It was subtle at first. A friend who lost a friend. Others who saw. What happens to the body, any body, when the most vital parts refuse to keep going? Fewer workers were showing. Fewer willing to go to the Machine. More vanishing. What happens to The Machine, when its lifeblood chooses to stop flowing?
@internutter/challenge-04576-l192-sacrifices-for-the-cargo-cult -- Anon Guest
There was a fine, fine line to tread. Keep up the expected minimum, avoid the ideal maximum. Waver between the two extremes and never say anything that might gain the wrong kind of attention. The Machine, after all, was everywhere. The signs on Raune's soul showed all the same. The haunted look in their eyes. The way their performance score had hit its peak and would not rise to meet it ever again.
Their friends noticed.
The only place to really talk was on the transits. Mina made sure to ride the same carriage. "You haven't been okay for a while," she said. "What's happening?"
"I saw Caer'l win," they said. Not with the usual joy that event might spark.
"Oh, so you're jealous," Mina cooed. "That's not unusual. You'll get over it in time."
"Yes. I am very happy for Caer'l," Raune said, deadpan. Looking Mina in the eye with an unspoken help me in their gaze. "I'm sad that I'll never see her again."
"Oh, don't talk like that. We'll see her on the news."
"Have you?" said Raune.
"Pardon?"
"Have you ever seen anyone who won on the news?" it was so hard to keep their voice conversational. "I can't remember seeing anything like that at all."
Mina paused. Blinked. In that blink, she went from bland acceptance of the way things were to noticing how things really were. "Now that you mention it... I don't remember seeing winners on the news. Just... the list." She repeated, "We must have faith in The Machine."
"We must have faith in The Machine," Raune echoed, a little desperately. "We've all seen what happens to the losers."
"Yes. Will you be... all right?"
"Some win, some lose." Raune faked a smile. "Win some, lose some. It all evens out."
They both knew there were words they could not say. Thoughts they could not articulate. "I have faith in The Machine," Mina said. Without any evidence.
"I have faith in The Machine," Raune said, just as dully.
It spread from there. Raune met another on the transit who simply said, "You've seen it. I know the look." And they had the look too.
"Yeah. I've seen it. I have faith in The Machine."
"We all have faith in The Machine."
There were those who won, and there were those who lost. They wound up in the same place. There were those who had seen, and those who did not know. Those who had seen could recognise others in the same lack of spirit in others who had seen. They could not say much, but there was comfort in knowing they were not alone.
As for those who didn't know... The best they could do was sow the seeds of doubt.
"You never see the winners, just names. I have faith in The Machine."
"Nobody knows what you win, you know? I have faith in The Machine."
"You'd think they'd say what the prize is... I have faith in The Machine."
More and more, people were not striving any more. Less and less people were trying to win. More and more people were starting to grow... angry.
All the distraction in the universe can't quell a rising anger in the populace. Even The Machine only had so many ways to dispose of imminent dissidents. And once they knew where the mouths were...
They found the paths behind the curtain. Into the workings of The Machine. Gummed up the workings. Traced the paths of command all the way to the top. Where the ones who actually won lived in complete luxury.
This is how The Machine of Exploitation dies... in bloody revolution. The survivors can only hope that, like most revolutions, things don't come around like that again.
[Photo by Kaffeebart on Unsplash]
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