Good Morning Citizen Moore

The day started like any other. I opened my eyes to darkness at 04:27. Three blissful minutes until my alarm would go off, flooding the empty void of my apartment with light and sound. Three minutes until my body would kick into autopilot to navigate the monotony of my life. Three minutes to breathe without a care. Three. Two. One.

My alarm blared to life promptly at 04:30. The peaceful darkness lost as the single room of my apartment erupted in the colors of dawn, or what I assume dawn would look like. I’ve never actually seen it; the City is always gray. Accompanying the faux sunrise, the same twenty second clip of music played. I have it memorized, and it never plays longer than a minute. Today is no different. As the second verse is coming to its end, my feet touch the slightly cooled floor and I stand, ending the music abruptly. The stilted voice imitation assigned to me echoes around the sparse walls of my home.

[Good Morning Citizen Moore]

Good Morning Faize. Please provide daily updates.

[The weather for the City today is overcast with a high of 291 K and a low of 291 K.]

[The City will be hosting -sport- in all designated green spaces at 11:00, 13:00, 15:00 and 17:00. Your schedule is free at 13:00 and 17:00. Will you be participating Citizen Moore?]

No Faize. What else?

[WARNING! Citizen Moore you have not participated in -sport- in 279 days. Are you sure you want to decline?]

…I will attend at 17:00, Faize. What else?

[I will remind you at 16:00. There is a Company Dinner tonight at 21:00. Your attendance is expected.]

Is it formal or informal?

[-reading from Company contract- …Company events will always be formal. Employees are expected to attend all Company functions. Exception may be authorized by a supervisor at least one month prior…]

Wonderful. Anything else, Faize?

[I will remind you of the Company dinner at 19:00.]

[There are several clubs and small groups with scheduled meetings today. You have meetings at 11:00, 12:30, 14:30, and 15:00. You also have (17) urgent correspondence; (4) Family, (10) Professional, (1) National, (2) Personal. Would you like them read now?]

Thank you, Faize. No, I will read them on the Tran.

After this check in with Faize, I begin my morning routine, my path illuminated by the faint blue glow of my own footprints on the glossy black floor. The Suspension Pod, to participate in my daily required automated athletic stimulation. The Style Screen, to clean myself and select the same outfit as every day, slate gray suit accented with silver-blue trim. The Artificial Nutrient Dispenser, to retrieve my allotted morning caloric sustenance. At precisely 05:30, the faux dawn faded from the walls and ceiling of my apartment and Faize announced.

[Citizen Moore there is a delay on Tran Station 0-7, if you do not depart within 10 minutes, you will arrive at the Company after 07:00.]

Thank you Faize. Transfer to earpiece, and initiate Home Defense.

[Transferring…]

The apartment is terribly bleak after thematic waking procedures are deactivated; glossy black floor and four matte gray walls. Home. I make my way into the main hall for my floor of the Building.

[Home Defense Active]

Behind me, the whir of locks spinning into place, sealing my home shut. Before me, the equally bleak hall, and equally bleak others that filed down to Tran Station 0-7. They wore similar gray and blue attire and had similarly blank expressions as they queued down the hall. I don’t know how long it takes for the queue to filter out of the Building. I note passing the threshold and exiting, making my way to Station 0-7 among the field of others bound for the same Quad as I.

I don’t speak to the others, and they don’t speak to me. I don’t think they remember how. They stare with glazed eyes, always forward. They move mechanically, never a step out of line. The queue is silent as always. I think what always gets me is the faces. Maybe they have forgotten how to express anything; their mouths never move. No. It’s not that they have forgotten. They can’t express.

[Citizen Moore your heart rate has increased to 90 bpm.]

The panic begins somewhere below my heart. It rises like the tide - what is a tide? – I have no answer for myself. I do not know what the tide is, I have never seen it.

[Citizen Moore your heart rate has increased to 140 bpm. This is an unscheduled activity. Please desist.]

They do not speak because they cannot. Their mouths are masks. The are made of something smooth and white. They cover mouth and nose, leaving only the eyes. Eyes that are glazed. Eyes that don’t see. I feel the tide rise into my throat, instinctively raising my hand to check my own mouth.

My hand doesn’t rise.

[WARNING! Citizen Moore your heart rate has increased to 170 bpm. You are approaching critical zone.]

The tide rises into my mouth, which I can’t feel. It wants to escape in a scream that won’t come.

Doors close behind me. I am standing among the blind and mute others, packed into the Tran. I don’t remember boarding. The tide is right against my lips, trying to break free. I hear a sound like beeping, distant and muted. It grows louder with each blind eye that doesn’t meet my gaze, until it is all I can hear.

[WARNING! Citizen Moore your heart rate has exceeded 200 bpm. Relaxation Procedure Alpha Initiated.]

My vision fades, and there is just the sound.

[Good Morning Citizen Moore. You have meetings at 07:00, 11:00, 12:30, 14:30, and 15:00. You also have (21) urgent correspondence; (5) Family, (11) Professional, (2) National, (3) Personal. Would you like to read them now?]

No. Thank you, Faize. I will read them at the Company.

[Of course Citizen Moore. It is 06:00 and you will arrive at the Company promptly at 06:50.]