The Watchers

I was taught that there’s a spark that happens when people meet face to face. A transference of energies, so to speak. We can feel it, apparently, although many people are not aware of it or acknowledge it. They say it’s why we see all drivers as idiots or get annoyed with large crowds. We become desensitized to the millions of stories all around us and generalize them down to one simple idea. The idea that the majority of people are stupid, raving, easily manipulated, maniacs who would rather see the world burn than not get their way. I was told that if we just talk to people we can see that this is not true. I was told that people are complex, compassionate beings.

I, respectfully, disagree. If the world is full of kind, smart, and compassionate people then the pain and suffering of that world would mean that life is chaos. It would mean that all the preparation in the world will not save you. It would mean that I am simply a cog in the machine. And I refuse to accept that. I can see the clear dividing line between me and the mob. They are selfish and rude with no concern for the needs of society. I am better than them. I understand that we must work together. Humanity is not a collection of individuals. We are a writhing mass of ants. One that must work, sacrifice, and give up the self for the all.

A bright, sunny chime comes from the far left monitor and I am ejected from my comfortable daydreams. The heart monitor for Cell 22 is spiking above normal. I switch the feed for that cell over to my main screen and see him doing pushups. Pushups. During sleeping hours? I know he’s only been here a few days but this is ridiculous. My hand flicks the activation switch for Cell 22 and his body goes stiff. The audio levels peak with his screams and Cell 23 and Cell 21 both bolt upright. I hit the mute button to save my ears and flip the activation switch back down. He collapses to the floor and then crawls up into his bed. Cell 21 mutters something and stares up into the camera. Typical 21, always complaining about something. 

“Is there an issue 21?”

He flinches as my voice booms into the cell. It seems that my upgrades to the intercom system have been effective. They can’t ignore me or pretend to not hear my directives anymore. I activate 22’s intercom as well. He could stand to learn from this lesson.

“You know that I do not tolerate complaints 21. Cell 22 was exercising during sleeping hours. This is an inexcusable breach of rules. Order and compliance are the foundations of this tower. You have all shown a blatant individualism in the outside world and so that must be purged from your system. Now put on your masks and recite the creed.”

They both grab their mask from the small bedside table and stand facing a wall. I press the red button under each of their screens and all four walls of their cells become mirrors. I switch over to the camera hidden behind the walls and admire them for a moment. They stand beautifully identical. Each in their plain white jumpsuits and featureless porcelain masks. I am filled with a sense of pride. These two men will soon be molded into perfect fractions of a whole. My gift to the collective. I turn the volume up and settle into my chair to let the words wash over me.

“We have no name. We have no wants. We have no needs. Our goals are the goals of the whole. We can not die. We will always endure. We act as one. We think as one. We offer our backs as steps others take into the future. We are the sheep. The Eye is the shepherd. Once we were blind. Now the Eye helps us see.”

They finish the creed and 22 goes to remove his mask. I give him a small jolt in his feet.

“This is your first reflection 22 and so I will be lenient. We do not look at our faces. Our appearance is a reminder of the self. Please wait until the mirrors are gone before removing your mask.”

The solid white walls return and they both walk back to their beds. There’s a pause from 22 and he slowly waves a hand up at my camera. His lips move silently. I roll my eyes and turn the intercom on.

“Sigh. What is it now 22?”

“Well, sir. May I use the restroom?”

“Of course 22. Basic human needs are respected in this facility. The Eye will move away from you when the seat lifts up.”

He relaxes slightly. My overhead camera shifts away but the cameras behind the walls remain on. I minimize the screen. I’m not some sicko. I check in on each cell to find that everyone else is blissfully asleep. The vitals for 15 are very faint but he will recover in time. The most extreme punishments are still usually survivable. I hope he can be rehabilitated before he passes away. I lean back and survey the wall of screens in front of me. Five monitors high and five wide. Twenty-five pieces all waiting to be fit into the puzzle. It’s a shame that we will be losing some soon. The graduation committee will be here tomorrow for 6, 10, 12, and 20. I pull up the screens for those four and look them over. Perfectly molded pieces. They all sleep with their masks on now. I feel that it makes assimilation much more difficult but I have been told that the reprograming doesn’t work without them.

I think back to my musing earlier, sacrifices are necessary. I am very proud of them. They had the strength to realize their weakness and submit to their role. It is a difficult thing to admit you are a lesser being. Many wrong pieces have come through this facility. Humans with pride and anger stamped all over their faces. Weak, pathetic things with no self-control. Disgusting. We could do so much more if they weren’t there, gumming up the works. I don’t understand why we have to suffer an existence with them. Why do we have to breathe the same air? It’s unfair. So very, very unfair.

The room around me lights up red and a shock of pain runs through my spine. My hands seize up and tear small holes into the armrest of the chair. I can’t breathe. My vision goes black.

I open my eyes and flex my hands. The fingers are numb but I can move them. There are screens in front of me and a lot of buttons. So many buttons. Where am I? I’m in an office chair. The room around me is blank except for the screens. There’s a large, red, orb in the upper corner of the room. It’s looking at me. I hear a mumbling voice, like someone’s talking through glass. The whining in my ears slowly leaves and the voice grows clearer.

“Do you hear me 9C? Your vitals are at normal levels now respond accordingly.”

I’m at my post. I was watching the screens. There was a shock. My mind returns to me in an instant and I bolt upright. The screens all still read the same. I look at the time and see that only thirty seconds have passed. I spin around in my chair and address the Eye.

“I apologize, sir. I can hear you very clearly.”

“Good. Now explain to me why your adrenaline was spiking the system. This surge will cost the facility time and money which we will be docking from your pay.”

The adrenaline spike. Of course. I take a deep breath and adjust my uniform.

“I had a moment of weakness sir. I was remembering wrong pieces and I got angry. It will not happen again.”

The Eye does nothing for about a minute. It stares at me silently. I know that it’s reading my adrenaline, looking for another spike. It will not find one. I push my anger down and fill the void with a cold carelessness. I replace my anger with pity, my rage with apathy. The Eye speaks again, softer this time.

“Very good 9C. You are learning quickly. Remember to cite the Creed before you leave. Promotional agents will be arriving tomorrow with the committee. Watcher 9B has suffered a setback and requires rehabilitation. We will see you on level B soon.”

I push another adrenaline spike down and nod to the Eye. I gather my paperwork and walk to the door. The door becomes a mirror. I stare at the thing in the reflection. It’s wearing a white suit and staring back at me with a blank stare. We speak the Creed to each other. The door opens when we finish and I step out into the light. I look to my left and right at the other Watchers leaving their posts. We all turn to the right and walk down the hall. One by one. A row of perfect pieces.