Post-Corp

By TheGreekDollmaker

Thanks to Chatoyance for giving me permission to use her setting.

"Success is the important thing. Propaganda is not a matter for average minds, but rather a matter for practitioners. It is not supposed to be lovely or theoretically correct. I do not care if I give wonderful, aesthetically elegant speeches, or speak so that women cry. The point of a political speech is to persuade people of what we think right.”

-Joseph Goebbels.-

***

“Bullshit”

That one word escaped from my mouth as I sat there on the same bar that I had been coming to for about half a year. Half a year and it still smelled as bad as the first time I tasted the awful whisky and witnessed the horrendous architecture. Yet, I sat there contemplating, the spectacle that was unfolding before my eyes. This so called “trial” was buried knee deep in bullshit, the truth being kept beneath a sea of lies, lies told by her. It wasn’t as if she was telling the lies on her own merit. She was forced into deceit by the beast of the corporate entity that she had sold her life to. I once told her not to sell her life like a slave. Regardless of how much she was suffering, be patient. We needed to keep our memories fresh so we could remember the murder of our humanity.

  I told her of change and its necessity. She needed to change, become the beast, conquer that which wishes to conquer you. We need to change because there is one thing that is always trying to conquer us, and that is life. It doesn’t matter if life changes. Like the weather, we change with it, we get used to the change. This fifth season for mankind, the enslavement, torture, suppression, all will change once again. Our skin will get hardened, our reflexes will get quicker, we will reach the point where we conquer or get conquered.

I told her all of that, yet here I sit, watching this delusion, this mockery of a trial. The twisting of the truth, bought by the one person I once held closest to myself. The trial is being streamed through the bar’s 44 inch Nanoplasma TV. Actually I forgot, it isn’t actually streamed live. Its first filtered though the eyes of the ACCT, the Association Committee for Clean Television, just like everything on TV that has to do with anything touchy these days.

  This morning the news had come back about the disappearance of that energy bubble, the one that appeared one month ago and was shot “by mistake” causing this debacle. Of course most of this stuff was kept hidden, for the World Government to do whatever it wants and then let ACCT filter it out.

“I did it” she says.

“Bullshit.” there I go again.

That single word topping all other thoughts in my head. I can’t be this direct, not in public anyways. There are a lot of wolves that will keep this in mind, keep this as a weapon against me if opportunity arises. They aren’t really wolves through, they are vultures dressed as wolfs. I’ve seen their kind. They are nothing more than liars and con men, lazy bastards that feed on the remains of the savaged and the oppressed. I remember the last time this happened two years ago. I said something unpleasant about the local neighborhood drug company and it only took, what, under two hours ‘till Merc Police came back with a arrest warrant for “Suspicious behavior”. Thank goodness I had ties with that company’s CEO, otherwise I would have to go against thirteen high-profile company lawyers for “spreading false information”.

“Please, elaborate Miss Ovis. Tell us everything that happened before the launch.” one of the prosecutors requested.

Taking a look around from the bar stool, I saw some of them snickering or muttering something under their breaths.

They don’t buy this either.

  She did it?  “Bullshit” they probably think. Its all bullshit. Its rare that this kind of mentality still exists in the world. Ever since The Collapse, the was this majority of people that actually believe what they are told by the world government. They happily eat what gets thrown at them, they don’t question for themselves about the validity of anything, they have to get it from the Hypernet, or by the thousand other voices on TV. They can’t be bothered to form their own opinions, they just get their opinions from somebody else. That is the great tragedy of our times and the reason why I keep returning to this dump of a bar. Its actually filled with people that aren’t out to get you at every chance they can. People that can think for themselves, that can help themselves.

“I was stationed at one of the command center, we called it Torch Nest 1. Everything happened from there.”

Torch Nest 1, the place where it all happened? Only if you are a fool. Another small lie. Common tactic used by the  arms companies these days it seems. The guys at Velcro actually gave her the order to fire the Anti-Matter Ballistic Missile, and immediately dropped the blame on her. Of course she didn’t resist, she just let herself be guided around like a fool, a sheep. Knowledge like this is why I keep my mouth shut at all times. You wouldn’t think it but the prospect of death gathers an audience. Millions of people were watching this, all saying their same thing, their voices stacking up on each other. Nothing of value. Only the ruling classes were running this place, making sure that everything went according to plan, her funeral already in the making. Didn’t matter. You can’t bury the living dead.

  I keep my mouth shut this time. Even at this place, at this time, I still want to be cautious. The truth, nobody seeks it anymore. Instead they look else where for the “truths” of others. When she speaks nobody listens to the essence, that small part of her that may or may not hold the truth. They look at their beers and take another sip. Looking depressed as always. Yet there is that one part of their selves, their essence that speaks out to them, it guides them. They become master of deceit temporarily, and anything you say can and will be used against those that feed them lies. Its that small essence that can make them distinguish what is bullshit or not. Its always the tone, or a certain way people look or talk. They can understand for a short time if they are being fed shit. That’s why I have to be cautious. Having me of all people caught saying something dangerous, even one word, in the middle of a bar; Even if this place is better then all of the other bars I am still certain somebody is bound to hear something, and in this place chances are that they will know if there are more things playing at hand. Again, it’s always how people talk. Deception is the mother of all social engagements. Honesty is merely a weapon to be used against enemies when necessary.

The trial continues.

  “My superiors at Velcro Inc. were still trying to find a way, with the help of the world government, to breach the defenses of the barrier. It was right about that time they announced the use of experimental weapons to disrupt the barrier.”

So much stuff, so little time. I feel like I am walking blind here, wrapped around the light of a lamb which I cannot see. What is the purpose of all of this? Why did society collapse? Was it greed? No; Greed always existed. Was it the malice of men with power? Was it corruption? So much stuff, so little time. The barrier; Now there’s something to talk about. Interesting thing. It appeared in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean two months ago. At first the satellites saw a small dot growing ever so increasingly like a plant. Before long it expanded at its natural lush was revealed. Forests the size of which could feed business for years, untouched, waiting to be harvested. Acres of empty plains, perfect for factories and cities. The plant had become a tree. It was the tree that gave the oxygen we needed. That’s what we saw anyways. It was growing out of nowhere but did we care? No, this was our chance. We would go in there and cut down this tree. We would suck the living hell out of it. Another part of our expansions.

  There was just a tiny problem through. As the island expanded, so did a nigh-indestructible barrier, separating us for our thirst and hunger.

No problem, we thought. We will just blow it up.

  So we did. We tried anyways. We sent boats with machine guns and mining equipment to open it up, after that we sent in battleships, big and small, to blow it open. We tried using all kinds of bombs, outdated and new. Napalm, Sharpnal, ATDs, Ionized, all failed. We tried using different tactics. Nuclear options from space, digging underground, Shockmines, again, all futile.

  It was mocking us. Every step we took was getting us closer, but our grasp was always slipping further away with each step. But we got lucky. We used a new type of weapon, Antimatter bombs. It pried opened the barrier for a short while. So we did what we had to do. We produced the biggest Antimatter bomb we could and we chugged it towards the barrier. We thought this was the decisive blow. We had planned this in advance, written down all the algorithms, gotten the best companies backing the World Government, weighing in so we built just the perfect bomb for Neutralising the barrier. Nobody expected it to disappear. Nobody.

We had informed the news companies of our success. The smell of conquest was in the air, this was it. The ruling class dug up their old passports, waiting to fly in the new land of brimming business. People crowned around the cafes or sat watching their TVs in excitement. Nobody expected what happened. One moment we were celebrating the new found growth of our business. Then everything that we had fought and worked for was rendered useless, like we might as well have never tried. One moment we were full of hope, and in less then an hour after launch that illusion of hope was shuttered.

“It disappeared” the pilot said. “NO, I am not fucking kidding you here, the barrier it gone, all of it.” I remember hearing him say.

They couldn’t take it through. The people screamed and moaned. The lorries were filled with constrictions and wirefences, no space left unchecked. They flooded the hypernet with messages of hate and disappointment. For once, they wore our clothes and learned our language. For one single moment they were out for blood. So we did what we always did. We found somebody to transfer the blame to.

“Now, I had heard of the apparent success of the small Anti Matter bombs that were used. Since my company was at the forefront of Anti matter production and technologies, Torch Nest 1 was equipped with an Anti-matter Ballistics Missile.”

  She merely pressed the button. That’s all she did. Period. I know this. She got a phone call from the higher up and she just followed orders. She never expected to find herself here. And what could she do anyways? There was no hope. There was no escape. The only thing she could do was buckle up and prepare.

  I took a final sip from my whisky before pulling out my wallet to pay the barkeep. Taking a look around me, I see the usual stuff. A young lad drinking coffee with his best friend, watching the trial, a couple of old souls drinking themselves to death. Most of the loners, all tired. Just like me.

  The trial goes on.

“Yes, It was exactly for that reason. I launched the A.M.B.M. on October 28, 2045 in hopes of bringing down the barrier, enabling the world government to enter it. I had the best intentions in mind.”

  More lies. Best intentions; You never had any intentions. You never had any ambitions. You were a living dead, a walking corpse, a sheep. You had your chance and you blew it. You decided to follow orders when you could have been the one making them. I don’t know which makes me rage more. The lies or the waste that is her life. Knowing her potential, I say her.

  Lies, frauds, mockeries, the symbols of life and death. They have taken a form of their own. They have grown legs and they have grown hands, to terrorise and to annihilate. Such is the Post-Collapse society. A series of lies and delusions meant to help the wolfs of this world get better while the rest follow through. They don’t care about the truth. That is not their objective. Their objective is to convince as many people as possible that they are not the villains, that somehow their way is the right way. Most frightening is that they are winning.

“And were you alone in the Torch Nest?”

  I can hear the TV behind me, mounted on the wall, as I take foot to the exit. Its early in the morning, raining. Quite moody I must say. A grey mist enveloping the outside as cars pass spraying water all over the pavement. I feel tired as I open the exit to go outside.

“...Yes, I did it alone.”

  There it is, the smallest lie. I hear it as I just close the door, standing there on the outside like a fool. I feel tired.

  I am tired. I am tired of living beneath such mountains of lies. I am tired of listening to the same shit as always, a thousand voices, all speaking at the same time, nobody listening to what the other person is saying, neither doing anything about it. I am tired of playing this game.

  That was a small lie, but let a lie, any lie, go without scrutiny and its bound to go down in history as truth. She wasn’t alone. I was fucking there. I saw what happened one month I ago, I remember it second by second, action by action. We received the phone call and we launched the nukes. We were the first one to hear the pilot. We were the first ones to realize the downfall. She... she let me leave. She told me to get the hell out of there. I left the Nest and she took the blame. She lied her way, just so I wouldn’t have been caught in this mess. I don’t know what she did with the records files, neither did I care. I managed to contact my CEO and he got me out of the mess, an old favor that he owed me.

  I am tired. I don’t even care anymore. I am sick of playing, sick of believing, sick of trying to invent hope. It hurts my head more then the whiskey does. I don’t want to do this anymore. My mind has been filled with bullshit. How did it happen; How did we end up like this?

The streets lights tire me as I walk beneath them, they strain my eyes. I wish I had a garden, just like decades ago before the collapse. I wish I was a tree, just so I can escape this chocking. We have been built around windows. We have been built around doors and walls. We are all suffocating, as they steal our air and leave us with rot. They still have the gull to say other wise. “All will be well with our new product, everything will be well”. But obviously that cannot be the truth. I am still tired. My head hurts. My mind ending up a useless accessory by each passing day.

  I reach my old home, the one that I am forced to live in for the time being. Even being near the ruling class still has a lot of dangers and secrets into it. There are a lot of people that know of me. That know of what I do. While my CEO is taking care that those people don’t try to coax me into the World Government, I live here. My old home. A twenty-thousand dollar home, a little rough from the beating it has received from time. It holds well though, a two story building, post-modern look, yet still blends with the other buildings.

  I unlock the front door and take off my shoes. Only one pair of shoes. I never had another woman on the house, not since her. This loneliness is hurting and killing me, its presence tiring. If I could just throw up everything from my chest, out of my mind, to sleep without dreams, without worries. That would be just fine.

I lock the door and take off my clothes. Its still early in the morning and money’s enough to last me for the year. It was a big favor he owned me after all. I just headed off to my bed room and lied down to sleep. Not that drunk, but not that sober either.

  I once planted hope within my heart, hope that I never found, that I never let grow. I just kept waiting, not doing anything. I have since abandoned hope. Hope without action is meaningless. It is a means of self deception among those that refuse to see the nature of the world because of their ignorance. Do they not know any better? I feel dirty and ashamed even thinking I ever did such a thing.

  I sit there motionless, as I try to fall asleep. But I cannot stop thinking. The more I try to stop, the more I end up thinking. I am thinking. Why I am tired? What is missing from me, what kind of energy do I lack? I don’t miss the big moments, neither am I bothered by the big lies. The bigger they are the more easy it is for people to believe them, thus the easier for me to spot the bullshit. No, what bothers me are the small moments, the small lies. The human moments, those bother me. Those are sucking the life and energy out of me. The fruit which I gain my energy from, it is absent.

Absent is the presence of a loving hand.

Absent is the presence of a kind eye.

Absent is the presence of truth,

All is absent.

I cannot take this anymore.

I try to give a loving hand and I get stabbed.

I try to have a kind eye and I am blinded by filth.

I try to say the truth... and I find my self alone.

Everything must go. Everything must fall. I will find the switch of this modern world. I will go far and I will break many walls. But I will find the switch. And I will turn it off.

Its time people prepare them selves for a Post-Corporate world.

***

In memory of my great sister’s father’s second and a half cousin to the power of twenty four, McMoody Benel-Sahid-Ben-Salaam.

Author notes: Finally finished it. This is a one-shot and before you ask, yes there will be a sequel. But that will a multi-parter and will be set aside for now.

I had initial scepticism as to whether or not post this story on Fim Fiction, or any other Pony related sites. This after all has to do more of the setting of Chatoyance’s setting before the TCB takes place. So I decided to make two fan fictions based on this. This is the one-shot. There will be a bigger one that will be longer, better, more obnoxious and more insane.

I do not have a lot to say so here is a snippet for “Countdown to Post-Corp”