A week following the debut of the Eternal Sabbath the reaction from Brussels was cooperation than criticism. During a press briefing set against the backdrop of EU banners and the gentle blue crescent representing Somnum, a fatigued Commissioner, for Economic Stability delivered the statement.
"During this period of adjustment we need to advance not only in technology but also in social aspects " the Commissioner declared, her tone a skilled mixture of worry and determination. "Ongoing unemployment is more, than an economic measure; it represents deep human suffering. Today we introduce an approach."
The "Social Harmony Initiative." A trial scheme carried out in three selected "Transitional Assistance industrial cores located in northern France eastern Germany and southern Italy. Individuals facing unemployment would receive a complimentary lifelong Eternal Sabbath Subscription. It was presented as an advantage a psychological support measure. "To alleviate the strain of change " the Commissioner stated, ". To promote a steady balanced social environment as we steer through our collective economic path."
Pamela Pauline sent the memo to Devon's suspended Europol account adding a comment: "Look? Practical fixes. Hope you're resting well."
Inside a confined Geneva boarding house chamber redolent of wool and stale coffee Devon and Ben viewed the replay on a small flickering display. Thea Tove had arranged the room, her usual gift-shop impartiality discarded, overtaken by a anxious fury.
"They're compensating individuals to turn into Vacants " she spat, wringing a dishcloth, between her fingers. "Compensating them using their own minds."
"Not paying " Ben said softly his gaze locked on the screen showing Flavio Fergal now shaking hands with the Commissioner. "Buying. They are buying peace. It costs less than riots than retraining less, than hope. They are purchasing the silence of the class."
The system was devilishly straightforward. Economic stagnation had resulted in an excess of potentially discontent individuals. Somnum proposed transforming that inactivity from a threat, into a subdued resource. The Subscription would keep them in a condition of " psychic equilibrium"—sufficiently satisfied to avoid rebellion, too tranquil to push for change their drive softly and enduringly subdued. It was the austerity strategy: reducing the expenditure of human longing.
"It's a beta trial " Devon explained, the truth. Unmistakable. "A scale beta trial, for Stage Two. They'll deploy thousands of Vacants within areas prepared for mind insertion for political conditioning. An ideal obedient populace. If it succeeds here…" He left the thought unspoken. If it succeeded it would become law. A new arm of the system: the Ministry of Acquiescence.
His phone vibrated. A text, from a number. They are utilizing the Zurich safehouse system. Coordinates included. A present. For Veronica. – A Friend.
Included were map coordinates and an entry code. The "friend" had to be Agata Vance drifting through the remnants of her past existence.
"It's an ambush " Ben said plainly.
"Likely " Devon consented, slipping the phone into his pocket. "However it's also a lifeline.. It's the sole force driving us ahead not merely observing the tide roll in."
The safehouse wasn't located in Zurich but rather in an abandoned telecom relay facility nestled in the gently undulating hills to the south. A concrete shelter, from a suspicious era. The entry code was correct. The massive door moved open quietly on its hinges.
Inside was not an ambush, but an archive. A shrine to heresy.
Before her Acquired Contentedness Veronica Vigdis had been occupied. Printed sheets were attached to soundproofed surfaces: diagrams of the Aeterna satellites their broadcast frequencies correlated with brainwave patterns. Marketing schedules outlining the staged introduction of "implanted preferences.". At the heart of the room resting on a workbench a makeshift apparatus: a satellite receiver dish merged with an altered audio transducer, connected to a laptop.
A note was affixed to the laptop, written in Veronica's handwriting: "They transmit the Calm. This device can receive the Calm.. Possibly… reflect it back altered. An incorrect tone, in the melody. I name it the Discordanter. Just a theory. Untested. Exercise caution. The signal not calms. It determines what calm truly is."
Devon and Ben were surrounded by the documentation of a woman's rebellion. This was the proof they required. Not merely of damage. Of deliberate purpose. A plan, for psychic control.
The door snapped closed behind them.
They spun around. No stormtroopers, no enforcers. Only Hugo Hubert resting against the shut door hands tucked into the pockets of his woolen coat. His eyes scanned the room with a look of intrigue.
"Veronica's concluding assignment. We questioned what happened to her research notes. Over-the-top the atmosphere, yet it seemed to suit her mood." He grinned at them kind yet let down. "Benjamin. Devon. You resemble moths drawn to the dying gleam. It's commendable in a sense."
"It's done, Hugo " Ben stated, his tone calm yet his posture rigid. "This space confirms it. It's not health. It's technology."
"Undoubtedly it's engineering!" Hugo chuckled softly. "Civilization is built on engineering. We are crafting a less harsh civilization. Those folks in the Transition Zones… we are providing them with a respect their politicians have never managed. Not the respect of employment. The respect of being free, from needing one. From the shame of being turned down the stress of expenses. We are bestowing upon them resilience."
"You're handing them nothingness " Devon snarled.
"Is ignoring suffering such a wicked thing?" Hugo disengaged from the doorframe. Stepped inside. "Observe the world, Devon. Really observe it. It operates like a machine fueled by desire. It's shattering its components—the humans—faster and faster. We are not the antagonists. We are the technicians providing a kind and lasting shutdown for the damaged parts. The Social Harmony Initiative is compassion, on a scale."
He indicated the Discordanter sitting on the bench. ". You plan to employ her pitiful little noise device to what end? Revive the torment? Rekindle the unease? Why? For some notion of 'struggle'? Struggle is pointless suffering."
Devon's fingers clenched the flint inside his pocket. The intense ache served as a signal keeping Hugo's reasoning at a distance. "You don't have the authority to determine what's efficient for the spirit."
"The soul " Hugo exhaled heavily as though speaking to a youngster. "That is the final, vanishing legend you hold on to. There exists the nervous system.. We have discovered how to adjust it to a superior calmer frequency."
He remained still not interfering while Ben started collecting Veronica's papers Devon gingerly disconnected the laptop. Lifted the bulky awkward Discordanter. Hugo merely observed, like a pathologist witnessing a last convulsion.
"Accept it " Hugo stated, his tone utterly stripped of any warmth leaving behind a cold clinical conclusion. "Present it to anyone you believe might care. The Initiative kicks off week. The initial ten thousand Subscriptions will be issued. The signal will be sent.. An ocean of flawless subsidized tranquility will sweep across those communities.. They will express gratitude to us for it. Your proof will become a relic, from an era—the era of needless emotion."
He pushed open the bunker door. Pale afternoon light poured inside. "Proceed. Let your little discord ring out. The symphony of silence has already started. You aren't rescuing anyone. You're merely grumbling about the noise level."
They passed by him bringing the woman's arms into the brightness. Hugo stayed back. There was no need for him to pursue. His triumph lay not in halting them. In making their defiance seem old-fashioned senseless—a clamor soon to be consumed by the immense encroaching quiet of a realm deciding, freely happily to embrace absolute numbness.
The Social Harmony Initiative was not a conspiracy. It was a social contract, rewritten in the language of surrender. And the signing bonus was a lifetime of not caring.