Symbiosis - 1

2541 New Calendar - Prima Centurai

There was a silence in the small room, broken only by the occasional shuffle of twelve people trying very hard not to look at each other. The walls ran with condensation unpleasantly, leaving the air stale and damp-seeming. The single illuminative panel in the ceiling flickered slightly. One man, a nervous-seeming forty year old with the pampered look of someone who had eaten well their whole life coughed loudly and abruptly, making several others jump.

He twisted his hands awkwardly, realising that with all eyes now on him he would have to be the first to talk.

“Er…” he offered, clearing his throat properly. “And this…information…you say it came from…?”

“The Dreamer, yes,” a tall, smooth sounding medtech responded calmly, his elongated hands folded neatly in his lap. He looked distinguished. “I scarcely need to impress upon you all the importance it therefore carries.”

A girl stirred beside him. “How exactly can we…’free’ a worker, anyway?” she asked quietly. She looked at a large, thick-set man opposite her. “Baroth? Do you have any idea?”

‘Baroth’ ran a massive hand through his shaggy hair wearily. “No,” he said. “No I don’t. Believe me, the process of actually – ha, ‘trapping’ them, I suppose – is thorough. Very thorough,” he added, looking around at them all. “Reversing the process has never even been attempted. It may not be possible.”

“And certainly cruel,” the nervous well-fed man muttered.

“Adan,” the girl snorted; but he ignored her and pressed on.

“Think about it. ‘The damaged one,’ Inge said, so in all likelihood she’s been demoted. So she’s probably got a major trauma in her life that right now she’s unaffected by. If we free her…” He trailed off, looking at the assembled people. None caught his eye.

“There’s more at stake than moralising about the ethics of this,” Baroth said eventually. There were general murmurs of assent.

“It may not be so bad a trauma anyway,” the girl said quietly. Her usually breezy air of confidence had been replaced by something suspiciously akin to shame. They all looked at her. “We don’t only demote cases of severe emotional damage. We demote almost all cases of any damage. It’s not something that’s well known outside of the Forum, but…well…” She smiled bitterly. “Out of sight, out of mind. No more angst. No more imperfection.”

“Calin, you didn’t mention this before…” Baroth began accusingly, folding his bear-like arms. She shrugged.

“You’ve still not told us exactly what you do in the demotion process,” Calin retorted. “We all have things we don’t want to share.”

“Okay.” Someone else leaned forward, a Fennorim Symbiote, and placed his webbed hands on the table. “Time we started sharing, then, and time we started focusing. We may not have time to do either soon. What exactly happens to these workers?”

Baroth sighed. “To all intents and purposes, we remove their capacity for emotion and identity. They can’t feel anger, injustice, grief, emotional pain or panic at all, and their ability to fear is severely limited. They can’t feel any extreme of happiness, but they do experience contentment and a limited amount of pride. All biological desires are either eliminated or catered for as necessary. All they want to do is work for their society. As long as they do, they are content.”

“Why leave fear?” the nervous man asked. “And pride? In any capacity?”

“Because without fear they wouldn’t understand the consequences of not working,” Inge the medtech broke in, his voice oily. “And the pride is so that they can be content and do the best job they can. A person can’t actually function without any emotions at all.”

“How is this process achieved?” the Fennorim interrupted. “Is it a chemical process?”

“Partly,” Baroth answered. “We use various substances in the workers’ feeds to inhibit the release of different chemicals and hormones by their brains. But we also use psychological conditioning when they’re first converted to help them shut down their own minds. It can seem a very attractive prospect to feel no pain. Most accept it willingly. And famously of course, we don’t allow them to dream either. Again, it’s a partly chemically controlled procedure, but most of the work is done by the Dreamer.”

“So it’s not quite as simple as taking them off the drugs, then,” Calin sighed.

“We may not even be able to,” Inge said quietly. “As Baroth pointed out earlier, this has never been done before. The chemicals used may be highly habit forming. Withdrawal can be very dangerous. Their effects may also be permanent in some way.”

There was an uncomfortable pause. “No,” Adan said. “It has to be possible.”

“Adan,” Inge sighed, “I’m just being realistic here.”

“No, Adan’s right,” Calin said. “The Dreamer told you to do this, Inge. It must be possible.”

There was another murmur around the assembled beings. It was an encouraging point.

“Yes,” Baroth said decisively. “You’re right. This will be hard, but it is possible.”

“How will we find her?” Calin asked. “There are what, six or seven hundred million workers here? Any ideas?”

“’She can think,’” Baroth said. “Those were the Dreamer’s words according to Inge. She also described her as damaged. So let’s assume that Adan is right, and she’s a Demotee. Calin, you and I need to look for any worker psychographs that suggested unusually high intelligence, analytical skill and emotional capacity. Level 9 or 10 intellects, female only. We’ll start with the last ten years and see what we can find. Inge, is there any way for you to get more out of the Dreamer?”

“It’s unlikely,” Inge said flatly. “She only has brief moments of anything approaching lucidity. I’ll be on the lookout, of course, and I could try suggesting likely names to her if you find any, but I wouldn’t bank on any more help from her.”

“Adan, we need you to keep covering our tracks as much as possible,” Baroth continued. “The last thing we need is for the Forum to learn of this. Everyone else, keep monitoring the political situation. If the Benoi truly stop attending the Symbiosis, we’re facing into a Pandora’s Box of trouble.”

“I meet with them next week,” the Fennorim interjected. “It’s possible I may have us an ally there.”

“Let’s hope so,” Calin muttered. “We’re all screwed without them.”

“What happens when we find her?” Adan asked. “Do we have a plan for that yet?”

“We’ll ease her off the narcotics first,” Inge answered calmly. “That’ll help to limit the possibility of withdrawal, and its effects. The psychological aspect I’ll have to leave entirely in your hands, Baroth. It’s outside my field of expertise.”

“We’ll leave her working while we do it,” Baroth said. “To take her out of the system we’ll need somewhere to keep her, and the less we draw attention to ourselves the better. Adan, you’ll have to assign one of us as her section supervisor so that when any changes start to occur we can remove her.”

He sighed heavily, and leaned back in his chair. It creaked beneath his massive frame. “Does anyone have anything else to add?”

“Just one thing for Groma,” Adan said, glancing at the Fennorim. “The Mincol supplies of vitruvium are already down to half, but that’s obviously classified. I thought you might need to know it as an ambassador though.”

The Symbiote dipped his scaled head. “Thank you.”

“Already half?” Calin asked, startled. “I thought they would be fine for at least two years yet?”

“That was our optimistic estimate,” Adan answered glumly. “This was the pessimistic one. It’s unfortunately also been the accurate one.”

“Alright,” Baroth said, standing awkwardly beneath the low ceiling. “Meeting adjourned. Let’s find ourselves a worker, children.”