Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Will



3.54.29—62/a
Office of Information – Restricted Resident Division
Report of Resident Safety Monitor Rudd ‘Door’ Burby
            My gracious respects, an honor.  An honor, most respected equal.
            So, resident Will, um, well, he spends his time buildin’ elaborate structures out of playing cards.  Yea-up, playing cards.  Paper ones, naturally.  Yeah, we gave him a deck.  It amazes Door how Will can balance them one on top of each other, or leaning, counterweighted just so, never tumblin’ till he wants them to.  Don’t mind Door talking in the third person.  Door is “me”, OK?  They call Door that ’cause he’s so stinkin’ wide; yeah, like a door.  But Will, he can just sit there doin’ it for hours and hours, you know?  Like he’s got nothing better to do.  Haha.  Yeah, Door’s quite the joker, ain’t he?  See, Will use to look up at the safety cameras every now and then, and Door’d wonder if maybe he knew it was him up there monitorizin’ him.  Shouldn’t know, though; shouldn’t be any way for him to know, as Door can figure.  Door’s never mentioned it, for sure.  But, that was more “used to,” and it’s a thing not happ’nin’ anymore.
So Door watches resident Will puttin’ together these houses of cards, and Door realizes, eventually, not right away, you know, but eventually, that although Will builds lotsa different structures, he always uses the cards in the deck we gave him in the same order, you follow?  Like a code or somethin’.  Like this:  first he takes one joker and he throws it, like as if he’s pretendin’ like he’s still all mad, huh, and it bounces off that padded wall and lands just to the left of the door, face down.  And then, he takes the other joker, and he does the same, ’cept he does so it lands just on the right side of the door, and it lands face up.  Weird?  Yeah, and Door has to watch him do this every stinkin’ day.  Now how can he do that so precise?  He certainly does know how to throw his cards.  But once he finished with the two jokers, real particular, he starts on the deck proper, so to speak.  Puts out the ace of diamonds an’ the ace of hearts, and leans them against each other, fine and proper.  That’s how it always starts, ev-er-eh single time, but then it changes from there.  You know, ’cause like Door said before, Will don’t build the same thing twice, not so long as Door’s been watchin’ him, least.  But the order’s always the same.  He works through the face cards of the hearts, then two through six of the spades, then the face cards of the clubs, then the ace of spades, then the queen of spades, then jack down through seven of spades, then the king of spades, then all the rest of the clubs, ’cept the ace, mindya, in what seems like a real freaky random order, and then ten down through two of hearts, and then the even numbers of diamonds and then the odd ones, a-and, las of all, he puts the ace of clubs on top of whateva structure he’s gone an’ built, and sometimes these things are half the width of the cell.  Honest truth, Door swears it.  Oh, and then he pulls out the queen of hearts, and the whole thing goes to the floor.
Alrightae, you want more particular?  Instances?  Ok, ooookay.  Lemme think a moment.  That’s right, you straighten that collar yours.  Heh-heh.  Yes, respected equal, okay.   Was the time, was the time, when, eh . . . when he described to Door how he used to drink in “establishments,” ’fore the Glorious Liberation.  Said to Door, “Door, listen to me very carefully as I explain this to you:  I would step into the bar, order something and sit down with it at my table in the back corner where I could see everyone and I would slowly sip my drink.  I knew exactly at what point it would start to give me that fuzzy feeling and I would always stop right before it hit me.”
And Door thought, “That’s impossible,” but what he said was, “An’ how’d that feel, Will?”  Door finds askin’ the resident how he feel can do a mighta good, times, let ’em know two things a’once:  ya care, you know?  So not disadvantagin’ them.  And you’re checkin’ up, keepin’ track, watchin’ like, and haven’t forgot ’em.
And Will looked at Door with dose wanderin’ eyes of his, and he said, “I shouldn’t answer that question.  Because you don’t really want to know.  You’re just asking to fill air space.  You and I, we don’t interact.  We just pretend to interact.  But to fulfill my need to feel that I’ve communicated, let out something of my soul, so as to avoid the oblivion of being ignored by history, I will tell you.  It felt like I was in control.  Alcohol couldn’t touch me; couldn’t control me.  I controlled it.  And I felt big for a moment; like I controlled everything.  Illusion.  Chimera.”
And, wouldn’t you know it, he wouldn’t say a word more after that.  Looked off into the distance, ’cept of course there wasn’t a distance to look off into, heh heh, but he was trying, and Door just gave him his nourishment injection for the day and went off and locked the door behind me and all, of course, but the rest of the day, that little speech of his just kept on runnin’ through Door’s head.  Couldn’t forget it, much as woulda liked to.  Be sitting at the desk watching Will pacin’ bout on the big screen and feel like was hearin’ that quiet, harsh voice of his again, talking on about control and illusion.
But, true be told, respected equal, I know what you’re looking for, here.  Looking for Door to tell you if Will could be the one in particular that we’ve been looking for all along.  But true be told, Door don’t see a resemblance to the old footage.  Neither in face nor in attitude.  Yeap, of course, most equal, Door knows that the countryside’s been searched thorough.  So he must be in here, huh?  That the line of reason?  Well, Door doesn’t say Door don’t agree with it.  Just it’s like this:  the Disruptor was all confi wasn’t he, all boom and bluster?  But this fellow, this Will, he’s a Cerebral for sure, and not un-dangerous Door won’t disagree, but he strikes Door as more of a wannabe, you know?  He’s got so many stories in his head, and he doesn’t right know which one he’s part of, Door’s thinkin’. 
Yes?  Yes, equal that is correct.  He did tell me a half again story ’bout the Disruptor, yes he did.  Well, okay.  It was like this:  Door comes in, you know, and Will’s sitting there in the far corner with his legs stretched out into the middle of the cell and he’s shufflin’ that card deck and eyeing it like it’s the last emotion-shot there is, and Door gets out his nourishment injection and try to lope over easy and make some sound brushin’ the door as comes through so don’t startle him, you know, but Will looks up, very knowin’-like, and he goes and says, “Not today, Door.”
So, Door’s a bit startled ’imself, as he’s sure you can appreciate, and so he asks, “Well, come on, Will, as blinky why not?”
And Will stops shufflin’.  And he says, “Let me tell you a story, Door.”
And Door think-checks his chrono and finds he’s actually forward of schedule anyhows, and he closes the door ’hind him for safety’s sake and says to Will, “’Kay, go ahead.”
And Door can’t be blamed if and he don’t remember all the ’xact words that resident Will used, but he started like and this:  “The Disruptor.”  And he pauses like, for dramatic ’fect, Door’s thinkin’, and he then he on-goes, “You and your people, your GL, and your Opportunity Advantagement, you got the Disruptor wrong.  He’s utterly unselfish.  What he seeks to break is the Mistake.”  And he went on like that, you know, with that kinda rhe-toric, for a little while, and Door stands there, and he nods, ’cause you wanta kinda lettem think you’re symp, you understand them, but then it was like Will ’membered he was meant to tell a story, not go spoutin’, and so he sits up straighter, and he looks Door in the face, kinda bold-like, and he gets this glintin’ behind his eye, you know what I mean?  And he says to Door, “The Disruptor once went six days without his injections, to let his friends have them.”
Here’s that when Door interrupts, askin’, “Friends?  Don’t you mean lovers?”
But, “No,” Will says, all dramatic like.  “I mean friends. Understand this:  the Disruptor believes that not all close relationships are, or must be, or should be, sexual in nature.  He looks to the example of history, the real history, as it was known before your Glorious L, and sees that friendship, mutual unselfish assistance and kindness, was much of what made the Old Nations work.  The death of friendship made your GL almost inevitable.  But that,” and there he paused again, kinda put-on art like, and he says all slowly, “that was not even my point.  The Disruptor knew how to sacrifice, and that,” he put his hand over his chest, “is my point.”
So, that’s probably what you wanted to know about, ain’t it, ’spected equal?  That was his only moment of Disruptor talk, though Door supposes there’re other moments wouldn’t meet anti-standards of hate or dogma rhetoric.  Talked ’bout failures, times, too, respected equal; how recipients weren’t as happy as they pretended to be, how “shortages” (his word not Door’s, I ’umbly point out) existed, and the what-like.  But Door knows for fact, from talkin’ to love-sharer of mine who efforts in this division as well, that the resident she watches also has such talkin’, times, and says others as well.
. . .  Well, you’re welcome, most ’spected equal, and always a pleasure for Door to be of serv-- er, to assist an equal of such great and honored equality as yourself, most equal.
Oh, really?  Door ain’t sure . . . means, is that nessecary?  Might not like it, Will, and sure and you won’t get straight answers out of him talkin’.  No, Door wasn’t suggestin’.  Yes, m’spected.  Uhum.  Door will do that.  And, please remember Door favorably, if his name does ’appen to come up in conversatin’ with, eh, other most equals.

3.54.70—55/c
Office of Information – Restricted Resident Division
Responses of Restricted Resident William Rethhouse
            Now that was an abrupt “question”, wasn’t it?  It that your style now, point blank?  I’m afraid it just will not work, not on me.  I’ve told your “equals” hundreds of times, I am not the Disruptor.
Grah!  Please, don’t do that again.  It’s a victory for me every time you hurt me, you know.  It proves how hypocritical your system has become.  It started well enough, of course, but you know what they say about noble intentions.  So by all means, let fly.  In the name of love, yes, hit me!  “Reconcile” me.  I have been offensive.
Graaaah!  I bite iron.  Physical pain shall do nothing to me.  The defense of old, infirm liberty is stronger than you give credit.  Beat and get blood, but our veins run deeper than you know in many bodies.  You shall not reach our heart by breaking skin.  Don’t sneer!  It’s unbecoming.  Pretend rather that you are posing for one of those Free Equity posters.
Graaah . . .  Don’t bother hitting me.  Uh.  I’m merely attempting to save you some trouble.  Physical abuse will accomplish nothing.  And I’m afraid I’m already rather broken psychologically.
Why of course I’ll answer some questions.
I am aware of the trouble the Disruptor has been causing.
Hmm.  Well, in my opinion, he serves a proper end with incorrect means. . . .        I mean it.
Because the extremity of them destroys any potential yield of recognition of his validity or legitimacy.
Well, that was a sudden change in direction.
Excellent question, actually.  What is the harm?  You’ve already eliminated them from your dire equation, anyway, haven’t you?  Oh, unaware, is it?  Well, I’ll get to it then.  Glean what you will.  I imagine your profiling books are already pretty full.  Enough to stock an Information department shelf, probably.
It was just before the endemic when I last saw them.  Me and some friends, (yes, there’s that subversive, offensive word again!) were at a concert.  You know, music.  Old days music, not like the post-ethnic stuff your unity-stations play now.  I received an alert, and my wife (long live such subversive concepts!) wanted me home for an early supper.  My two sons were there, eight and twelve and boisterous as ever.  The meal was delicious.  Maybe some of the last potatoes ever to be harvested and eaten.  I’ve almost forgotten what that was like, chewing and tasting.  I remember Lisa was quoting from a movie she’d seen at her cousin’s u-port half the supper hour, and explaining the various explosions in it, but I was always less interested in movies than my wife.  A rebel against the repressive mainstream society, I think it was.  Movies like that were allowed back then, although I daresay there wasn’t too much actual thinking done by the characters other than how to escape various situations.
Yes, yes, note that down in my file.
I remember we laughed, all of us, at various wonderfully funny and nonsensical things Toby said.  The news wasn’t on.  There was rioting in some of the streets, I knew from the broadcast on the way home, but inside the home security field, we felt safe.  Electric lights were still warm colors sometimes back then, not the cold white everything is now.  The heat was on, as high as we could afford it, and we were all wearing gloves and scarves.
Tell me this, master MRE, why can’t we have that back?  My time aboard the Solidarity was hellish, true be told, and this is worse.  If you want, I can tell you more stories about the Disruptor.  That’ll give you the evidence you want, won’t it?  You’ll be able to cite in the Unity Courts and in your Information reports.  Your associates and myriad love-sharers will be much impressed, I’m sure, that you figured it out.  The protesters and the resisters will be disheartened, surely, and that’s what matters most, admit it.  But I’m not the Disruptor.  And you, personally, will have to live the rest of your very most equal life with the precious knowledge that you, most respected, were wrong.  And soon enough, I suspect, the Disruptor will do something else out in the world, that you won’t be able to deny, and you’ll have to admit you disposed of the wrong person.
Wait, you’re getting up?  You’re leaving?  How can you do this?  After all we’ve been through!  Will I ever see you again?  Oh my.  Best of luck writing your report for your more most equals!

3.54.98—23/r
Office of Information – Restricted Resident Division
Recommendation, based on Analysis and Summary of Restricted Resident and “Disruptor” Suspect William Rethhouse by Most Respected Equal Nolan Teague
           
            Having spoken with both the resident and his Resident Safety Monitor, it is my informed conclusion that said resident, William Rethhouse, is undeniably one and the same as the long-sought unstable, degenerate, seditious, and anti-social Disruptor, out-standing insurgent in armed and violent antagonistic and hostile opposition to Tranquility, Unanimity, and Love Unfettered, may they ceaselessly direct us.  As a precursory perusal over the preceding texts, trans-corded directly from standard equipment issue 4.5mh audio-nets, will confirm, we have numerous exceptional and indubitable reasons to surmise that the resident in question was intimately, thoroughly, and systematically involved with and implicated in deviant, aberrant, and violently insensitive and disruptive activity, in unprecedented defiance to the Unanimity of Tranquility, prior to and (auspiciously, for only a succinct interlude of time) shortly subsequent to the Glorious Liberation.
            Please make careful note of the following phrases from the text of the prisoner:  “recognition [the resident’s] of his [the Disruptor’s] validity”, “infirm liberty” (illegal word pairing), “he serves a proper end”, “dire equation”, “various explosions”, “repressive mainstream society”, “rioting”, “hellish”, “disheartened”.
            It is my unwavering estimation that if these phrases are run through a proper and well functioning Subconscious Analysis Streamliner that the results will be both steadfastly indicative of offense and unflinchingly unequivocal in their blatancy.    That is aside from the obvious and rampant sarcasm and extremely and repetitively insensitive disrespect employed in referring to all things correlated even in the most marginal manner to our essential precepts, these aberrant attitudes occurring consistently throughout the consultation.  The Commission of Resident Hosts and Caretakers has stated to me categorically, in a document which I can provide if necessary, that they are in full agreement with my prediction of these forthcoming results.
With the consideration of the safety of the Restricted Resident Facility, and the other Residents and their Caretakers therein, foremost in my consciousness, I recommend, with the most suitable and customarily natural sorrows at this regrettable necessity, and with the opinion of the Resident Health Overseer in unwavering agreement with my own, the immediate implementation of the following procedures (at the following levels):
-Retraction of Potentially Detrimental Memory  (thorough)
-Tranquility and Continuity Awareness Enhancement  (durable)
-Personality Optimization for Affirmative Societal Contribution  (comprehensive)
to be performed on the person of respected equal and current Restricted Resident William Rethhouse, individuation # k8i3*-/th6.
I am Tranquil, Unanimous, and Loving in my optimistic anticipation that this shall prove to be the lasting conclusion of all unconstructive and ingenuous actions on the part of the “Disruptor”, whose dubious designation I now feel free to put in quotations, and whose pacification I have no cause to doubt will constitute a definitive step of affirmative progress in furthering the complete restoration and preservation of the Unanimity of Tranquility.
Most Respected Equal  Nolan Teague  , Office of Information, RRD
           

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