Chapter 4
Thirteen levels below ground and four rows interior laid the trade school eye piece workshop. Technicians practiced making repairs and performed adjustments and implants for reduced prices, as they sometimes made mistakes. A cheap white and blue light illuminated the doorway. Jan sat on a counter as she fidgeted with tools an her eye piece. Paul took bites of a bread roll between complaints about the food and thanks for Jan in turns.
He was trying to make himself as unaware as possible of the heavy equipment being fitted to his face. The technician removed the machine and replaced it with another one. “This smells foul” Paul said. “Really really awful. Why are we doing this again?” Jan smirked and responded, “Oh I don't know. For a whim.” She had decided that as long as she was taking care of someone who seemed to be from an historical film, she may as well act as if she were part of the same movie.
She had been unable to detect Paul's master plan in the past hour and was beginning to suspect that he had none. Jan was sure the events of the day had knocked her score beyond help and the knowledge was oddly freeing. She felt she might as well enjoy the inevitable journey to whichever prison or lunatic cell she was now destined. Something about Paul made it difficult for her to resent him for her predicament.
He smiled and chuckled nervously. The technician was bringing a series of small drills toward his right eye. Paul inhaled sharply and clenched his fists. “Wait. Wait wait wait-wait-wait-wait” he said, panicking. Then he screamed and kicked his feet out. The technician drew back slightly and looked in confusion at the patient. The technician asked,“What does DGW3837280 say?”, in the universal code. Paul was having trouble breathing. He blurted “Stop” in universal code and turned to Jan, his nutritionally enhanced bread forgotten on the floor.
“Jan,” he pleaded, “ Is this absolutely essential? I mean, can't I just do everything manually?” Jan let concern show in her eyes and tried to hide her amusement over his small tantrum. “No, I don't think so, Paul. It is most efficient to have a mount imbedded in the temple of the forehead.” she said. “Screw Efficiency!” Paul shrieked. He turned to the technician and chopped out a phrase in the universal code. He had a very bad accent. It translated to “Alternative to eyepiece?!”. The technician said curtly, “no” and lifted a jar of what looked like melted crayons and glue.
Paul looked around nervously. “What does that do? What is it for? Tell me Jan!” Jan jiggled her eye piece in her hands and brought it to her face. “It is a … what is the ancient English word...anesthesia, antiseptic,” she said, stumbling over the words as she listed them “calcium nutrient, moisturizer...” “Moisturizer?!” Paul interjected, shreiking. “Relax, Paul, really. Its ok” Jan soothed, “ Think of it as a … uhh... what's the word... torture... no. tack, tackgoo. Thats it. Think of it as a tackgoo or ear piercing or something. Women and men pierced their ears throughout human history for the sake of improving appearance. You can handle this, and it is much more functional.” Paul jumped a few times but tried to hold still through the procedure. “Tattoo, tattoo” he said to himself like a mantra.
Paul woke up feeling woozy. He was laying on a table and there was a clear and blueish lens in front of his right eye. It had a scrolling display that twitched and changed whenever he blinked his eyes. The eye piece wasn't actually touching his eye, but it came very close.
“I feel like the borg” He mumbled. Jan said excitedly, “Ooh I get the reference! Star Trek, right! You are the only other person I know who is interested in this stuff. Well, other than the teacher. But they treat everything analytically.” She paused for breath, “I suppose I am to ask how you are feeling? Not very good I expect. You fell right to the floor, luckily the technician had just finished inserting the mount. You won't have to do that again for at least a few .. well I guess the conversion is years, isn't it?” Paul had no idea Jan was so talkative. His mind was struggling to keep up with her. “I feel gross” he moaned.
Jan put her hand on his and said quietly, “ok. We can sit here for awhile. The eye pieces aren't synced up online yet, so you don't have to worry about getting up in an efficient amount of time.” Paul wasn't quite sure what that meant. “ What the hell is an efficient amount of time?”
Jan sighed. “ It varies,” she said, “but for eye piece adjustments, it is about 5 minutes and 22 seconds.” Paul concentrated on not moving his arms, now he could feel them again. He knew if he let them go of their own free will, the eye piece would be history in far less than 5 minutes and 22 seconds. “Its nice to know I have a solid number to compare myself to on even recovering from operations” He remarked sarcastically. Jan frowned. “Well,” she said, “If it makes you feel better, you had an installation, not just an adjustment, and everyone gets installations when they are still infants, when it doesn't hurt so much.” There were a few moments of silence where Jan resumed tinkering with her eye piece to avoid feeling awkward. Paul groaned and took a deep breath. He wiggled his feet and when he felt secure he wouldn't pass out, he sat up. “Hey,” he said, a bit more strength in his voice now, “Why does everyone keep score?”
Jan turned towards him and then turned away. She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to use herself as an example of the downside of scores. “ I got you something” Jan said, changing the subject. She handed Paul a nutrition bar. He opened it and cautiously took a bite, worried about the bitter taste. “hey!,” He said in surprise, “Its Chocolate!. How'd you get that?” Jan looked down at a screen which was next to a holder for her eye piece. “ Be quiet. Wait...” she said, “ There! I hacked the system. I've opened up a blind window. We can talk in this room privately. The technician will only see it as a standard memory reboot error. Your act isn't fooling me. Of course you know universal code and why we keep score. You don't have to go to such extreme limits to prove you don't.” Paul started to interrupt, but Jan drew herself up and looked him intensely in the eye.
“You know someone in the government, that man who dropped you off this morning. I wasn't dreaming. Maybe you being here is all an experiment, destruction, or whatever but I'm willing to make a trade. I gave you chocolate. I can translate for you if you really don't know universal code. I'm assigned to help you adjust. If you want to keep that front intact, you will have to have my cooperation. If you can use your government contacts to bring my score up to what it should have been if you hadn't intervened, then I'll help you. Otherwise you can fend for yourself and have a splendid career in taste-testing foods grown in radioactive soil for all I care.” Paul was astounded. “You're bribing me?”he asked. Jan looked ashamed but answered defiantly, “yes”.
Her eyes widened as she looked at the ceiling. There was a display showing a blue circle slowly fading away. Jan whispered “fuck” and glared at Paul. “Be quiet!” She warned. The circle faded away completely and Jan waited tensely. A few seconds later the technician walked in. “ There was a computer reboot. Ineffective repair work? Assistance required?” he asked, looking at no one in particular. Jan stepped forward and stood in front of him. “Mistake in repair. Correction being carried out. Assistance not required at this time,”she said mechanically in universal code. The technician spared a confused glance towards Paul before turning out the door. “What's going on?” Paul asked. Jan ignored him and fidgeted with a manual computer screen in the corner a the room. It had a side counter with an array of tools and replacement parts, each labeled with a price.
Paul was having a bit of trouble adjusting his focus and the strain was making him dizzy again. He settled on squinting his right eye shut and faced Jan to speak. That seemed to be the procedure. “Jan!” he called, “what is going on? Look at reason- if I were here with ulterior motives, I'd be able to blend in. I really need your help, but I can't do anything for your score. I don't see why it is such a big deal, anyways.” Jan glanced up at the ceiling, which now had a large illuminated circle displayed on it. She regarded Paul cautiously. “You answer my questions,” she commanded.
Paul sighed. “I'm sorry, but I can't help you. My dad sent me here as punishment. I was exiled from the commune--” Jan interrupted him, her eyes on the ceiling. “ You. Will. Answer. My. Questions,” she growled. Paul was surprised. He didn't realize she had more than a monotone voice setting. Paul stuttered, “o-ok”and waited for the onslaught. She turned to him and asked in universal code, “ How did you come here?” Paul struggled to understand for a few seconds. “Barge transport”, he answered with some effort. Jan glared at him. She quickly looked up at the ceiling again and demanded in universal code, “Where did you come from? Origins? Orders for your mission?” Paul flinched and answered, “ I don't understand.” Jan whispered, “impossible” under her breath in Ancient English. Paul heard it and perked up. “No, not impossible. I'm from a different place and ghoster code is my second language.” Jan began to answer but the size of the circle was diminishing. She asked instead, with a hint of desperation, “Can you fix my score?”
Paul glanced at the display and the counter of tools. “No, “ he answered, “ but wait!” Jan gripped the edge of the table with the screen on it. “Your eye piece thingymagidjet is broken, right?” he asked. Jan agreed. “But,” she said, “I can fix it, I mean, everyone with a mechanical skills score above 450,000 has to repair their eye pieces personally. I can put it back online when you get me the points I need.” She looked at him impatiently. He wasn't doing anything. “Hurry up, I can't wait all day. Do something!” Paul raised his arms in exasperation. “What do you want me to do!” He realized he still had a chocolate bar in his hand. “How, how did you get this? If your eye piece thing was broken, can't you just do everything manually?” Jan looked at him incredulously. “No. Because it is inefficient and it docks one's score!” Paul thought for a second. “How?” he asked.
Jan threw her hands up in despair and growled. “How what?!” she asked with venom. “How,” repeated Paul, “can a score be docked if everything is done manually? If you control what is recorded?” Jan sighed in frustration and explained, “ When an eyepiece is overdue for a checkup or something, and doesn't measure your score, you have to report everything to a screen, like the one here,” she indicated the screen to which here eyepiece was attached, “and it measures what you've done and takes away a percentage of points based on how long it took you to get the eyepiece repaired.” She crossed her arms and glared at Paul.
Paul smiled. “Why don't you lie?” he asked. “About what you report, why don't you lie?” Jan scoffed. “ Oh please. “If I were to do that, I might as well rig my eye piece to give me a great score forever.” Paul started, “ Wait. Repeat that! Jan. Jan, could you really do that? Hack into the system and cheat it? Then you could fix your score and you'd be free!” Jan sighed, “Well , theoretically, I suppose. But why? You are supposed to earn your score. But a barbarian like you would not know anything about honor or fairness. I've studied Ancient English too, but at least I do not pretend I'm still living in the chaos of the past.” Paul ignored the insult and glanced at the fading circle. He stepped close to her and put his hand on her arm. “You were willing to blackmail me for a false score a few minutes ago, how much honor is that?”he said.
Before Jan had a chance to reply, the circle faded and the technician entered the room again. “I have another appointment now and need this room” he said in universal code. Jan and Paul looked at each other and Jan picked up her eye piece. “But we aren't done” Paul whispered, “ Don't you have to fix your eye piece?” Jan nudged him in the shoulder to get him to shut up. She was halfway across the room when she realized Paul hadn't followed her. She stopped. He wasn't moving. The technician repeated his message. Paul stood still with his arms crossed. “Say please” he demanded. Jan was shocked. “I have another appointment now and need this room” said the technician, confused by the strange utterances of the young man. The technician was very confused and distressed, merely repeating the phrase over and over. Paul was not reacting in an efficient manner.
Jan walked back and dragged Paul out of the room. As the exited the door, Paul's eye piece gleamed and a blue display began tallying numbers.
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