Story Teller - Chapter Four
The Echo Chamber Media headquarters building is a connected row of three buildings with a taller tower in the center. A big FU to the world. A video screen covering one side depicts a huge red boot that smashes down on the faces of the struggling multicolored masses below. The boot's laces are red, white, and blue, and are entwined with a cross. The outline of an elephant is stitched across the side of the upper part of the boot. It's an advertisement for the MACE political party. Text in the ad reads: We are the Multinational Authoritarian Corporate Elites — Submit or we will MACE you!
A moving banner of electronic text across the base of the entire complex reads: Ignorance is Power. Intelligence is Confusion. Compliance is safety.
Vanity's office and apartment occupy the entire top floor of the central tower. There’s gold plated filigree and red velvet fabric everywhere. She reclines in a bubble bath that overlooks the city at night. Her mindnet imposes a virtual overlay on top of the buildings as she imagines the destruction of her adversaries.
As virtual missiles strike individual buildings one at a time in a sequence, she says out loud, "That's you gone, and you gone, and you, and you. You see, Daddy, I am a winner after all."
In a tall condominium tower, Smugly sits in a rotating chair in the center of a well-appointed office. Little-known awards from the kookside, and pictures of himself receiving those awards, cover the walls. In the open spaces between the furniture in the room, his mindnet replays three-dimensional reenactments of the pathetic ceremonies.
As Smugly rotates the chair to take in all his accolades, he mumbles, "Yes. Thank you. You're right, I'm great." He lifts a wine flute to toast himself and takes a sip of red.
In his plush country estate, Senator Trator sits at a heavy wooden desk where he opens a briefcase filled with cash. A vase of flowers and a 'Thank You!' note sits next to it. Almost every surface in the room is covered with open briefcases stuffed with cash, and flower vases. Many of the flowers are long ago wilted.
He says to the new note on his desk, "You're welcome. Now, if you want to keep your foreign tax breaks, you will keep sending the cash and the flowers to me." He looks at the bouquet of bright yellow daises. "Cheapskates."
Within the flaming red letters atop Power Tower, Power manifests himself as a hologram of a huge gargoyle perched at the very top. He stands up and stretches his hands to the heavens. With a bright flash of light, a thunderbolt strikes him and sucks him into the dark cloud.
After a whiteout flash in their mindnets, Vanity, Smugly, and Trator appear as virtual avatars of themselves inside a huge courtroom. While their physical selves remain at home, their avatars sit in high chairs in a circle that overlooks a model of Home City in the center. A fourth chair, higher than the rest, remains empty. Above, a domed ceiling rises up and disappears into the night sky. Circling around the base of the dome is an inscription that reads: The Supreme Court of the Land — Dissent Shall be Prosecuted.
Fortunately for Vanity, their avatars are dressed in long black robes. She's startled by the sudden transition, but quickly recovers. She mindnets, 'Power! I've asked you, three times, to not do this without warning. I'm in the bath!'
Smugly's avatar fumbles his now-empty hand against his mouth. When he looks out to see where he is, he freezes. 'Oh, no.'
The senator shakes his head. 'Not this again.'
The empty fourth chair crackles with electricity as Power's avatar takes shape. Once he's fully there, he booms into their mindnets, 'This is an emergency that cannot wait.'
Vanity nets, 'You cannot go around imposing virtual realities into people's minds willy nilly. It's not decent.'
Power nods toward the inscription at the base of the dome. It detaches and floats down to encircle Vanity's head. She waves it away. 'Yes, yes, I get your point. Now, what is the emergency?'
The inscription vanishes from the air and reappears at the base of the dome. 'This team for the academy might put up a good fight. Do we have a strategy to beat them?'
Vanity rolls her eyes. 'Of course we do.'
Power rumbles, 'What is it?'
She points at the senator. 'We're going to cheat. Right Mister GameMaster?'
The senator uses both hands to smooth the front of his robes. 'Cheat is such an awkward word. It implies that there might be evidence of it later.'
Electricity crackles across Power. 'Evidence! Evidence? I remind you that we cannot tolerate outsiders on the ECM board of directors because of the evidence they may uncover. Evidence of suppressed facts, exaggerated heresy, offshore accounts, money laundering, and all the other outright collusion. You three alone represent the collusion of business, entertainment, and politics. It's your own skins that you should be concerned about.'
Smugly nets, 'I just say what they tell me to say!'
With contempt, Vanity nets, 'And you do it so well! Award winning puppetry.'
Smugly isn't sure if that's an insult or not. 'Thanks. I think.'
The senator asks, 'Have you and Homes finalized the design of the game yet? If we can understand their goals, then we can create the counter-narrative. Because the game is audience-scored, we just need to be ready to craft the frame.'
Power nets, 'She's holding back final approval to the last minute. A smart move. I'll let you know as soon as I have it.'
Smugly nets, 'And, that's cheating, right?'
Power glowers, 'Of course it is, you nitwit. But no worries, I promise you won't remember a thing about it once the game is over. None of you will. No memories, no crime.'
The senator sputters, 'But, but. The audience—'
'The audience won't remember a thing either. Trust me. I have a few surprises to deliver along the way, and a particularly nasty one if they survive to reach the final fight. Just be ready on my signal at the end.'
Vanity nets, 'Why are you so concerned about their team? Is there anything we need to know?'
'Kendra Wunder has a long history of snooping into situations where she has a special knack for intuiting the truth behind the facade. ECM will be severely compromised if she sits on the board.'
The senator nets, 'We won't let it get that far. There are ways I can keep a thumb on the playing field and keep it tilted in our, your, direction. It's what I do for you for my living, remember? Keep the playing field at a kilter toward the elite?'
Power glowers, 'And you have that position because we pay to get you there.'
Vanity nets, 'And both of you are in your positions because we disseminate your propaganda.'
And then Smugly chimes in with, 'And I'm the one who convincingly tells the audience that all their prejudices and beliefs are correct. That the right groups are hated, and the right billionaires are to be admired. So, if it wasn't for me, this would all come crashing down.'
All of the other three net, 'Shut up Smugly.'
He sits back in his chair and pouts.
The senator nets, 'Okay. We all have a common interest here. Our goal is to dominate the working class and keep them in their place. '
Power shakes his head. 'Your goal is to keep the right people in control. Me, and the people behind me. The multinational elites who are smart enough to keep things running. Which means optimizing me. I'm your goal. Do that, and the working class will stay oppressed by their own beliefs.'
Smugly tries again, 'Propaganda is an art form in itself. I look into the cameras, and tell people what they want to hear, all the while sending the message that obedience is safety. It's in MACE's motto for bloody hell.'
The senator nods. 'And we appreciate the charm, we do. But this is a four-way effort so all of us in the loop can live in luxury.'
Power nets, 'And if the truth of that were to ever get out, the whole thing does come crashing down. Which is why we cannot have guild members on the ECM board, especially a social justice warrior like Kendra Wunder.'
Vanity asks, 'I see your point about the board, but why are you so worried about Wunder in particular? Why does she have you spooked?'
'She's done some investigative reporting in the past that got very close to some embarrassing truths. She's very good at it. As a board member with access to the ECM internal database, and a member of the guild, she'd feel compelled to truth us out. The worst thing for us is that level of clarity in the public eye.'
The senator asks, 'Vanity? Smugly? Are you ready to do what it takes to win?'
Vanity nets, 'Obfuscation, misinformation, conspiracies, and lies. It's our stock in trade.'
Smugly nets, 'All delivered in a treacle of assurance. I think we know what to do.'
Power nets, 'Again, if it comes to it, I have a way to pop in a surprise at the end, just be ready on my signal. Now go.'
Vanity pops back into consciousness in her bathtub. She's slid down so low in the tub that the bubble-suds are in her face. She sputters as she thrashes them away. She sits up and ponders, "Okay Power, your signal at the end? A hundred to one that your puppet senator drops the ball."
Smugly reverts to sitting in his chair in his office. He quickly checks his social media summary score. No change. "Thank heavens that was all actually private." Looking down at his feet, he sees the wine flute on the floor. A red stain bleeds out into the carpet. "Damn, I just had that cleaned!"
The senator jolts back to his desk with the briefcase of cash in front of him. He picks up a bundle of bills and smells them, then looks around the room at all the other payments for favors. "Maybe ECM has outlived its usefulness anyway."
In his secret lair within a data haven on a lonely outpost in the middle of the ocean, Power chews through the calculations of all the possible outcomes. There's only one winning move. 'Kendra Wunder must die.'
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