Bondage
Photo by Cristian Negraia on Unsplash
Ieota's eyes flicker open. He fumbles in the dark as he switches on his lamp. Pushing himself up in his bed, he notices water trickling from underneath his bathroom door. It traces between the floor tiles, methodically taking the easiest route, slowly encroaching upon his small, undersized feet. Ieota sits fascinated - he has never seen a river in real life before. Or a stream. Only in picture books when he was a child. Apparently they no longer exist. They are too dangerous to be allowed to run wild. And that reminds him.
From a small packet on his bedside, he pulls a tiny square sticker. He places it on his neck, and closes his eyes. Within moments, a light on the sticker begins to flash green, and Ieota’s visual field changes.
Transparent blue green numbers cycle rapidly either side of his periphery. Arrows dart toward objects, highlight their form, and perform calculations. These objects are then compared with other objects - the lamp with the bedside, his bed with the lamp, his desk by his window with the bedside. Before a second passes, a flurry of green ticks flash across his visual field - except for one area, right before him.Â
The water trickling from his bathroom is outlined in red. As the water slowly moves, so does the outline. Above it, a large red cross pulsates. Smaller red crosses - the relationships between the tricking water and other objects - begin to pulsate. Beside each of the crosses are percentiles - risk profiles, predictors of danger. The water itself is at 73%. The water and the lamp 77%. The highest is the water and bedside, at 84%.
Ieota’s heart rate used to rise in these situations. Red risk profiles - calculations over 70% - if not safely fixed within two hours, incur a severe fine. Extra calculations, unknown to the individual wearers of the SAFTEE PROXIMITEE, are made to establish the danger between the discovered risk profile, and other humans or animals in proximity - in this case, all the beings within his apartment building. Ieota used to try to imagine what danger a risk profile he created might be toward others. Yet he found the resulting rumination severely hampered his ability to fix his created risk profile fast enough, and overwhelmed him with guilt - to the point of vomiting from unbearable nausea.
Ieota wipes his eyes and gets to work. He stands, tip-toes around the water, and opens the bathroom door. It’s exactly what he thought: The bathroom sink is overflowing again. New calculations from the SAFTEE PROXIMITEE flash across his visual field - mostly all red crosses. The sink is at 91%. If he doesn’t fix these fast enough his last month's EMPATH package - like the month before that - will vanish from his account.
Ieota wants to curse - something he hasn’t done since he was a teenager. He’s been fined for an overflowing sink before. He tried to tell the Government Safety Officer that the Government Handy-people assigned to his apartment have failed to fix his plumbing on numerous occasions. The two emails he receives in quick succession are always the same:Â
Thank you, loving and giving citizen, for letting us know about this dangerous problem. We will investigate immediately,
Sincerely,
The Department of Safety
Thank you, loving and giving citizen, for your previous email. Our most trusted and skilled investigators have looked into this issue and discovered that the citizen, not the Government Handy-people, are at fault. Unfortunately, this means the fines incurred stand - and must be paid immediately.
Sincerely,
The Department of Safety
Ieota does what he usually does - he plugs the dripping tap with toilet paper, reducing the risk profile from red to orange - 59%. Next he collects a cup from his kitchen and slowly transports the water in the sink to the toilet, before flushing it. He then, wincing as he does so, collects his favourite hand-stitched tea-towels, and slowly wipes up the entirety of the water on the ground. It takes him less than ten minutes.
Ieota huffs and sits on his bed. The risk profiles are all now at yellow. As the water completely dries, they return to green. Ieota knows for the water in his sink to overflow and reach under the bathroom door, it has likely been longer than two hours. He sighs as his phone vibrates in his pyjama pocket. It’s a new email:
Dear loving and giving citizen, a dangerous problem has been brought to our attention. At 4.49AM various risk-profile red object-relationships were discovered in Room 732, Apartment Block 149Q, of the Central Living District. Since these were not brought down to green within two hours, we regrettably must inform you that you have incurred several fines. However, the citizen will be pleased to know that they need not do anything at this juncture: Government Vouchers will be removed out of the citizen’s main account within the hour.
Sincerely,
The Department of Safety
Ieota wipes his face. He had a dream once of leaving this city. Of saving enough vouchers to buy him a ticket to the Bubble; to live in paradise above the middle of the pacific ocean. Now, he must keep going to work. He glances across at his desk at the end of bed, beside the window. I’m one of the lucky ones, he tells himself. He has to remember that. Many people, those heroic leaders who run our fine nation, still have to exit their home to reach their workplace. They still have to go outside and face incredible danger, everyday.
Chur,
The Delinquent Academic
good to see this out in the wild!