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each level up you get more responsibility and more creature
comforts-privileges, a bigger apartment, that kind of thing."
"Yes, that is so."
"And what about the fellow whose function is to mow the lawn or wash the
dishes?"
"The same. There are the same number of levels for each function, and the
privileges are the same for each level."
"Interesting. And what about social life? Families, babies, that kind of
thing?"
"Eggs and sperm are taken and classified and stored," she said
matter-of-factly.
"Then when particular functions are required the adjustment is made
genetically, there is a match, and a child is produced. We do not have
families, and we, ourselves, are sterile. Families are irrelevant in a proper
society."
"What about sex?"
"If you would like it, I will provide it. It is a proper way of flushing the
animal urges from the system."
"No, no!" I was startled. By god, she would do it and right here if I asked
her!
"Just curious. But you have no jealousy, no theft, no crimes of passion?" Even
Marx, if memory served, said we'd never get rid of crimes of passion.
"One owns nothing so there can be no theft. All at the same level have the
same things. One attains them by perfection in mind, body, and function.
Exclusivity in cohabitation or relations is forbidden. In any event, jealousy
implies the ownership of another, and we find that repulsive."
"And nobody ever beats the system, or tries to?"
"It is impossible," she replied, not ruefully, just matter-of-fact. "We must
regularly go and account for all of our actions, our thoughts, our deeds, in
the
Confessional. When we are born we are born with a dependency, and the
substance one must take is unique to the individual. The Confessor alone
controls what we require. We meet regularly with our Confessor and we also
attend self-criticism sessions. It is impossible to hold anything back without
anyone knowing that you do, and if you do you do not get what you need to
survive. There is no way around it-the pain is too great. No one can withstand
it, so no one holds back when absolute confession can end it. After a while
you understand that any urges against the system are crimes against society
and you purge yourself completely of such things. Until one thinks only
correct thoughts without deviation one can not be a whole member of society."
Holy shit! I thought. Now there's the perfect totalitarianism. Drug-dependent
slavery for an entire civilization! Not even the worst of our society could
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have dreamed of such absolute control.
"How often do you need this stuff?" I asked her. "And, more important, when's
the next time?"
"I must report within five days," she told me. "They always decide the
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he%20Mirror.txt (58 of 150) [1/19/03 4:21:15 PM]
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20-%20The%20Maze%20in%20the%20Mirror.txt interval."
"To whom and how?"
"I am not permitted to tell you that. However, I should tell you that I have
been modified so that a certain pain threshold will kill me before I can tell
anything."
Yeah, I thought sourly. And even if you grew real fond of me you 'd still kill
me in an instant for your fix if so ordered. They weren't taking any chances
on any kind of bond forming that would get in the way of her orders. But aloud
I
said, "Well, look sharp. We've learned all we can here for now. You are
armed?"
"Yes. I am trained as a bodyguard among other things. I am well versed in
every means of defensive combat. Why do you ask?"
"Because we're going to be going to some pretty rough worlds, I suspect, and
meet some even rougher people, and I don't want anybody putting a slug in me
or pinching my nerves or giving me a needle."
"My primary function is to see that you carry out yours. Do not worry."
Worry was one thing I had plenty of, though.
"All right, look sharp. I'm sure I haven't noticed anything here they didn't
already know, but you never can be sure about a pre-emptive strike. I've been
ambushed in the Labyrinth before, and part of my head had to be regrown. I
don't want to have to go through that again."
"Where are we going?"
"You are gonna use whatever communications you have and find out where they
suggest we go for an office, and then we're going there, and then I'll have a
whole shopping list of stuff to get and a lot of work to do to feel safe
there.
By the time we're done with that, Voorhes or whoever should have our suspect
list and just exactly what I need. C'mon, Amazon Princess. We got work to do."
Having a Girl Friday plugged into the rebel system was handy from my point of
view, I admit, in that all I had to do was ask for something or complain about
something and she saw that something was done about it. A combination
secretary and bodyguard was a very handy accessory for any private eye. Only
trouble was, she was not just my assistant but my jailer, too, making sure I
didn't try anything funny or sneak funny messages back or in any way bypass
this underground system they had. And with that nice little drug variation and
her
"confessional," we not only weren't about to get too close, but I had the
uneasy feeling that, should I solve this thing or should they tire of me, her
last job in this assignment was to polish me off no matter what.
It made for a less than cozy arrangement. Still, if I did solve the damned
thing, I would be the one to pick the time and place to tell her and anyone
else about it-and no matter how competent she was, I was pretty damned sure
she wasn't immortal. Well, I'd have to cross that bridge later. It remained to
be seen whether I could in fact help them. It was sure and certain that no
matter what else happened their patience with me would be limited. I didn't
know what kind of clock was running, but there certainly was one.
In another curious way, it freed me. I didn't have to worry about whether or
not
I should ask such-and-so a question, or if it was safe for me to find out this
or that. Knowing it didn't matter, and knowing that they knew, too, and knew
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that I knew-if that makes sense-gave me a certain uninhibited detachment.
The place they found for me was another of those old, abandoned switching
rooms, and it was fairly comfortable if a bit cozy. This one had only one
large room and most of the furnishings had been cleared out long ago, giving
it the look of an abandoned floor in some office building where once they had
a bank or a lot of cubicles. The thing was set on automatic to open for me and
Maria; neither one of us could trigger it alone, although if one of us were
inside the other could come and go. I quickly discovered that the other one
was just Maria; I
wasn't allowed out alone, and if she was out then I was stuck inside.
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