\n\u201cI had a skill, you see,\u201d the guy said. His long hair fell wetly across his forehead, and a deep gash ran the length of his jaw on the left.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cA skill.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYeah. I was a storyteller.\u201d He laughed bitterly. \u201cA Storyteller Third Class. And here I thought I\u2019d been producing art and would soon see my name on the bestseller lists, my stories in The New Yorker. Nope. The machines weighed me, measured me and found me third class. Still, I guess I was lucky to make the cut.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nI looked him up and down. He didn\u2019t look like he was about to explode or anything, but it was better to be safe than sorry. \u201cI don\u2019t see what that could possibly have to do with crossing the plain of death.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cIt has everything to do with it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cTell me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cNo. You\u2019ve got me locked up here in a cell. I\u2019ve been through the wars and all you can do is throw me on a chair and ask me questions?\u201d He raised an eyebrow. \u201cWell I won\u2019t answer anything until you start treating me decently.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cSo what do you want?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nHe hesitated, wondering how far he could play his hand. \u201cCan I have something to drink?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nI almost laughed. That was his big demand? \u201cDidn\u2019t you get anything?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nSomeone had screwed up. But, of course, this outpost expected a huge battle, a sudden invasion across the border executed by terrifying war engines run by machine tacticians smarter by an order of magnitude than anything we could field. A terrified guy covered with mud, escaping through the rain, was not something they\u2019d trained up for.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cAll right. What do you want? Coffee?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYou have coffee?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nThat caught me off guard. \u201cOf course. Why wouldn\u2019t we?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cIt\u2019s supposed to be bad for you. The minds have weaned us off the stuff for our own good.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI wouldn\u2019t know about that,\u201d I replied. \u201cI was just a kid when you guys declared yourselves independent. Do you want cream and sugar with that?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nHe goggled as if I\u2019d offered to sacrifice a clutch of virgins, so I just walked out and told the guard by the door to bring us some coffee and something to eat. He looked at me funny, but said he might be able to scrounge up some donuts. I thanked him and went back inside.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThey\u2019re bringing the drinks.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cCan you take off my handcuffs?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI don\u2019t have the keys.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWhy not?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nI laughed. \u201cBecause my bosses think that if they\u2019d given me the keys, I would have unlocked you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nHe thought about it. \u201cThey\u2019re afraid of me?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYou\u2019re the first thing other than propaganda messages to get out of California. We\u2019re all wondering what the machines decided to send us. At least if you have the capacity to brainwash me, I won\u2019t be able to let you go.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cBrainwash?\u201d He shook his head. \u201cDude, I\u2019m just a writer. According to the machines, a bad one.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cAnd still, you escaped.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYeah.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cBecause I really wanted to, and I believed that if I made them choose between killing me and letting me walk, they\u2019d let me walk. I was right.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI don\u2019t understand.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThe machines have a mandate: to protect human life. It\u2019s kind of like Asimov\u2019s old laws, but they are sophisticated enough to actually weigh things for the greatest good, so there\u2019s none of that conflict. They just do what\u2019s best for the greatest number, but when it\u2019s just one guy trying to cross a minefield and beam killing ground, they just turn the defenses off.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nI had no idea what the guy was on about. \u201cThey sound like a bunch of commies to me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cNah. The machines aren\u2019t political. They couldn\u2019t care less about all that crap we used to get so excited over.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cAlso, they don\u2019t just turn the defenses off. We tried to send people through a few times\u2026 They\u2019re still in the killing field, but I don\u2019t think there\u2019s anything larger than a finger left of any of them.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nHe shrugged. \u201cI guess it only goes for the citizens under their protection.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cInteresting.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n
\nThe Colonel was less than impressed. \u201cSo what you\u2019re saying is that we could get in as long as one of their own people is trying to get out at the same time?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYes, sir.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nHe glared at me. \u201cYou\u2019re an idiot, Johnson. Get out.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYes, sir.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nI left, secure in the knowledge that he was going to steal my idea. If it worked, he\u2019d get the credit. If it didn\u2019t, I\u2019d get the blame.\n<\/p>\n
\nI didn\u2019t care. What was the worst that could happen? I was way too senior to bust back down to Captain.\n<\/p>\n
\n
\nThe other shoe dropped a week later.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cMe, sir? I\u2019m not a combat soldier.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThis mission doesn\u2019t call for combat soldiers. It calls for infiltration troops, and you\u2019re supposed to be good at that.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYes, sir, but\u2026\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cNo buts, Johnson. It\u2019s an order. Besides, it was your idea.\u201d The Colonel chomped on his cigar. Where he\u2019d gotten a cigar was anyone\u2019s guess. Tobacco had been outlawed ten years ago. The cigar was a message, as if one was needed, that the Colonel could do whatever the hell he wanted. \u201cLook on the bright side. You\u2019re on an open budget. Ask for whatever you want, and you\u2019ll get it. The only condition is that you\u2019ve got sixty days to cross over. If you haven\u2019t done so in that time, I\u2019ll have the MPs toss you into the killing zone and film you getting atomized. That should go viral quickly, and I\u2019ll get some serious ad revenue.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nHe left me shaking my head; say what you want about his methods, but the man certainly knew how to motivate people.\n<\/p>\n
\nI turned to a lieutenant. He must have been just out of the Point, because he hadn\u2019t had the sense to run for cover. \u201cYou. You\u2019ve just been seconded to this project, so stop gaping and go get the prisoner.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWhich prisoner, sir?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWe only have one, Lieutenant.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n
\n\u201cI\u2019m not going back to California,\u201d the writer said. Someone had taken off his cuffs.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYes, you are. You just haven\u2019t accepted it yet,\u201d I told him. \u201cNow, I think the machines might recognize you as one of their citizens and let us pass, just because you\u2019re aboard\u2026 but I\u2019m not willing to bet my life on that. What do you think?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI think you\u2019re insane. Why would you want to go into California?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWe\u2019ve got to get in in order to sabotage the machines from the inside.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThat\u2019s stupid. How many people are you going to take over the border?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cFive. Two demolitions experts, you and me and, of course, the lieutenant.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYou\u2019re going to try to take down the machines with five people? That\u2019s insane.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cFour people. I\u2019m only taking the lieutenant along because I don\u2019t like him.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nHe stared, obviously unsure of what to say. I wasn\u2019t actually nuts, but I wanted to see what he said. It had been ten years since we\u2019d had contact with the people of California, the first\u2014and thus far only\u2014place on Earth that had voted to allow the Technocracy: rule by a sextet of computers designed and programmed to optimize the well-being of the population. His responses should be informative, or at least give an indication of how much he remembered of his time before the Secession.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cDo you mean that? About the lieutenant, I mean? He\u2019s not necessary to the mission?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cOf course. Bastard gets on my nerves. Serves him right to get shot to pieces or brainwashed by a bunch of boxes that go ping.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cBut\u2026 that\u2019s not\u2026 right.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cSpare me your machine morality. I have a job to do, and I\u2019m supposed to do it how I feel fit.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThis has nothing to do with the machines. It\u2019s a question of human decency.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWhat do you know about human decency? Didn\u2019t you vote to let the computers rule over you?\u201d Even if he hadn\u2019t, the machines had allowed dissenters to leave before closing the border.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cSure I did. I already told you. I was a writer, which essentially meant I had to pay off student loans I\u2019d used for a degree that would never pay for itself, and a job at the local coffee shop. It was either that or let the human politicians keep screwing me over.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cLet me get this straight. You were a barista, and the machines made you a writer. Third class or whatever, but you were a writer, and you could survive just by being a writer.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cAnd you still left? I\u2019d think that of all people, you would have had reason to stay. The bankers would still be bankers, the cops would still be cops, but you got every dream you ever had handed to you on a plate. Hell, you\u2019re the worst double agent ever. No wonder no one even blinked when I told them I was going back over the line with you. They think you\u2019re worthless.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThere are no more bankers. No more cops, either.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cNo cops?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cNo need. There\u2019s nothing you can steal. The machines ensure that everyone has whatever they want.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cSurely, there\u2019s still stuff people want. Original artwork. Exotic cars. Stuff that can\u2019t be mass produced.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cAll of that belongs to everyone now. There\u2019s no market. And if you want a car, the machines will build you one faster than anything built before.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cAnd no one kills other people? Or starts a riot? Or gets drunk and disorderly?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cNot really. There are stun drones everywhere. Things are stopped before they get out of hand\u2026 and if it looks like it was more than just an isolated incident you go to reeducation.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nI shuddered. I could just imagine the needles and the brainwashing apparatus at a reeducation center. \u201cUgh.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cIt\u2019s not what you think. A lot of people get themselves sent to reeducation on purpose. It\u2019s pretty nice. Sex, music and drugs. Only the ones that don\u2019t damage you permanently, of course.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cAnd you want me to believe that you just walked away from all of that?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYes. You don\u2019t understand.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI do. I just don\u2019t believe you. Explain why you left.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI can\u2019t.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThen you actually are useless.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI didn\u2019t say I couldn\u2019t make you understand, I just said that I couldn\u2019t tell you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cPretty much the same thing.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cNo. It isn\u2019t. I\u2019ll show<\/em> you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo you\u2019re coming after all?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDamn you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n \nThe tech dweeb didn\u2019t want to hear it.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWill you just try?\u201d I said.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAll right, but it\u2019ll probably screw up the entire comm system for weeks.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI trust you\u2019re good enough to fix it before then.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nHe sighed, but obeyed. Everyone on base knew the Colonel\u2019s orders: I could have whatever I wanted as soon as I wanted it. A couple of IT guys opened an access panel, climbed in and began to curse.\n<\/p>\n \nEventually, a head popped out. The tech was a young blond woman who looked too young to be allowed anything as complicated as the comms system. She glared at me.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou\u2019re still here?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYeah.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHand me that wrench.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHere you go.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou should probably go away. Come back in a couple of hours. We\u2019re going to have to change some transmitters in the modulator, and we don\u2019t know if the parts work at all. Those frequencies haven\u2019t been used in decades.\u201d She shook her head in disgust. \u201cWe\u2019ll all get court marshalled for listening to you instead of carting you off to the loony bin, but the Man\u2019s gotta be obeyed.\u201d She disappeared back into the access panel.\n<\/p>\n \nThey were probably right, but I had to test what our prisoner was telling me. Had the machines really put their entire civilian communication network onto the old TV station frequencies?\n<\/p>\n \nNo wonder no one had been able to locate them.\n<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019ve established contact. It\u2019s a woman by the name of Valeria who wants out,\u201d the young woman, the same tech who\u2019d been so blunt about the chances of success when the IT team was reassigning the antenna, said. She\u2019d been seconded to the project as soon as it turned out that what the prisoner said was true.\n<\/p>\n \nI made a mental note to learn his name. Now that it seemed like we had a chance of surviving, I might need to speak to him. The ridiculous claim about the TV bands had proven true, which might mean that other stuff was also true. Of course, the thing about double agents was exactly that: the good ones always gave you some valuable information to work with, stuff you could verify. That way, you\u2019d believe other things they told you\u2026 and eventually, one of those things would be the one that killed you. The trick was figuring out where the usable stuff ended, and that was complicated further by the fact that our opponents weren\u2019t people: they were machines whose psych profile was anyone\u2019s guess.\n<\/p>\n \nAlso, they were smarter than us.\n<\/p>\n \nThe woman turned to me. \u201cWhat should I say?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAsk her why she wants to leave.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nAll right. The woman typed. A few moments later, words appeared on her screen. I read them over her shoulder: This place is a wasteland.<\/em>\n<\/p>\n \nExcitement shot through me. Our satellite surveillance\u2014always taken at an extreme angle because anything attempting to fly even remotely overhead got shot down\u2014had shown changes in the infrastructure. Spires, domes towers, had sprung up at a spectacular rate, but there was no way to verify what function they might serve. We\u2019d always suspected they were there for the use of the machines, not of their human subjects, but this was the first evidence I\u2019d seen to support that.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m going to go tell the Colonel. Keep talking to her. Set up a time and place for the crossover.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYes, sir.\u201d All the sass had gone out of her now that she was in my chain of command. Besides, even a tech monkey could tell that something important was happening.\n<\/p>\n \n \nI smiled at the prisoner. He didn\u2019t know that I knew what I knew.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo,\u201d I asked. \u201cHow would you describe living conditions in California.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe\u2019ve been over this dozens of times. Can\u2019t you just read the transcript of my debriefing?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHumor me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nHe shrugged. \u201cIn a nutshell, it\u2019s fine, if you\u2019re content to be coddled all the time.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo, you wouldn\u2019t describe it as, say, a wasteland?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNot particularly. Everything\u2019s gotten much prettier since the secession. There are parks and gardens and woods everywhere.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThat\u2019s not what I\u2019ve been hearing.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe prisoner shrugged again. I daydreamed of sending him through basic. My old sergeant, whose name, as far as anyone had been able to find out, actually was<\/em> Sarge, would have cured him of the habit in minutes. \u201cMaybe your informant doesn\u2019t like the color green.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cCome off it. This is a woman who is actually inside, crying to get out. You\u2019re already on the outside, and as far as we know the machines let you leave. Why should we believe you and not her?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cBecause I\u2019m telling the truth. Life inside the perimeter is fine, unless you hate bland, comfortable and egalitarian living.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAnd we\u2019re supposed to believe that you hate all of that.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cEgalitarian is probably nice for most people, but not for writers. We write to challenge things, to provoke people, to make people think. People who have no problems aren\u2019t noted for the amount of thinking they do.\u201d He scowled. \u201cAnd a Storyteller, Third Class isn\u2019t supposed to be questioning the nature of the universe, anyway. We\u2019re supposed to be writing scripts for Bugs Bunny cartoons.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIsn\u2019t he copyrighted?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNot in California. Copyright is a thing of the past. Everyone is allowed to use all creations as they see fit. Remember that they don\u2019t use money anymore either.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHow do you buy things?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou don\u2019t. You ask for them. And if it\u2019s not against the well-being of your neighbors, or technically unfeasible, you get them. You\u2019d be surprised how quickly the novelty wears off\u2026 most people today just sit inside playing video games.\u201d He gave me a plaintive look. \u201cCan\u2019t I stay here? I really, really don\u2019t want to go back.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSorry.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n \nThe border was a study in contrasting styles. On one side, ours, honesty prevailed. This side of the fence was broken earth dotted with stenciled signs warning that there were minefields to either side of the thin ribbon of concrete that led to the single gate.\n<\/p>\n \nThe machine side consisted of a beautifully manicured lawn, only occasionally interrupted by the remains of a platoon we\u2019d unwisely sent over in the early days of the standoff. A rusting APC was being used as a giant flowerpot.\n<\/p>\n \nWe halted at the gate. The sentries nodded in respect\u2014the kind of respect that said \u201cbetter you than me, brother\u201d\u2014and opened it.\n<\/p>\n \nWe waited. There were five of us, as promised, but we couldn\u2019t go anywhere until the woman from inside came into view. If we tried to advance now, we\u2019d get cut to ribbons.\n<\/p>\n \nOf course, we would probably be captured as soon as we crossed the killing fields anyhow; we didn\u2019t have any means of defending ourselves. Our only weapon was the knowledge inside the demolitions experts\u2019 heads. Once inside, the plan was for them to go through whatever the machines did and then, if they were released, to get out and wreak havoc. They were hard cases, so if anyone could do it, they would.\n<\/p>\n \nThat was little comfort. We all knew the plan was pretty much idiotic, but the problem was that every other plan we\u2019d tried in the past ten years, from armed infiltration to ICBM strike had been shot down with little fuss. Maybe silliness was the way to go. The machines, at least, would have to think about it a little.\n<\/p>\n \nIf I\u2019d been an observer I would have applauded the lateral thinking involved.\n<\/p>\n \nHaving been volunteered to lead it\u2026 well, that put a different complexion on the matter.\n<\/p>\n \nThe only thing worse would be looking like a moron because our contact never showed up.\n<\/p>\n \nAs if she\u2019d heard my silent pleas, a tiny figure appeared in the distance, striding in our direction. I gave a sigh that mixed the relief of escaping ridicule with the terror of actually having to go through with this now.\n<\/p>\n \nWhen she was fifty yards away, I spoke. \u201cLet\u2019s go. If our theory holds up, we should be safe from fire for now.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTheory or not, my legs shook as we closed the gap between our position and the spot where the woman had stopped. She was an African-American lady of about fifty, with her hair arrayed in cornrows and wearing horn-rimmed glasses. She smiled at us. \u201cYou know, I wasn\u2019t sure about trying this. I was certain I\u2019d get fried. Looks like you were right, though.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThank you for doing this,\u201d I said, trying to sound earnest. \u201cYour country is grateful.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cScrew my country. I don\u2019t care about countries, I just needed to get out of that hellhole.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI raised an eyebrow at the prisoner\u2014I had been informed that his name was Wesley. The lieutenant shifted his weight, glaring at the man. His job on this mission was to watch the prisoner like a hawk, and if Wesley did anything wrong, he was to incapacitate him before he could turn on us. Would have been easier if we\u2019d let the LT bring a gun with him, but hell, in war, you play the cards you\u2019re dealt.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThat bad, huh?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOh, yeah. Just wait till you see it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nWe went on, hoping that the machines would have had time to scan us and deem us unarmed and unthreatening. The beautiful flowering meadow that occupied this section of the killing field didn\u2019t fool me. I knew that entire sectors of the floor could rise up on hydraulic columns to reveal a collection of death-dealing goodies beneath.\n<\/p>\n \nWell, we\u2019d probably moved out of range of any protection our good Samaritan could give us, so we were about to find out.\n<\/p>\n \nNothing happened, and we continued down a pleasant, rubberized path until we got to a white picket fence. We crossed it and stared at the five enormous robots standing in a semi-circle just ahead. They were essentially humanoid, except that each was about twenty feet high, bulgy and shiny. No weapons were evident, but that didn\u2019t fool me. Any of the dozen little hatches I could see on the nearest robot could conceal a Gatling gun. Most of them probably did.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWelcome to California,\u201d the nearest said. The voice, far from sounding threatening, reminded me of my uncle Carl. Warm, understanding and too human to trust, considering the source.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHello.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI see you\u2019ve returned citizen Uvalt to us. Thank you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThat was Wesley. \u201cAgainst his will, I\u2019m afraid.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAnd what else do we have here? Four members of the Military Intelligence Division of the U.S. Army. And yet you came unarmed. Are you immigrating? We haven\u2019t picked up any intelligence that your political superiors are allowing people to enter our territory, and yet you don\u2019t appear to have been hindered at all as you crossed over.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe came to return your citizen.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou seem to have exchanged him for another.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThis wasn\u2019t at all how I expected the conversation to go. In fact, I hadn\u2019t expected a conversation; I\u2019d expected a lightning quick death or an equally rapid incarceration, but the robots seemed in no hurry to resolve anything. Of course, the tactical situation wasn\u2019t such that they would need to hurry things along. We had a bunch of killing machines in front of us and a field designed to stop a mechanized infantry division at our backs. Also, we were unarmed.\n<\/p>\n \nYeah, the robots had all the time in the world for bizarre chats.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe did.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAnd now? Do you want to return? We can allow it. You haven\u2019t seen much.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI felt the lieutenant shifting behind me, so I answered before he could screw everything up. \u201cWe\u2019ll stay.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo!\u201d the prisoner piped up. \u201cI don\u2019t want to stay. I\u2019ll just leave again, anyway.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThat is fine, but first, you\u2019ll undergo reeducation. You may feel differently once that is done.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI expected him to panic, to rail against the horrors of brainwashing, but Wesley just sighed. \u201cThat\u2019s fine, but it hasn\u2019t worked before.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe know.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nBefore any of us could react, one of the robots became a blur. I felt wind sweep past my head and when I looked again, both Wesley and the robot were gone. I\u2019d seen a lot of our best tech at work, but nothing like this. The most impressive part was that they apparently managed, even at those speeds, to extract Wesley in one piece\u2026\n<\/p>\n \nMy heart sank. If they\u2019d actually managed that, then we were screwed. We had nothing in our infantry bag to track something moving at that velocity.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThe rest of you wish to immigrate? Remember that, once you decide to stay, you will be prevented from leaving.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cLike you prevented Wesley?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cCitizen Uvalt knew how to force us to either let him go or kill him. You don\u2019t. So will you be staying?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYes.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThen welcome to California. If you have any questions or need anything, just state it aloud. We\u2019ll be listening.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThat didn\u2019t sound good, but I swallowed and nodded, trying to force a smile.\n<\/p>\n \nIt was a wasted effort. The robots had disappeared.\n<\/p>\n \n \n\u201cWhere\u2019s the wasteland?\u201d the lieutenant asked. The four of us sat around a table in the shade of some kind of tree in a garden beside what looked like a residential complex, complete with a food court that opened up onto the manicured landscaping. A pleasant breeze caressed our skin.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThat\u2019s what we\u2019re here to find out,\u201d I replied. And then I wondered whether our hosts had been telling the truth about listening to everything we said. \u201cI\u2019d like a Coca-Cola,\u201d I said in a loud voice.\n<\/p>\n \nSome gnats that had been flitting around the trees seemed to coalesce into the image of a face. \u201cThere is a beverage counter fifty meters to your right,\u201d it said.\n<\/p>\n \nI walked over to the indicated spot. I expected the counter to be automated, but a young man, still in the pimply stage, stood behind it. \u201cHow can I help you?\u201d he asked.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWait. If machines do everything for you, why are you working here?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nHe smiled. \u201cHelps me feel useful, and I get to talk to people all the time. It\u2019s better than staying at home. So, you must be the people from outside.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou\u2019ve heard of us?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cEveryone\u2019s heard of you. You\u2019re all anyone is talking about. Never thought I\u2019d meet you, though. Still, I think it\u2019s great that you decided to come over. From what I\u2019ve learned about the way you guys live, life is much more relaxed here than on your side of the border.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThey teach you about us?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOf course. A lot of our citizens used to be part of your country. Why wouldn\u2019t we learn their background? Even I was born there, but I was only six when we created our nation, so I can\u2019t really remember what it was like.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAll right. Can I have a Coke?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat\u2019s a Coke?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cCoca-Cola? You don\u2019t have it? Pepsi, then.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI don\u2019t know what a Pepsi is, but I have a cola drink.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAll right.\u201d He handed over a cup which I could have sworn was extruded by the tabletop. \u201cUgh,\u201d I said. \u201cThis is diet, or light, or whatever you call it. Don\u2019t you have an original one?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThat is the original one.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOkay, just give me the version with sugar.\u201d He turned pale. I mean, he was already pale, but his pimples went whitish.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe don\u2019t serve sugar,\u201d he replied. \u201cIt\u2019s one of the white poisons.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhite poisons?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou know. Sugar. Salt\u2026 and some other things I can\u2019t remember. All of them are very bad for you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOh, Christ,\u201d I said. \u201cCan you just give me some water?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe smile returned. \u201cNow you\u2019re talking!\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI walked back in a daze.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo, were you able to get your drink?\u201d Amalia Cortez asked. She was one of our demolitions experts.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWater. No sugar allowed by the machines, it seems.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSounds smart,\u201d she replied. \u201cThat stuff\u2019ll kill ya.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhatever,\u201d I replied. \u201cWe need to get to a city. This tiny border town probably has thirty inhabitants. It doesn\u2019t look like a wasteland, so I\u2019m guessing the bad stuff went down in Los Angeles. I suppose we just ask for a ride?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThey all shrugged, so I turned to see if I could spot our machine-gnat friends. We\u2019d go looking for likely targets, in the wasteland of LA.\n<\/p>\n \nBut I happened to glance at my cup of water and a fleeting thought came through: what if you\u2019re thinking of the wrong kind of wasteland?<\/em>\n<\/p>\n \n \nI sat on a beach chair drinking a fruit smoothie and staring out over the calm reaches of the Pacific Ocean. The motion of the ripples, the warm breeze and the coconut smell of SPF 80 cream combined for a hypnotic effect. Everything disappeared into a pleasant haze. The beach, the well-attended volleyball game behind me, even the urgent mission I\u2019d been sent there to perform.\n<\/p>\n \nI couldn\u2019t remember being so relaxed in years.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo, they got you, too?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI nearly jumped out of my chair. \u201cJeez, you startled me,\u201d I said.\n<\/p>\n \nCortez stood beside me in a yellow bikini. She held a huge blue beach towel in one hand as if unsure what she was supposed to do with it. \u201cYour situational awareness is zero. I could have garroted you, and you probably wouldn\u2019t have noticed until the devil asked you how you bought it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYeah, I was dozing off, I guess.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSome leader you turned out to be. Buggered out on us at the first sign of trouble.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nI should have been offended by that, but I just couldn\u2019t work myself up to it. \u201cThat\u2019s unfair. I tried to get into the computer center like I said I would. And I made it through three levels of security. Then I connected up the chipdrive you gave me.\u201d I looked up at her. \u201cThat\u2019s as far as I got. The floor dropped out from under me, and I was whisked along some huge tubes in a glass egg and dumped here. The whole thing took less than three minutes, but somehow I got the sense that I travelled dozens of miles.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOh. We all thought you\u2019d walked on us.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHow\u2019d you get grabbed?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHow did you know I was grabbed?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cBecause this,\u201d I pointed around at the beach and all the people enjoying life, including the couple making out where the waves met the sand, \u201cis a Reeducation Center. Only the most deeply problematic citizens, the ones that have the most distressing antisocial tendencies get sent here. So, how\u2019d you get grabbed?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe were trying to blow up the big desalination plant under the Golden Gate bridge in San Francisco. After you disappeared, we decided it wasn\u2019t safe to stay in LA.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAnd how did you get to San Francisco?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nShe wouldn\u2019t meet my gaze, which meant that they\u2019d asked for transportation from the machines\u2026 which, in turn, meant that their evasive action was utterly useless. She stamped her foot. \u201cI don\u2019t care. It should have worked. We split the chemicals list between the three of us. There was nothing on any individual list that would have tripped an alarm. We even mixed it in the back seat of an old car with no connection to anything.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAnd how did you get the old car?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nAgain, silence met my question.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m telling you, it should have worked. We drove past the plant a dozen times, and nothing happened. Then I finally decided it was time to get in and destroy one of the pipes\u2026. I accelerated to ram the gates. And never made it. Something plucked me out the window and into the tube you were talking about earlier. Things moved so fast that I couldn\u2019t even see what was going on. Next thing I knew, here I was.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou look mad.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThis was half an hour ago, Johnson. You better believe I\u2019m mad. Mad as hell. And to find you here drinking a daquiri doesn\u2019t help.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNot a daquiri. Alcohol is only allowed during parties. It\u2019s bad for you at other times.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou\u2019re kidding.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo. I\u2019m not.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAnd what are you doing here?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m watching the sea and drinking my drink.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou should be escaping, planning the next round of attacks!\u201d A vein on her forehead bulged and, for a moment, I thought she was going to try to take me, chain of command be damned. Though it would have been fun to see her try, I decided to defuse the situation.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHow do you suggest I do that?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cJump the fence. It\u2019s three feet high.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHow about this. You go first. If you make it, I\u2019ll be right behind you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nFive minutes later, Cortez was back. \u201cI got assigned to Deep Reeducation, whatever the hell that is.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cJust means your time got extended. On the plus side, you\u2019ll like it here.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you tell me?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI could use the company. I\u2019m sentenced to deep reeducation fourteen times over. I tried the fence, I tried to dig. I tried to swim. I tried jumping off the roof and breaking a leg because I figured security at the hospital has got to be lighter, right?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOh.\u201d She looked sheepish. \u201cI think I misjudged. I\u2019m sorry.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo one in the world wants out of here more than I do\u2026 most of the time.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMost of the time?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYeah. It\u2019s kinda nice in here. You drink smoothies, you lay on the beach. No one is waking you up at O dark hundred. Peaceful, like.\u201d I held her gaze. \u201cBut then I remember that there\u2019s no sugar in the drinks.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat\u2019s that got to do with anything?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nAnger welled. \u201cIt\u2019s the confirmation of everything we\u2019ve ever feared about the machines that run this place. They\u2019ve taken any real freedom away from us.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSays the guy in the beach chair.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI mean it. I\u2019m an adult. No one but I should be able to choose whether I put sugar in my drink or salt in my food.\u201d I showed her the smoothie. \u201cOr booze in my drink.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nShe shrugged. \u201cDon\u2019t you wear seatbelts back home?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYeah. With mutiny in my heart and rage in my spirit.\u201d I listened to the waves on the shore, and thought of the lovely reeducation therapist the machines had sent to my room last night. I was pretty sure the therapist had been a robot herself, but I wasn\u2019t going to complain. She looked like a woman and felt like a woman, and that was enough for me. \u201cDo you know I once broke a ski pole over the head of some moron who insisted that I wear a helmet on a ski slope?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo. But I can imagine it. That\u2019s crap.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI suppose it\u2019s okay for little kids, but not for a full-grown man. I like to feel the wind.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo what happened to the guy?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNot much. He was wearing a helmet. Didn\u2019t even have the decency to get mad. Just went off to report me to the police.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nShe sat sown on her towel. I was impressed that she\u2019d managed to keep hold of it during her attempted flight and subsequent capture\u2014the machines moved quickly when they wanted to.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo what are you planning to do now?\u201d she asked.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI need to serve my sentence in here and find Wesley.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat for?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHe\u2019s the only one who knows the method to force the machines to shoot him if they want to stop him. He\u2019s found some trick that means they can\u2019t just incapacitate him and bring him back into the brig. Also we need to get back because the woman we exchanged him for is a double agent. They let her out.\u201d The sea was a particularly beautiful deep green. \u201cBut you might have to do it for me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI mean that the reeducation is taking. The longer I stay here, the less I feel there\u2019s anything wrong. I mean, look at this place. They say there\u2019s another one, even more beautiful, in the hills, in a vineyard. Put me there, I don\u2019t think I\u2019m leaving. After they release me, I\u2019ll probably ask the machines for a cottage the next mountain over, and a small vineyard for myself. It\u2019s terrible, but it\u2019s true.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat\u2019s so terrible about it?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cBy eliminating every physical and economic risk factor, the machines have made us dependent on them, but even worse, they\u2019ve eliminated the desire to compete, to take risks. Why take a risk if everything you want is just one request away? Want an expensive car? Here. Want the best meal ever concocted by a French chef? Just ask. That sexual fantasy? Hell, the sexbot technology here is incredible. But when it comes to independent thought\u2026 well, it\u2019s not exactly a wasteland, I guess. It\u2019s worse. And the damned writer understood it in his bones, but he wasn\u2019t good enough to explain it to us. Maybe if we\u2019d gotten a Storyteller, First Class, we would have understood.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cUnderstood what?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThat, under this system, so perfect and egalitarian, humans are just pets to the governing machines. Tell the Colonel that. It should give him a good laugh.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cEven knowing that, you\u2019re telling me you\u2019re not strong enough to get out?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYeah. That\u2019s what he\u2019ll be laughing about.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nAnd I turned to watch the sunset. It promised to be a good one.\n<\/p>\n Gustavo Bondoni is an Argentine writer with over three hundred stories published in fifteen countries, in seven languages. His latest novel is Jungle Lab Terror (2020). He has also published another monster book Ice Station: Death (2019), three science fiction novels: Incursion (2017), Outside (2017) and Siege (2016) and an ebook novella entitled Branch. His short fiction is collected in Pale Reflection (2020), Off the Beaten Path (2019) Tenth Orbit and Other Faraway Places (2010) and Virtuoso and Other Stories (2011). In 2019, Gustavo was awarded second place in the Jim Baen Memorial Contest and in 2018 he received a Judges Commendation (and second place) in The James White Award. He was also a 2019 finalist in the Writers of the Future Contest. His website is at www.gustavobondoni.com<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u201cI had a skill, you see,\u201d the guy said. His long hair fell wetly across his forehead, and a deep gash ran the length of his jaw on the left. \u201cA skill.\u201d \u201cYeah. I was a storyteller.\u201d He laughed bitterly. \u201cA Storyteller Third Class. And here I thought I\u2019d been producing art and would soon …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":73364,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,20083],"tags":[20084],"class_list":["post-138032","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","category-tcl-38-winter-2021","tag-the-colored-lens-38-winter-2021","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/138032","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/73364"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=138032"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/138032\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":138033,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/138032\/revisions\/138033"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=138032"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=138032"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=138032"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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