Truth & Code: The Future is Black and White

The Dream

Block 7,902,549

Arman was drinking khakshir sharbat on a side street of Shariati, reflecting on the city’s beauty this time of year and his position in life. He was a young man who was already well respected in his circle and was tapped to lead the engineering team for the SO-Lands Energy Monitoring and Conservation department (EMC) just out of university.

The afternoon sun was almost too warm, but he was satisfied. The air was filled with the smoke of beef and lamb kebab with occasional wafts of saffron, garlic, and citrus.

If he allowed, his mind would quickly drift to running numbers. It could be anything. He would observe the cook behind the grill, count the number of kebabs he prepared over time, and then project sales volume and total sales for the day. He was never told, but he suspected it was because of this skill that he was recruited directly from university. He had a way with numbers and methodically analyzed anything he could.

The only other skill he was sure he had was his love of soccer and his mastery of it on the field. His professional career was decided long ago for him, but if he had a choice, he would have played soccer. If he’s not running numbers in his head, he replays the latest SO-Land soccer matches.

He was a disciplined competitor. He rarely needed to draw fouls, and those who tried with him would regret it. Because he always found a way to even the score - on or off the field.

Such was his life, soccer, or numbers - or both. He had little interest in any intimate relationships. Instead, his relationships revolved around soccer or work.

Ambition was not something he thought or cared about. He was proficient at his job, received the appropriate recognition, and rarely was corrected by the SO-Land or EMC AI that monitored his work. However, with the approval of the EMC AI, his superior, Darian, was recommending a move from lead engineer to director of enforcement of SO-Lands EMC. Next to the Chief of operations, the highest accountable position, the director of enforcement was the most critical role at EMC.

The step for Arman was not the issue; he knew he could excel at this role. But he had grown comfortable and competent in his current position. It gave him plenty of time to think about and play soccer. As a member of Tehran’s elite soccer club, he had full access to the premier stadium in the city with a locker. At least for a while, he might have to curtail the time he spent there to gear up for this new role.

He finished drinking his sharbat, put his glasses on, walked down the street to Shariati, and made a left towards the lead offices of EMC. He wasn’t ready to start work yet, so the glasses were not connected to the EMC network as he walked. They’d become somewhat of a status symbol for him; not much else was available to call him out, which was fine by him on the days he had off or just wanted to get lost in soccer.

As he walked to the office, he heard the familiar electric hum of AVs and the whirring of drones. The occasional dog bark would pierce the otherwise quiet streets.

The smell of the kebabs and saffron faded as he approached the EMC plaza. Entry was simple, with matched glasses and a retina scan—a brilliant lock and key system. Geo-location would often open the door without a touch depending on the surrounding environment and proximity of other people.

No quicker had he entered EMC plaza than Darian approached and asked if he had decided on this new position.

Arman was expecting this from Darian. He was a simple man. He had a way of making EMC AI suggestions sound like they were his own. It provided a sense of humanness to the EMC AI. Every organization within SO-Land needed a Darian. SO-Land AI made sure of that.

“Yes, Darian, I think it would be a great move and opportunity,” Arman said, “But you know I have to have my time for my favorite game...” “Soccer.” They both said together. It was well known to all at EMC that Arman’s favorite pastime was soccer. Had they not known, the EMC or SO-Lands AIs would have made it known to Darian before offering the job.

“OK, great! I will make sure the appropriate registrations and security protocols are established for you to begin. I think by tomorrow at 0500am, you can start.”

Arman knew that would be the case. Before SO-Land AI recommended him, it had already compiled and analyzed his social credit score and DM (digital money) score. No surprises; had there been one, Darian would have never made the offer.

SO-Land and EMC AI, in Arman’s case, compiled data instantaneously and continuously. There was little room for deviation. Poor behavior had been programmed out of SO-Land citizens long ago. Job placement and advancement were more about aptitude and skill than anything else. It was never about whom you knew or the connections you had. The early determinism of AI from the mid-twenty-first century had become such a powerful tool for compliance that everyone knew their place by this time in societal evolution.

Darian followed with, “Arman, take the rest of the day to play your favorite game. I’ll set everything up and see you here first thing in the morning.” All he had to do was communicate with AI to move forward, but AI knew that was also coming. The glasses were in continuous operation inside of EMC plaza. The last vestiges of any human hierarchy were maintained for identity purposes.

Humans always knew they were human. The AI always knew it was AI. There was never any crossing of those lines. For most within the SO-Lands, the arrangement was acceptable and rarely questioned.

Arman managed a small smile and said, “You’re the boss!” with an about-face, Arman marched out the door. This time, he decided to take the glasses off as he hailed an AV.

“AV, soccer complex. Fastest route possible!” Arman commanded as he entered the vehicle.

An afternoon on the field before he starts his new job tomorrow is the perfect way for him to end the day. The only calculation he thinks about now is the sliding scale between work and soccer. Will he have to readjust that equation, and by how much? Time will tell.

Arman walks into the locker room and walks to his locker. Everything he needed to play and to shower afterward was there. “Open locker.” The locker swings open.

Arman unbuttons his shirt and takes it off. Next, he pulls the tank top t-shirt over his head, unbuckles his pants, unzips them, and pulls them down. Next, he pulls his boxers off and reaches for his soccer shorts, shirt, knee socks, and shoes.

Arman’s upper body is well-built. He has six-pack abs and thighs of a soccer player. He spends extra time in the gym focusing on squats and lower body strength. He pulls his soccer shorts up and ensures his athletic cup fits comfortably before sitting down. He opens his shirt up from the bottom, orients it, and pulls it over his dark-skinned upper body. He then grabs his socks, pulls them up, and puts on his cleats. Before he heads out to the field, he ties his wavy black hair in a small bun with a black tie.

“Locker close.”

He heads out to the field after grabbing a water bottle and a towel.