Ch 6: What are names?

Behind the frail, large tube that brought up the batch of new workers, a smaller, well-kept one was hidden from the public eye. It connected only two levels and passed through several layers without a stop between them. Siete’s invitation tasked them with taking it, along with two strangers, on a specific day, at a specific hour.

The walled off and roofed over megacity, the Commune, had a very simple, but peculiar pyramidal build. Its builders, either a group of allied governments, a trust of old mega corporations, or a dying empire controlled by different factions, for once in their tenuous run followed the advice of people who knew what they were talking about and in a last attempt built a fortress meant to withstand the upcoming storms and winds of acid and rust. Over 10 million average people were brought to build it in record time-frame and only 10% of them survived to live on inside of it.

Only at the phase of how to secure it against the outside forces, inside stability and enough resources to help over 8 million humans survive for many centuries. Since then, the population dropped to 2 million. 

The people’s guard dropped down as soon as they found themselves under the Commune’s protection, and the Brands quickly formed a ruling court and a smithing hand, grabbing “land”, introducing contracts and other formalities of the old world. 

Currently, most of the space has been altered to fit their needs. Tubes ,stairs and automatic lanes connect facilities to factories and stores, and in some cases. Then there are the elevators, the most secure ways of transportation used by the powers to be for their special uses. Like either to bring hundreds of cheap labor forces from the underlevel or like the one from today, that Siete was invited to use.

“ Patient”, a rudely toned audio message started playing from Siete’s Relate comdev. “In two hours the doors to the laboratory will be opened to you, Patient 7 and 6. Be late and get fired from the race. Got it?”, it related in bold font. A message then popped up, with an attached ping showing them where they had to go. 

The clopy only murmured something, a bit dazed as for the past few hours they only blanked out at the ceiling. Well, a corner to be specific, as the pod they recharged in was inclined at a 70% angle. Fitted better in the tight, barely lit room. 

This was the first time in a while the clopy went to lay down and their smile held on until the comdev ringed. Everything they owned, like a second cap, some rusty bolts and spare shirt fitted in a small pouch around the waist, and since today was also eviction day it could also become packing day.

On the way out Siete dropped their card down the required hatch, and left before any of the other clones would wake up or return from their shifts. It came like an afterthought, but maybe it made sense to at least wave them goodbye. It was a tiny shake, but it warmed the clopy on the inside. It felt right.

……………………………………………………………..

Like an overexcited dog, the ping clipped like crazy the closer Siete got to their destination, one of the private elevators, enveloped by a crimson tube. The last one to get there, and with only a few minutes left on the deadline, the clopy immediately drew the attention of two strangers. One was an average-sized, 1.7 meters, but bulky young man, whose lazy eyes were accentuated by his svelte cheeks. The other towered over the both, with her mohawk adding an extra 20 cm to the total of 2 meters. Siete thought that the stranger’s breathing mask made it hard for her to talk, but after a gruff “Alright” that misconception was quickly dispelled. 

-”Cap down”, she asked.

-” Oh? Sure, here you go”, and the clopy did as demanded, patiently waiting for the requester to allow them to put the cap back on. The took a second glance at the young man, the newcomer and then brushed the vast empty lands besides her mohawk. “Why the fuck are we all of bald?”

The boy shrugged, and Siete’s comment about being genetically induced for them passed them by. 

-” Well, whatever criteria the upsiders use to pick us, it better include that as well. Since a clone is the last one invited, I’m guessing we’re at the bottom of the shaft?”

Siete- “ Yes, if you asked for ranks. I’m the representative for the eighth Brand.” 

The boy snored in response, and the woman rolled her eyes. “ So if the clone is 8 and I’m 6, then that makes him 7. So-”, but before she could finish her thought, the clopy introduced themselves with scaring enthusiasm. 

-“ Hi, hello.  My name is Siete Forg, by the way. Even if we’re opponents, can I ask for yours?”

For the first time since they got there, the woman turned her eyes toward the wide-smiled clone and gave them a dull stare. “ Right, you guys are programmed to be polite all the time, aren’t you? Can call me Angie…Wait, what did you say your na-”

-”And him?”

A bit bewildered, the masked competitor turned toward the sleepy boy and for a second her confusion stepped a bit to the side. “This sleepy fellow here? Uhm, what did you say that your name was again?” She tried to wake him with an elbow nudge, but his hand swiveled to the right, dodging the light push. Siete gasped in surprise and exclaimed in a high-pitch, raspy tone:

-“ What the…how did you get your hands on a cranial integrated motion sensor, mister? Or is your hand mod with their own motion sensors ? At what range does it work? Does it hurt to use it? Is it set to recognize moving mass or changes in air density?” The rapid-fire succession of the questions widely woke up the boy, becoming aware of Siete, then Angie, and in the end, of his surroundings. He looked up and down at the elevator, then again at the people around him, and then at his wrist.

Boy -” Oh, I was delivered even earlier than expected.”, he said nonchalantly. Then, as if by routine, massaged what little facial hair he had on top of his chin, did some stretches that almost ripped his green gym shirt, and blurted out a long yawn for good measure.

-“ Yes, hi, hello, my name is Marchos. With a silent h.”, he presented himself in an even more polite way than the C.E Siete, surprising Angie. Once a weird invitation from a jeweled woman brought her from the mines, Angie already constructed how other patients would act like- rivals, cutthroat and a company to be kept on a tight leash. A slim one. 

Unfortunately she is also a sucker for politeness,  and was easily swept by the younger competition. The boy, in the meantime, was looking through the conversation log on his Relate device and tried to politely answer all the questions asked of him.

Marchos -” You seem quite, curious? for a C.E. You even have your own, custom name, huh? Siete, you said?”, he asked, as his log had the questions marked under the name Seven-Four. ‘Most probably a nickname’, he thought to himself. “Yes, I am using sensors, but I can not tell you more than that. All I can say is that my job requires me to have them and that company rules say it’s a patented secret. “

-” Well that’s a bummer”, huffed Siete. “I didn’t get that many customers with that kind of military-grade tech at the office, you know, so I was curious about them”. Marchos didn’t even make a peep in response, taken a bit back by the remark. Few people should be able to recognize what grade his gear should be, information certainly not privy to a C.E. like them.

Angie -” Nice eye you’ve got there, you sleuth, you. Never heard of the ‘military; grade. Did you learn that from some learning protocol used during the cloning process?”. Unlike most people, she was accustomed to speaking with a C.E. outside work, but she found them either way too formal in their speech or tedious to talk to after the initial polite charm wears off. While she never understood the normal societal prejudices about the clones and tried to not be aggressive or creepy in their conversations, she often noticed that a C.E. would always keep their distance from people, never trying to connect more than it was required.

Siete -“No, I don’t think so. I mean, when I became operational 26 years ago I knew all about cleaning and medical types, but everything else I learned by myself. If I hadn’t, I probably would have been decommissioned a long time ago”. And there it was, exactly the type of answer Angie expected from a C.E; she even became a bit disappointed that Siete got her hopes up. Which were dispersed right after by their next question.

Siete -” So mister Marchos, why the silent h in your name? The name Marcos still exists and is used by many people, correct?”

Angie felt as if her guard was breached for a second, and just stared in disbelief at how easily they asked a normal, personal question. ‘Huh…The little clone is right, that’s a curious detail.‘, she thought to herself. Not wanting to be left out of the fun, Angie joined in on piling on Marchos about his name, and then giggling alongside the clopy at the explanation.

Angie -“ Is that real? Your family did that because of a bet? So, technically, you are the only Marchos in the world, on paper?”, the girl asked incredulously.

Marcos -” Ye…, yes. But only on records, in casual conversations I demand people to use my real name…So can you please just call me Marcos ?”, he was a bit shaky in his voice, not used to someone they just met to tease him. “And yes, I tried to change it, but my fathers and mother said that it would break their hearts if I did that”.

Siete -” Well, on one side, it’s kinda nice and sweet of you that you care so much for your family, you shouldn’t be ashamed of that”. The two still weren’t sure if the C.Es remarks were programming or genuine, but it slowly grew to one perception. “But on the other, you did shoot yourself in the foot by taking the bet. Sorry…Marhhos.”- With that light jab, Angie was sold on Siete, laughing harder from getting caught off guard by a joke from a C.E than the joke itself. Marchos, on the other hand, was sighted in defeat.

Angie -” Yep, I got to agree with one. Well, since we are sharing some moments, it’s my turn then. This is usually my ice-breaker”, Angie said, pointing towards her mask – “ and before you ask, yes, it’s grafted on the face”.

Marcos -” Miner mods, right? I mean the overalls kinda gave that away, but the mask had me confused a bit. Bedrock miner?”.

Angie tried to imitate the old way of stretching the belt loops, but since she used those to tie the uniform around her waist, she just imitated the affect.

Angie -“Yap. So, I’ve got to compete against two detectives now? Part of the fourth commune, born and worked my whole life under the earth. That’s also how I got a ghostly look even though the rest of my body is as brown as a bronze spoon. We barely get any lamps, let alone Artf. UV lights. Anyway, back to the mask- Trick to it is, when you get it attached, they fail to mention that it can’t be removed.”

Siete -“Well, how do you eat or drink then?”

The girl widened her big eyes even more, and with a metaphoric grin on her face, pulled out a toolbox from her backpack, filled with giant syringes, tubes, and lots of packs.

Angie -“Ta-da”, she added as she opened it.

-“ Ohhh!”, Siete responded with fake surprise, trying to go with the mood.

Angie -“ It took months to adapt, but solid food tastes like crap anyway. And I found some spices, so to speak, for this ingestion method. Options: I can either inject them intravenously, through a breathing tube, eye drops, snort them, or insert them through the backside. Oh, and I can also control the speed at which my body absorbs the nutrients by either injecting them through my legs or higher up the body. Neat isn’t it”, she asked, waiting with glittering brown eyes to see their reaction.

Before any of the other two could try to avoid giving their honest reaction, the elevator door opened, saving them from having to keep their grimaces up. While Angie and Marc pondered if it was safe, Siete was the first to enter it.

Siete – “What’s the point of a trap at this moment in time, anyway? And the message from the management said that I’d be disqualified if I missed it.”