..................................................................................................................................................Feedback shook the prescription bottle until it rewarded his palm three pink pills emitting a bright neon glow, indicating that they were prime for ingestion. He tossed them in his mouth, pushed a button on the small bathroom sink that would charge him $$1 for five seconds of water usage, and put his face under the faucet. The pills washed down almost immediately and he savored the remaining seconds of hydration. The tap water these days was more chemical additive than water itself but what choice did he have? A few years prior, stealing purified water from the nutrition store or simply paying with a counterfeit card at the water bar was a means to an end for many citizens, but federal authorities put an end to it after passing an ordinance that made Immediate Death Sentences (IDS) mandatory for anyone suspected of water larceny. Feedback himself witnessed many friendly faces get completely obliterated off of their heads in the middle of the street by government sanctioned Law Automatons. But, for once, Feedback wasn’t preoccupied with that.................................... He watched in the bathroom mirror as his peripheral vision blurred and the lights from the street became vivid in his studio apartment. In a matter of moments, a chill crept up his spine and his muscles relaxed drastically, nearly sending him onto the tile floor before he caught himself on the sink. Hand on the wall, he stumbled toward the window and watched the world shake. He focused his eyes on the crowded street like a tired bloodhound. A veiled woman clutching a bag of nutritional liquid to her chest hurried past a man waving a bright digital sign to attract customers to a one-pole strip bar. A Law Automaton stood near a cramped alley spinning its electric baton, eyes scanning from side to side, searching for a martyr of liberation. Feedback looked up to the shrouded sky of dark fog and electronic force-field with the occasional vehicle flickering light in and out while it zoomed toward its destination........ He fell back directly onto the bed and watched the ceiling like a firework show. The drugs had taken their full effect by now — all of his sight morphing and spiraling, colors coming and going and changing and expanding and brightening and dimming. From head to toe his muscles felt loose and relaxed, so much so that he had to wiggle his toes or clench his fist every few moments to make sure the entirety of his body wasn’t completely numb. Nothing calmed one down and blocked out the overwhelming reality of the world like Herodrine...... Feedback awoke to the calming sound of a woman’s voice coming from the screen mounted on the far wall, the same screen installed in every home in New Detail. He sat up and looked at the time to the left of the woman and hurriedly hopped out of bed. He looked toward the top right corner of the screen and blinked twice to turn it off........................ His worker’s jumpsuit was hanging from the towel rack next to the closet-sized shower. He threw it on quickly and pushed the button on his chest for it to shrink and match his form. He moved to the fridge, selected a government approved liquid breakfast for $$3, and downed it all in one swift movement before sprinting down to the street four stories below. Without a second the spare he made it into the labor transportation venue and swiped his card to enter a carrier cube. Inside of the cube, a mechanism connected his arms, legs, waist, and neck to a wall and shot him into the Burger Barn sponsored underground transportation tube system.......................................................... A small screen appeared on the wall five inches from his face. An attractive, dark-haired woman dressed in a modest gray suit smiled back at him. Behind her played low fidelity video clips of horses galloping, people playing on beaches, men and women embracing each other with a smile, cowboys with their hands on their belts, and children lying in lush fields of green. The clips were played in slow motion and fuzzed and shook like they were shot on antiquated film.......... “Realistic high-resolution low-fidelity VHS tape-fuzz video filter now available in your Mind Phone’s VR App Store app for only $$5,” the woman said. The screen went blank. He blinked a few times and anxiously awaited the next transmission like a dog begging at the dinner table. After a few moments, a news broadcast appeared. The red and black logo of the company he worked for spun slowly behind a middle-aged man sitting at a desk....................... “Power manufacturer and research processor Zensoft have announced that recent studies indicate New Detail harbors some of the happiest people in all of the living syndicates. According to data provided by Zensoft, most New Detailians consider themselves content with the status of their lives and the progressive political direction of the United Global Micro-Nations. We’ll be back after a message from our sponsor.” An advertisement depicting the logo of Mammoth Tech — the largest global aerospace technology and defensive weapons manufacturer on the planet — appeared on the screen accompanied by an upbeat pop instrumental. A rainbow flag faded into the background............................. Blurred buildings flew past Feedback’s window until the carrier cube swiftly stopped moving. A high pitched beep emitted from the loudspeakers above Feedback and he was freed onto the street in front of the immense Zensoft building. He sprinted to the elevator and was brought to the eleventh floor where he made his way toward one of the seemingly infinite amount of work booths. While typing in his clock-in number, a familiar voice of low register came from behind him....................................... “This is the second time this month you’ve been late.” Feedback promptly recognized it as one of Zensoft’s Behavioral Officers. “If it happens again, I’ll be reporting you to the Disciplinary Committee.” ............................................. Feedback turned around and nodded his head apologetically. “It won’t happen again, sir,” he said. ........................ The Officer stood silent, took a longer look at Feedback, and then walked away. Feedback continued logging in and entered the booth before sitting down between its tight porcelain walls. The interior of the booths themselves resembled the inside of an old-time, gasoline powered car (as far as Feedback could tell after having seen some in military-funded war films). The only real difference he noticed was that in place of a windshield was a large, curved screen. The screen displayed a spinning circle while it loaded up until the digitized voice of a woman with an English accent said “Hello, Worker Nine One Three Nine Four.”..................................................................................................................................................... “Hello” ................... “Loading,” said the woman. A clip of instrumental smooth jazz faded into the speakers. Feedback looked around the tiny booth as he waited. He thought of the many years he must have spent by now just sitting in these booths. He thought of how inconsequentially small the amount of time a second is and how brutally long a year is in comparison. The music stopped and the booth was filled with silence. A few moments later, the woman’s voice came back, now at a booming volume. ..................... “Connect your brain to the Nightmare Machine.” ............................. A latch opened on the ceiling above Feedback and out came a helmet connected to a mechanical arm. Feedback lowered the helmet onto his head and over his eyes until he saw and heard nothing, as the helmet was designed to block out absolutely all outside light and sound. .......... “Welcome,” said the woman’s voice, now coming from inside the helmet. Almost immediately, Feedback was bombarded with images, videos, and smells that changed in correlation with one another every half-second or so. .............. First came images of war. He watched people from historic times in the former Vietnam be blown to pieces by American teenagers and witnessed children affected by chemicals of war be born and live their short lives with extreme malformations. Footage of Spanish imperialists cutting off the hands of natives was sent into his brain at an alarming speed. He watched Gaza be bombed to rubble. He witnessed the executions of Nicola Sacco and Bartolomeo Vanzetti. The KKK burning crosses. The CIA supported coup against Allende and the subsequent rise of Pilochet. Children with their appendages blown to bits being carried by loved ones. He watched every Bravo reality TV show in their entirety in a matter of milliseconds. ....................... Before any time seemed to pass at all, a low tone beep sounded and signaled the end of his shift. ................... “Please disconnect from the Machine.” .................. Feedback removed his helmet and in came the familiar ear ringing. The ringing he was used to but the persistent headache was another story. Nothing a bit of Herodrine couldn’t fix. Had eight hours already gone by? It must have been an easy transmission. Not like the days where the Machine seemed to be testing out the physical sensation beta and it felt like he was truly living the police body cam footage he was subjected to for a majority of his shift. “Not so bad,” he said. ............. “I’m sorry… I didn’t get that,” the voice of the Machine said happily. “Clocking out,” he said loudly, so it could hear him. ....... “I’m sorry… I didn’t get that. Let’s try another–” “Clock out,” he said, louder. .............. “Sorry, let’s try something else. Do you have your ID code?” “Nine One Three Nine Four.” ...................... “OK. Nine One Three Nine Five. Is that right?” “No – Nine One Three Nine Four.” “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Let me connect you to a representative.” ...................... Feedback sighed. The ear ringing persisted..................................................................................................................................................................
COMPLAINT DEPARTMENT