The War In His Mind

Chapter 3

The scene from atop the corporate headquarters was like almost every other building in Downtown. It was much taller than the rest, yet 937 could not find the words to discern it from the others. He continued to file papers, one after another, like he had been doing for the last six months. Everything was the same, just as it had always been. He felt no joy, or sadness, or any emotion. He wasn't even sure what emotions were. He remembered coming across that word in one of the documents, and wondered about it for a moment. He quickly dismissed it as a delusion of the mind. They must not be important if he didn't have them. He was always given the tools that he needed. Nothing more, nothing less.

As he finished up his reports for the day, an airship floated by his window. He didn't know why, but he always felt compelled to watch them go through the city. He never thought much of it, but felt a carnal instinct to closely examine them every time that he could. Every airship was exactly the same. A giant propeller in the back, highly ornate balloon on top of it covered in gold and diamond, and a picture of the great leader of the city. It didn't matter. 937 observed then as if each was truly unique. He couldn't stop himself. It was an impulse.

He watched it float into uptown, which was directly above the downtown district, separated only by two layers of explosive proof flooring. He remembered that one of his documents was a map. He pulled it back out, and traced the route that the airship must have taken. It was only the third time that he'd ever seen a map of the entire city. It was a single structure, with the districts separated by explosive metal sheets, soundproof walls, and various lighting techniques. There were four unique districts, he noted to himself. Downtown was by far the largest. It was a massive underground space for skyscrapers, court houses, and prisons. His employer, the O'Neil Corporation, had the biggest skyscraper of them all. The same man who ran the government also owned the corporation.

With his finger, 937 trace the path the airship took to uptown. Uptown was a suburban district full of small shops and cafés. Next to the wonder monument was a station that hosted both airships and trains. It was the great entryway into Uptown. 

937 didn't have any distinct memories of being there, but felt as if though the inside was covered with red and blue ceiling tiles. There wasn't evidence to support this, yet he accepted it as so.

Uptown was a place that he rarely went, it made sense to him that he couldn't recall all the details about it.

The rest of the city was a mystery to him. Above uptown was a large tower, with an apartment complex, and floating shops above that. On the map they called it "Wonder Heights." 937 was lucky enough to live inside the corporation's headquarters. He rarely ever went out. Everything he needed was inside the building. Because the city was underground and completely indoors, there was hardly any reason to ever go out and adventure. He knew what was there. It was nothing that mattered to him. When it was time for a meeting, he would go to the meeting room and sit quietly. If he ever felt tired, there was a room towards the top of the tower where he could sleep for a few hours until was time to work again. Even though he was always on call, the Corporation would let him rest for a couple of hours if his body were to demand it.

He knew that that time was coming soon. He could feel his eyes drooping, and when he looked at his reflection in the mirror on his desk, he could see red veins gradually taking over the whites of his eyes.

His supervisor, though hesitant to let them off the job, told him to go rest. 937 packed up his work desk and headed up the stairs to where the resting quarters were. Step by step, he grew wearier. He was eagerly looking forward to getting rest. He didn't notice something strange at the top of the stairs until it was too late. One of the metallic steps was vibrating rather rapidly. Thinking nothing of it, he stepped on it. A sharp jolt went up his leg, through his chest, and up into his head. He felt dizzy and disoriented, and for a moment, thought he was going to throw up. The world spun around him in rapid succession. He collapsed to the ground. His breathing accelerated. His heart rate was so quick that he couldn't tell if he was having a heart attack or dying. He screamed, begging for help.

No one came. No one cared.

Just as quick as it happened, it stopped. He felt fine. His heart rate, breath, and stomach all returned to normal. Yet something was not the same. He felt different. Uneasiness descended upon him like fog on a cold beach. He began to shiver. Though the room was a steady eighty degrees, he felt cold.

He turned back towards the staircase, wondering what happened to him. The stair was normal. It was not vibrating.

He looked directly in front of him at a window. Outside of that window, he could see the entire downtown district. It was both bleak and beautiful all at once. Though the walls and ceiling of the city were completely dark and barren, the buildings inside of them were lit up bright. Ornate colors and light schemes danced around the structures. He recognized the architectural style of the early 20th century. Visions of New York City and Chicago and Paris all came to mind. He couldn't remember what happened to any of those great locations, all he knew was that this city, Wonder City, seemed to be the only place that actually existed.

He dreamed in that moment about life, and love. The warmth of sunshine on his face, and the refreshing cool fall air. He imagined the entire city covered in snow, and felt sad when he realized that it would never happen. There would never be sleigh rides, or snow hills, or anything else to bring joy to the people. Though elegant and beautiful, the city was a cesspool of duality.

937 looked back towards the beds. They were beautiful, covered in velvet red blankets, and thick plush pillows. Yet he did not want to lay on them. As tired as he was, his desire to explore the city and find adventure was far stronger than the urge to sleep. Though it wasn't that simple. Everything in the Corporation place ran on a schedule. Everything was systematic. He was given four hours to sleep, but knew that because no one would suspect him of fraud, he could clock in his sleep hours and go explore the city undetected. If no one was unique, why would anybody suspect an individual of breaking the system? Everyone was compelled to obey the system. There was no need for checks and balances. The security guards and cops in the cities were just a formality. A facade of real civilization. They existed, but worked in an endless cycle where almost no adventure happened. It was a paradox, 937 thought. A lie given to keep the people occupied.

What role does security have in a world that is perfect? 937 thought back to the event at the Café. He remembered the officers taking him away, and waking up inside a cell. That was what security was for. An insurance policy. A way to keep things from going wrong. Their purpose was not to protect the people, their purpose was to protect the integrity of the world. To keep the principals that this reality was based on in-line. To ensure no corrupt code would pervert society. 937 was the natural enemy. An abomination. An insult to everything Wonder City stood for. His name was just a stain upon society.

That in itself was a paradox. He had no name. He was just another assigned number. No uniqueness. No originality. No personality. That, he decided, had to change. He thought back to the days of old, in which Abram, being reborn, was given a new name and a new purpose. 937 pulled the book out from his back pocket, and opened it up. It was completely blank still. In his other pocket was a pencil. With it, he wrote four words inside of it. "To be someone new."

He looked ahead with determination in his eyes, and spoke the next few words with passion and intent. "I am Abraham."

No more a slave. No more duality. He was a new man.