“There is nowhere I feel free, my friend,

My home, my heart, in my misery;

In the end, I don’t need an audience,

Just a patch of land to bury my sins;

And when the piper calls out my name,

I hope it’s you carrying my fame;

My life’s journey from the whimper to bang,

With you by my side, that’s an elaborate plan.”

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“Forever enticing, Jimi has no time for the girls today as he kept his gaze off them while minding his business. Jimi was running late, and it pissed him off to know that his roomies decided to take off without him and may already be at the Colossean. He does not want to be the only one that the cameras capture sneaking in. “Be a part of the herd, don’t draw attention,” was one of his rules of surviving his employment.

As he brushes his teeth and tries to get into his uniform simultaneously, he quickly glances at himself in the mirror. The dark, curly, shoulder-length hair, almond-colored eyes, snub nose, a chiseled jawline with a growing stubble suits him. At 6 feet with an ectomorphic body and a boy next door charm, he is a prime catch for the girls. Except, he hasn’t met one in the last ten years, and he is already 18.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“The train’s horn breaks his stupor. It surfaces from the tunnels for a short while, as it passes by a rundown factory with aging metal enclosures, rickety rusted stairs, muck stained floors, and shattered glass windows; a graveyard for old equipment that went purposeless five decades ago. These abandoned structures are everywhere, reminiscent of the old days. Long ago, the factories accommodated equipment and people for mass-producing products – airplanes, refrigerators, kitchen tables, etc.

Nothing new has been produced in a while, at least not on a large scale. The natural resources have dwindled to a point where whatever is left, is owned by ARCA and kept heavily guarded. This situation didn’t happen overnight. The combined effect of increasing population, climate change, and ultimately the pandemic whittled down the supplies to a point where corporations stepped in to secure them for the future and stop the frequent war mongering.  

The large production houses of the new world served just one master, ARCA. The daily essentials like food and clothing were no more a priority for them.”

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“The 3d banner ads are gesture driven. They linger long enough, enticing the potential candidate to join the group. The back-end algorithm customizes the experience based on a user’s learning history. An interested candidate must only point his finger in the image’s relative direction, which brings up the button calling out “Join now.”

Bobby is amazed at the paradox. The world on the surface is stuck in the time bubble, whereas the sub-terrain world is technologically advanced. Bobby’s mind cannot fathom why but the stark contrast seems intentional.”

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“He finds this entire charade a ruse to divert his thoughts from the reality of a 90 -hr workweek, miserable food, decrepit buildings for living quarters, and zero rights.

“Nothing but a dramatized show on a future that did not exist.”

“There is no heaven on this earth. We are born in hell, live in it, and are then flushed down the sh**hole.”

“Not for long, though.” Jas’s inner voice speaks to him as he continues to smile. Except that the smile is now more like a smirk, a smirk of discontentment.

Unknown to Jas, someone else is also listening to his thoughts at this exact moment. Wahi is in front of his console, studying Jas’s vital signs, getting increasingly concerned with the spike in his cardiovascular, electrodermal, and respiratory readings. What worries him further is that this is the 10th time this week when Jas has elevated vitals in a situation where an average joe’s reaction would be completely different. In comparison, Mr. average’s vitals would spike only one or two times within the same period.

Jas’s reports indicated a high risk for malice and destruction, and his break-point, likely this month. Wahi knows too well to trust the projections blindly.”

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“Team room E.08.123 is as bland as any other room on the floor. It stands at the far end of the bay, right opposite the washrooms. The entrance is access controlled, and the glass walls, which demarcate the enclosure from its neighboring room, are frosted. The exterior windows look out to the Amazon rainforest. It will eventually change to the Isle of Skye and the Taj Mahal and back to the rainforest every 3 hours.

There are 15 workstations spread out systematically, all facing a green screen. They have the same impersonal look and are equipped with standard accessories– a stand/sit desk with the IM^[1] console, a convertible treadmill/pedaller/chair, headband, and a virtual pet.

“Searching for exoplanets is another futile attempt to invalidate our reality and prove that there is more to this life,” Jimi thinks to himself as he slides into his chair, draping the headband over his ears and propping his arms above his head.”

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“Rage was Raul Berlusconi, a sociable child with wide eyes and a conservative upbringing in his earlier life. When he first arrived here, a senior asked him about his hobbies. He innocuously brought up his training in western classical music. Raul became an overnight star as every senior at Aerono wanted his solo performance of bel canto. It was all fun until Randy, and his gang discovered Raul.

Randy was a repeat offender known for his prison-style of ragging. Rumor has it that Raul was locked in a wooden chest every night in Randy’s room and made to sing lullabies, sometimes throughout the night.

As time passed and other newcomers cleared the pledge and were excused from ragging, Raul continued his nightly in-the-box performance for Randy.  He started spending his nights in the Colossean until his team lead reported him to the RM team for tardiness. Before Raul could be purged, he disappeared entirely. No-one knew his whereabouts, including the RM team, which had never lost an employee before.

 Eventually, someone snitched on Randy to the RM team, and Randy and his accomplices were purged for their misdemeanors. Raul finally surfaced and returned to Aerono as “Rage,” and not just took over his tormentor’s role; he redefined the definition of ragging.

Tonight, Rage is feeling especially good. He had been planning this event for a couple of weeks now.

“You are all here for a purpose,” Rage addresses the ragtag group as he strolls down the first file. He stops near the runt of the group and looks him square in the eye.

“What is your purpose?”.

“I…I…”, Oli stammers in fear.

“Did you hear what he said,” Rage dramatically turns to the next boy in line; the boy nods left to right.

Rage swiftly turns back to Oli and yells again.

“LOUDER!! HE CAN’T HEAR YOU B**CH”.

“A... a... hh, complete my work-life and retire.” Oli starts to shrivel up.

“DO YOU ALL AGREE?”, Rage continues his rant. Some nod in agreement, others unsure of the answer, continue to bow their heads, hoping to avoid confrontation.

Holding him by the neck, Rage drags Oli out of the line. Oli’s collapses on his knees in fear.

“YOU ARE ALL HERE TO SERVE ME, YOU LAZY ASS M**** F**KERS. THAT IS YOUR PURPOSE” Rage thunders, his kohl-lined eyes light up like a mad man’s.

He pauses dramatically for the fear to sink in as palpitating anxiety grips the group.

“How many of you have flown before?”