Perfect Flaw

by Robin Blankenship

  The rain showed signs of abating, and the men climbed back out of the vehicle to continue their jobs. Before they parted company, the Squad Leader told him: “We should talk more often.”

  “Whenever there’s an opportunity,” Ross said. He didn’t mind some conversation, even if it veered into dangerous waters at times. It was a welcome addition to the official socialising hours in the evening, which were often boring and limited to contacts with people of his own level at the designated Pub. And these last few days the only topic raised in the Level D Pub was the terrible weather, and he preferred not to be reminded of that in his few spare hours.

  After ten days the weather finally improved. The wind and rain stopped, but the grey cloud cover wasn’t restored completely, sheltering the city from the sun only intermittently. Now the Cleaning Squads could begin the real work. The City Council encouraged everyone to make sure life reverted to its former situation as quickly as possible. “Everyone should take up his responsibility,” the Council’s spokesman declared. “No one should rest until the City is back in its pristine state. Only this way will you all be able to live safely and comfortably. Keep in mind that this City was built for man and for man only. Not any contamination will be allowed. No cracks in the concrete will be overlooked, each sign of wear or tear will be spotted, reported and repaired. The Council counts on your unwavering commitment and drive.”

  Ross shook his head in despair as he noticed, on the first “normal” day, what was awaiting the Squads. He did his tour of inspection in his area, and made a note of everything he saw. Small patches of moss had appeared on the pavement and on some facades. Blades of grass could be seen, tiny green intruders hoping to pass unnoticed. Several insects crawled or flew around, ants, bugs, wasps, flies. One small lizard scuttling away as he approached completed the picture. The entire city must be soiled to an unprecedented degree. The Squads would have to work around the clock to eradicate all these life-forms. And the faint breeze carried yet more fluffs of pollen, those tireless messengers of death.

  At the end of the first day, Ross had a short conversation with the Squad Leader. “My men can’t take it any more,” Thomas said. “They’re exhausted, and some even claim this harrowing work is virtually pointless.”

  “I hope the Council doesn’t find out about your men’s subversive ideas. Such views aren’t exactly encouraged, and I’m putting it mildly.”

  “I know. People should be more cautious. But don’t you think the Council is going too far at certain moments? Their reasoning is so rigid, so harsh.”

  “The Council prefers not to take any chances. They haven’t forgotten the lessons from the past.”

  “Neither have we. But we can get rid of all these critters and weeds without taking things to the limit.”

  “You’re underestimating the enemy, my dear friend. One mosquito infecting one single man may unchain an epidemic. One plant may spread into a green tide, attracting many more animals and vegetation and insurmountable problems. Zero tolerance is the only way.”

  The Squad Leader shot him a weary look. “I can see you’re a hard-liner. Just like the City Council.”

  “It’s the hard-liners who survive,” Ross rebutted. “You know the saying. No cracks in the concrete will be overlooked…”

  The Squad Leader nodded. “Of course. Will you tell the Council now that my men are growing disgruntled?”

  “I will pretend I never heard your words,” Ross said. “I understand your men are under enormous strain. It’s only natural that they show weakness at a moment of crisis like this. Tell your men they have my full support. I’m sure the Council will be behind them, especially in these difficult times.”

  For several days the Squads put in many hours, removing all traces of vegetation and killing all the insects and other creatures they could find. Ross did round after round of inspection, checking if the Squads had not overlooked something and if perhaps any new intruders had arrived on the scene. A lot of progress was made, but each time Ross was about to conclude a particular area had been cleared, he noticed an alarming presence. A small spider, scuttling away, glimpsed from the corner of his eye. A minuscule patch of green, almost hidden from sight, having taken root in an unlikely place.

  Ross was convinced that everything would be back to normal soon, when on the fifth day the City Council spokesman announced some devastating news. Cockroaches had been found in the City’s food supplies. The matter was being investigated, and measures would be taken as quickly as possible. No more details were given.

  At the first lunch break after the announcement, Ross noted that his colleagues were discussing the matter. They shouted loud enough to drown the pounding music filling the mess-hall.

  “What they usually do is destroy the supplies that have gone bad or been soiled,” one man said at the top of his voice. “But can they do that now?”

  “If there are cockroaches all over the supplies, they must destroy everything,” a second man concluded. “But then what will people eat?”

  “What are we eating now?” a third man joined in, pointing at the food on his tray. “Can someone tell us what this is we’re getting?”

  “This is not the moment to complain about the food,” Ross argued. “What will the Council decide? Will we have something to eat at all? Will there be famine? How will the City survive?”

  The mess-hall administrator must have understood a heated discussion was being held, as he turned up the music’s volume, rendering all conversation impossible. The men ate, their thoughts concentrated on what they would find on their trays the following days – if there would be something at all. It was the first time Ross had seen his colleagues engaging in an argument over lunch. The entire City’s population must be on edge.

  After his last round of inspection, Ross had supper in the privacy of his small house. He nibbled his tablets, wondering if these were perhaps the last he would eat. A week’s supplies were usually handed out on the first day of the week, which was tomorrow. He assumed he was not the only one anxious to find out how the City Council would cope with the crisis.

  That evening he went to the Level D Pub, and found a surprisingly high number of people in attendance. The conversations dealt invariably with the hot topics of the last few days, the bad weather that had opened the gate for so many creatures and plants, and the food crisis. While some people were convinced that there was basically nothing to worry about, others claimed the Apocalypse was about to descend onto them. Both parties had strong arguments to back up their theory. Ross didn’t stay long. He had come here to get away from the pressures of work, not to be reminded of them.

  The next morning he did his first round of inspection, and was happy to note everything was as it should be. For the first time in many days, he would not have to call the Squad. A smile appeared on his face, and he was about to return home and have breakfast when he noted a flotilla of pollen sailing past on the breeze. Almost simultaneously, he heard the typical buzzing sound of an insect, but didn’t see it. Would this never end? He scanned the sky, patches of blue among the grey clouds, and to his horror he saw a bird, high up there. The situation was degrading rapidly. He called the Squad, informed them of the problem, and went back inside to have breakfast.

  He had almost finished as he got a call. It was the Food Administrator, who told him that the City Council had decided to ration the food supplies, but Inspectors and other key personnel would get slightly bigger rations, so as not to impair their capacity to work, considered vital for the City’s security. In order not to publicise this, he would not receive his week’s rations along with the rest of his area’s population, but during his lunch break. Ross acknowledged the message. Having a Level D job did have its advantages.

  He could only hope that the City Council would ensure the food production was speeded up, so that the population would not suffer overly much. Social unrest would only make matters
worse. It was clear to him that the City was heading for its biggest crisis in recent times, and he shuddered to think what would happen when public dissatisfaction reached its boiling point.

  The rest of the day was unusual in various ways. The Squads came around, but there was little they could do apart from catching fluffs of pollen. The thought struck him that these uniformed men seemed to be playing a merry game, rather than safeguarding the survival of the City.

  “I hope this constant flow of pollen will stop soon,” the Squad Leader told him. “We must look like fools. We’re supposed to kill and exterminate, not to jump around like children.”

  Instead of telling him they were indeed making fools of themselves, Ross replied: “Every bit of pollen is a potential clump of vegetation. So in a sense you are exterminating. You’re doing what’s expected of you. Concentrate on your job and get those degrading ideas out of your head.”

  “Of course, Inspector.”

  During his lunch break he received the week’s food supplies, an amount that appeared modest but that should be sufficient. He wondered how much workers in the lower levels were entitled to. The deafening music in the mess-hall irritated him. This had never happened before. It was an indication of how he was buckling under the strain he had endured. No doubt it was true for every inhabitant of the City. For how long could they go on like this?

  For a long time they had lived comfortable lives in the City, and no one had questioned the Council’s authority. There had been occasional problems, which had always been solved quickly and efficiently. Life in the City might seem extremely rigid and regimented, with men and women living separately and a strict set of rules and regulations to stick to, but it had been free of the medical, social and criminal upheavals that had struck humanity in the past. Now that period seemed to draw to a close. Would chaos and epidemics make a triumphant return? Would the City built for man and for man only crumble under the onslaught of aggressive invaders?

  Late in the afternoon he received a call from the Justice Administrator. Ross was told his inspection duties for the day were cancelled and he had to attend a public trial in a neighbouring district. The Administrator gave him the specific place and time where the trial would be held. When he arrived there at the scheduled hour, he noted most of the district’s inhabitants were there, and a vast number of Inspectors and Squad Leaders from all over the City.

  A representative of the Justice Administration welcomed everyone. “Superb work was done by this district’s Inspector,” he said. “Yesterday this dedicated City worker discovered an irresponsible citizen, living in this district, had caught a lizard during the period of bad weather the City suffered, and kept the animal alive in a make-shift cage, thus exposing all the City’s inhabitants to an incalculable risk. It goes without saying that this district’s Cleaning Squad has already dealt with the issue. Now it is up to the Justice Administration to pass sentence on this citizen.”

  The crowd looked how two uniformed security officers hauled a man out of an apartment block for level B workers. The man tried to hide his face, realising both what crime he had committed and what ordeal was awaiting him. A roar of cat-calls rose from the audience. The Justice representative addressed him directly.

  “Citizen, you have exposed the entire City to great risk. You have jeopardised the safety the City Council has painstakingly managed to maintain. Your despicable actions are unforgivable. The Justice Administrator has decided all traces of your activities in this district must be erased. So it will be. I ask five law-abiding citizens from the district to empty this man’s apartment.”

  Several men raised their hands, and five of them were selected. They hurried into the building, removed all the criminal’s possessions and spread them out on the street. The Justice representative then sprinkled a liquid onto the goods, and put fire to the stack. Cheers went up as flames devoured the furniture, clothes and personal items of the victim, while the audience chanted “Cleansing fire, cleansing fire.” Soon there was nothing left but a small mound of cinders. Then the criminal was led away, and the crowd dispersed. These people had all been dismissed from work to attend the trial, but were now expected to resume their jobs.

  Ross returned to his district too. What had possessed this unfortunate soul to keep a living lizard in his apartment? He must have known it would be discovered one day, and what fate would be in store for him. He would now have to serve a term in the City Prison, from which only the strongest men returned. Ross shook his head, failing to understand why some people chose to disobey the rules in such a foolhardy way. They simply did not deserve to live in this City. The punishment for this sort of crime might be harsh, but it was justified.

  Ross was not surprised he was given special orders the day afterwards. All the City’s Inspectors were supposed to do a thorough check of every house and apartment in their area. If one man had managed to keep a lizard, others may have had similar ideas. The Council would not take any chances, and urged all citizens to fully co-operate with the Inspectors who would visit them shortly. Any suspicious behaviour would be interpreted as an admission of guilt and be punished accordingly.

  In the morning Ross did his usual inspection, then had breakfast. It was just one tablet, a meagre ration, but still more than what most people had left. Still feeling hungry, he began his full inspection tour of his area, which would last an entire week at least if he was to do it thoroughly. He might not run into many people as he carried out his duties – most people would be at their factories or offices, apart from workers with special hours or exceptional schedules.

  His first inspection run didn’t yield anything. He hadn’t expected any spectacular results. The man with the lizard had probably been an exception, and it would surprise him if he stumbled onto any other creatures or plants hidden in someone’s apartment. Afterwards he went to the Bureau to file his reports. As he was about to finish, one of his colleagues at the desk next to him whispered:

  “Inspector?”

  He looked up. “Yes?”

  “We should talk. Do you have a minute? Can we discuss something while we go to the mess-hall to have lunch?”

  Ross nodded. This was unusual, but not against the rules. “Fine with me.”

  A few minutes later they were on their way to the mess-hall and his colleague said: “I’ve received information. I think we all should know.”

  “Information about what?”

  “Haven’t you noticed that social unrest is brewing? People are no longer happy with the way the City Council is running things. The food rations, the strict obedience of the regulations, the endless clean-ups, the sanctions. The unrest runs through all the levels. It’s not just A and B, but even the higher levels, up to E. Many Squad Leaders and Inspectors like ourselves share these feelings.”

  “The City Council isn’t taking these actions for no reason. Every measure is taken in the City’s best interest.”

  “I know that. Still, people would like some more freedom, the possibility to socialise with women, even to raise children. Wouldn’t you say that’s a justified demand?”

  “If people were free, they might make the same mistakes that caused so many problems in the past.”

  “That’s a direct quote from our history lessons. I know all that, and I’m not denying it. Still, many people are convinced the Council is taking its views a bit too far. I was hoping you might share that opinion, but you seem to be firmly on the Council’s side.”

  “Why were you hoping it would be otherwise?”

  The man shook his head. He seemed to be glad they had reached the mess-hall, where the music, played at a higher volume than before, made every discussion impossible. Was the man trying to rally supporters for his cause? Was he planning something? Would subversive or even revolutionary forces take advantage of the social unrest and try to seize control? Was the City Council aware of this alarming evolution? Should he warn
the Council?

  Or was this colleague working for the Council, posing as a revolutionary to discover who might be receptive to subversive messages? Maybe the Council had got the air something was afoot and was gathering information. In that case it would be wiser not to react. It was a difficult situation. It so preoccupied him that his appetite was spoiled, although the meagre lunch ration did not require a lot of appetite.

  The following days he continued his inspections. The first three days did not yield anything. They were marred only by fairly inclement weather, spells of bright sunlight alternating with showers. This was far from ideal for the City, considering its current problems. The Council preferred overcast skies, with no rain and only a light breeze. Such weather was said to keep the City’s population more subdued, while sunlight and rain raised the risks of “invaders” meeting with success, and wind only brought more pollen and consequently more problems. Powerful as the City Council was, it could exert no influence on meteorological conditions, however. On the fourth day of his district tour he unexpectedly ran into a man as he entered an apartment in a building for level B workers.

  “Good morning, citizen,” Ross said, surprised. It was highly unlikely but not altogether impossible for someone to be home in the morning, but he would like to know why.

  “Good morning, Inspector,” the man replied. “I assume you come to check my place.”

  “Yes, indeed. I hope there will be no problem. And could you perhaps explain your presence here at this hour?”

  The man shot him a worried look. “There should be no problem. But there is something I should tell you. It’s about my garden. That’s why I chose to stay here today.” The man smiled sheepishly.

  “Your… garden?” Ross asked, astonished. What was this man talking about? There were no gardens in the City, the very notion of a garden was supposed to be unknown, especially among level B workers. What was going on here?