Hey! Sorry for butchering the title, it’s a mouthful.
Just reaching out: We’re looking for collaborators on our chain story! We’re hoping to turn it into a novel! (maybe).
The authors are Samasya Tapasya, myself (varjakbaby), and pretty word for ugly thoughts (is that his name or just the name of his blog?). Please leave a comment if you would like to contribute! We’re sort of writing sections out of order at this point in time so we could really use some help!
Full story available on request, and previous sections published (just search for “Civilization was Created by Few, Built by Many and Given to Most” on WordPress).
(early end to the workday, and an intro to the politics of the story):
Elijah was nearly finished debugging when South Silicon City experienced a power outage, the third in four weeks. Like the previous two, residence of SSC were not given an estimated time of when the issue would be resolved, but in the past, power outages were fixed within a few hours, though it seemed to have progressively gotten worse, despite SSC containing 3/4ths of the tech industry in SC and each hour the county was down, companies lost a collective three billion dollars. The government reported the cause of these outages to be equipment failures, the result of the much rushed conversion from standard power to solar power the city implemented shortly after its creation, but they had no response to the failure of redundant power systems that kept the servers operating, creating suspicions that the cause was sabotage. Add in the fact that SSC had the least amount of residence in the city—most of it being wealthy executives, city employees, athletes, musicians, and the rest of those considered SC’s aristocracy—and the only other county experiencing similar outages was North Silicon City, where most of the remaining tech companies in SC were located.
Elijah was the first to ask to go home.
“The debugging is just about done. I only need an hour or two once power is restored to finish up, test run and implement. I’m off in an hour anyways, so I can just finish up at home, or on the train if the servers come back up. Either way, it will be done before midnight tonight, in time for a test run on the West Coast domain early morning, and if everything goes as planned, we’ll implement it world wide by noon tomorrow,” I spit at my boss through vibrating lips, forgetting that I only speak in paragraphs when I’m on one.
“I put our coffee machine out of business,” I follow up with an awkward laugh, hoping that would suppress suspicions that I’ve been putting coke in my coffee instead of sugar.
“Fine. But you know what will happen if it’s not done,” she responded with crossed arms and punchable frown.
I know what will happen? No I don’t, bitch, what the fuck is that supposed to mean, a threat? I thankfully only thought.
I ran to my desk to grab all my stuff, paranoid that the power might come on just in time for my boss to renege.
Before jumping on the shuttle to the train station, I smoked a hipster spliff to calm down.
The shuttle in and around Talk Corp was the only high speed transit SC had. The train lines across SC still operated on outdated technology. After 40 years of planning, California was still without a high speed rail. At first it was just a matter of funding, but now it was a matter of partisan politics. Southern California miraculously turned Republican over the course of ten years. First, the New Republican party proposed and passed an amnesty bill better than the Green Party had ever even proposed. Second, a national emergency was declared by the President over the treatment of Mexican immigrants on both the American and Mexican side of the border. The Cartel Wars, that killed more than five hundred thousand people, some of which were Americans, was acknowledged by the government, allowing the reallocation of military funds used in projects across the world to be used to fight the brutal war raging on the continent. Joint military operations from the US and Mexican military crippled every cartel in Central America. This, followed by the legalization of drugs in all of Mexico, and parts of the US, destroyed the remaining cartels, making America and Mexico the top drug exporters in the world, resulting in endless funds for the two countries to “use to combat addiction and provide support to families who’d previously been destroyed by drugs”. The final nail in the Democrats of Southern California’s coffin was a Wikileak exposing their decades long plan to exploit illegal immigration for votes, blocking bills regardless the positive effect they’d have on both Mexican Americans and Mexican immigrants. The border wasn’t open completely, but an immigration program presented by the New Republican Party in Southern California allowed more immigrants than ever before to enter America. These immigrants were placed in programs all across Southern and Central California that provided proper education and job placement. It’s not known if the radical change by the Republican party was done out of empathy or a stategic coup de tat to take back California, but the citizens didn’t really care, as long as it produced a positive outcome. Ever since then, the Democrats of Northern California and the New Republicans of Southern California have been at odds over any program that even slightly preferenced one over the other; one of them being the California High Speed Rail. This meant citizens in SC still had to travel an hour or more to get home, depending on the county.
I got to the train station right as one left. This is a bad thing to some, but for a misanthrope like myself, barely missing a train just means you’re one of the first to get on the next and catch a single seat in the back car. This isn’t a sure thing, occasionally rude people in the back will try to shove to the front, but I’m intimidating enough to keep the line cutters at bay, occasionally unleashing elbow jabs at those getting too close to me.
The next train was late, as usual, but I didn’t care as long as I got a spot in the back. The doors open and the race commenced. I sprinted down the aisle, jumped up the stairs two steps at a time, and got to my spot before any of the other passengers got to sit down.
Alone, in a train full of people saying things that don’t matter, blasting music.
“I put my headphones on for this world I ignore”
High and ready to ride.
(a love scene):
They made love. They made scintillating love. She squirmed like injection fluid while simultaneously dominating him completely. He locked eyes with hers, fiber optic cables wired to the central nervous system controlling this wrecked panoply-concoction of mystic, destructive, benevolent, revolutionary power right in front of him. She embodied in a fragile soul meant he probably could have forced his way in, but she somehow shut all doors, and then reopened them at will; temptation overload. The foreplay was the intercourse. She was dirty, unfair, and spirited with her movements, the skyscraper along her spine smooth and ridged under his fingers. Her back muscles twitched and strained under her minuscule frame, minuscule to him; she didn’t mean a damn thing to him. But the obvious truth–that he didn’t know–was a lie. His mind racing faster than his heart, he grasped at straws for arousing vocabulary. She preempted him:
“Send me your data.” She meant it. It wasn’t just cheese. She sounded like she meant it. It was completely fake. He was in love. The cognitive turnon factor was an exponential gain modifier on the sensuality of their motions. He wanted to be consumed by her, to be her brain slave, to be her revolutionary at a whim. The cycles timed and timed out again and again an again, like oscillating Argon laser pulses, sent down a beam splitter, refractors, focusers, and recombined with themselves to build a complete picture of their joint signal. It was unity, it was cohesion, it was building the city from the ground up–from underground up–into something new entirely. They were made. They had it. The moment she kissed him his anger came into play and he turned violent. She didn’t give a shit. In 2020 the animalistic urges still rose, as in the populous, but stronger. They were the people of SC, entangled in the mess of a system no one knew how to get out of. They were suddenly aware of the talk buddies, and they knew the mission would never be complete. Be complete. They knew.
What did she mean by that, “Send me your data?” He began to think, as they slowed down. An independent process in his mind, a relay circuit outside the main method loop, drew his attention and he wondered. It was a ridiculous thing, to be caught up in such a detail during that moment, but he couldn’t help but think it held some greater meaning. Everything was a mindfuck with her. He was being boned and his main method knew it, and the side process knew it.
The enhancers kicked in and his blood raged. He bit her on the neck, with some palpable force, somewhat more than a hickey, and she began to bleed. Her fingernails dug into his ass cheeks in response. He wouldn’t be able to sit comfortably for two weeks after that night. They continued this primal dance of love and lust for one hour and sixteen minutes, until the enhancers wore off, and they disengaged.
A meaningful silence hung between the two characters. E was first to speak.