New Earth City, 27 July Entry #5

Well, that was absurd. The other night it did this thing called "rain". I've now learned it's what happens when atmospheric conditions are in a particular way that you get water dropping from the sky. These "drops" occur when there are little tiny specs in the air--the moisture grabs on and they fall.

Did I get this from the smartBox? Sadly, not.

After Ande went to bed, I let my curiosity get the better of me. I went up stairs to the topfloor--perfectly within my rights as a tenant--my building has its refuse pickup up there, like a great many apartment buildings in most city stations in the ring. The thing is, when I got there I was told I couldn't step onto the topfloor.

"No refuse drop off today," a strange man said through the falling water.

"But I have my trash and tomorrow is a pickup day."

I held up the trash bag I had hastily filled before leaving my apartment.

"Give it to me," he said.

I thought quickly. "Well, I--I like to do these things myself."

He took hold of my bag but I didn't let go.

"Y'see, I'm a writer and I don't like people going through what I throw away."

"You write things on paper?"

"Uh, yes! Notes and things. Source's names and contact information. I know we're supposed to log them, but..." I smiled, hoping he would understand my attitude that journalists could still be allowed to protect their sources.

"All right, go ahead."

As I stepped out of the stairwell and from under the tiny ceiling that stopped the water from falling on me, I glanced around. There was a large crowd of people dressed like that first man, working on various equipment on the topfloor.

Their attire was bright blue and glossy. It was such a bright blue that it glowed in the dark. Also, it looked slippery because it was wet. I wondered what allowed them to not slip and fall. I tried to listen to what they said as I walked to the receptacles. It was hard to hear with all of the water.

"The reign has damaged this oral sensor," I heard one say.

"The vidi sensor is damaged, too," another said.

Obviously, I had no idea what they were talking about.

A king has control over some sort of speaking sensor?

Is "vidi" even a word?

I decided I would have to consult with my smartBox once I got back to my apartment.

I dropped my refuse bag in the receptacle and turned back toward the stairway, still trying to hear what people were saying. It was then when I saw that first strange man with his own smartBox to his ear.

"No, he's fine--just throwing away his refuse," he said pausing. "Yes, I know that."

I couldn't hear the other side of the conversation--the strange man must have a smartBox with privacy mode installed. This guy was high up in the hierarchy!

"I understand, sir. Will do," the strange man said, just before looking at me. It was a look I didn't like. "I'm going to have to arrest you."

"Excuse me?" I asked, my heart starting to pound.

"It's just a technicality," he said, waving two other blue people to move to my side.

"Can I tell my wife what's going on?"

He paused again, looking at me with a sympathetic frown. "I'm sorry, no. You can message her from HQ, though."

I took a big breath and went quietly.

The two blue people escorted me down to the groundfloor and then out the front of my building. A freevie the same color as the blue people's clothes was waiting for us. It was a multi-passenger transport--big enough for a family of twelve (like the vids on the smartBox tell us).

They were fairly gentle with me, pushing me firmly into the back and then strapping my legs and arms into one of the nine seats inside. Already inside, and sitting next to me was an attractive woman I recognized as someone else from my building. She was a few years younger than me.

"Were you arrested for taking out the trash, too?" I asked her.

"Please remain silent," one of the blue people told me as the woman nodded. I didn't know her name, but had often held the door for her as she entered and exited our building.

I formed a slight smile, hoping to keep her calm. My heart was still beating quickly, but not as bad as it had been. The blue people were much nicer than I would have expected regular police to be. They wear black, after all.

After several minutes of sitting in silence, the two blue people who had escorted me to the blue freevie opened the door again and gently pushed another man in. Moments later, he was strapped in like myself and my female companion.

"Remember, please remain silent or anything you say will be used against you," one of the blue people explained.

This new man wasn't a tenant in our building but I think he lived across the road. I was pretty sure I'd seen him on the street by the liquor place every so often.

Minutes later, three more people were escorted in and strapped down. This time it was two women and a man.

Perhaps as long as ten minutes later, three more men were added to the group.

Of all the people now in the blue freevie, some I recognized as neighbors and others I didn't recognize at all.

The vehicle had no windows and no line-of-sight to the front seats. However, I could tell we were moving--just not where. As a journalist, a true journalist, I knew it was my job to try and work out where we were going but I had no experience doing something like that from inside a closed freevie. On a rail car of some kind, perhaps--but a freevie?

It couldn't have been more than an hour later when we stopped, the door opened and we were unstrapped and allowed to exit the vehicle. Once outside, we found ourselves inside a large warehouse that smelled of refuse.

It was quite disgusting, actually. The floors were of some sort of stone (concrete, perhaps?) but were stained black with some sort of oily substance. Other blue people dressed in the same glossy clothes appeared and took our smartBoxes away from us. Damn, that guy told me I could message Ande from "HQ". Maybe I wasn't there yet?

We were then ushered into a rather large space--maybe around ten meters square--that was filled with other people. LOTS of people.

One approached me. "Were you on your roof, too?"

Before I could respond the entire group I had joined seemed to be chatting with others from my freevie. The chatter was so loud the blue people made an announcement over some sort of audio system (perhaps with oral sensors?).

"Please remain quiet. In most cases your imprisonment will be temporary. The more quiet you are, the more quickly this will go."

He spoke flawless Standard. Not a trace of a dialect. Very rare in New Earth City, from everything I had heard, both firsthand and not.

"You will all be processed in due time. Please remain calm and cooperative and your rights will be protected at all times. Thank you for your patience."

I decided to find a spot on the floor to sit down and do exactly as the voice had asked. The room was very crowded so the floor in a corner was the best place to feel a bit less, well, crowded.

Most of the others left me alone. I only had to shrug off one person who tried to engage me in conversation that one night. At that point I was starting to get worried that Ande would be home and worried about where I was. I couldn't see anything that I could do so I just sat there and eventually fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke to see blue people entering the room and passing out some sort of sustenance drink. When it was my turn to receive one, I took a sip. I guess it was probably Bug Power--it was pink, but I'm not good at identifying tastes.

As I sipped the liquid from the cup, I saw how dirty my hands had become. As I slept sitting up, I must have accidentally touched the floor with them. I rubbed them on my gray pants and only some of the black came off. I shrugged and stood up. I spotted a blue man just before he left the room. I ran over to him, nearly tripping over other people who were sitting or lying on the disgusting floor.

"Excuse me!" I said, reaching the man. "I was told I could message my wife."

"You'll be processed soon enough, citizen."

"Yes, but my wife worries a lot. She doesn't like my profession as it is and thinks I should--"

"What do you do?"

"I'm a journalist."

"Paid?"

"Not currently."

"Just sit down, you're name will be called shortly."

"My name? But sir, no one's even taken my name."

"Just sit, please. I'm only trying to do my job."

"I understand."

I bowed my head and backed away, almost tripping over another person.

I stopped and spun around, looking back at the space I had slept on. Next to it, I could see an older man with unkempt hair and clothes. I wondered if he had been there the whole night.

I sat back down and felt frustration start to build in me.

What was going on?

Why was I being held?

Had I witnessed something important or dangerous on that topfloor?

I decided it would be a waste of time to worry about it, so I took another nap.

I don't know how much longer it was before I woke up, but when I did the disheveled man next to me began to talk.

"Did you see the Apparatus?"

"Excuse me?" I eyed the man.

"The apparatus?"

"Yeah, with an uppercase 'a' at the front of it."

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't know what an "apparatus" is," I said, honestly.

"It's a kind of machine. It's an old word, I know--but it's appropriate. You know what 'appropriate' is, right?"

"Yes, I do, thank you."

"So, the Appar-at-us, you said?"

He spelled the word out for me. "A-P-P-A-R-A-T-U-S, got it?"

"Ah-para-tus?" I said, imagining the letters he'd just used in my mind's eye.

"APP-UH-RAT-US. Jeez, you call yourself a journalist?"

I suddenly noticed the wrinkles on the man's face. I wondered how old he was.

"Look, you saw it, I saw it, we all saw it last night--the machine--the Apparatus that is controlling things."

"Oh, OK, I understand now," I said, smiling.

"Do you?"

"Yes, I do." He was clearly one of those 'aware' types on the inFeed that enjoys finding supposed secret plots to control citizens and historical events.

"You know us conspiracy theorists, do you?" He asked.

"Yes, I'm a journalist, remember? A good journalist considers all angles on a story."

"So, you're one of us?"

"I didn't say that," I said. "I've done research and know your type."

"Well, good--so then you know some of us are full of it and others are spot-on, correct?"

"Yes, of course."

"So, how'd you like the rain last night?" He asked.

"I'm sorry? I didn't know we were ruled by a king suddenly."

"Not the 'reign' stupid, the RAIN. The water falling from the sky?"

"Is that what--"

"You don't even know what rain is?? My lord, kids these days! Do you even read books of old Earth?"

"Sir, if you're going to continue to insult me, I think I'd rather just return to my nap, thank you."

"Listen to me. I know how all this works. I've seen it before. I remember old Earth."

"You? You don't look old enough."

"Just trust me, kid--I've seen a mess of conspiracies play out over time and read about plenty more."

"A conspiracy?"

"Yeah, and I'm trying to fight it since I'm sure I'm right this time. Before I wasn't and it all got worse. Now I'm not waiting."

"What do you want from me?"

"I'm working the room, tryin' ta work out what the hell everyone's heard."

"That's a curious dialect of Standard--where did you grow up?"

"It's not 'Standard' I'm speakin' it's ENGLISH. E-N-G-L-I-S-H."

"Of course."

I smiled, humoring him.

"So, what did you see or her up there, anything?"

"Well, just those strange blue people in wet suits repairing the topfloor equipment."

"Did you hear anything? I need you to think hard."

Think hard? This man was speaking a dialect I couldn't place at all.

"Come on! You must have heard something."

I told him what I had recalled.

"There you go again, it's not the 'reign' of some king, it was the rain from the sky--it didn't damage an 'oral' sensor, but an 'aural' sensor! A sensor that picks up audio!"

He spelled 'aural' for me.

"Anything else you hear?"

I thought for a long moment and then spoke. "Oh yes, something about a vidi? I assume that's a word I'm misunderstanding?"

"Vidi?" The old man put his hand to his face and brought his fingers through his tangled beard. "No, can't say that I understand what that word means, either."

"Van Bush," a blue woman said, standing just inside the door. The old man next to me looked toward her. "Looks like I'm the first catch of the day."

I didn't recognize his reference, but as he stood, he looked back down at me. "If I don't come back, don't give up on this story. 'Vidi' huh? That's a puzzler. Oh and try not to touch the floor with your bare skin--it's poisoned."

I glanced down at the dirty surface beneath me.

"VAN BUSH?" the blue woman called out again.

"Yeah, that's me! I'm comin'!"

I looked up and saw that he was already in front of her.

She escorted him through the door and he didn't look back at me.

For the rest of that day, I sat there in almost total silence. I conversed with only the blue people who brought our sustenance drinks. I thought about speaking to one of the other citizens there, but I didn't.

That night I slept on the floor again, doing best to not touch the floor with my bare skin--the whole time wondering how much of what the old man--of what Van Bush--had told me.

In the morning, I woke and about an hour after they served us our drinks, they called my name.

The escorted me to a brightly lit room that was about five meters square. A blue man sat at a table in the middle of the room. On the opposite side of the table there was a table. The blue woman who had escorted me to the room motioned for me to sit. I did and the man began to ask me questions.

"What were you doing on the roof?"

"Taking out my trash."

"At 21:30 at night? Why weren't you watching your entertainment inFeed?"

"Well, power was out to the tree outside, so we couldn't connect."

"I see."

There was a long pause as he stared at some sort of data on his own smartBox. Finally, he spoke again. "So, you took out your trash, instead?"

"Yes."

"And did you?"

"Of course."

"What did you see up there?"

"Up where?"

"On the topfloor."

"Just a few people dressed like you working hard to get energy back to our building."

"Anything else?"

"No."

"You're a journalist, are you sure you didn't observe anything else?"

"No, I mean--yes, I'm sure."

"All right, thank you Mr. Conant, may I call you Jim?"

"Uh, well, call me what ever you want just so long as I can message my wife and tell her I'm OK."

"We already have, Mr. Conant."

"Oh... thank you. Did she sound worried?"

"Yes, so much so that we're going to release you now."

"Oh," I said, startled.

"This was just a formality, you understand, Mr. Conant. The law is the law."

I heard the door slide open behind me and the blue man stood up. I did, too.

I smiled and nodded. "Thank you, offi--" I hesitated and then continued, "Sir?"

He smiled warmly back at me and held his hand out toward the door."

"Have a good day, Mr. Conant."

I thanked him and left.

That was just a few hours ago. I took the monorail home. They gave me my smartBox back, but it had run out of energy so I had to wait until it could recharge before I could write this entry.

So, at this point, all I want to know is what is a "vidi" and why did so many of us get detained because we were on the topfloors of our buildings?

-Jim