 could follow them in. 541588 took this opportunity to inflict more pain on the two who were still left outside in the corridor with it. Then it tried the knob, but it was held tightly from the inside. It began to smash the shovel against the door as it waited for them to yield. Eventually there was another shout from inside the room, "I've got it!" and the door swung open abruptly. 541588 swung violently with its shovel as soon as it did, but it only caught the air. The others were far back at the opposite side of the room.
541588 looked at them all with a menacing stare. Then it stormed in, consumed by furious energy. It didn't even notice the tranquiliser dart that sailed into its chest, and the dart didn't seem to have any effect as 541588 continued forward. Its tiredness and acceptance of defeat was gone and buried, replaced by pure energy, pure adrenaline. It was a different person who had had those thoughts and feelings. The second dart lodged itself on its torso, but still 541588 lurched forward. The grand master had his hand in his pocket, wondering whether it would have to use his gun. Suddenly, however, 541588 stumbled, tripping on the body of 0, and the men took this opportunity and leapt at it, pinning it to the ground and removing its shovel in the process. 541588 clawed and shook and roared, but they held it tight, and waited as the anaesthetic took its effect.
The grand master left the room to check on the two who had been brutalised by 541588. They were smattered in blood, defaced with bruises and still writhing in pain. He knelt down next to one of them and laid gentle hand on its back. He reached his other hand into his pocket and leant the gun gently on the man's head. A shot. There was a groan from the other, and the Grand Master turned to him and soon his suffering too was alleviated. Then, the grand master dragged the two of them along the corridor and put them against the wall, before pushing the crate into the room.
541588 was unconscious now and the men were slumped along the sides of the room and on the bed, wearing empty expressions on their faces. The grand master faced each of the men, granting them a nod and a slight smile.
"Well, it's over. You have all done a good job, a great service to our world. Thank you."
&n
bsp; There was a short pause.
"And, well, I spoke to you all earlier, and I think you all know what happens now."
He lingered idly for a few moments, looking over each of them again before handing his gun to the one closest to it. Then he left, dragging 541588 and 0 outside. The gun was received into willing hands; the man quickly inspected it and then brought it to a rest in front of his own face. The recoil flung the gun out of his hands and it landed neatly onto his lifeless lap. The rest of them had their turn, each committing the solemn ritual without hesitation, and after the succession of loud cracks the room descended into a deep silence. The grand master was dragging 541588 into another room when it heard the last of the noise. He didn't go back, didn't think about it, just continued on its way, lifting 541588 onto an empty bed.
Chapter Twenty-One
541588 woke and saw the hideous being staring down at it. Its previous excitement had worn away with the anaesthetic and it was exhausted. It looked around. It was in a small room, lying on a bed, the man sitting on a chair, draped in black cloth. A door was at the foot of the bed. It closed its eyes again, and tried to find its bearings in time in its head. What had happened before it fell asleep? It remembered lying in its bed in its room, then running outside to do something. To do what? The memory eluded it, but it had a feeling that it was for some important task. It opened its eyes again. The man in the chair had not moved. 541588 shifted in the bed and attempted to sit up, but was forced to back into its original position by a searing pain in its upper back. This was too strange. 541588 closed its eyes again and promptly fell asleep.
The grand master waited patiently for 541588 to recover from the anaesthetic. He had some concern regarding the others, and feared that they might continue 541588's crusade when they woke. The psychologists in the central command had predicted that they would either return to their apartments or stay where they were, and while the grand master trusted them, he still felt a growing discomfort the longer he idled. He wanted to complete his plans before anything went wrong, but he also wanted to speak to 541588. He was forced by curiosity. He was no different from 0.
541588 woke up again, this time having recovered the full extent of its mental faculties. The ugly man was still there. Seeing him closely now it saw spots and stretchmarks on his face along with the wrinkles and white hair. He was old. He had to be from the central command like the others, but 541588 was too weak for animosity. "Where am I?"
"Still in the palace."
Yes, the palace. 541588 now remembered that it had come to the palace to kill the leader of the commune and had instead succeeded in bashing two men from the central control.
"What happened to the people you were with?"
"You killed two of them. The rest, they're gone now."
Killed them? At least that was a success.
"Who are you?"
"I'm the leader of the central commune."
541588 was quiet as it digested this new information. The leader of the central commune was right there. But it was still too weak.
"What are you going to do to me?"
"You'll be killed of course, but before that, I've decided to humour you. That's why I'm here, and you're still alive."
541588's expression remained neutral. It did not want to provide the man any satisfaction.
"Well since you're the leader you should be able to explain-"
"Explain what?"
"This world. Why do you oppress freedom and force a monotonous existence onto us?"
"I believe that you have read the pamphlet. The answers to your questions were explained forcefully and clearly there."
"No they weren't. The author just claimed that freedom was non-existent. That's not my experience. I feel free and I am free. And so was the author of that pamphlet and the authors of all the other books I've read. And so are you. Freedom clearly exists and it is completely benign. And it's only in freedom that things happen. That objects of beauty and interest are created. Our current world is dreary and repetitive. Nothing happens."
"Are you happy?"
"Why does it matter?"
"Are you happy?"
"No. I'm not."
"Well you're free and you're still unhappy."
"No. I'm unhappy because I'm not properly free. You and the others destroyed my mission to achieve full freedom. That is the source of my unhappiness."
"Then do you suppose that in a time when people were 'free' as you take the word to mean, people were happy? I'll tell you now, they weren't. Those works, those books you read were written by people who struggled with unhappiness, weighed down by their freedom and the freedom of their world. Works of beauty and interest, or whatever you crave, are only produced in unhappy states. A perfectly content person does not seek to change and create. And it is obvious that happiness is more important than unhappy creations. That is why our world is as it is."
"But it's not just happiness. When I was completely without freedom, before my rebellion, my experience also felt empty and meaningless."
"Well how is that different to how you feel now? Life is intrinsically meaningless. The only fulfilment is in ignorance, in distraction. It's always been like this. Before any organised society had been established, people were kept ignorant to the meaninglessness of their lives by the struggle for survival. In more recent history, it was in the attainment of material wealth and fame. But these distractions were unbalanced. People who conquered these distractions began to see the truth of the world, and those who failed were left unfulfilled and unhappy. Upon understanding this, it was only natural that a world was established in which a marriage of distraction and fulfilment was achieved. This is the world which we live in today."
"No, I've thought about this too. Life may be meaningless, but it is possible to impose meaning with freedom. That was how I found meaning. I imposed it myself. And that was why my goal of achieving universal freedom felt worthy and important."
"You're very wrong. You haven't imposed anything."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you're not free; not in any sense of the word. You've been controlled by us in the central command your whole life."
"What? That's ridiculous. You couldn't have. Did you want me to wander into the palace and read those subversive books? Or to convert others to my noble cause? To destroy the food of this commune and kill two of your allies?"
"Yes, to everything. There's no BCM inside you. You aren't conditioned properly. The books were right there for you to read. We didn't intervene for months. Did you seriously think this was all just a lucky coincidence? You know the commune. It is perfectly efficient. Mistakes don't happen, and if they did they would be corrected very quickly. No, I created you for a task, my task, to show the others in the central command that a commune could be destroyed if we were not careful[,]; but there was no danger. You were under our control the whole time. You can stop pretending that you are anything else, that you are special, that you can choose to impose meaning. I've imposed everything onto you."
"I chose to go to the library myself, picked the books that I wanted to read myself. The contents of the books did shape my views but they were combined with my own judgements and perceptions."
"You still don't understand. I'm telling you the truth. You didn't really pick the books yourself, or choose to go to the library. It may have seemed like it, but we placed the books there for you. We knew your nature, shaped your nature, and had the books we wanted you to read dressed up, placed in optimal positions to ensure that you would read them. And we knew exactly what effect those books would have on you because we created you and moulded you to be affected the way we wanted."
"You couldn't have known. You couldn't have known that I would end up killing two of your comrades. That I would starve the whole commune. You couldn't have predicted that. I made those decisions after thinking deeply myself, alone. Hours spent considering different possibilities. I had failures before successes, went down wrong routes b
efore finding the correct path. You're telling me that you all put that inside of me, forced it to happen. Don't be ridiculous. And what if I didn't pick the books you wanted me to? Changed my mind, which I could easily have done at any moment. Your plan would have collapsed."
"How do I make this clearer? We predicted and controlled everything, every aspect. If we thought that you might not pick the books we wanted, we would've given them to you directly. But we knew that you would choose them in the conditions we set up for you, without any doubt. We knew that you might kill some people. But that was always part of our plan. Why do you think you have been subdued so easily now?"
541588 looked around, looked down at itself and then turned back to the Grand Master.
"So you're like Ingsoc, controlling absolutely everything."
The grandmaster's face darkened for a moment, and his lips curled upwards but his smile did not reach his eyes.
"Yes, we do control everything, but we are nothing like Ingsoc. How have you not realised this already? That society is one based on maintaining power for those in control. That society is a selfish one. As you well know, our goal is only achieving happiness and wellbeing for everyone. That is what our world is based on. Absolute control is just a necessary component of this. Unlike Ingsoc, where the leaders are happily and malevolently powerful, our leaders and controllers are the ones that are most unhappy; you as well of course, and I'm sorry that we picked you for fulfilling a task that doomed you to unhappiness."
541588 turned away again, was silent for a long time gathering its thoughts. Did that man know what it was thinking now? Or did he only control the actions and not the thinking behind it? No that couldn't be right. He wouldn't be there arguing if he knew everything it was thinking. Eventually, 541588 turned back to the grand master and continued his questioning.
"What did I dream?"
"What?"
"You heard me. What did I dream?"
"You've never had any." Dreams had been modified out of the people in the commune, and there was nothing in what they changed in 541588 that could've affected that. Or at least that was what the scientists in the commune had said.