Wait, if these screens showed what was going on outside, but also showed the back of the Thief’s head, then chances were it also showed the interior of this building as well. It’d take some time to navigate through the confusing layout and figure out how everything fit together.
At least this way, he’d have some idea of what to expect.
The Complainer had no idea what to expect. He’d followed the Worker from one location to the next with a clear path obvious only to him, and now the Worker made his way towards his next destination by addressing a perfectly ordinary figure standing in the middle of the street, doing his utmost best to avoid any kind of confrontation.
“How are you these days?”
“Fine. Perfectly fine. Couldn’t be any better,” the man replied casually.
The Worker took a quick survey of the surrounding area, looking at the reflective surfaces, and motioned his audience of one to another area just slightly out of public view, who compellingly obliged. Then he asked the question again.
“How are you?”
Compared to before, the man started shaking uncontrollably and his features slumped with exasperation and relief. “I’m a Nervous Wreck. I’m constantly worried I’m going to be found out one of these days.”
“Just keep your nose clean, and everything will be fine.”
“That’s no small consolation! Just the other day, I saw someone who was fined just for walking too fast. How can it be possible to walk too fast?!”
“It’s possible if you go at a rapid enough pace in a low-speed zone - ”
“Rhetorical question! I wasn’t seriously seeking an answer!”
“There’s no need to be nervous,” the Worker said, gesturing towards the walls of tarnished gleaming walls. “The Amazing Greys see anything within their path, no matter the distance. They accumulate an astounding amount of data separate from you - from the smallest mote of dust to the refracted clouds in the sky. What you do on your own time is of no real consequence to them.”
“But surely, all that information has to be going somewhere where someone would see it?”
“Truth be told, while we see what they see, we can’t access what they’ve seen. We don’t have the clearance for it. And if anybody wanted to see what you’d done, they’d need specifics to narrow you down. As long as you stay out of their line of sight, you’re safe.”
“I’m pretty sure the Prognosiser suspects something!”
“I assure you, if he did, I’d let you know.” The Worker continued on. “Look, your name is still your name. Your Wife’s name is likewise the same. Same goes for your cute little Daughter. All that’s really different is that her age’s been slightly inflated and you’re living in a residence that’s not your own. Once she’s officially old enough, nobody’ll care. It’s all borderline legal.”
“I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. When can I go home? She wants to know why she can’t bring any of her friends over.”
“It’s not your fault she’s a month too young.”
“If only my wife could’ve held her inside a little longer!”
“That would’ve been unhealthy. Look, I didn’t come here to talk about your home life. I came to you because someone else needs my services, and I could use some help. But I haven’t come empty-handed.”
“Did you find the drugs?”
“I was unable to get the proper medication, but I found a substitute.”
“A book?”
“Don’t worry. I removed the dangerous bits.”
The Father regarded the Worker with trepidation, then nocked his head over, signalling permission to follow him, even though the Worker likely already knew where he lived. Once the conversation was over, the Complainer asked, “What was that all about?”
“Nothing that concerns you.”
“I’d like to know what I’m getting into.”
“If you must know, his family wanted to immigrate here, but could only do so if they met a specific set of limited qualifications. It was statistically impossible to meet those requirements, so I found a way to increase their chances. All for the sake of getting treatment for their Daughter’s condition.”
“How can you be so certain about the Prognosiser’s ignorance?”
“There are little habits that crop up when Agents survey their reports. A cough, a stroke of the page, a look of boredom. And none showed up on the Prognosiser assigned to their case.”
“You spied on him??”
“For as much as everyone is surveilled, they’re remarkably negligent, casually letting snippets of their hidden lives out in open display, because nobody reports on how much the populace picks their noses.”
“I haven’t! - not that I ever have…”
“I’m not judging. We’ve all been there.”
“There!” the Thief triumphantly cried, zooming in on a section of the map. He’d been scouring the contents of the screens, trying to make sense of the interior. If he’d had the foreknowledge, he would’ve noticed a certain Prognosiser poring over confidential information while wantonly picking his nose, but his profile was buried in a sea of images of people going through personal items while picking their noses. There was simply too much going on at once to pay attention to the important details.
There was one curious detail - on some of the interior screens, there were some glitchy images, warping the air as it moved throughout the facility, as if there was the presence of something that the real-time screens couldn’t capture properly.
Whatever it was, he’d avoid it en route to his destination.
Leaving the confines of his office, he traversed the confusing layout, taking care to avoid as much confrontation with other employees as possible. He didn’t want to get sidetracked, and made his way, probing every possible exit along the way. The alternate paths were blocked, but that was just testing the foundations. Every structure, no matter how formidible, had a weak point somewhere. It was just a matter of time until he found it. Having exhausted every possibility along the way, he finally reached the Archival Reserves.
This was where all the sights these Amazing Greys picked up was being stored. It took some time to figure out where the flow of data was going, but once he narrowed down the paths from other channels, this was the common focal point. Chances were that there were records of this morning that would show that he wasn’t the Worker, but a lowly Thief. If there was anything that could help him, it would be here. Then he thought about it, and realized he was thinking too small-time. There was a vast amount of information not just limited to his identity, but to the actions and deals of thousands of unsuspecting people out there just waiting to be blackmailed into submission.
Before he could even gain access, he was halted by the Desk Secretary. “Do you have permission?”
While anyone would’ve been intimidated by the Secretary’s looming presence, this was a minor obstacle. The Human element was always the best way to get anywhere. And the Thief could be very charming when he could be. He could talk a granny out of her clothes for his personal use, and make her think it was her idea.
“I’ll be in and out - just have to check something real quick.”
“Permission,” she repeated, blocking the way.
“I need to double-check the address. The client may have inputted the wrong number.”
“Permission.”
“I’m having a hard time finding the name for this form.”
She took a look at the piece of paper he had. “This form is blank.”
“You see the problem?”
“I still need the permission form filled out.”
“Those things are so cumbersome, and the boxes are too claustrophobic.”
“I still need to know which item you’re requesting for the records.”
“C’mon, can’t you let this slide?”
“That would be negligent of me. If I let you in, then everybody else will want to get in, and before you know it, all the data’s corrupted.”
For such a malleable path, this Secretary wasn’t making things any easier. But there were still multiple ways to get past that didn’t involve filling in pesky forms.
“This client of mine was fined for walking too fast.”
“How is that even possible?”
“He was striding ahead in a 10 speed zone. The Cop who issued him the fine reassured him, ‘Don’t look dejected. You’ll be bragging about this for the rest of your life’.”
The normally placid static features of the Secretary’s face gnarled into an unmistakable smirk.
“Aha! I knew there was a smile in there somewhere!”
“Oh, stop it!” she replied, not being serious in making him stop. This was his in. Regaling her with tales of woe accumulated via the osmosis of hearsay. It was just a matter of time until he won her over.
“Over here,” the Father motioned through the doorway, letting the Worker and Complainer through, and they entered the temporary lodgings. From the outside, it didn’t look like much, but from the inside… it didn’t look like much either.
No comments:
Post a Comment