Connection Part I: A Dystopian Novel (Perfectible Animals Book 2)

by Thomas Norwood

  “What have you got in mind?” Suzi asked.

  “I’m thinking we go straight to The Corp itself. They want to take over Shy’s city, not to mention hundreds of others, including mine and Dealer’s, so why don’t we pay them in kind?”

  “Yeah, and spend the rest of our lives in jail,” Soxy said. “Or even better—just plain dead.”

  “That won’t happen if we’re smart about it. And besides, Dealer’s got a little announcement to make, something that might enable us to pull off such a daring plan. Dealer?” Dave gestured to him, as if giving him the floor.

  “Well, as some of you know, over the last few years I’ve been trying to create an app that will allow us to more easily share each other’s tech resources and knowledge. One of the things which slows us down the most when we’re hacking is the necessity of transferring information among ourselves. But what if we didn’t have to do that? What if we could all think together, almost as one being, so that we were much better able to respond to the requirements of any given situation? Being Homo novus, we have a distinct advantage over Homo sapiens in that we are not nearly as caught up by our own egos. This enables us to more easily enter a state of consciousness where we are able to share our mental resources. So what if we had instant access to one another’s coms, having each other’s knowledge as if it were our own? This app will allow that. And more. And I’ve almost finished it. In a couple of weeks' time, we should be ready to start using it in production situations.”

  “And how exactly do you think this will allow us to hack into The Corp’s bank accounts without getting arrested or killed?” Soxy said.

  “Working as a group, we can have each other’s backs a lot more. If anything goes wrong, we’ll all know about it at the same time. And not only that, but more of us can work together on a project at the same time to make sure nothing does go wrong. It will increase our overall processing capacity by the number of people involved. It’ll be the difference between a computer program which does everything sequentially compared to a parallel processor running a dataflow program, which does everything at once. Despite the inequality of numbers, and even their security AIs, we should be able to outsmart them.”

  “Well let’s damn well hope so,” Suzi said. “Because the last thing I want is a fucking SecBot showing up on my doorstep.”

  “There is an alternative to more crime to fill our coffers,” Dealer said.

  “Let’s not get into this argument again,” Dave groaned, turning to him.

  “I still think that giving Youtopia an economy is the best solution for the long term,” Dealer said. “And I’m not the only one who thinks so. More and more people in the forums have been making a push for it. I personally think it’s something we should put to consensus again.”

  Nine months before, when the push to give Youtopia an economy had reached a peak, the Inner Circle had polled all its constituents, but in the end only thirty-eight percent had wanted an economy, so the push had failed. Dealer had been pushing for a re-vote ever since.

  “Last time we agreed that we’d wait at least a year,” Soxy said. “So let’s do that. I personally still think that giving Youtopia an economy will cause us more problems than it’s worth.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  HARVEY HELD ONTO the rail on the prow of the high-speed motor yacht’s upper deck, bending his knees to absorb the blows as the boat sliced through the waves. Roland Chase, CEO of The Corp Australia, was at the helm. He had invited Harvey and his parents to join a group of Corp members on a private floating resort that he owned, about 300 kilometers northeast of Sydney near a sand quay that was apparently teeming with genetically modified aquatic life.

  The trip was going to take around three hours. So far, Harvey had spent the first two of them admiring the skimpy swimsuit of Roland’s nineteen-year-old daughter, Samantha, who had spread herself out on a towel by the yacht’s upper-deck pool. He was wondering how he himself was going to make enough money to own a boat like this and a private resort to pilot it to.

  The Corp Australia was a subsidiary of The Corp Global. At the moment it still ran as a regular company, providing virtual services and entertainment to the Australian public, but Harvey’s father had told him last night that Roland was in negotiations with Terry Ascott, Australia’s puppet Prime Minister, and Regina Hartman, the Premier of Melbourne, to take over the city entirely. The government could no longer run Melbourne efficiently, and in order to hold onto its other cities—Sydney, Brisbane, Perth, and Adelaide—the government was prepared to sell off Melbourne for a reasonable sum. Since it had already sold Darwin and Hobart, as well as a number of smaller cities, the sale wasn’t completely unprecedented. In fact, his father had said there was a good chance that Ascott and Hartman would be joining them over the weekend and that by Monday the deal might even be completed.

  “Watch and learn, Harvey,” his father had said to him. “And if you make a good enough impression on Roland or Martha, they might even offer you a job.”

  Martha, Roland’s latest wife, was only a few years older than Harvey himself. She was genetically modified to not only be stunningly beautiful and intelligent but survive on less than four hours of sleep a night. As a result, she had completed a masters of business management and now ran Roland’s entire HR division, which employed over thirty thousand people.

  There was nothing Harvey wanted more than a job with The Corp, the most prestigious company in the country. If what his father had said was true, and Harvey had no reason to doubt him, The Corp might very soon be one of the only companies in the country.

  Samantha, not twenty meters away from Harvey, was propped up on one of the sun lounges, sipping what looked like a Mojito and staring out at the white wake behind them. Harvey went over to the bar and asked the young guy behind it for a beer, then went and sat down on the lounge next to Samantha. Since they had all been introduced when everyone boarded the boat, no awkward introductions were needed, although Harvey felt as timid as he always did around attractive women.

  “So, how’s Paris at this time of year?” Harvey said.

  “Oh, I’m not in Paris anymore. Chloe moved over to Zurich, so I’ve been staying there with her.” Chloe was presumably her mother.

  “How’s Zurich then?”

  “Pretty boring, really. Chloe’s seeing some banker, so I guess it’s alright for her, but there’s really not much going on there.” Samantha shuffled around on the sun-lounge. Harvey watched as her lithe, flawless body shimmied.

  “Where would you like to go?”

  “I’m really not sure. If I knew I’d probably go there.”

  Even though Harvey was starting to feel disappointed that Samantha’s conversational skills didn’t match her stunning appearance, he pressed on anyway, having had the confidence to break the ice.

  “Do you think you’d ever move back here, to Australia?”

  “I have thought about it. Sydney’s not too bad. And I’d see more of Roland. Not that I’m sure that would be such a good thing.”

  “You don’t get on very well with him?”

  “It’s not that.” She took her straw hat off and brushed thick blonde locks out of her eyes before putting her hat back on again. “We’re just very different, you know?”

  “In what way?”

  “I don’t know, it’s like, he never really sees me for who I am. He always just wants me to be part of his company. And I’m just not like that.”

  “He wants you to be like Martha, you mean?”

  “Yes, something like that.” Samantha looked across at him directly for the first time, and Harvey’s com registered an increased temperature in her facial blood vessels and a slight swelling of the pupils that his eyes wouldn’t have picked up by themselves.

  “Is that why you went to live with your mother?”

  “Oh no, that wasn’t really by choice. That was years ago. Chloe won the custody battle. Not that I think Roland really tried. How about you and your parents? Do you get
along?”

  “They’re okay. I don’t see them that much anymore. I’ve got a place of my own.” Harvey looked down at the non-slip fake wood of the deck.

  “I’ve thought of doing that. Too much trouble.”

  Just then Martha came up the stairs from the deck below.

  “What are you two doing up here all by yourselves?” she said in a tone of voice that was obviously supposed to be suggestive but just sounded maternal.

  “Just getting a little sunshine,” Harvey said when Samantha didn’t reply.

  “Might do the same myself. I’m kind of sick of all that business talk. It’s not like I don’t get enough of it during the week. This is supposed to be a holiday, but Roland insists on making it into a board meeting.”

  Samantha still didn’t say anything, so Harvey said, “I guess his obsessiveness has gotten him where he is today.”

  “You’re not wrong,” Samantha said. “Where would we all be without Daddy's obsessiveness?”

  Harvey wondered if calling him "Daddy" in front of Martha was designed to remind her of their relative positions: Samantha, the daughter, known to him from birth, raised and nappy-changed by him, and daughter of his first wife, whereas Martha was a late-comer to the party.

  Martha, being the good diplomat that she no doubt was, given her position, didn’t take offense. She went over to the bar to get herself a beer. then came and sat down next to them. For a moment Harvey was in heaven, surrounded by two gorgeous women, but then Roland himself came up.

  “You’re not trying to run off with my wife and daughter, are you, Harvey?”

  “I’ve been trying, but neither of them will agree to it.” Harvey felt the alcohol giving him an edge of confidence he would never otherwise have had. He just had to make sure he didn’t go overboard.

  “Good to hear I’ve got them well trained, then.” Roland himself went over to the bar and asked for "his usual," whatever that was.

  “Do you like the boat, Harvey?” Roland asked. He was a large man, and despite being over sixty, his large chest still protruded over his stomach and his shoulders were those of a rugby player. He put his hands on his hips and looked down at Harvey as if trying to sum him up.

  “A lot,” Harvey said, sitting up in the sun lounge under Roland’s interrogative glare. He wondered whether he should stand up or not.

  It’s one of the fastest luxury yachts in the world.” Roland did a quick scan of the horizon.

  Meanwhile, Harvey searched his com for "fastest luxury yachts" and found Roland’s at number one.

  “I thought it was the fastest,” Harvey said, as if he knew all about luxury yachts.

  “That it is.” Roland smiled. “Like yachts, do you?”

  “I think I’d like them more if I owned one.”

  “Well, play your cards right and you might just do that one day, lad. And I’m not talking about with my wife or daughter here.” He smiled as he went over and collected a martini from the bar.

  “Are you coming down, Marti? We’re coming into port, soon.”

  “On my way,” Martha said, but made no move to get up.

  A few minutes later the boat started slowing down. Harvey stood up to have a look at the structure they were approaching. It was a round pod, a couple of hundred meters in diameter, with sloping glass walls that ran up about four stories. Balconies were dotted across the face of it and boats were parked outside. On the roof, Harvey could see plants and trees growing.

  Their boat went through a large arch in the side and into a central funnel that was topped with a plastic dome. Inside, a concourse with beds of bamboo and palm trees ran around the water. A small jetty came out on one side. The boat shut its motors and coasted gently into it. Boat hands jumped off and tied the thick ropes onto mooring poles.

  “Shall we go down?” Harvey said.

  “I suppose we’d better,” Martha replied.

  Samantha just sat there, as if she had no intention of getting off.

  “You’re not coming?” Harvey asked.

  “Yes. I suppose so. Or maybe we should just stay up here. I can’t stand these do's of Daddy's. He always wants to show me off like some kind of well-trained horse.”

  “He loves you, Sam. He’s proud of you,” Martha said.

  “No he’s not. He just pretends to other people that he is. If he were truly proud of me, he wouldn’t need to show me off.”

  Harvey hardly heard this last bit, as his mind was still focussed on what Sam had said a moment earlier—that they should stay up there. Together. Did that mean she actually liked him?

  “Harvey, are you up there?” Harvey heard his mother’s voice at the bottom of the stairs.

  He went over and looked down on his parents standing together.

  “I’m just coming down,” Harvey said.

  He went back for a minute, and said to Sam, “I suppose I’ll see you later on.”

  “Sure,” she said, but still didn’t move.

  That night, there was a round of speeches in the ballroom of the resort, which was now being populated mainly by Roland Chase’s friends, family, and business associates.

  The guests of honor were Terry Ascott and Regina Hartman, who were there to announce their still unofficial acceptance of The Corp’s buyout plans for Melbourne, the most coveted of Australia’s cities. Melbourne was known for being cool enough to spend time outdoors, except in the middle of summer, and well enough defended from its accompanying de-reg zone that it was unlikely to ever suffer a serious revolution. Not only that, but although Melbourne was not very profitable at the moment, with The Corp’s global resources, distribution and marketing channels, it could quite easily be made a lot more so.

  Roland was first up on stage, outlining his plans for what was to be done with Melbourne.

  “Economic rationalism is what we’re all about, folks. Government systems are no longer competitive in today’s global market, and we’re very glad that Australia is starting to realize that. No offense Terry and Regina, you’ve done your best given what is essentially an inefficient system—needing to keep the voters happy and all that—but we believe we can make things a lot better for everyone. All in all, we believe that a Corp-run state is a state run in the most efficient way possible. So, as we used to say back in Texas, 'Buckle up or drop your pants.'"

  That got some laughs.

  “No, in all earnestness, we believe that our motto, 'A Corp state is a happy state,' is as close as we can get to our real values. And in the world we’re living in today, where countries are starting to do whatever the hell they like and fucking things up for the rest of us, it’s the only responsible way forward for any government.”

  There was clapping all round. Then Terry and Regina and a whole lot of other people got up to reiterate basically the same thing Roland had said, which made everyone clap some more.

  That night, Harvey walked up onto the rooftop of the resort to a park that he had seen when they first arrived. It was there that Samantha had told him to meet her.

  She was waiting for him by the pool, which was lit from underneath. Numerous planter boxes supporting palms and ferns were spread throughout, making it look like a natural pond. Samantha was in the half-darkness, lying down on one of the wooden deck chairs.

  “Fancy a swim?” she said. There were towels on the chairs.

  “I didn’t bring my shorts.”

  “There’s nobody around. Let’s go naked.”

  Harvey looked around, unsure if being caught skinny-dipping in the resort pool with Roland Chase’s nineteen-year-old daughter was the best thing for his career prospects, but Samantha was already stripping her top off exposing a very plentiful amount of breast. Her tight pants and g-string panties were soon to follow.

  Even though Harvey thought of a thousand protests, he couldn’t get any of them out. All he could do was strip off as quickly as he could and dive into the water after Sam. If anyone came, they could hide between the planter boxes. From up above it would be har
d to tell they were naked under the planters anyway, unless Sam floated her boobs on the surface, of course, which she was just as likely to do. She seemed to want to taunt and punish her father for some reason. Maybe for ignoring her all her life. Or maybe for marrying a woman just a couple of years older than she was. Or maybe just because that’s what adolescent girls seemed to think was their right to do.

  Sam was swimming away from him backwards, looking at him and tempting him. It didn’t take him long to swim across to her. She kept moving back until she was against the far wall.

  “Come over here,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him into the shadows of one of the boxes.

  He followed and they started kissing for a few moments, until suddenly they heard a noise. Someone else had come over to the pool. Through palm fronds, they saw a couple standing by the water. Thankfully they hadn’t noticed the clothing strewn about, or at least they hadn’t said anything. When Sam started giggling, Harvey put a finger up to his mouth.

  They listened to the conversation for a couple of minutes, which was a minor marital dispute, and then the couple went back inside again.

  Harvey felt more frightened than he ever had before. He’d never actually had a girlfriend and he was pretty sure that Samantha had had plenty of boyfriends and knew exactly what she wanted. Which he probably wouldn’t be able to give her.

  “What’s wrong?” she said.

  “I really like you, Sam, but I don’t think we should be doing this. Not now, anyway.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just don’t think it’s right. I’d like to get to know you first.”