Work-Related Incident
By J. L. Young In the not-too-distant future, the government of the United States will no longer be of the people by the people. It will be of the corporations by the corporations. Only a select few are chosen to be educated beyond a sixth-grade level. If you aren’t chosen, you will be considered a "poor." If you exhibited intelligence beyond a sixth-grade level, you would be summarily executed. What criteria are considered for choosing those eligible for higher education? Familial wealth, ethnicity, health, and corporate loyalty. Corporate nepotism is also considered. As stated in the new Constitution, individuals not meeting the criteria have no rights and are subject to corporate oversight. Also stated in the document: If the "poor" are not in their designated work or living places at specified times, they are subject to detention or summary execution at the discretion of corporate officers. Those who present criticism of corporate rule or corporate officers or do not treat the "poors" accordingly are subject to fines and status demotion. If demotion reaches "poor" status, those individuals will be put to work. Those born or demoted to "poor" status are not subject to promotion. If those of "poor" status present themselves as possessing a higher status, they will be summarily executed upon detection of fraudulent behavior. "Poors" are subject to periodic drug testing. If they are found in possession or have tested positive, they are subject to detention. They are also subject to periodic collection of reproductive material for use as the corporate officers see fit. If the "poors" are given work status, they are subject to quotas. If quotas are not met, the punishment could be a loss of work status and subject to summary execution. “Mealtime!” a cook bellowed before serving slop to a herd of "poors." The line is always long. Some near the middle or the end may or may not eat today as rations may run out. Those people are given a ration of water for the day, and that is all they have. Horded food is contraband. Feeding others is charity, which is a crime. Back to work. Work. That’s eighteen hours of manual labor with mandatory sleep for 5.5 hours. Today, I’m a machine operator. I’m producing thousands of small grommets for a vehicle I will never see. Tomorrow, I may be on a different line. Maybe, I’ll be a landfill worker, I could see the sky. Who am I? I am, according to my tattoo, P-1355710. Other "poors" call me Lucky, and I don’t know what that means. I am on my fourteenth work rotation, which makes me twenty-four years old. Rumors circle about the bunkhouse there are poors on their ninetieth rotation. Those who reach that age are disposed of, as they are useless to the Corporations. What happens to them, I don’t know. Some say those were the ones who lived before the Corporate war. Then the power station was hit. The backups failed to start. This stopped production on all lines in our factory. Everyone was ordered to sit on the floor at our stations and wait until the power came back online. Our shackles prevented us from leaving. We were advised our day’s time would resume after the stoppage. After a corporate officer passed my station, I found a sliver of metal on the floor beside me, slid it into the slot on my shackle, and popped it open. When I felt it was safe, I leaped to my feet and ran. Outside was a war. Explosions rained down. Away, that’s where I need to get. Where? I don’t know. The sun was already down when I escaped. It was already coming up when I fell and it smelled. When the light came, I was in a pit, and with me were "poors." They were naked and dead. Somehow, I got out and ran until I couldn’t smell them. My body hurt and I didn’t know why. I heard talking, so I hid in a hollow tree. The spot wasn’t so good, because I was found. A woman found me. Fear made me run out again, but there were too many. She said to me, “We aren’t Corporate. You’re safe with us.” They took me to a camp and gave me food and drink. As we ate, they openly talked about the Corporations and what they have done to the "poors." I was welcome to join. So, I became part of the rebellion. I became Mason.
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