Twenty Sixty-Four

Chapter 3

'There are three stages to the therapy,' O’Neill said. 'There is learning. Then understanding. Finally, there is acceptance. It is time to start stage two.'

As always, Bradley was laid flat on his back, although his bonds were looser. They still held him to the bed, but he could move his knees a little and turn his head from side to side and raise his arms from the elbow. The control panel, also, had grown less fearsome. He could escape being shocked if quick-witted enough. Only when he showed stupidity did O’Neill twist the knob. Sometimes they got through a whole session without O’Neill touching it. He could not remember how many sessions it had been. The whole process felt stretched out over a long time—weeks, maybe—and the intervals between sessions were sometimes days, sometimes only an hour.

'As you lie there,' O’Neill said. 'You’ve wondered—I know because you’ve asked me—why HR is spending all this time and trouble on you. What not fire you and be done? When you were free you puzzled over this same question. You understand the workings of the Corporation you work in, but not its motives. Do you remember writing in your diary, "I understand how. I do not understand why"? You’ve read the book, Hillary’s book, or parts of it, at least. Did it tell you anything you did not know already?'

'You’ve read it?' Bradley asked.

'I wrote it. Or, I should say, I helped, along with the AIs, in writing it. No book is produced individually, as you know. Writing on your own, as you did? You understand this is another aspect of perversion.'

'Is it true, what the book says?'

'As a description, yes. But the remedy it proposes is garbage. The secret accumulation of knowledge—a gradual spread of enlightenment—ultimately a rebellion of all losers—then overthrow of the Corporate. You knew it would say that. Complete trash! The losers will never revolt, not in a thousand years or a million. They can’t. A neutered bull can’t reproduce. I don’t have to tell you the reason, you already know. If you ever cherished dreams of violent insurrection, abandon them. There’s no way the Corporate can be overthrown. The rule of the Corporate is forever. Make that the starting-point of your thoughts.'

He came closer. 'Forever!' he repeated. 'Now let’s get back to the question of "how" and "why". You understand the ways the Corporate maintains power. Now, why do we cling to power? What’s the motive? Why should we want power? Go on. You can speak,' he added as Bradley remained silent.

Nevertheless Bradley did not speak for another moment. A wariness overwhelmed him. The now familiar gleam had come back into O’Neill’s eyes. He knew in advance what O’Neill would say. That the Corporate did not seek power for its own ends, but only for the good of the majority. That it sought power because people on the whole were frail cowards who could not endure liberty or face the truth. They must be ruled and systematically deceived by the strong. The choice for mankind lay between freedom and happiness. For the great bulk of mankind, happiness was better. The corporate was the eternal guardian of the weak, a small cadre of winners shepherding the losers. The terrible thing, thought Bradley, was when O’Neill said this he believed it. You could see it in his face. O’Neill knew everything and was still a true believer. He knew, better than Bradley, what the world was really like, by what lies and barbarities the Corporate kept the mass of humanity degraded. He understood it all and it made no difference. It was all justified. What can you do, wondered Bradley, against a lunatic more intelligent than yourself?

'You are ruling over us for our own good,' Bradley said feebly. 'You believe that human beings are not fit to govern themselves, and therefore—'

He started and almost cried out. A pang of pain shot through him. O’Neill had twisted the control knob to thirty-five.