Suveron, Prologue, Part 2

Shock sparked across Draft's face as the realization of the message he had just received hit him: he was now just another statistic. LogosCorp was one of the prime forces in the field of digital intelligence, and it seemed, for all of Draft's intelligence in the oversight of the drafting of intelligence, neither he nor his digital assistant had seen this day coming. He was no longer needed, no longer useful. The autodoor to his workchamber whizzed open to reveal the metallic corporeal chassis of the 2 Sentizens he could only assume were there to escort him out of the building. Draft tried to conceal his expression, but it was too late. The red blinking lights on the cam system increased their blink rates as an indication that they had picked up a threat. The threat: Draft's emotional state.

Cornelius Vegura leaned back in his deskchair and continued to watch the live feed play out in 3 dimensions around his head. It was Draft's day to go, and it needed to be accomplished without incident. Vegura raised a single hand to cradle his chin, and then gazed at the figures before him displayed by the camera feed. He straightened up his posture, which rippled across his slender jumpsuit. AI Crime prediction had made massive strides in the previous decades to the current year of 2044, and this had not been achieved without the voices of some dissenters. The end result of the blowback from the predictive-crime policy's implementation had been, of course, to temper it with the use of real-time scanning for verification. Crime prediction was all part of a package of deals designed to safeguard the lives of everyone against those who were too unruly for the new world.

Draft, like many of his peers, had been subjected to far more rigorous scrutiny than the average prole. Intelligent individuals, if anti-establishment, represented the greatest threat to order that there could be, and so, everyone was screened from an early age. Those who were "gifted" were identified young, and given the proper Patriotic education just like everyone else. While some were easy to identify as future problems, due to having genetic proclivities towards rebellion, others took more time to pick up on. The rebellious smart ones were handled through manufactured life setbacks that would ultimately lead to their incarceration, as for the less rebellious, well, they were prime voluntary capital. The smart rebels who represented part of the prison systems just were not quite as productive as the compliant ones. Still, those individuals had their uses, and it would be a shame for their talents to go to waste. Vegura had no compunctions against this system, quite the contrary, it ensured that everything ran smoothly. Everything according to plan and in the interests of the bottom line.

Draft was one of 4 remaining workers for the company, and he had believed the words of his former employer who had told him he was irreplaceable. Anger, at having been betrayed, tried to creep its way onto his face, but he refrained from showing it, and knew what he needed to do to survive this encounter: complete compliance. "Michael Draft, your services at LogosCorp are no longer needed. We will provide ourselves to escort you out of the premises," the Sentizen on the left of Draft rattled off. In unison, the 2 bipedal machinations, walked over to either side of draft. "Alright," Draft said, with every hint of reluctance extinguished from his cadence. The camera lenses around the room were all focused on picking up the minute details in his expression. Draft and the machines then began their stroll out of the room.

Beep. The doors to the lift opened, indicating that Draft had reached the lobby of this deserted building. He glanced around the luxuriously adorned place, which was filled with the creations of the various machine intelligences which had been brought to life in 3D, thanks to the latest technological advancements. So much Holo-art, and so few holo-artists. Draft looked left to see his 2 coworkers likewise being ushered out of their respective lifts and towards the front of the lobby, where he now stood. They exchanged blank glances for a minute. Serenity Pathos and Jaime Renteria were people that Draft had seen on display at the corporate meetings from the screen, but never in person. Few people needed to meet in person at all, and for Draft, it seemed a bit surreal to have any kind of exchange with another human being. The great birth crisis had been remediated with the development of artificial human life creation, and most needs for socialization were accomplished with the aid of the digital. The virtual world was all Draft ever needed to feel good, well, that and maybe a few psychostimulants. Serenity was beautiful. It had been so long since he had seen another woman in person that it all seemed like a dream. He wondered if she would be just like the simulations. After what had happened to him today, he might need some time in the Zetaverse.

"Prepare for your debriefing cocktail," the Sentizen on the right of Draft proclaimed before raising a needle to Draft's arm and injecting him. Draft knew what this was for, and he had signed up for it as part of a condition of his employment contract. It was, essentially, a long-lasting tranquilizer. Draft had not wanted to sign up for this contract, but, employment was hard to come by in this day, and so people did whatever was necessary. He knew, in the back of his mind somewhere, he should be angry. Luckily, psychiatric drugs had solved all of those problems, and all he knew was peace. "No, I will not take this!" Serenity defiantly spoke. Draft looked over to see Serenity bolt out of the grasp of the Sentizens, who promptly exceeded her gait. She quickly fumbled trying to reach into her pockets on the way out the door, but was intercepted. "You will stick to the terms of your contract," one Sentizen coldly remarked. Serenity was apprehended and held in place by the Sentizens, and her dose was administered. Serenity's expression then mellowed, as her resistance slowly melted away. "Strange," Draft muttered, as he was escorted out of the lobby.