Chapter 2
Pairs well with: Know Your Enemy, by Rage Against the Machine
The walk home was slow. Juan felt sluggish the whole way; he was tired from the melee, disappointed in himself for losing, but most of all upset for not getting the special assignment that evening. Rae was going to take his place, and she didn’t really earn it. He could have easily let her take that blow, then taken Troy one-on-one. Instead, as thanks, he ended up with more bruises and a round singe mark on his chest. It was a lesson he promised himself he wouldn’t soon forget: Mercy leads to failure.
Entering their small kitchen, Juan found his mother, Surmieda, staring out the window viewscreen. Despite their 6th floor apartment, which faced identical buildings on either side, the screen showed the elaborate skyline of Nekonikon with a brilliant, golden sunrise tracing through the clouds. The view was from Krelborn’s headquarters, the tallest building in the Battery, and high enough to see all three regions of Nekonikon- the Battery, Cogstown, and even Harborside. Some days, Juan tried to see the details of Skid Row, but it appeared only as a dark shadowed area to the left of the screen before the image gave way to the opulent pagodas and soaring skyscrapers of Harborside.
Usually, Juan didn’t like lies, which is why he didn’t like to read the news on the PubWeb or even Krelnet. Too much was too easy to fake, even videos and recordings were suspect. The only thing you could be sure of was what you personally experienced. That’s why face-to-face conversations and IRL events were more popular with most people his age. But lies like the window viewscreen were OK, because he knew the truth. Were there an actual old-fashioned glass window in their kitchen, his view would be the gray cement of the adjacent building. Were he to lean in close, press his cheek to the cold glass, he might catch a glimpse of the perpetually gray sky. The viewscreen image was much nicer; he didn’t mind the ruse.
“Morning mijo,” his mother, greeted him from the table. Of course, it wasn’t actually morning, it was closer to 14:00, but her Krelborn assigned circadian schedule had her waking up and getting ready for work at this time. As usual, her breakfast was Nutri-Cafe, a synthetic drink favored by the Olds. It had everything a body needed to start the day off right- at least that was the slogan.
“Morning mom.” She appeared to be contemplating the city skyline. But the red light on her temple was flashing, indicating to Juan that while his mom acknowledged his presence, she was reading an AR overlay on her neuro. Probably, some last-minute memo she needed before work today. She was diligent about making sure she was up to date on all her department’s policies. Surmieda was adamant with Juan his whole life, that was how to stay ahead of the competition- “Make sure you know what they know.”
Juan grabbed a grape toastie and popped it in the zapper. He didn’t have much time before History class, so he kissed his mother on the cheek. She didn’t reply. Her lights were now solid red and green, indicating she was in a deep audio-visual, and she was not able to see or hear her son.
Munching on his toastie, he climbed the stairs to his room to clean up before class started. Juan wasn’t very eager to attend, but it’s not like he had much of a choice. When it came to the physical stuff, he was a model student. Always a big kid, he was naturally athletic at a pretty young age. He hated his other subjects, the ones where he had to sit, listen, read, write, and research. Luckily, Guard track students had almost no academic classes. The one exception was the requirement to study History.
In the bathroom, he rinsed his mouth with a minty anti-bac while standing in his decontaminator. He just did a quick 15 second steam. Watching himself in the digital mirror, his eyes fixed on his left shoulder mounting plate and right shoulder anchor. They ached, as did all newly implanted hardware. His were standard upgrades for all heavy weapons students in Krelborn’s Guard track. Powered by an internal battery, they gave him extra upper body strength and enabled him to attach shoulder mounted armaments.
The decontaminator’s exhaust fan turned off, Juan stepped down and spit the anti-bac in the sink. His AR overlay displayed the day’s weather and offered an outfit from his wardrobe. He accepted the suggestion and got dressed.
It was soon time for class and Mr. Wagner did not tolerate tardiness. Mr. Wagner was an Old. None of the students knew how old he was, but they were certain he was from before the Great Secession because his hardware was retro. He had none of the sleek post-war integrated interfaces which made people look perpetually 30-ish, he had only bulky old-school implants, wrinkles, and scars. The running joke among guards was that this made him ideal to teach History because he was basically an artifact himself. None of the students, Juan included, would dare say that to his face though. Teaching History was a side gig for Wagner, but one he insisted on doing. The guy was one of the higher ups at Krelborn, he had a permanent board seat and was as tough as he was smart. He taught History exclusively for the Guard track students, reserving the right to personally evaluate each one.
Juan hardlined into his tablet and laid down on his bed. His neuro lights came on solid red and green as his view was replaced with the Krelborn logo- a metal cube with energy bolts. He could see a few of his classmates in the queue but most had yet to log in. There were still a few minutes, but Juan had to wait patiently without distraction. He banged out the drum beat from the GreinScrien song on his thighs to pass the time; the hardwire to the tablet meant his neuro was overridden and he could not access anything on the web but his class.
Other students were now logging in more rapidly. He saw Rafiq’s name pop up and sent him a ping. Rafiq pinged back immediately. Good, he wasn’t skipping. Many students, especially seniors, used dumb AI bots to attend their classes for them from time to time. Rafiq had done it a bit too often and now was at risk of repeating the whole course before he would be allowed to officially graduate. He would be monitored closely and if caught using a dumb AI, he’d be done. Juan was glad for the responsibility his friend was starting to show.
Rafiq and Juan had been friends throughout school. Though Rafiq lived in a whole different area of the Battery and his parents were both executives in the highly competitive Intelligence sector, he and Juan had always clicked. They had a shared love of sports and a shared disdain for academics. At times, their friendship was strained by their competitiveness, but they managed to keep it mostly friendly over the years. Though, Juan had to admit, the closer they got to graduation, the more Rafiq seemed to care about their rivalry and the more frequent his outbursts.
Juan attributed much of his friend’s attitude to the pressure put upon him by his parents. It took them a long time to accept that their son was on the Guard track, but Rafiq was always as jazzed about it as Juan had been. They pushed their son hard, wanting him to make the best of his situation. After graduation, he and Juan dreamed of being partners, prowling the streets of Nekonikon together, keeping the people safe. Of course– Juan smiled to himself– Rafiq would need to graduate first.
Many people frowned on security as a career, but for Juan it was an excellent option. Protecting people made him feel good, like the fulfillment of his purpose. Krelborn had given him a lot. He wanted to give back and spend his time serving the community, keeping people- and their property- safe. Outside the games and machinations of his fellow aligned citizens, he could just put his head down and do good work. He’d take care of Krelborn’s people, and they’d take care of him. Let other people worry about politics and business.
Ba-ding beep
The screen switched to a live feed of Mr. Wagner sitting at his desk. Unlike other teachers who used animations, interactive games, and videos to supplement their lessons, Mr. Wagner just sat and talked. With another teacher, this could be boring, but there was something compelling about him. Wagner was a good speaker and passionate about the Krelborn mission. He personally fought for Nekonikon during the GS and had a bunch of cool stories to keep the students interested. The man was authentic; credibility emanated from the old tech and scarred face.
“Welcome everyone. I am glad to see you all have attended on time, at least you learned something this past year.” There were far too many students for Wagner to be able to ping them all, but he sent out some random ones and got immediate responses which brought a wry smile to his hard face.
“Were I naiver, I would trust everyone completed the assigned reading, but I know seniors. You are all eager to get out there to serve your people and I commend you for that desire. But you are not there yet.” He spoke that last sentence slowly, letting each word hang in the air.
“So, let us make sure you know what we are talking about, hmm?” He glanced around the room, which Juan realized must have been weird for him sitting alone in his office. Yet the gesture had the intended effect of drawing the class to him.
“When Nekonikon was established, its founders wanted to ensure the failings of the past would not contaminate our future. The American experiment in representative democracy was well-intended but faced a near insurmountable challenge in the digital era. Once AI became prevalent, the end of their system was nigh. Their government was slow to respond to new realities, and the officials- who were supposedly the representatives of the citizens that elected them- were actually serving the interests of the private corporations that funded them. Essentially it was chaos in the guise of order; everyone fought, and nothing happened.”
He sounded almost bored as he spouted off this history, but Juan knew the old lecturer’s rhythms enough by now to know he was just lulling his audience before launching into some great point.
Lying in his bed, Juan stifled a yawn. He had heard this story a thousand times, but he didn’t dare try and leave the stream. Best to just get this over with. What was the use in knowing about the Great Secession or the Final Contracts which established the city states in the West? Admittedly, the wars were interesting. Learning about the AI race, the new weapon developments, and the battles were kinda fun- for school anyway. But ultimately, who really cared? What did it matter? The result remained the same: some megacorps seceded from the United States and established their own sovereign city states along the west coast. Every grade schooler knew the story; Juan was not sure why they had to keep reading about it again and again each year. As he got older there were more details added to the story, but the basic narrative was always the same.
Wagner was now moving to the virtues of the Nekonikon system. Juan agreed that it was certainly much better than the slow and ineffective USA government that led to the GS. Nekonikon was run by a council of five representatives. Three– a representative from each of the megacorps– occupied the red, yellow, and green seats and two– elected by popular vote from non-aligned citizens– occupied the black and white seats. He and his mother didn’t get a vote since they were Krelborn-aligned. They worked for the company, and, in turn, the company served their interests and represented them.
“In Nekonikon there are no upper and lower houses to delay new laws, there are just The Five making decisions for the good of everyone, just as founder Gregory intended. Of course, the boards of Krelborn, Longyu and Cogswell-Smythe all advise their representatives, but the final decisions for everything in our state are made by The Five. What the Americans got right was that no one person should ever have total control. That inevitably leads to weakness. Though such nations may seem strong in the short term, they eventually succumb to their own corruption. Nekonikon ensures that the people are represented and yet we are able to make timely decisions for the good of everyone.”
Wagner then went on with more details into the nuances of their system, comparing their decision-making record with that of the remaining United States to the east. He held up example after example of where Nekonikon made prosperous decisions in a fraction of the time the USA made their moves. It was now common for the US government to wait for consensus among the western city states and then draft their own legislation in accordance. These were the kind of details that were new in the senior year, but while it might be interesting to someone, Juan didn’t bother transcribing or noting any of it– he knew there were no more tests.
It was near the end of their allotted time and Wagner seemed to be coming to his conclusion.
“These days everyone has their own dumb AI. What does this mean? It means that things develop fast. Too fast for old deliberative governments to keep up. They were steamrolled by change, and we needed a governing body that was representative yet nimble. Our government is fast and agile. We can enforce legislation in a fraction of the time it took for the RepublicRats to argue over details, add in irrelevant amendments, and vote to give themselves a raise. Thank you for your time today, everyone.”
After class, Juan tried to call Rafiq but couldn’t get an answer. He didn’t bother leaving a message; he knew his friend would walk by his apartment at the same time he did every night on their way to guided duty at the Ram. Instead, Juan called Greta to make dinner arrangements. He hadn’t seen her in a couple days, and it would be nice to catch up before his shift. They agreed to meet at a nearby market. The place had food he could afford, and it was walking distance for Juan; Greta didn’t mind shelling out for a drone taxi.
He headed back downstairs to grab a drink and see his mother, but she was gone. He picked up her dirty mug and took it to the cleanser along with his plate. Sometimes he wondered if she always left her dirty dishes on purpose. Was she silently giving him the opportunity to take care of her, even in such a small way, or was it simply something she didn’t think about? Either way, it was a daily ritual Juan appreciated on some level. After all she had sacrificed for him– taking two jobs after his father died– cleaning dishes was a small way he could take care of her.