Nebula [working title]

Prologue  - The Bargain

Marybeth’s heels clash with tile below them, echoing a sharp click down the dimly lit hallway, her long, skinny legs steadily making their way to the meeting already in progress.  Clutching heavy folders entrusted to her, she takes a deep breath, straightens her skirt and prepares to interrupt a cast who seldom welcome interruption.   Before entering she presses her thumb to the security box, an undetectable scrape of her skin instantly identifying her, unlocking the door. 

A mousy girl, still as green in her professional role as she is in adulthood, she slowly turns the knob and quietly enters the room, where she ‘s greeted by abundant desperation in the air.  Her heels no longer make a sound as she takes a seat at the only available chair around the table, next to her superior who is leading the discussion. Mary Beth’s hand slightly shakes as she slides the private stack of folders over to him.  He briefly glances down and finishes his thought.  A charming yet stoic man, in the time Marybeth has worked for him she has never seen him so overcome with intensity.  He commands the room now as he had so many times before.

“Sustainability is no longer a reality, we must be proactive,” he says removing the only green folder from atop the cluster of grey folders. His eyes quickly move across the first page bringing a smile to his face and a revitalizing energy to his demeanor.  He looks up and gives the floor to his colleagues.

“This is mad.  Even for you. Not to mention impossible. With the coming elections and the current divide of the State, what is the assurance those will not choose their own interest instead of the best interests of the whole?” One man spoke in a booming voice that was typically jolly, his hands upon his belly and sandwich crumbs perched on his mustache.

“And support? Best interests aside, we ran on a platform of uniformity as necessity in these volatile, hard-pressed times,” says another in the room, a look of concern smeared across her face.

“Like all things, calculation is key.”   He passes out all but one of the grey folders to their respective owners as assigned by the name on the label. “You will find we did our best to address your individual concerns when preparing these initial plans.” The others directed their attention to the information given to them. He continued,   “Most of you have already taken action to move forward the agenda and we thank you.  So today friends… today we promise to commit our resources and our efforts to bring change.  No longer will we focus on individual will or gain, but rather the progression of the whole.  Across the aisle we will ensure the exponential development of our polity, keeping in mind we must begin at the starting line if we’re to have any hope of a successful finish.  This is a choice we make for our future -- a future almost lost…” He paused. “Now, anyone who wishes to be excluded from our strategy moving forward is welcome to leave at this time, all others, I suggest you review carefully the contents in your packet before obligating yourself to the contract we’ve put before you.” Fearless of any one person dismissing themselves from the room, he quickly pulls out a thick sheet of translucent paper.  It glows to his touch as it picks up the heat from his body. 

Mary Beth seems to be the only person in the room taken aback by sight of the BO-P2.  Above her pay grade and thought only to be a rumor, she had followed the public debate around the controversial system, but as far as she knew, nobody had yet seen a working device.  There it was, real.

Full name the Blood Oath – Phase Two, it is the newest advancing technology in personal information syncing and credit reporting. It works by taking a small sample of genetic code from each party who enters the contract, the information is then stored into the centralized database: Nebula.  Every individual is then given a serial number and number ranking.

The much-debated B0-P2 had recently been the talking point amongst every social circle, news publication, and blogger.  Ecoists claimed it will circumvent the divide between rich and poor. It was to be the newest of many government-subsidized attempts to preserve the almost-extinct middle class.  The idea being that anyone could advance through hard work, honestly and accountability, however, there was no hiding the implications of such a system, as maintaining your ranking is crucial to your status and overall advancement and was also controlled by the powers that be and they were controlled by currency. 

A high ranking of course could open doors not otherwise available to those who were born less fortunate, but ranking could preclude low rankers from owning property, goods or even having families. You or your children could be prevented from attending educational institutions, entering lease agreements, obtaining loans, health care, or even be denied access to public or private establishments. This ranking is never forgiven and follows your children after death.

Although Marybeth worked for the subsidiary company that would be responsible for the manufacturing of the device, after reading in a news article that the B0-P2 would have a feature where points could be purchased or traded, she began actively speaking out in protest against the system anonymously in online forums.  She shuttered.  A feeling of sadness came over her as she thought about her future, the future of the State and the power of this fortuneteller, the BO-P2.

“Let me be the first patron to pledge my support to the Renaissance.”  Her boss touches his palm to the center of the translucent B0-P2 sheet.  It flickers blue and red signaling the sampling and logging process are complete.  It then glows green indicating it is ready for the next participant.  One by one -- all but one -- step up to join The Renaissance.