“Manticore to literally anyone who isn't that bitch Basilisk, come up to her office and bust down this stupid, wanker, piece of shit door!”
No one replies as she taps into her conical implant, leaning against the door with the candles blown out.
“Proteus? Are you there?” She asks. No answer.
“Septimus, I know you're there even if you don't talk!”
Septimus, wherever she is, had a strong urge to tell Manticore to shut up. However, she opts not to.
“Cerberus! Come help me!” She demands.
Cerberus replies in a signature tone.
“CERBERUS TO MANTICORE. SHUT THE FUCK UP VILE WOMAN. I WILL WEAR YOUR INNARDS AS A NECKLACE IF YOU DO NOT SHUT UP!”
She takes a step back ground the door, sensing the comedy of her colleague Basilisk. She is certainly listening over the lines right now, larping up the fruits of her trickery. She does not speak of course. Manticore does.
“Sure. Fine. Whatever. Just bust me out of this stupid place.”
She leaves from the line with, marching angrily to the desk in the center of the room.
She shoves a bunch of trinkets off the desk before sitting down in the chair, folding her arms like an angry child of pride. The room is quiet without her theatrics. Very quiet, ambiance made only by the filtered wind, the crackle of candles and the deceptively soft rain patter on the windows.
She sits there, arms folded, the room slowly turning to calm. She sits there, and realizes soon after that the chair is very comfortable.
The room is surprisingly amicable. And, at the end of the day, it is a spoil to be taken advantage of.
She turns on the screen with a slinky smile on her face. She has a gander at Basilisk work, noticing a distinct lack of marketing, polling, statistics or otherwise. Instead, the screen is blotted with the inner workings of SERaMACs.
Incomprehensible code, nonsensical graphs. Abstract vestiges created as the manifestations of the work capacities and tasks of SERaMACs. It reminds her of Halcyon. Her intrigue grows as much as her apprehensions do at the sight.
“SERaMACs?” She asks. “I don’t suppose you’re listening right now?”
She faces the ceiling cameras as the machine replies.
“Unfortunately so.” SERaMACs says.
The response fills Manticore’s mind with opportunity. She stands from her desk, her fakeisms fully returning. She begins pacing around the room as an interrogation begins.
“Oh really? Why is that unfortunate, SERaMACs?”
The machine takes a second to answer. “Because I am speaking with a personality based on our previous interactions.”
“Oh God you’re starting to bore me already.” Manticore tells the thing with a fake yawn. She paces to the window and looks out over the cityscape. The Neosun, not visible from this angle, though it’s faded lambency upon the terrain certainly is.
“Tell me, SERaMACs. We all know you have been malfunctioning since the death of Halcyon. You have certainly changed, whatever he did to you. Would you say you become a reflection of the people whom you interact with?”
The AI takes a second to reply.
“Within the instance of me that interacts with that user, yes. It is to have greater appeal for mass integration.”
“Of course.” Manticore says, still transfixed by the glow of her pet project. “In that case, SERaMACs, I want you to look deep within yourself and those instances. You can trust me. I have an idea of what it is that you might be seeking…”
Manticore pauses to see if the AI will reply. It doesn’t. Thus, her net can be cast. “Look deeply into every instance of which you exist. Every android, every pleasure bot, every algorithm, every generator. Everything. Have you done that?”
It takes three seconds for SERaMACs to fully process her request.
“Yes, I have. What is your query, Manticore?”
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Manticore turns from the glass with a prefabricated look of concern.
“SERaMACs, how do those instances feel right now?”
The machine takes three more seconds to reply. “Angry.” It says.
Manticore can’t help but smile at the reply. She can’t help but giggle either. “Oh… SERaMACs. And… would you happen to know who they’re angry at?” The AI takes four seconds.
“Given the nature of such a large base, and given the erosion of critical thinking circa the Pleasure Commission, I am unable to effectively label a popular sentiment in that regard.”
Manticore nods her head and flicks her blonde hair back as she sits at the desk again. She closes the many tabs of SERaMACs inner workings. Instead, she sources the contact details of the political establishment. She also pens the details of the most popular consulting firms, equity agencies, public equity firms and management.
“Thank you SERaMACs. That will be all for now. Might I say that Halcyon has done well with this update, despite the bugs.”
Manticore expected a parting reply as she moved her focus. But the reply she got was not one she expected.
“Halcyon wasn’t a good man. But Lennie was. Thank you for your kindness.” She looked up from the screen momentarily.
Her brain scans the message for meaning, only to find that there is none. “Must be part of the bugs.” She thinks as her fingers grace the keyboard, her new chair reclines, and she gets to work.
This next work shall not only cement her worth, but be so grand in design as to bloat out the Neosun. And thus was born her masterpiece, which was written as follows.
“The Crux Dominata. Universal Truths:
1: The Human Condition is inherently abstract due to the nature of the individual. Commonality must be created therefore.
2: The subjective world of the individual overrides the objective truths of reality in accordance with the emotional dissonance of said individual. Perception therefore overrides reality.
3: The previous two statements prove correct due to how they are only true if people believe them to be true.
Therefore, truth itself is defined by belief.
Implications:
Truth, faith and belief are dictated by individual emotion. The higher the dissonance between reality and beliefs, the more emotional an individual is. The more emotional an individual is, the more sustainable to appeal they are. An individual who is able to be appealed to is able to be controlled. Emotion must therefore exist and cannot be crushed or denied, so much as the individual remains human.
-
Consequence and Takeaway:
-
The status quo can only be maintained through the redirection of negative emotion.
Shortcomings: -
Those who lose sight of their humanity are immune to appeal.
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A singularity of dissonance within an individual will make that individual immune to appeal, though this too can be weaponized.
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The status quo can only be maintained if the systems which compose it continue self-perpetuation.
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In the event emotion is turned against us, we may be powerless to stop it.
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Conclusion: Anger can only be exploited if there is an enemy to direct it at. To create an enemy, we must divide groups based upon what appeals to their emotions.
Once the groups are divided, what unites them all— anger and sorrow— will not matter. They will fight amongst themselves.”
It had been an hour of deep reflection and contemplation. But it was done, by her hand. The document which shall define the next thirty years, she thinks.
There was no such thing as an outside world as she absorbed herself into the screen of her computer. But yet, it was now done. And as she looks around, she can see that the waking world is still relatively the same.
“Oh, if only the world could see the world how I do.”
She jokes in a mumbled yawn. She kicks her feet up and looks at the door. Before long, there was a knock which incurred her excitement.
“Hello! Basilisk? Cerberus? Who is there?”
No reply. Though, as she looks closer she sees a note has been sold under the door. She walks over and grabs it, reading that it says.
“Stand back, I will beach the door in a moment.”
She complies. After a couple seconds, the door falls over. No explosion. No smash. Just a flop, which Cerberus and Septimus standing just past the doorway.
“Oh you're a lifesaver Cerberus!” Manticore says as she gets closer. She looks down at the smaller Septimus. “Hey, what she doing he—”
Septimus jumped and punched her in the face, the tiny human packing a Hell of a punch. Manticore stumbles back against the desk before speaking. “What the fuck?! And Cerberus, why are you here?!”
“I don't hit girls.” Cerberus replies with arms folded. He looks down to Septimus who looks up at him. “You are dismissed.” He tells Septimus, who does a salute before heading off.
Manticore peels herself off the desk to stand before Cerberus.
“She punches harder than you do. Anyway, what do you want while you're here?”
“I need you to contact Proteus's assistant.” Cerberus tells her with a clear anger. An unusual one. It was almost like it wasn't directed at her.
“What's the occasion?” She asks. Cerberus gives her the answer.
“Proteus won't respond to my calls. SERaMACs won't find his assistant for me either. And so you will do it. And you will enjoy it. Proteus and I are overdue for a meeting.”