Devolution

Dr. Daniel Smisco checked his watch as he paced nervously in front of the El Amein fountain in Kings Cross. He felt trapped in a bubble of time and space as the world went about its business. A dirty vagrant in a torn and grimy suit took up a comfortable position on the vacant park bench in front of the fountain after brushing away a few specks of dirt with a sheet of newspaper. Paying no attention to Daniel, the ragged man stretched himself along the length of the bench and folded his arms across his chest.

A police ATV cruised slowly along Victoria St., the officer behind the wheel turned his head from side to side robotically, examining every person and everything on the streetscape. Noticing the bum he looked straight through Daniel as he pulled up to a stop and exited his vehicle.

‘Good afternoon, sir.’

‘Good afternoon officer,’ replied Daniel smiling self consciously and hoping the policeman could not tell.

Watching as the policeman approach the sleeping vagrant, Daniel wondered how much longer he could stand this waiting. Of course he was early but how could he not be when he was so wracked by anxiety; unable to sleep, unable to eat, unable to do anything except worry. Sharp pains attacked him randomly and his head ached as he wished desperately that he could get out of this arrangement. A business arrangement, the man had said, and very profitable too. No risk he had said. Daniel checked his watch again.

‘You’ll have to move sir,’ said the Adonite officer as he gently shook the bum’s shoulder to rouse him.

Daniel watched and hoped the man would respectfully do as he was asked and move on, so the policeman would move on and Daniel would be alone again back inside his bubble waiting to hand over the information to this man he wished he did not have to meet. It was bad enough thinking that everyone else may be watching him, let alone having a police officer present to witness what Daniel knew was a legally questionable transaction.

‘It’s a free country isn’t it?’ protested the vagrant as he sat up and scratched his scalp through thick matted hair.

‘Sir,’ began the officer patiently, ‘Sleeping in public space is prohibited.’

‘Ridiculous law.’ He gestured wildly with both dirty hands. ‘One of many stupid laws’

‘The law,’ replied the officer, ‘is to protect citizens and aliens from harm and to ensure orderliness and peace in society.’

Grudgingly, Daniel admired the young Adonite as he recited the police force mantra dutifully and enthusiastically. Strangely, he felt an odd sympathy for the bum as well, recognizing the reasonableness of his claim to simply sleep on a comfortable bench. After all he was no threat to anybody’s peace although even he himself might be forced to admit that he was disorderly. In any case, he appeared to be in the mood for some vigorous debate, and it would be an interesting distraction to see how the officer handled it.

‘Sir, there are many public shelters which offer comfortable beds and nutritious meals in a secure environment. I can take you to one just down the road here.’

‘Stop calling me sir, you are giving me the pips.’ He stood up to his full height which surprisingly left him looking down on the officer who stepped back a pace. ‘I am aware of the public shelters and I think they are a valuable resource for those who need them and who wish to take advantage of the service. Furthermore I commend the government for their provision at no cost.’

Drawing his CMP, the policeman stepped forward and spoke directly to the man, cutting him off as he prepared to continue his monologue. ‘Sir, my job is to enforce the law, not to engage in social debate. Please move on or I will force you to move.’

A tap on his shoulder withdrew Daniel from this interesting street scene, and as he turned his head he saw a man whom he recognized as the one, although they had never met.

In a long and awkward moment of silence Daniel’s heart rate climbed alarmingly causing him to take his biometer from his coat pocket and check his statistics.

‘Are you unwell, doctor?’

Daniel shook his head slowly, then replaced his biometer and pulled out a bottle of pills. Opening it quickly he took two small white pills and swallowed them. ‘No, I’ll be fine,’ he lied.

The man motioned with a strange jerky nod of his head toward the vagrant and the policeman, and asked, ‘How do you think nonconformists like that Deist will get on after the cataclysm?’

‘How do you know he is Deist?’

‘Look at him. Have you ever seen an Adonite with such little regard for his appearance?’

The two watched in silence as the vagrant walked away still complaining loudly to whoever might be interested about how his individual freedoms were being impinged upon, and how we now lived in a police state. The officer faced the two of them and after a pause which set Daniel’s heart’s racing again, nodded his head and bid them good day. He returned to his vehicle and continued his patrol.

“Now’ said the man, ‘to business.’

Daniel reached into the inside pocket of his coat, took out a mini disk and handed it to the man who nodded his thanks, before putting it carefully in his pocket.

‘Walk with me to that ABM,’ he said.

He waved his hand in front of the scanner and leaned forward to have his eyes scanned.

‘ID confirmed. Thank you,’ said the digitized voice.

‘Your turn,’ said the man.

Daniel repeated his actions and then waited as he punched in the code for private funds transfer. The procedure was completed in three minutes, the only pause being an opportunity for Daniel to confirm the correct amount had been deposited into his account.

Pleased as he was by the sight of a sudden swelling in his bank balance, Daniel still felt afraid and more than that, he felt guilty. He could only hope that over time the feeling would fade, and as the benefits of what he had done spread throughout society and saved millions of lives he could be proud, but only privately. The knowledge of what he had done, even if it turned out well must remain hidden, otherwise he would go to jail. He could still go to jail.

’Relax, doctor, said the man smiling for the first time. ‘You have made a valuable contribution to the future of humanity and have been well paid for it.’

Daniel could only nod as he wished the man would depart, and leave Daniel to his mental anguish. A drink was what he needed.

‘Are we done?’ asked Daniel.

‘Yes. Goodbye doctor.’

Daniel stood still for a while and watched the world outside his bubble. The same policeman approached and gave him a studied look causing Daniel to walk quickly towards him. As he passed he nodded at Daniel who nodded back. Then the tormented but very rich doctor crossed the street and entered The Strip Joint where he ordered a strong drink and watched naked women slide and twirl around slippery poles.

The bar was filled with the usual assortment of midday nobodies with the occasional businessmen’s lunch party. The Strip Joint! What an imaginative name thought Daniel as he read the sign above the bar.

‘Another one please, bartender.’

The flat faced barman with very pale skin looked at him dumbly. ‘Another what?’

‘Another whiskey,’ said Daniel holding up his glass in front of the barman’s beady eyes, and shaking it just enough to make the ice cubes tinkle.

Another man in a suit sat down beside Daniel and introduced himself.

‘Hello,’ said Daniel to the man eyeing him suspiciously.

‘Beer bar tender!’ he called. ‘You know that tool of a barman is the worst thing about this place.’

Daniel overcame the initial reluctance he felt about talking to the stranger and decided a little mindless conversation would not hurt him.

‘Yes,’ said Daniel, ‘But you came back so what’s the best thing?’

The man smiled unselfconsciously, and gestured to towards the currently empty stage. ‘The girls here are all real.’

‘Real?’ said Daniel.

The man gave a playful shove against his shoulder. ‘Some places, in fact most places are filled with cy-pros. Most men’s idea of a perfect woman. They can do anything and will do anything. That’s their programming, but it’s not the same as real flesh and blood, is it mate?’

Daniel nodded thoughtfully and sipped his drink. ‘I guess not.’

‘Real girls aren’t easy. There’s some sort of challenge. There are natural inhibitions to be overcome, and they have their limits, physically speaking. They get tired and they need to sleep and geez, they look pretty when they’re sleeping. Don’t you reckon?’

‘How do you know the girls here are real?’

The man smiled again. Gave Daniel the same gentle shove, maybe a little harder this time, then said, ‘I’ve seen a lot of girls, mate and I know. I’m telling you, I know. I’d pay top dollar for a real girl. Cy-pros are a dime a dozen.’

Stage lights dimmed and pre-recorded music wafted through hidden speakers. The man nudged Daniel again and he wondered how much longer he would be able to endure this bizarre, almost conspiratorial comradeship. ‘Watch this and you’ll see what I mean.’

Daniel had watched the previous group of dancers disinterestedly. His mind was on other, more important matters. The writhing bodies in various stages of undress might have normally aroused him but not today. At best he drew some pleasure from the beauty of their movements and their bodies, but he saw them as though they were paintings in an art gallery not as objects of lust. On other occasions he had wondered about their personalities and longed to ask if they liked what they did, and if not, then why they did it. He mused over the personality types and whether they matched the persona of the dance routine they performed. Was the cowgirl, wild, untamed and uncultured? Was the geisha girl just the opposite? Were they all just actors playing their parts in a pornographic play?

‘See what I mean? Look at the cowgirl. Just a bit too much flesh on her ass and one of her tits is bigger than the other one. She’s real. Beautiful.’

Daniel was feeling like just looking was not going to be enough unless he got really drunk and even then, he wasn’t sure, and the banal banter of his new friend wasn’t helping. There was no joy in his life anymore, no thrill, no excitement. No passion. He had turned into an automaton; ploughing mindlessly through the various routines of his life, and fulfilling his obligations. At home. At work. Merely going through the motions. Worst of it was he could only blame himself. The decision taken to sell his research to an unknown and potentially dangerous buyer was a mistake which was slowly suffocating him.

Death was all he could see. If he kept silent and took the money, his conscience would kill him gradually and torturously. If he went to the police and confessed he would also be killed by those to whom he had sold the information. They might torture him as well, physically. Yes, they would definitely torture him and they would enjoy it.

The man nudged him again. ‘What’s up mate? Aren’t you enjoying the show? The geisha girl! Check her out. Her legs are too short but what a wonderful shape.’

‘Don’t touch me again, okay.’

Mesmerized into deafness, he gave Daniel another gentle shove which slightly unbalanced him on his stool. This time Daniel hit back. Every now and then people surprise themselves with inexplicable and totally out of character behavior. This was one of those times for Daniel. Fortunately, the man was either too drunk or too stunned to fight back, and all he said, as he picked himself up off the floor where Daniel’s fist had landed him, was ‘I’ll be sitting somewhere else then, will I?’

Desolate inside, Daniel remained in The Strip Joint and attempted escape by inebriation and somehow a plan of redemption germinated in his troubled mind.