[The City that Never Wakes] Wageslave

"It's all in your head, you know," Lisa says, after a lazy pause, her voice distant as she shuts her eyes. "Your circadian rythem tells you you should be sleepy now, even if you're not. Psychosomatic effects and all that." She trails off, and it's only after a pause that she adds, "You get used to it eventually though."
 
Ash shakes her head. "I'm sure it'll improve. But," she hesitates briefly, "I don't know how much you know about what I was doing at Renraku, but our team was one of the most closely monitored in the facility, performance-wise. I wasn't privy to all the metrics, but there is a measurably negative time-on-post effect on performance, even after you strip out the sleep cycle and circadian clock effects. With training and experience you can get it down to manageable levels - the best I've seen was about a dozen basis points per hour on-shift. But it never, ever goes away entirely."
 
"Wow," Lisa answers, a small snort escaping her, along with a hiss of breath. "So were you just born boring, or did you take special classes where they stripped out your ability to experience joy?" She reaches down with a hand to grab a bit of cloud, lifting it and putting it over her eyes like it was an actual ball of cotton to block out the sunlight. "Four more good hours a day. That's a 25% increase on the effective length of your life. And you're bitching that it's more like a 24.2% increase?"


She lets out a breath. "Sorry," she says, though Ash doubts it's quite sincere.
 
"I took a class," Ash says, deadpan, as she puts her hands behind her head. "It's called 'watching people die because someone fucked up and didn't have their backs.' Makes you appreciate the difference between 97.4 % and 100 when you step into the shoes of a guy who died from a three-sigma event."


A small pause, then "sorry." Her voice is exhausted, from more than just a long day. "I didn't mean to lecture. I really appreciate you taking time to do this, and it's not fair to take out my fatigue on you."
 
Lisa doesn't answer right away, but when she does, her tone isn't quite as lazy as it was before. While she's not exactly bright eyed and bushy tailed, she's clearly actually listening. "You know," she says, "your employee health plan covers therapy."


"I went," she adds. "It helped."
 
Ash closes her eyes and smiles contentedly, both at the idea and at the fact that having her eyes closed in no way prevents her from observing what goes on in the node. "I know. We had that in Renraku as well, at least in my department. And it really does help, no two ways about it."


She sits up. "But with supportive friends and a generally strong mental health, there's really only so much therapy can do. I'd absolutely recommend it to anyone who watches someone bite it. Sure pulled me through some bad spots. But at some point," she shrugs, "you just have to accept that you've reached the point where the time is better spent living your life than in therapy revisiting your past."


Ash spreads out her arms and tries to make a snow-angel in the cloud fluff. "I don't believe you ever completely get over watching people clock out, and I'm actually okay with that."
 
"Yeah, well... I'm not," Lisa says. There's a tightness in her tone as she does, though nothing too egregious. "But I sense you and I might deal with trauma differently."
 
Ash sits up, propping herself up on her elbows against the cloud. "Something you want to talk about, or should I drop the subject?"
 
"Not sure how much there is to say," Lisa replies. "Or maybe... I don't know. I guess I should be sympathetic? I was kind of hard to put up with when I was still recovering, and I was a right nasty bitch when I was a teenager. So I suppose I can't blame you for being a little sensitive."


She brushes the cloud off her eyes, glancing down at Ash. "But, you can say you've made peace with it all you like. You're clearly not over it. And it makes you kind of hard to put up with."
 
"Never claimed I was over it. 'Over it' is for bad acid trips and worse boyfriends."


Ash sits up now, and looks Lisa straight in the eye. "I realize I have been acting like a horrid bitch toward you. I could blame it on cultural insensitivity, or on my own issues, or whatever. But that's not an excuse. For what it's worth, I'm sorry. And I hope I haven't managed to totally burn that bridge."
 
Lisa doesn't seem quite sure how to deal with that. She doesn't seem inclined to jump up and give Ash a hug, that's for certain, but she also seems reluctant to throw Ash's apology back in her face. A polite, bland acceptance is her most obvious reply, but she doesn't do that either, instead just staring at Ash for what feels like a long time. "Fine." She says. "You want to talk about the elephant in the room then? Because I'm getting pretty tired of this passive-aggressive bit."
 
Ash runs a hand through her hair, using the excuse to break eye contact for a moment. "I'd like to stop dancing around the issue. If it's even an issue, singular. But we've clearly talked past each other - repeatedly - so I'd prefer to know what kind of talk you have in mind. The kind where we exchange perspectives, or the kind where we make a case? I'm open to either, but mixing the two tends to end... poorly."
 
"I can't say I really care about your perspective, Ash," Lisa answers, though her tone sounds more passively angry than actively aggressive. She's stating a fact—at least as she sees it—not trying to start a fight. "You're a luddite and a bigot, and if it was up to me, we'd have just watched as you flunked out."


She sits up, looking over Ash's way and meeting her eyes. "But, it's not up to me. So I'm here, and I'll teach you, and I'll do my level-best to make sure you're in the passing 40%. But sometimes it feels like pushing back the tide with a broom."
 
Ash raises an eyebrow. "This is where I'm supposed to say some soothing bullshit like 'I appreciate your candor.' But you know what? Fuck that. I've been called a lot of shit in my life, but 'Luddite' is hands down the funniest."


Ash's delivery is completely deadpan, but her persona's face remains locked in an expression somewhere between amused and incredulous. "That rig you're simming on right now? I have a comm that makes it look UCAS street legal by comparison where my fourth through seventh cervical vertebrae used to be. That was my signing bonus with Renraku. Who, I will note," Ash's tone loses some of its cadence and acquires a note of bitterness, "stated their cyberware requirements up front and made sure they were actually relevant to the job they were recruiting for, instead of just shoving experimental, military grade hardware into every recruit to walk through their door."


"So yeah," she finishes, her voice regaining its previous lightness, "whatever other issues I have, I am not possessed of any sentimental aversion to technology."
 
"Well it's nice to know that there's some cybernetics out there that don't disgust you," she replies, dry. "But you know, Ash? Actual luddies? They were rather fond of trains. Trains were wondrous inventions of modernity that gave them comfort, and easy access to markets, and the freedom to travel. Looms were unholy creations of the greedy, educated elite out to destroy their livelihood."


During the whole exchange, her tone still doesn't rise, refusing to answer to Ash's challenge. She keeps the same level, watching Ash as she speaks. "You don't have to hate all technology to be a luddite. You just have to fail to appreciate the difference between something you don't like and something that's inherently wrong. Virginia doesn't like headware. She doesn't like skillwires. But you know, she never looked at me like I was diseased."
 
"Lisa... I don't think you're diseased, and I don't look down on you for having made the choices you've made."


"But you know what? I'm a great believer in being honest, and my honest appraisal? Unless leonization treatments turn out to have truly horrid side effects somewhere down the line, there's no medical reason you or I couldn't live into the 23rd century. But on the trajectory you're on? If the twenty-first century dies before you do, I will consider it proof positive of the existence of a benevolent God. Hell, I'd not make book on you seeing your fortieth birthday from outside an intensive care unit at the rate you're going right now."


"It's your choice, of course. If you want to trade all that lifespan for a fifty-five hundred microsecond improvement in your reaction time, and a seventy-five per cent improvement in your data processing ability," Ash shrugs, "then that's your call, and I'm not going to look down my nose at you because of it. But I think you should consider that maybe - just maybe - it might bother me because I like you - passive-aggressive bullshit and everything - and think it would be a real crying shame if you didn't get to see the future too."
 
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Again, Lisa doesn't seem quite sure how to take that, and she considers Ash for a moment. When that moment is passed, she sits up a little straighter, and folds her hands in her lap. "You do, Ash. With your tattoos, and your attitude, and the way you talk about the company. You think you're right, and that that makes you better than me. But... sure. I'll play along. You're just concerned for my health. If that's the case, I gotta ask—what the hell are you doing with all that time you've got?"


Still, her tone never wavers. She doesn't shout or snarl—she doesn't even really sound angry. Just blunt, and flat. "Sitting there?" she asks, indicating Ash with a faint nod of her head. "Getting chewed out by an angry coworker? Trying to keep your eyes focused? Trying to fit thirty hours of work into a twenty-four hour day?" She snorts.


"I've been spending some quality time with my sister, while you were stuck here," she says, a window appearing in the air next to her, showing two people traveling together in what is clearly a VR game of some kind. "And working on my next book, when you were slow enough I could just let the skillchips and attention coprocessor take it. I got about 3000 words so far tonight."


She trails off at that, giving Ash a chance to respond.
 
"Point of order: It is possible for me to be right on matters of fact without believing that this makes me better than you. It is possible for me to value my own background and experiences without seeking to belittle yours." Ash's tone is level, but there is a definite hint of something sharp, precise, and unyielding in it.


"But for your question?" Ash shrugs. "I'm already on record calling bullshit on the entire ARAT program. I'm being paid reasonably well to give it an honest shot, so I will. But I'm not going to be in ARAT forever, and you can be damn sure I won't be clocking hundred hour weeks when I get out on the other side."
 
"It's possible," Lisa concedes. "But then you go and do things like that. Betray your old company, jump ship, and then call bullshit on how we do things. Think we're unprofessional. Cultists. Suckers. But no you. You see through all that indoctrination that's got the rest of us wrapped up. Makes you pure, does it? Better than."


She lets out a long breath, settling back. "You know, Ash? Hot sim may kill me? Will, probably. But I'd bet I'll do more with my life than you ever will. I write. I sing. I take care of my family. I've got a good job and I'm hoping for a great one. Friends who care about me. What have you got? A sim girlfriend and an employee file noting insubordinate behavior?"


She pauses. "That got a bit bitchier than I'd intended." Then. "Got away from me a bit."
 
"At what point have I called you a cultist or a sucker, Lisa?" Ash's voice is soft now, soft but not yielding. "Play that back for me, please, because I don't remember ever doing that."
 
"You call the skillwires a brand. Orientation is drinking the kool-aide. The arcology is the compound." She snorts. "Or is that peeking behind the mask?"
 
"The first two of those are severely decontextualized. But the third one? Yeah. The arcology is a compound. I am under house arrest for the duration of this program. Does being reminded that the Company occasionally locks up some of its employees hurts your sensibilities? Take it up with the people who locked the door behind me. Because I am not going to play along with any attempts to sugarcoat that fact with soothing newspeak."
 
"Well then, if we're done with all the sugarcoating." She lets out the ghost of a laugh—barely a breath. "The company doesn't lock up it's employees. Because you're not an employee. You're a traitor. The company knows precisely how much it would cost for somebody to buy your loyalty, because they bought it for 150kNY." She shakes her head. "Hell, you'd probably give the next guy a discount, seeing as how you hate working here so much."


She drums her fingers on the cloud, then sits forward. "And while we're on the topic, you're not trapped here. You can return your signing bonus and resign at any time. The only thing holding you here is the sweet smell of that big pile of money. Chains made of cold hard cash as it were." She smiles, but it only lasts a second, before she fades back to a neutral expression. "No one likes a wageslave with an attitude."
 
"And that's where you're wrong, Lisa. NeoNET didn't buy my loyalty, it bought my services. NeoNET offered more, so NeoNET now retains my services." Ash shrugs. "That's how the free market works. If Renraku had given me the credible impression that it would have engaged in good faith, then I would have offered them first refusal. But they did not, and so here we are."


"You want to know the difference between Renraku and NeoNET? When you strip off all the marketing, all the livery, all the face? When you boil it all down to its essential essence? There isn't one. They're both top-ten megacorps, which means they're both institutionalized expressions of high-functioning sociopathy." Ash makes an expansive gesture. "Renraku, NeoNET, Horizon, Aztechnology - same shit, different livery."


"But for some reason everybody here seems to think that oh no, NeoNET is special. NeoNET is something more and better than just another feudal throwback." She gives a hard little laugh. "There's a point where that kind of wide-eyed idealism stops being cute and starts being willfully naive. There ain't no paycheck in the world that's big enough to buy my respect, Lisa, and NeoNET has done precisely nothing to earn it."
 
Lisa stares at Ash, watching her for a long while. In reality, it's probably only a few seconds, but the time seems to stretch on in the conversational lull. She sits back, lifts her hand to her face, brushing her cheek and giving Ash an appraising look. Finally, she speaks. "Okay."


She gives a little half-shrug. "I think you're wrong, Ash. Point in fact, I think you're delusional. Free markets haven't been a thing since before you and I were born. And, what, think we're all the same? Aztechnology would bathe the world in fire just to watch it burn."


She trails off, but only briefly. "But you know what? I'm not going to argue. No point. I'm just being an ass because I'm tired and snippy. End of the day?" she shrugs. "You're failing. Your current course doesn't end with you passing the program. It doesn't end with you above the bottom 20%. But that's okay. You're working hard, so the company has no grounds to claim you intentionally flunked out. They'll fire you, but you'll keep the money. You can pocket it and go do cybersecurity for some job shop. Somewhere you can be the smartest person in the building and I'll never have to see you again. And then we both get what we want."
 
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