"Lane," he paused as he reached for his comb. "Do you believe in doing the right thing?"
"The right thing, sir?"
"Yes, the right thing. Do you believe if a person knows what is right, that knowledge comes with a responsibility to act in accordance with that knowledge?"
"I'm not entirely sure what you mean sir."
"What I am saying, Lane, is if you were a doctor, and you discovered a cancerous tumor growing in your patient, would you now have an obligation to act in a certain way for the benefit of your patient?"
"Why yes, I think so, sir."
"And if the patient was ignorant of medicine and didn't believe in tumors, would you not still be left with the obligation to help the patient in any way you could to save a life?"
"Yes, I see what you mean sir."
Will nodded with approval. "Then you would agree, would you not, that knowledge brings with it a responsibility, a responsibility to act for the common good." I tried to think of how he would answer that question.
"Yes, it makes sense to me, sir."
"Of course it makes sense. If you know the cure to a disease and you fail to make use of that knowledge, you have failed to rise up to the calling and responsibility of knowledge. Worse than that, one who knows and does not act is more than a coward, that person is a disgrace, a disgrace to the honor of knowledge." I could see he was getting excited by the greasy beads of sweat forming along his brow.
"That's all TECHNOLITERALISM is about: having the courage to use information to do what's best. Of course it's not always easy to do the right thing. We know what's wrong with this society. A small percentage of the population will not obey the LAW OF THE MARKET. They can't see the invisible hand. They just can't see it. These...parasites, they think they can survive off the rest of us. They almost ruined the NATIONSTATES with their glorified, obscene dependency. If it were not for my father's foresight and generosity, they would have pulled us down into their abyss. Lane, I think you would like to help our cause but, I need to know if you have the courage to do the right thing. To do the right thing, can you do the right thing, Lane?" I felt my heart start to race. He didn't have a good look in his face right now. He was too excited for his own good. The doors opened and three of his bodyguards walked in. They were like human bulls, probably bred for protection.
"Lane, we are going out tonight. We're going out to do the right thing."
I knew this could only mean one thing. Will wanted to get me involved in some of what he liked to call PSC, "pro-social cruelty," and I really was not up to mayhem. I could put up with the luxevehicles, the stylish office, the synthetic suits, and all that. Shit, I love that stuff! I don't like to hurt people. I'm not a cruel dude. Don't get me wrong. I don't mind hurting someone if they are fucking with me; I'm just not into cruelty for its own sake. It's not because of my Episcocapitilist upbringing, it just goes against my chemistry to hurt others.
We drove down town in a gigantic white luxelimo covered with peace signs. The interior of the truck was cushioned with a high grade mammal skin of some sort. The seats were soft and spongy. This was gonna be a PSC night--I could just feel it. I swallowed two relaxants to calm my trembling hands. Down town was almost deserted. All I could see were the monitors on every corner blaring away MACROHARD BABBLE to an audience of no one. Occasionally we drove by small groups of people huddled around small fires. I was sitting in the back with the two big guys on either side of me. Both were loaded on endorphic visualizers (I could tell by the way they were shaking their heads back and forth). I tried to act friendly.
"SD and R, dudes!" I said enthusiastically (sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll).
"Hey, SD and R man," they said giving me the high-five.
Will was holding a small monitor attached to a pen shaped device. "Lane, take a look at this. This is a prototype of what will soon be the latest MACROHARD product. I'm going to call it THE FISCAL FITNESS FINDER. Just take a look, you point the wand at someone and you get an instant read-out of their financial status. It picks up a remote signal from the magnetic tape of the person's ID card. It's great isn't it? If you don't get a reading, it means they don't have a card. It will revolutionize the way we gather up illegals." He pointed it at people as we drove by and delighted himself with the wand's accuracy. Most of the poor denizens read out at ZERO-ZERO. This meant they didn't earn anything but they didn't cost the NATIONSTATES anything either. You wouldn't think the last depression was over by the numbers of ZERO-ZEROs we kept driving by. Face after unshaven face walking aimlessly along the sidewalk.
Will's monitor started beeping. "Yikes," he said excitedly. "Looks like we found us a TEN- PERCENTER!" I looked down at his monitor. The monitor said: Twenty-two year old female. Widow. Just got out of the hospital. Medical report said she was treated for shock following the accidental death of her husband. I looked out the window. She looked harmless enough: innocent, even.
"Take a look at this," Will turned to me. "This one's costing over three thousand credits...per day! Let's bring her in." The driver started to pull up behind her. In an instant all of the appeal of MACROHARD peeled away. I couldn't let this women be touched by this wicked, synthetic haired monster. My heart was seized by a moral vice grip.
"For Gods sake, that's my cousin Winny," I yelled out. "I haven't seen her in years. Stop the car." Trochanter looked at me as if I had just had a wet dream in his bed. I had to think quickly if I was going to help this girl. The car pulled up along the curb and I jumped out, slamming the sound proof door behind me. I ran up to the girl with my arms stretched out and walked alongside her.
"Listen, these guys are psycho'd out loonytooned in a major way. Take these credits and put them on your account, NOW. Pretend you know me. Wave bye-bye and walk briskly home."
"Who the hell are you?" she demanded.
"Never mind who I am. Today, I'm your guardian angel. Take this money and get out of here quick." She looked at the credits, and then up at me. Her eyes were soft. She just nodded, gave the slightest hint of a smile and walked off briskly.
I stood still, watching her as she turned the corner. My armpits were soaked with perspiration. My heart was pounding in my rib cage like a captured pigeon. This morality shit is fuckin' hard on my system. I grabbed for a tobacco tube as I walked back over to the limo. Will rolled open the window.
"That was your cousin?"
"Yeah, Jeez, I didn't know her finances had slipped. She has always been financially independ
"That's rough. Stay in touch with her Chrissakes." To him, she was just a little minnow to be thrown back in the water. He looked down at the financial fitness finder again, trolling the waters for fresh prey. I smiled at the SD n' R dudes sitting across from me. Their eyes were getting yellow and their skin was starchy from the endorphins. They couldn't care less.
I sucked hard on my tobacco tube while I looked out the window. This was the rough part of town alright. No vegetation to be seen. Will continued to stare at the FINANCIAL FITNESS FINDER and it started beeping at him.
"There, over there on the left," he said as a file was pulled up onto the screen. I looked over and saw an average looking dude in his early forties, clean shaven with a briefcase in hand. Probably walking home from work.
"Out of work for eight months," Will read out loud, "has been receiving social services since July of last year. 3000 credits a month! Jeez, what a free-loader." Will stopped reading and looked out the window.
"Looks like a regular guy, too. That really burns me up. Fucking hypocrite. At least he could stop pretending. What an asshole. Okay boys, this one's got to go." He signaled to the two beefies, who quickly became alert. They pulled up along the curb and the two jumped out of the car and walked up behind Joe Citizen from either side, scrunching him up between them like a bicyclist caught between two buses. They pulled him aside into an alleyway and slammed him against the walls. Will ran ahead and placed a large piece of plastic on the ground in front of them while they turned the poor fellow into a human battering ram, giving him a cement face massage over and over again. I stayed in the car and shrunk into my seat. There was nothing I could do for this poor bloke.
Where was his guardian angel? Will stood motionless in complete attention, he looked as if he were in a state of rapture, obviously savoring each bone cracking moment. I wanted to plug my ears, but couldn't.