The rain was seeping through his clothes again. He should have worn some slick-aways, but he was in a rush to get to work when he left this morning. The chill of the Portland dawn was starting to affect his concentration; however, he was about to arrive at The United World Headquarters. Living close to his office was a dream. After years of tele-transporting, Randal felt positive about being able to stroll through the streets. Even on a day like today, and many days were like this, when the cold of the rain made the the chill of the transport tubes almost radiate heat in his memory, Randal was happy.
As he turned the last corner onto Ramsay Way, he saw the magnificent structure before him. A tower of steel and glass, so prohibitive in its cost that, even on a planet as wealthy as Earth, only the likes of the World Government or the massive corporations could afford such opulence. As he made his way towards the gates, a shiver ran through Randal, and he relished the fact that he would soon be free of the cloying wetness permeating this morning. At that moment, his mind was whisked away from its pre-hypothermic state, and Randal thought about his good fortune to be working here at the headquarters. The power of the World Government assured the citizens of Portland perpetual wealth, and their skyline had changed drastically (for the better) since the city was chosen to cradle the leaders of humanity.
Approaching the automatic doors, the security system cleared him for entrance, and Randal moved quickly through the gates protected by peace promotion guards. Now that he was in the building, Randal’s mind turned to the day’s tasks. He was sure Diplomat Akasha would have a google’s worth of errands for him. More importantly, Diplomat Victor, from Centuria, and Vice President Abel, from Unacorp, would be arriving to discuss the troubles at the colony. A shiver ran through Randal again, as if he was still stuck in the frigid rain, but he was inside the temperature controlled environments of world headquarters. Dismissing the feeling casually, Randal hoped Victor and Abel would come to some sort of conclusion quickly, as he had numerous items on Akasha’s duty list to complete.
Filing into the elevator, Randal’s mind lost his train of thought for some reason unknown to him. He was slightly aware of the issue, and he wondered if perhaps he should have his concentration levels examined by the site’s multi-doc before he ran into any trouble performing his role as Chief Administrative Clerk. But in the moments it took him to consider the issue, the elevator arrived at the 36th floor, and Randal stepped out into the hallway; his mind was back on track. First, he would need to book the meeting space for today’s negotiations. Then he would have to ensure proper provisions. Eating was a hard thing to arrange with the Earth being so plentiful. There was too much choice, and the peoples of the world were entirely cosmopolitan, so he could hardly ever lean on picky eating habits to dictate menus.
Of course, Abel would expect nothing short of supreme. Working for Unacorp, possibly one of the most powerful corporations in the known universe, Abel was certainly accustomed to dining on the highest quality ingredients, and he would expect them to be prepared by the best in the city. Victor, on the other hand, would most likely dine on such fare intermittently. Of course, some off world colonies were prosperous, and Centuria was one of them, but none of them compared to Earth, which grew exceedingly wealthy from the commerce taxes it enjoyed levying on the colonies. In stark contrast to Abel, Akasha would eat whatever Randal arranged for meals. She was dedicated to her job and would often skip dining. Randal occasionally considered reporting that to the Wellness Officer, but Akasha was kind and elicited feelings of goodwill from Randal, so he let that matter slide.
Being well was of the utmost concern for the World Government. Machines could perform any task a human could reliably undertake, but the people of Earth had decided that certain tasks were fit for human performance, so they continued to do them. Mainly politics and art were today’s chief employers, but from time to time someone would develop an interest in something more obscure like medicine, and they would be allowed to pursue those dreams. In this world where machines could perform almost any task, being healthy was necessary because people were unlikely to cooperate with distracted individuals who could not keep their bodies in good shape. The implications for job performance were too severe, and people took great pride in their worth to society.
As he walked towards his office, Randal thought again about how fortunate he was to live on Earth. He qualified for the passivity exam at age four and was designated as an advanced stream student. Not only was he a 95 on the Abrams docility scale, Randal was also very intelligent. After his education, he passed the public service exam and was given training as a diplomat. He moved quickly through the ranks of the diplomatic core and was now Chief Assistant to one of the most important diplomats in the near worlds. Randal felt very confident that his position on Earth was earned. Most people born here did not succeed at the passivity exam. After their failure, they were shipped out to off world colonies where they would be of use to humanity. This left only those who could effectively cooperate on Earth.
Assured of his security, Randal walked calmly into his office. The lights came on as he entered, and Randal placed his palm on a pale blue wall sensor triggering the initiation of his holo-desk. His routine was almost mechanical. As his monitors lit up, Randal took the small clear rectangular news reader that lay waiting for him. While his office system came to life, Randal would peruse the daily news to see if there were any particularly notable events that might affect his work. A cringe forced wrinkles upon his brow, as Randal glanced at the top headline plastered in large block letters upon the now opaque news reader: ‘Centuria dissidents continue to wreak havoc upon Unacorp holdings.’ This was going to be a long day. Akasha had only recently managed to get Diplomat Victor here on Earth to discuss these matters with Vice President Abel, and it sounded like the residents of Centuria were continuing in their lawless pursuit of destruction and violence.
Randal could never understand why off-worlders were so violent. A twinge of anger, directed at the Centurians, stirred in his heart, but it was soon stifled by the World Government’s generations of careful emotional selection. Randal was not even aware that he was experiencing anger. For him, his thought process was interrupted for a stretch of time barely perceptible to his conscious mind. So, with hardly a pause, Randal began to think. ‘Why would a group of citizens want to disrupt the efficient operations of a corporation such as Unacorp? Certainly, they were well rewarded for their work. Randal had seen the ledgers in preparation for this meeting, and Centurians were paid highly for their efforts.’ Confident in the systems of government, Randal felt assured that the passivity screening administered to residents of Earth was extremely prudent. What a horrid place the off-world colonies must be. To be surrounded by brutes who have no gratitude for the plenty provided by a peaceful near world council would be entirely uncomfortable.
After reading the article detailing the damage caused by the Centurians and their thoroughly unreasonable attitude towards compromise with Unacorp, Randal set aside the news reader and began to prepare for the day. He would have to ensure a relaxed meeting space for the negotiations. With tensions taut on Centuria, Akasha would want both sides to enter into the proceedings in a healthy environment.
First order of business then would be securing the Green Room. Randal was already looking forward to the meeting with fondness. The Green Room was full of lush plant life and soothing white noise. Having started his communication system, Randal sat down in his com-chair and began to give instructions. He moved quickly through the room reservation system, and, with delight, booked the Green Room for the entire day. With his mind satisfied on that front, he then thought about arranging for food. Sushi came to mind almost immediately, so he ensured they would have that for lunch. For dinner, Randal consulted the files on his guests. There were no food specifications that he could see. Abel’s ability to digest anything was not surprising. Earthlings had almost no dietary restrictions. Randal had seen historic video captures of ancient media that spoke of unusual food habits on Earth, but he knew those days were long since passed because the World Government’s child rearing guidelines ensured a populace that could eat whatever it desired. Victor, on the other hand, was a surprise. Most off-worlders had some dietary restrictions. The harsh realities of the off-world colonies often resulted in strain upon the body that manifested as incompatibility with basic food stuffs. Victor’s restrictions were empty though. Curiosity peaked in Randal, and he began to day dream about the meeting in the Green Room.
The peaceful room, green beyond the measure of any outdoor park, was lit via vast skylights keeping the natural sunshine within the room as long as possible, and Akasha, Abel, Victor, and Randal were seated around the large oak dining table. Succulent steaks, creamy mashed potatoes, almond encrusted green beans, and fine wine were placed before them. Just as his dream self was about to dine, Randal roused from the vision. Perfect! The meal was planned. Inspiration often found Randal in this manner, and he knew by now to follow his day dreams.
Trusting intuition was one of the first things taught to any pre-schooler lucky enough to remain on Earth. The early years of schooling were about identifying your inner voice and learning to trust its judgment. Due to the passivity of the population, there was rarely any need to discipline school children, so time was spent teaching them to pay attention to what they wanted. Randal knew the theories about this were based on psychology’s morphogenic field discipline, but he was never educated in that area, so he only knew the coffee table discussions on the matter. It had something to do with the values and desires of Earth’s inhabitants directly resulting in every individual knowing innately what they should do on a daily basis. Randal was feeling excited by his plans. He was fortunate to receive such training.
With the necessities taken care of, Randal began to review Akasha’s itinerary for the day. There was a lot to do and many files to prepare. Randal began by sorting through the required documents and loading them into scheduled reader services. Following that, he started to plan for the meeting’s particulars. Before long it was ten in the morning, and Randal needed to join Diplomat Akasha for the day’s work.
As the glass doors to Akasha’s office glided apart on a soft cushion of air, Randal entered the room. The diplomat looked up from her desk but did not smile. It was going to be a long day. “Have you read the feeds regarding the Centurian rebels and their dealings with the local constabulary?” inquired Akasha. “Yes sir,” replied Randal. “Tell me, Randal, in your opinion, how long should we continue to allow these degenerate Centurians their dispute?” “Sir, I am not sure I even understand their reasons. Why would they want to cause so much trouble for Unacorp? I have seen the ledgers, and everyone is well paid. There is enough food on the planet, and it has one of the best equipped entertainment industries in the near worlds. I am thankful that such ungrateful brutality is relegated to the colonies.”
Akasha nodded, and looked down at her desk for a moment, as her hand went brushing through her hair. “Have you arranged for our parties to meet us here?” “Yes, they should arrive by 11. I have booked the Green Room for the day.” “Excellent, I have a few more details to attend to. Ensure all the necessary equipment is in the room and arrange for comfortable seating. We may be working late tonight.”
Randal nodded and withdrew from the office. Late nights were not the norm at headquarters. Any aberration in schedule had to be cleared by the Wellness Clerk. Randal was not worried though. He would log the request for more hours on the way to make final arrangements for the Green Room. As he moved down the hall, Randal felt a tight pinch between his shoulder blades. However, he did not let that distract him. There was important work to be done.
An hour later Randal was sitting in the Green Room. Akasha was seated on one side of a triangular table with a myriad of devices arranged before her. Randal was sitting off to the right ready to take notes and offer assistance as needed. At precisely 11am, Vice President Abel walked into the room. Akasha rose from her seat, and Randal followed suit. “Good morning Vice President and welcome to our negotiation,” Akasha stated in a reverential tone. Vice President Abel was a tall man with sharp features. The grimace on his face was well accustomed to the hardness of his character. He looked over at Randal, but his expression did not change. His eyes were alert, but the slightly dissatisfied expression allowed no information to be gleaned from how he presented himself. After a brief pause, Abel returned his view to Akasha, “Thank you Diplomat Akasha. I look forward to explaining Unacorp’s position and finding a solution to everyone’s issues.” Akasha nodded and motioned for Abel to take his seat to her left.
Abel sat down and immediately pulled out a device Randal had never seen before. Randal was not overly surprised. Executives from the likes of Unacorp had access to technology that would never see public release. Abel stared into the screen intently, and a soft glow lit up his expression giving it a warmth that felt uncomfortable on such rigid features.
About five minutes later, the door to the room opened again and in walked a young man with an energy that demanded attention. Where Abel was stoic, this man, who must be Diplomat Victor, was vibrant and exciting. As he watched Victor enter the room, Randal felt an emotion similar to loneliness. Akasha rose from her seat and Abel followed her. ‘Interesting,’ thought Randal, it seemed Abel was going to allow Akasha to dictate the meeting’s structure. Some part of Randal expected a man of Abel’s stature to demand the meeting be conducted following his requirements. As Randal mused, Abel took a measure of Victor character, and Victor moved lightly towards the table. “Welcome Diplomat Victor,” said Akasha. Randal noted that the tone was rough. It seems that Victor’s energy was contagious, and Akasha’s greeting had been infected.
“Good morning Diplomat Akasha and Vice President Abel. I look forward to our discussion today,” spoke Victor. As he finished his greeting, the corners of his mouth twitched slightly. Randal knew a novice when he saw one, and Victor had just given away his discomfort. Although his youthful energy quickly resumed control of his features, the tension inside of him had been displayed for all to see.
Akasha smiled and opened her arms. Her hands pointed towards each visitor. “Vice President Abel. Diplomat Victor. Welcome to the Green Room. We hope the room allows us the necessary decorum needed to reach a conclusion this day.” Abel looked across at Victor and extended his hand, “Diplomat Victor, thank you for traveling to Earth to discuss our mutual needs. I hope we can put aside each other’s patriotism in favour of a resolution.”
Victor smiled and shook Abel’s hand, “Thank you Vice President. I know we are both interested in seeing a settlement today.”
“Please, let us all be seated, and we can begin to discuss the issues. I will start, ” stated Akasha.
All three parties took their seats, and Akasha held up a small reader. Randal initiated the room’s privacy screen and location logger to ensure the meeting would be uninterrupted, and that future generations could study it if needed. “Diplomat Victor, Vice President Abel: we begin today’s meeting with the understanding that a peaceful and orderly solution can be found regarding the dispute between Unacorp and the residents of Centuria,” Akasha paused to ensure the assent of the other two. Abel nodded and Victor smiled across at him. “The complaints, as specified by Unacorp, are destruction of corporate property, refusal to perform required work, and disregard for the sovereignty of corporate governance. Diplomat Victor, do you understand Unacorp’s position?” Victor paused; then he stared intently at Abel for half of a second. After a brief meeting of eyes, he turned to Akasha, and Randal thought he saw Victor’s mouth sneer and his nostrils flare, but the expression rested on his features for such a momentary interval that Randal was not sure it was ever really there.
“Diplomat Akasha, Centuria accepts Unacorp’s complaints but refuses to acknowledge their right to present them. We understand that they believe they have a claim to the planet. We do not agree with them in this matter, as such our forces have removed them from governing positions. We are guiding and are guarded by the population of Centuria,” Victor stated in a firm and unwavering voice.
The moment Victor paused to wait for Akasha’s response, Vice President Abel interjected, “Diplomat Akasha, Unacorp deeply regrets that it could not protect the population of Centuria from the misguided leadership of vindictive terrorists. As such…” Before Abel could continue his sentence, Victor interrupted, “WE are not terrorists. If anything, Unacorp has terrorized Centuria for decades by removing its wealth and forcing its citizens to relinquish their freedom in order to receive the basic necessities of life.” Abel’s grim features relaxed slightly, and he smiled a thin and disdainful grin across the table. “You see Diplomat Akasha, what we are dealing with here,” as he spoke, Abel nodded towards Victor in a brisk and forceful manner, “these Centurians have no regard for the stability Unacorp provides. What Diplomat Victor considers the necessities for life, any sane off-worlder would know are comforts provided at extreme expense to Unacorp.”
Victor’s features contained a small twitch, and he was about to speak once more when Akasha explained, “Diplomat Victor, here on Earth, we speak in turn. We will not get anywhere with these discussions if both sides are not allowed to be heard. Now, does Centuria acknowledge Unacorp’s complaints?”
“We do not!”
“Very well, I will continue. The Centuria Council holds that Unacorp has no valid claim to its territory, and as such all violent actions were taken to ensure the freedom of Centuria. Vice President Abel, do you acknowledge Centuria’s position?”
Randal watched closely as Abel spoke. He could feel a dark mood pass over the room. While he scanned the participants at the table, he could see the colour drain from both Akasha and Victor’s faces. If he had not been so intent on the others, he would have felt a similar paleness in his own being. “Diplomat Akasha, Unacorp has title to the lands of Centuria as granted 106 years ago in the off-world exploration of system 39. While we understand that the citizens of Centuria feel attached to their home, unless they can purchase our title for themselves, we cannot grant them the privileges they desire”
“PRIVILEGES!” shouted Victor his face regaining its vigour. “You uncaring corporate machine! People were starving themselves to provide for their children. Mass migrations were required to work the mines established by Unacorp. You know full well the population could never afford the title to Centuria. The Universal Governance Committee ensured that when it was granted.”
Letting Victor expend his energy, Abel sat relaxed and listened to his tirade. As Victor’s shouting moved into frustration, Randal sensed a faint glow emanating from Abel, it felt like he was smiling, but his mouth remained tightly closed. By the time Victor arrived at the end of his outburst, Abel was beaming with confidence.
When Randal noticed the exchange between Victor and Abel, some never before experienced emotion was discovered in his persona. The feeling made him uncomfortable, but he could not suppress it. He felt like striking Abel or Victor or both of them. Fear took over at that point. What was happening to him? He was aware of violence, everyone, in school, was shown videos of off-world revolts, so they could better appreciate the peace on Earth. But, he was certain that his being was above such petty and base emotions.
Currently, Victor and Abel were taking turns speaking and listening to Akasha. Randal knew he should be concentrating, so he could performing his duty efficiently, but he was unable to shake these new sensations. Why had he never felt like this before? This was not his first negotiation. Others had happened similar to this meeting. Why now? With the talking in the background, Randal’s mind drifted into a world full of challenges. In his distracted consciousness, Randal was walking down the street, and a woman was being robbed by a man. Not really knowing what such a situation looked like, Randal imagined the man pulling on the woman’s purse. A violent urge to protect vibrated through Randal’s dream self, and he confidently strove forward to rectify the situation.
Just as he was about to assault the robber, Akasha’s voice penetrated his absent-minded hero fantasy, “…Randal?” Akasha was waiting for him to respond. What was the question? Pausing to see if he could parse through his sense memory to discover what was said, Randal was shocked to find that he had no idea what was going on in the meeting. “My apologies Diplomat Akasha, what was the question?” Randal asked in a meek voice. Akasha’s brow tightened and her eyes seemed to peer into Randal’s making the pit in his stomach expand into his throat. Abel looked at Randal with his face devoid of any hint as to what he was thinking or feeling. It seemed like a layer of plastic was covering his visage preventing even the smallest of wrinkles from betraying his inner most self. Victor’s right eyebrow raised for a moment, and he leaned back in his chair. The corners of his mouth turned up, and his teeth became visible. Whatever this situation was for Randal, Victor obviously found it somewhat amusing.
“When can we expect lunch?” Akasha asked again. Randal’s thoughts quickly rearranged themselves, and he opened up his work timetable. “We should be eating by noon.” Randal looked at the time, it was a quarter passed noon. He felt a warm sensation creep up his chest and into his neck. The embarrassment was extreme, and it worked its magic by suppressing the resurgence of his long dormant violent feelings. His personality quickly reasserted itself, and he apologized for his lack of concentration.
A quick meal was ushered into the room, and the meeting’s participants spent little time enjoying it. Randal hoped that the fine dinner he had planned would not be given a similar lack of attention. A silence had fallen over the room while everyone was eating. It seemed the powerful energies that had animated Victor and calmed Abel were submerging back into the vast turmoil from where such things originate.
It fell to Akasha to re-initiate the conversation, “Gentlemen, we are currently in a predicament. Neither of you will acknowledge the other’s claim, and both of you are willing to resort to violence. The Universal Council cannot allow another Opulus fiasco. Diplomat Victor, you realize that should your cause continue in its course, the government must grant Unacorp a suppression order for Centuria?”
Victor’s mouth drew into itself, and his brow furrowed while he listened to Akasha. As she finished, his eyes opened wider and he spoke, “Diplomat Akasha, do not mistake my presence here as weakness…”
In parallel with Victor’s polemic against Unacorp and the Universal Council, Randal’s imagination clamoured at his concentration. ‘What is going on today? Something must be wrong with me. I will make an appointment with the…’ The thought disappeared, as Randal imagined himself on Centuria garbed in laz-armour and storming an encampment on top of a hill. His compatriots were falling to his left and right, but he was valiant and moved headstrong into the fray.
”…we will not stand by while universal forces collude…”
The corporate foot soldiers posed little trouble for Randal. He vaulted across their barricades and dealt with them in a vigorous and just manner.
”…Diplomat Victor, you cannot expect Unacorp to cede its rights to Centuria without any compensa…”
Randal was rushing down a hallway towards a bright red door. His heart was pounding. He could feel it in his ears. ‘What am I doing, I should be annotating this meeting for Akasha.’ Randal attempted to focus, but the feelings were too strong for his thoughts to continue, and his mind was drawn back into the fantasy. He rushed towards the door. It was locked with a keypad enshrined on the right hand side of the corridor waiting to grant him entrance. Randal knew what to do. He reached into his kit.
”…we must all work towards a…”
Success, Randal was through the door. Inside the room was Abel sitting on top of a grand throne. ‘You have shown great resilience to defeat my guards and gain entrance to this place,’ spoke the dream Abel in a manner that mimicked the diplomat’s calm demeanor. ‘What would you have me grant you for your troubles? Would you like to rule this place? You could be surrounded by a world’s worth of spoils and entertainment!’
”…Unacorp must respond with extreme force if Centuria offers us…”
Randal felt uneasy. His conscious mind knew he should be paying more attention, but this newly found self was both frightening and alluring. Where were these desires coming from? Surely he should see a psychiatrist? If he continued to have violent fantasies, there was a good chance that he would act out on them. Thereafter, he would find himself in a courtroom with a guilty verdict shipping him out to some backwards off-world colony, like Centuria, where he would be living this fantasy as his life. He understood that the reality would not match with his mind’s wanderings to any degree of semblance. ‘Would he really want a life like that? Everything he needed was here on Earth. He had a good position in the government and a life full of meaning.’ Sanity, having reasserted its grip upon Randal’s mind, focused him back towards the meeting.
Victor was on the verge of shouting across the table at Abel. His face was contorted with anger. However, Diplomat Akasha intervened. “We should all remember that we are here to ensure a peaceful resolution to the Centuria dispute.” Victor glanced across the table towards Abel, and a feral grin protruded upon the Centurian’s features. It was barely perceptible, but Randal saw it. A cold sensation rushed through Randal’s extremities, and his mind started to race. ‘What would happen if Victor lost control of himself? Would the peace promotion guards intervene in time? Would Victor injure him…’ the thoughts continued like this while the others remained talking—blissfully unaware of Victor’s soon to be psychotic state.
Fortunately for Randal, the guards were not necessary. Abel chose to acknowledge Centuria’s right to send a representative to the meeting, so Akasha was making progress. Victor was again sitting calmly. The Centurian blood had chosen to assent to the serenity of the Green Room. Randal was pleased. This was the correct spot for the meeting. For a moment, Randal felt warm around his heart, and his mind was clear with confidence. There was still hope for these discussions. Peace was ruling the day. Order had been restored. Whatever base character defects were present in Victor were being controlled. With a clarity founded on hundreds of years of breeding, Randal knew Centuria’s future would be determined here and now. While Randal’s mind dwelt upon the good fortune of Centuria, Abel’s eyes closed momentarily, and a shiver ran down Randal’s back. Randal looked around unconsciously, as some distant part of himself tried to identify the source of the feeling, but it left him as quickly as it had entered. The Green Room smoothed over the chilled feeling, and Randal spent the rest of the meeting knowing in his heart that peace was destined for Centuria.