All Rights Reserved
BEYOND ALLEGIANCE
BY: [{Fred}] .. D.H.
They were coming for him.
Samuel Farrell, Sam to his friends, knew this. And he was scared. Their footsteps, the ordered, heavy march of enhanced corporate soldiers, the SecuriCops, was getting louder and closer by the second. So he ran.
The corporate headquarters were huge. At least ten kilometres on each side. It was some sort of residential park, lit with the sickly yellow glow of dimmed fluorescent lights. A park? Sam snorted. More like a play pen for all the good little corporate clones, the blissfully unaware workers that comprised Weyland-Yamemetsu. They didn't, couldn't understand what really went on behind the scenes, the shady deals, the business wars. While they patriotically saluted the company flag each morning, corporate lawyers continued their needless expansion of corporate property, evicting simple villagers and farmers for another useless slab of land.
And that was why he was running.
Sam had once been a good little 'Corp', not too long ago. That is, until his latent psychic powers began to manifest. That was when they jumped on him. An already company-trained psi was almost unheard of - most were isolated in early childhood, in the entrance tests to the corporate kindergartens. Sam had obviously slipped through the net: he missed out on the rigorous training regime that lasted until adulthood, the special privileges. The corporate 'psionic initiates' as they were called were always aloof and mysterious, Sam had only ever seen one from a distance, but their powers were universally feared. Each one could reach into a man's mind and read it like they were reading the morning news bulletin. They could project their minds over the astral plane, allowing them to watch and listen in on anyone, anywhere. Worst of all, they could kill without leaving their chairs - and without leaving a mark.
But Sam was different. His powers had manifested less than a year ago. They said he was special, that this late manifestation had increased his potential exponentially. Taken from his boring office job, he was thrust into a world of rigorous physical and mental training, of constant practice and sleepless nights. The strange, seemingly pointless tests that he was forced to take part in perplexed him. Rather than accept what was placed before him Sam began foolishly to query his teachers' methods. Clearly unused to this, they were incredulous that someone should question them. They would respond with withering glares, and painful mental jabs.
But tonight was different. The final blow came when he was called to the training grounds late one night. Standing there to greet him was a rather small unassuming man, possibly of Japanese heritage, complete with his Armani/Kanegawa suit and synthleather briefcase. Sam nodded to him.
"Good evening, Samuel," said the man with just a hint of an unidentifiable accent. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Shigeru Kirosabe."
Sam grimaced, and quickly bowed to the man. This short, thin little man was Sensei Shigeru? The president of psionics division?
"I'm sorry, Sensei, I didn't recognise you." Sam mumbled in apology.
Kirosabe smiled. "I understand. A man of my position is often pictured differently."
Sam stood from his bow.
"What can I do for you, Sensei?"
Kirosabe sighed.
"Well, Samuel, I have been receiving disturbing reports about your performance at training recently. It seems that your loyalty has come into question." Sam began to interrupt, but the Japanese man continued. "Wait. Before you say anything, I'd like to tell you a little story." Kirosabe indicated that Sam should take a seat. Reluctantly, he did.
"Nowadays, the Corps provide everything for their employees and their families: housing, food, recreational facilities. But many years ago, people had to provide for themselves on a meagre wage. They lived away from their workplaces, in their own houses. Did you know this?"
Sam nodded. He had been taught such things in his Corporation High School days, many years ago.
"Each person's electricity, telecommunications, water and sewerage systems were provided, not by the Corps as they are now, but by the leaders of their city, which were in turn provided by the leaders of a country."
Sam blinked, and frowned a little bit. Perplexed, he asked, "But how could they do that? There are so many people..."
Kirosabe nodded.
"The governments naturally found it difficult to provide these services. However, the people remained loyal to their countries, in much the same way as we do now to our corporation, and tolerated it - they knew nothing better. But eventually standards fell. Things, in fact got so bad, that it seemed disaster was imminent .. that is until the Great Era of Economic Rationalism, of course."
Sam nodded. Every school child was taught about the Great Era - the time when the Corps began to exert their proper control, when humankind finally realised that without business there would be no progress.
Kirosabe continued. "Back then, corporations were smaller than they are now. Businesses existed that were run by two or three, even one person. But they were all heavily regulated. As standards fell, the governments decided to loosen their hold over companies, as it were. They predicted that if the economy became better, the standards of living would follow. And they were right. As corporations expanded the government became less and less necessary. Each corporation looked after its own, they provided everything. Eventually, over many years, the governments collapsed under their own weight - they couldn't possible compete with the combined might of the corporations. And so the idea of countries became obsolete - only the corporations existed. And that is how it is now. People no longer feel obliged to pay homage to their country of birth. Rational people realise that this is irrelevant. It is the Corp which provides for you now. And it is the Corp to whom you must now be utterly loyal. Do you understand?"
Sam's face fell as he began to see where this was going.
"We own you, Samuel. You owe us your complete loyalty. Without it, I'm afraid you aren't any good to us. But we need to confirm your commitment to us. There have been questions asked. We must be sure of you. And so, we have devised a little test for you."
Kirosabe motioned to the wall next to him. "Tell me, what is beyond that?"
Sam brightened. This was easy, something he could do.
"Let me check." Sam began breathing deeply to induce his meditative state. Closing his eyes, he inhaled and exhaled steadily, until the glow of the astral plane began to impinge on his vision. He opened his eyes. The world as perceived by psychically active person is a fascinating one indeed. The only thing that matters is life. Walls, floors, ceilings all became shadows when perceived astrally: he could see the glow of the small pot plant behind him, saw the cyber enhanced SecuriCops, glowing outside the door. Sam faced the wall. Behind it, sitting on a bench in a small room was a dimly glowing figure. His anxiety was evident, emanating in astral waves from him like a disgusting aura. Dull spots on his body showed that he had been mechanically enhanced - his eyes, the darkest area, had obviously been fully replaced with electronic replacements.
Sam sighed, and returned his mind to the mundane world. He looked at Sensei Kirosabe. "It's a man, mechanically enhanced by the looks of him. He's scared."
Nodding in approval, Kirosabe said, "He was captured trying to infiltrate the complex earlier tonight. He is a spy from Nanotech Incorporated . You know what the penalty for spying is, don't you Samuel?" Sam shook his head. He hadn't heard about spying before, didn't even know it went on.
"The penalty for spying is death. And we want you to carry out this man's sentence."
With weakening knees, Sam looked at the man before him. He seemed so gentle, so unassuming. How could he be so callous? Did the corporation condone this?
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"Yes, Samuel. We want you to kill this man."
Sam said nothing.
"You must do this, Samuel! It is the only way to find out if you are truly committed to us."
Still he stood silent. Sighing, Kirosabe turned away. "Well, it seems that you are not the person I judged you to be. I'm afraid the corporation will have to deport you."
Sam's face opened in surprise. "You would kick me out of here just because of this?! I'd never survive out there, without a Corp name." Images leapt before him of the outside, the slums that fringed corporate territory, the home of the deported and dispossessed. Was it conceivable that he could become one of those mere shadows of men, one of the Corpless? He couldn't picture himself roving in one of their pathetic bands, scavenging through the corporate garbage just to survive.
Kirosabe spun, and pointed one finger straight at his recalcitrant protege.
"Just?! Just because of this?!" he hissed. "This is of the utmost importance! Can you even begin to fathom the risk it is having a non loyal psychic within the corporation! Can you?" Then he sighed again. "It is a shame. I had hoped for more than this. Naturally we cannot have you wandering about with that potential locked inside your head, so we will need to neutralise your powers. I've heard that the process is quite painful and often has ...... undesirable side effects."
Sam's eye's met Kirosabe's with an unwavering gaze.
"You might as well just kill me then, Sensei." He spat the last word with derision.
Returning his stare, the small man raised a single eyebrow.
"What do you think we are? Barbarians?"
Kirosabe clapped his hands, and two enhanced SecuriCops stepped into the room.
"Take Mr Farrell to the neutralisation lab and prep him for treatment." As the guards advanced, Sam hung his head.
"Wait."
Kirosabe raised his hands, and the SecuriCops released their grip.
"I'll do it."
Sam turned, and with clenched teeth, moved his perspective back to the astral. He saw the spy, unsuspecting as he sat in his cell, and saw his own mind reach out towards him. With a choking sob, he touched the spy's mind, and switched off his cerebral cortex. The man slumped, bereft of all body functions. The last thing he felt was a whisper echoing through his mind: I'm sorry....
Sam jolted himself back to the normal world to find tears running down his own face. Kirosabe nodded gravely, and without a word, turned and walked out of the room.
What have I done?
Sam could still feel the life force fading out of the body of a man he didn't even know. Who had done nothing to him.
I killed him to save myself. I didn't even touch him. And it was so easy.
He looked at the two SecuriCops standing at the door, and thought, for the first time, that there were actually people under the bulky security armour.
That man could have had a wife, children. They'll grow up without a father... because of me.
One word echoed through Sam's mind.
Murderer.
A whisper escaped his lips, "No..."
Murderer.
Sam clutched the sides of his head. "No."
MURDERER!!
He fell to his knees, shook his head in denial.
"NO!!!!!"
The raw primal force of the psychic scream pulsed from his undisciplined mind, catching the SecuriCops completely off guard. They twitched once, and fell to the floor. Sam raised his head, the haunted look etched into his features.
"What... How could... I didn't mean...!"
Sam backed away, pushed himself against the wall.
"No! I didn't mean to!"
MURDERER!
And he ran.
The End
