New Earth City, 2 August Entry

So, things got back "normal" after I got home from being arrested. Of course, Ande was upset and concerned, but I was able to calm her down within an hour or so. I didn't blame her at all. Though, really, if the situation had been inverted, I think I'd be more likely to take a little longer to calm down.

"I'm just glad you're OK," she told me. "You hear stories of what happens."

I knew what she meant. I had heard the stories. The so-called "intelligenters" on the inFeeds try to tell us in their blogfeeds about horrible abuse by our leaders. As a journalist, I've shied away from pursuing such subject matter. It's not very marketable. Deep down, everyone loves a good conspiracy, but no one will admit it these days.

Now, I'm not saying what happened to me the other night was part of a conspiracy, but it was an interference with my rights. If they had said I committed a crime, that would be one thing.

"So, why did they arrest you?" my wife asked me during that first hour of being home.

"I don't know. All they said was that I'd been picked up on a technicality and that my arrest was a formality."

"Technicality, formality, I hate all those legal words."

"Ande, you should read more."

"I read plenty, Jim."

"You should read more, then."

"Well, I would, but you don't write more or else I'd have more to read!"

I smiled at my wife. "Well, I may have the basis for my first writing sample in NEC."

"The arrest?"

"Of course! I got swept up in some big police action or some such thing. Who knows how many other people were swept up in the same wave?"

"You think there were others? Aside from those in the room with you?"

"I have no reason to assume it was just us."

"So, you're going to pursue this?" Ande asked.

"I'm thinking about it," I said.

Ande was quiet. The look on her face told me that she was concerned about something.

"What?" I asked.

"Just be careful. I know how this kind of story effects you."

I rolled my eyes. "Ande, it's fine. I'm only going to go where the facts lead me--just like I always do."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"You sound as paranoid as me."

"But you always say you're not being paranoid."

I smiled again. "Don't let the neighbors hear you sounding aware, now."

She glance at the kitchen window which was closed, then back to me and smiled, embarrassed. I caressed her shoulder and smiled. "I probably won't even find anything. You know how most of these things go. You dig and you hit a steel wall and that's it."

"OK."

The steel wall is what I'd always gotten back in the West Quad. Of course, before I could really know the wall was steel, I'd lose funding or something else would come up that wouldn't make any sense in the over all story.

"You could just right something that people would want to read," Ande suggested to me in the hour after she calmed down.

"You know I can't write mainstream stuff--I can't write about station events, or community street fairs or...whatever."

"But would it be nice to get paid to do what you love?"

"I don't love writing that kind of thing. How many times am I going to have to tell you that?"

"I know, I know."

"Just let me sit on this for a bit."

Which is exactly what she did. She went off to her job and I sat at home, using my smartBox to research. The inFeeds had several tiny stories about the rain from the other night. I didn't even have to look up what that old man, Van Bush, had said to me because it was all discussed in the info blurbs that made all the inFeeds. Well, nothing about the conspiracy stuff, but the weather stuff.

Turns out, according to the mainfeed (and everyone who picked up the MF's story) that the rain came about because of slight miscalculation by an NEC engineer. It wasn't a technical fault at all. The engineer in question has been disciplined and it shouldn't rain again.

Good. Those topfloor explosions and energy losses were not good for anyone's productivity.

Of course, after reading the mainfeed news, I knew there was always more to the story--this was particularly true since I had been part of the story that wasn't being told.

So, I dug. I did a blog search first, and found close to three hundred city-area blogs that had all said something about being detained the night of the 23rd. Some were vague and light on details--just that they had been taken to a warehouse and that was it. While others had pictures of the rooms they had been held in. I saw a picture of the one I was in--I could even see myself. Well, my shoulder is visible in the picture, anyway.

The important thing is that this happened to more than just the people in the room with me.

The other thing was that this had happened to people in other stations, too--while I got just short of three-hundred local-area posts, I found many more from other stations. All of them about being arrested on the night of the 23rd. There were too many to go through right away, but I saw some from all four quads--even a couple from Angels. I didn't know the writers, though.

So, it wasn't just a local engineer who had made a mistake with his figures--the problem was wider than that if other people in other city-stations had been arrested, too.

There was a lot to read and I'm not entirely sure how to encapsulate it neatly.

Put simply, there was an event that got a lot of people out onto their topfloors in a number of cities in the Ring. It did rain in other stations, but not all of them. In some instances there were topfloor explosions with no cause at all. Anyone who happened to be taking out their refuse or (I assume) tried to investigate were swept up, but so far, I could find no one who was actually charged with anything.

I couldn't find any mention of the word "vidi" either. I did a separate search for it on my smartBox and couldn't find anything.

Once again, I'd run into a steel wall.

Where else could I look?

All I could do was keep reading people's posts. So much of it is duplicated information. I know there's valuable information out there someplace and I waste time when ever I read the same information again.

I've tried contacting few of them, but none have responded yet.

There's not much more for me to do until someone responds.

Still no word on my job. It's been weeks since I had my last interview. Not sure what's taking them so long. Need to do something to get money flowing again. If I'm going to get any funding for the rain/arrest story, I'll need to have something with a bit more meat than just "it rained and three-hundred people and I got arrested and released three days later."

More soon, hopefully.

-Jim

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