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Free Drones
Free Drones
Forman Domai stopped his informal entourage that always seemed to be following him and went over toward a worker toiling with a balky grav unit, which was piled high. The people parted for him as he made his way over, and the surprised grav worker stopped and nodded slightly to Domai as he approached. He would have happily bowed, but Domai had publicly announced long ago that the citizens of the Free Drones were all equal, and that the overt acknowledgement of rank was not to be encouraged.
Domai looked over the sled. His practiced eye noted that it looked old and well worn but functional. His inspection group and hangers-on clustered around him, the sled, and the worker. In the back a man with an opti-camera recorded Domai 'for posterity'. At his approach Domai accessed his gene-spliced database and downloaded the details of this grav operator, whose name was Karlin Routerre.
"Karlin," he said, addressing the worker by his first name, "you seem to be having troubles with the sled. Can I help?"
The thin, flustered worker looked at the Forman's friendly face and stammered, "Ah, no Forman. I am just taking the sled to shipping dock 126-beta. I'm fine." In his mind Karlin was honored that Forman Domai knew him personally! But then, Domai seemed to know everyone and what they did, and how they were doing. No wonder everyone loved him!
Domai nodded, and he critically looked over the sled again. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Is this shipment within specifications? It looks overloaded. Is your group leader asking you to endanger yourself to meet quotas?" he asked sharply.
"Oh no!" Karlin responded, straightening. "My work leader is a fine woman and worker, and would never do such a thing!" he responded defensively.
Domai smiled, apparently pleased. "Very well then, Karlin. Thank you for your fine work. You are an example for all of us. Now, let's get this sled to shipping!" Domai said, taking his place beside Karlin. Patting the worker on his threadbare shoulder, Domai then grabbed the pull and together they manhandled the sled to shipping. As they went Domai asked how his wife and nine children were doing, and Karlin's life story poured out. Domai nodded as he talked about his oldest child, Marika, who was entering middle school, and Domai interjected details along the way as if he knew the 11-year-old personally.
All along Karlin almost glowed. He just couldn't stop thinking: Forman Domai is standing right beside me!
++++++++++++++
Domai stood in front of a score of workers, who were evenly divided between male and female and were of all ages. They seemed to be a perfect cross section of the Free Drone's working society.
"You are about to expand our society through your valiant labor in foreign lands. Your journey will be long and your work hard, but you will persevere! You will show the elitist University what it means to be a Free Drone, and that our work and dedication to each other has made a just society that they can only envy. Share what you know with others, for they may not even realize that they are enslaved. Open their eyes! Lead by example! One day they may rise up and break their chains, and you may have planted the seeds of their freedom!"
Domai's eyes glittered and his face was fervent, and his was audience enthralled, for they believed.
"Go now, and know that I am proud of you, no matter what happens," Domai said simply and solemnly.
One by one the drones filed passed Domai, and Domai shook each and every one of their hands as they walked by and entered the transport.
After the last had entered the door hermetically sealed, and Domai and his assistant were alone in the smallish hanger.
"Did the recording go well?" Domai asked as the transport soundlessly lifted off and departed.
"Yes. I got the one-week and two-week greetings for their families from all of them and full body and voiceprints. I'll get to work on refinements immediately."
"Excellent," Domai said in a neutral voice. "Make sure their final messages are convincing, and emotional. We'll need them to start a propaganda campaign against the Good Professor."
As he walked to the exit the great pressure doors of the hanger closed with a resounding and final clang.
++++++++++
Domai entered his small worker's apartment after the 7 hours workday was done. With the 17 hour Chiron day this was more than standard at other factions, but each drone knew it was required for their society to succeed. After they were done with their shifts there were always civic responsibilities, such as factory clean up and 'voluntary' hab construction assignments. In reality the productivity of Drone society was due to the fact that they effectively toiled 11 or 12 hours of every Chiron day.
The apartment itself was small and utilitarian, measuring 100 square meters. It was suitable for a family of five by Drone standards, but the workers insisted that Domai get 'special privileges' to have the apartment all to himself, and Domai had 'reluctantly' accepted. Approaching the far wall Domai entered his pass code and had his DNA scanned, and the wall opened up. He walked into what was officially the adjacent administration complex, but was in reality an expansive extension of his official private domicile.
Stripping off his simple jumper Domai headed for the full body pulse shower. Inside he scrubbed and scrubbed hard, as he did every night, to remove the offending dirt and grease that seemed to cover him. In truth it revolted him, and he even spent 10 minutes cleaning the grime from under his fingernails. Of course he'd have to re-grime his fingernails for appearances for the next day, but for now he would be clean.
Exiting the shower he put on a silk robe, which he cinched around his waist as he sauntered into his sunken living room.
Like the rest of his drones, his day wasn't done when his sift was over.
"Computer activate," he ordered in a brusque voice. Examining the display, he immediately noticed a submittal from his assistant and activated it. The holo showed the worker Karlin he had helped today, with full voiceover describing the encounter. Domai liked what he saw - it would get excellent play in the press for the Drones and worldwide, and would reinforce his image as a man of the people. Looking at it critically it really was a fine performance on his part. But there was one thing that wasn't quite right: Karlin's clothes were too worn, and he looked too thin.
"Computer, make the image of Karlin less gaunt and make his clothes look newer. Yes, yes. No, too much. I don't want them to look new, just not as patched and bare. It should be barely noticeable, even by this Karlin. Yes, that's good.
"Time stamp it as edited by me, and send to my assistant for distribution," Domai stated.
Domai reviewed the rest of the items on his docket and delegated most to his assistants. One, however, he dealt with personally.
"Open channel one," he ordered
A full holo of Provost Zakharov appeared.
Seeing Domai, Zak smiled. "Friend Domai, how goes your efforts toward a classless society?"
Domai smiled in return. This was an old joke between them. "Quite well. And your research endeavors? Oh, the test subjects you requested are on the way. They are as close to a demographic mix as possible, per your specifications."
"Yes, that should allow me to finish my research on the effects of resonance fields on humans - most useful. As agreed I am encoding advanced spaceflight for you. Quid pro quo, eh, Domai?
Domai smiled, the first real smile of the day. "Thank you for the shard technology, Zak. It will come in very handy against that whining patrician Lal when I renew my assault. I intend to liberate his drones, of course. Power to the people!"
"Save it for your drones, Domai." Zak's face lost his completely happy demeanor. "Just don't try to 'liberate' me when you're done. I remember what you did to Deirdre."
Domai took on a well-practiced wounded look. "Now Zak, would I do that to my true friend?"
Zak raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Why, yes. I believe you would. I'll let you know when I need more medical test subjects. Zak out."
The screen went blank, and Domai stared at it for a moment.
Then he smiled.
Forman Domai stopped his informal entourage that always seemed to be following him and went over toward a worker toiling with a balky grav unit, which was piled high. The people parted for him as he made his way over, and the surprised grav worker stopped and nodded slightly to Domai as he approached. He would have happily bowed, but Domai had publicly announced long ago that the citizens of the Free Drones were all equal, and that the overt acknowledgement of rank was not to be encouraged.
Domai looked over the sled. His practiced eye noted that it looked old and well worn but functional. His inspection group and hangers-on clustered around him, the sled, and the worker. In the back a man with an opti-camera recorded Domai 'for posterity'. At his approach Domai accessed his gene-spliced database and downloaded the details of this grav operator, whose name was Karlin Routerre.
"Karlin," he said, addressing the worker by his first name, "you seem to be having troubles with the sled. Can I help?"
The thin, flustered worker looked at the Forman's friendly face and stammered, "Ah, no Forman. I am just taking the sled to shipping dock 126-beta. I'm fine." In his mind Karlin was honored that Forman Domai knew him personally! But then, Domai seemed to know everyone and what they did, and how they were doing. No wonder everyone loved him!
Domai nodded, and he critically looked over the sled again. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Is this shipment within specifications? It looks overloaded. Is your group leader asking you to endanger yourself to meet quotas?" he asked sharply.
"Oh no!" Karlin responded, straightening. "My work leader is a fine woman and worker, and would never do such a thing!" he responded defensively.
Domai smiled, apparently pleased. "Very well then, Karlin. Thank you for your fine work. You are an example for all of us. Now, let's get this sled to shipping!" Domai said, taking his place beside Karlin. Patting the worker on his threadbare shoulder, Domai then grabbed the pull and together they manhandled the sled to shipping. As they went Domai asked how his wife and nine children were doing, and Karlin's life story poured out. Domai nodded as he talked about his oldest child, Marika, who was entering middle school, and Domai interjected details along the way as if he knew the 11-year-old personally.
All along Karlin almost glowed. He just couldn't stop thinking: Forman Domai is standing right beside me!
++++++++++++++
Domai stood in front of a score of workers, who were evenly divided between male and female and were of all ages. They seemed to be a perfect cross section of the Free Drone's working society.
"You are about to expand our society through your valiant labor in foreign lands. Your journey will be long and your work hard, but you will persevere! You will show the elitist University what it means to be a Free Drone, and that our work and dedication to each other has made a just society that they can only envy. Share what you know with others, for they may not even realize that they are enslaved. Open their eyes! Lead by example! One day they may rise up and break their chains, and you may have planted the seeds of their freedom!"
Domai's eyes glittered and his face was fervent, and his was audience enthralled, for they believed.
"Go now, and know that I am proud of you, no matter what happens," Domai said simply and solemnly.
One by one the drones filed passed Domai, and Domai shook each and every one of their hands as they walked by and entered the transport.
After the last had entered the door hermetically sealed, and Domai and his assistant were alone in the smallish hanger.
"Did the recording go well?" Domai asked as the transport soundlessly lifted off and departed.
"Yes. I got the one-week and two-week greetings for their families from all of them and full body and voiceprints. I'll get to work on refinements immediately."
"Excellent," Domai said in a neutral voice. "Make sure their final messages are convincing, and emotional. We'll need them to start a propaganda campaign against the Good Professor."
As he walked to the exit the great pressure doors of the hanger closed with a resounding and final clang.
++++++++++
Domai entered his small worker's apartment after the 7 hours workday was done. With the 17 hour Chiron day this was more than standard at other factions, but each drone knew it was required for their society to succeed. After they were done with their shifts there were always civic responsibilities, such as factory clean up and 'voluntary' hab construction assignments. In reality the productivity of Drone society was due to the fact that they effectively toiled 11 or 12 hours of every Chiron day.
The apartment itself was small and utilitarian, measuring 100 square meters. It was suitable for a family of five by Drone standards, but the workers insisted that Domai get 'special privileges' to have the apartment all to himself, and Domai had 'reluctantly' accepted. Approaching the far wall Domai entered his pass code and had his DNA scanned, and the wall opened up. He walked into what was officially the adjacent administration complex, but was in reality an expansive extension of his official private domicile.
Stripping off his simple jumper Domai headed for the full body pulse shower. Inside he scrubbed and scrubbed hard, as he did every night, to remove the offending dirt and grease that seemed to cover him. In truth it revolted him, and he even spent 10 minutes cleaning the grime from under his fingernails. Of course he'd have to re-grime his fingernails for appearances for the next day, but for now he would be clean.
Exiting the shower he put on a silk robe, which he cinched around his waist as he sauntered into his sunken living room.
Like the rest of his drones, his day wasn't done when his sift was over.
"Computer activate," he ordered in a brusque voice. Examining the display, he immediately noticed a submittal from his assistant and activated it. The holo showed the worker Karlin he had helped today, with full voiceover describing the encounter. Domai liked what he saw - it would get excellent play in the press for the Drones and worldwide, and would reinforce his image as a man of the people. Looking at it critically it really was a fine performance on his part. But there was one thing that wasn't quite right: Karlin's clothes were too worn, and he looked too thin.
"Computer, make the image of Karlin less gaunt and make his clothes look newer. Yes, yes. No, too much. I don't want them to look new, just not as patched and bare. It should be barely noticeable, even by this Karlin. Yes, that's good.
"Time stamp it as edited by me, and send to my assistant for distribution," Domai stated.
Domai reviewed the rest of the items on his docket and delegated most to his assistants. One, however, he dealt with personally.
"Open channel one," he ordered
A full holo of Provost Zakharov appeared.
Seeing Domai, Zak smiled. "Friend Domai, how goes your efforts toward a classless society?"
Domai smiled in return. This was an old joke between them. "Quite well. And your research endeavors? Oh, the test subjects you requested are on the way. They are as close to a demographic mix as possible, per your specifications."
"Yes, that should allow me to finish my research on the effects of resonance fields on humans - most useful. As agreed I am encoding advanced spaceflight for you. Quid pro quo, eh, Domai?
Domai smiled, the first real smile of the day. "Thank you for the shard technology, Zak. It will come in very handy against that whining patrician Lal when I renew my assault. I intend to liberate his drones, of course. Power to the people!"
"Save it for your drones, Domai." Zak's face lost his completely happy demeanor. "Just don't try to 'liberate' me when you're done. I remember what you did to Deirdre."
Domai took on a well-practiced wounded look. "Now Zak, would I do that to my true friend?"
Zak raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Why, yes. I believe you would. I'll let you know when I need more medical test subjects. Zak out."
The screen went blank, and Domai stared at it for a moment.
Then he smiled.
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