Panoptic

Panoptic - Chapter 13

 And at last the snake returned upon itself, the winding trail finished its circle of spirals, and the humming, floating deck turned to firm land under his feet. And again he stood in Belle Stakker's office, and breathed air laden with sugar and artificial sweeteners, and the musty smell of old paper files, mouldering in metal cabinets, and noticed the pleasing smell of pine, and the chemical tang of glue, that rose from the large model building that dominated her office.

"Panopticon," she said.

He frowned. The word seemed familiar, but he couldn't remember what it meant.

"We're pleased with your work," she said, looking up from the glossy prints that lay on her desk. She pushed aside a torn package of strawberry creams, brushed crumbs from her hands, and stood. She gave him the ghastly grimace that passed for a smile, and looked him down and up again with bulging, toad eyes.

"Still no computer, huh?"

Her awful smile became a genuine grimace, as she shuddered, and shook her head. "Oh no," she said. "I can't put up with those terrible machines. But that's immaterial. Your pictures are remarkable. The Beautification will make excellent use of them."

He blinked, and cocked his head. "Use. Use?"

She grinned. "Ah yes, we were going to come to this someday. I feel I owe you an apology, but you, like the other contestants, have been kept in the dark about certain aspects of our project."

He frowned. "I guess I have. And I guess it's time for a little light." He looked around the old-fashioned office. "Perhaps you have a candle."

She gave a fake sounding laugh. "You are such a clever fellow, just like he said."

His back prickled. He wanted to ask her about that, but she rattled on, oblivious.

"You're correct, indeed. It is time to reveal the true scale of the project." She rubbed her hands together. "I've been looking forward to this for so long, waiting for the chance to talk about it, it's been so hard to keep my mouth locked down, let me tell you! I get so excited about our project, I can feel my heart leap!"

"Yes, well, you don't have to endure that any longer," he said.

"No," she said. "I do not. It began a long time ago. When I was just a sophomore at college, I read Jeremy Bentham. At the same time, I recall I was annoyed at the amount of time my roommate spent watching asinine TV shows. I thought to myself, if I have to waste one more minute of study time because she can't miss a single episode of Fashionista Nuns, I'll go insane. Just then I noticed something; I was all about public service, from a very early age. My father raised me right! How many people shirk jury duty, ignore city council elections, how many can even name their mayor? And yet, night after night on these infernal TV shows, ordinary people from every city and town in the country, in the entire world, volunteer to be humiliated, to be ridiculed and disgraced, all for a chance to parade before the camera?"

"Panopticon," he breathed.

"You begin to see," she said. "I knew you would. The vision has its own power. Once it enters your mind, you cannot ignore, cannot forget it."

He shook his head. "It can't be."

"Imagine a world where everyone is free, everyone is peaceful, where there is no more crime. Imagine a world where people compete, not to outdo their neighbours in wealth or status, but for the attention of the cameras! Imagine a world where life becomes beautiful, and every moment of beauty is captured on camera, preserved forever-"

"For the highlight reels, or the bloopers," he said, gritting his teeth.

"We will reward them, at first, but soon that won't be necessary. They'll come to love the camera, live for the camera, when every day is a live performance for an audience of millions. Or better than millions, billions!" Her eyes blazed with the zeal of the fanatic.