#not trying to make it peach but it's not like this basic colour mapping thing has much detail

[scroobles]

My Testimony Against Rictus Corporation

At Rictus I was living out my destiny as a Marketing Strategist, refining campaign messages and watching them hit the bullseye right between the eyes of our demographic. The deadlines were tough and I hit most of them at a hairsbreadth but I was tenacious and worked uncompromisingly to get things done. The multiple personality quizzes at the company corroborated this and they were hardly ever wrong, I suppose it was the main reason I was chosen for the post. I was for the most part liked by the office, although looking back its hard to tell what “liked” consisted of. Whether it was a genuine connection or just assumption of mutually shared moral axioms I wasn’t sure. I do not blame my colleagues entirely for this as it was the way in which were trained that dictated much of our behaviour in the office. We all started at the corporate bootcamp. This was set in the welsh borderlands against a hillside with a view of the beautiful foothills, planted with a ring of orchards circulating the property. It looked much more like a Spa than a bootcamp, I suppose that was the point, to start us relaxed and open. I was greeted at reception with soaps, lavender oils, bathrobes and shown upstairs to my personal futon. We were required to stay training for a month in total, which was asking a lot but as I looked at the view from my balcony I knew this was a blessing. The staff there were filled with a joie de vivre and an eagerness to please switched on at all times. Josh was our instructor for the month, he gave off the strong impression of an online fitness instructor rather than a business guru, his charisma was practically a smell, a muscle and a force field. This actually became infectious after a while. He made us run around in the morning as in any bootcamp and we were told physical fitness was a requirement, which non-maintenance of could get you fired. In the afternoons there were open-air presentations called “Transparency Classes”, which we would take sat under the dappling light of the orchard where we talked about the basic principles of business and afterwards moved onto more personal topics. It was clear we were to divulge our past selves, if there was any hesitation in this our instructor would repeat the company mantra “The more in light, the more we make right”. These classes gelled our group together and we became fairly close after the month was through, a closeness comparable to a first year of Uni. After this I was feeling refreshed and ready for the work ahead. We were sent in a busload together to the headquarters, had our checks, our cards, our eyes mapped and were led through the atrium to our Marketing quarters on the 1st floor, through the serpentine interior of the building. I was shown to my own personal Panorama ICE screen, I stroked the plexiglass screen awake, tingling from the power at my fingertips. One of the first projects to come to our sentinel was a market testing project for a new product developed called The Memory Ball. We were invited to test it for ourselves passing the ball to each other in a circle, It was a dull grey oracle, about the size of an easy peeling orange. I felt it in my hand and must have squeezed it as the light began to shine through my palm, I let go of the ball and it hovered there dead still in the air, I thought what a supreme piece of technology! We were given them to carry on our person for a week, as it took that amount of time to prepare your memories to be accessed. I came back from speaking to a test group who were full of bountiful praise for the product, I couldn’t wait to try it for myself. I entered their thoughts into our feedback vortex and headed home with anticipation. Back at my conapt I sat in my living room, unable to wait I began rubbing the ball, it started whirring and suddenly the memories of the preceding week came sputtering into life in holographic grandeur. Memories of the office, of the river from public transport, columns of rain moving across the sky in the distance. These images experienced themselves in front of me, I was only a third party to myself, blissfully apart but yet so near. It was a beautiful experience that would eventually in the end, turn bitter for me.

Society as a whole knows about Rictus and what the end goal of the platform is. Its products all provide a path for you to create an Exo-Soul, this is a perfect simulation of ourselves that can last pristine, stored forever in ether. You must have seen them, if a friend or a colleague hasn’t shown one to you you may have seen them acting in Hollywood films without being aware of it. Achieving a synthetic immortality is the main driving factor for many people’s use of the app, however for some this is only a side-effect of using the app. Creating an Exo-Soul was never my personal goal however, I didn’t really feel comfortable being uploaded into the ether for anyone to access for eternity. I was too self-conscious, even in death I would embarrass myself! For some reason I didn’t ever criticise this nature of the business though, I guess there has been too many socio-technological implosions in our society to even begin to attempt a criticism of this power. Anyway I knew it was a dream marketing tool, it converged our human desires, drew people into the app and gave them the fuel to keep pushing through the program. I had the Marketing excalibur in my hands but I didn’t understand the morality regarding its power. I kept segmenting and strategising, functioning as a consistent worker in the quadrant. The first time I felt that things were changing for the worse was after a seminar we had introducing a new appliance on our Panorama ICE systems. This new appliance allowed us to see the psychological make-up of our users, their names were not included but it provided a sweeping look at the real-time state of their lives in absurd, graphic rendering. As the presentation closed I went back to the lower quadrant to inspect this new function. My hand waved over the title “Pulse Systems” on the ICE , I saw the familiar hexagons slide across the screen but these opened much different information this time. I could access the romantic relationship satisfaction of users scored out of 10 with decimals, the state of users mental health, even the general characteristics of their lived experience, for example whether the texture of their sensory existence was grainy, blurry, black etc. I felt deeply unsettled at the information available to me on my screen and felt the need the share my worries with the others, we were meant to be honest with each other after all. I came into the quadrant mess as my close acquaintances were speaking about their home entertainment systems. I waited for my opportune time and put myself forward “So how’s everyone feeling about these new Pulse systems then? Personally I feel a little afraid of them y’know, seems like we’ve gotten too personal”. The look of puzzlement came across their faces as the collective mastication slowed to a halt. One close acquaintance Mary said “Why do you feel that way? I think this close relationship with our customers is beautiful in way, they can tell us how they are feeling and we can respond to help them, help mould their lives into a better shape”. She used the word closer like it was a relationship between between lovers, a strange word for a Marketing strategist to be using. The others were nodding I couldn’t quite tell if they were being genuine. “Well I just think that this information is nothing to do with us, of course we can track their use of the product but I think the extent of people’s feelings should end at what they think of the product, don’t you think?”. She shifted her position in her seat and said “The people have spoken Sam, they wish us to understand them. We can give people a 360 degree new life, our products can give them a new lease of creativity, an interlocutor for them 24/7, even immortality. The information we gather is inevitable and as you well know Sam, the more in light, the more we make right”. I couldn’t come back to such an entrenched position, I felt myself adrift, filled with a doubt for the people who I have been in the midst of this whole time.

There was a change in my colleagues attitude towards me from then on. A library of poorly hidden distrustful looks answered me, only the most perfunctory conversation greeted me in the corridors. I kept working on my projects continuously burying myself in the work in an attempt to forget. I was hurt by their coldness and retreated further and further into my Memory Ball. In the evenings my living room was graced with memories of many months before. A skyline the colour of blazing peach therapeutically pacified me, the granular vividness was astonishing and I could forever rewind and pause. Even zooming in on the dilated eyes of Pat my co-worker laughing at a crap joke of mine provided me much relief. One night I was working on crunching some reports for a product called “The Philosophers Throne”, which to our surprise became immensely popular with the elderly population. This was a essentially just a toilet but one which engaged you in a philosophical discussion, asking pertinent and paradoxical questions in an attempt to draw a clear line of thinking out of you. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself, you could say hysterically considering I was alone with only the black night outside as a friend. Working at night was always a strange experience, it was like being in a fluorescent desert, there was a buzzing and squeaking in your ears you could never place, was is it in your brain or from some unknown source in the office? I stood back and blinked and feeling my attention pass through the ceiling I made to the water cooler for extra hydration. As the water filled my bottle I saw the light of a monitor in the managers office. This was against company policy so I dutifully went to turn it off. Just before I did something caught my attention. A header titled “How Rictus Challenges can capitalise on information suction from company targets” raised my eyebrows. To explain what Rictus Challenges are if you are unfamiliar with them, they are challenges in which you have to pass to move onto the next level on the app. These levels are Humani, Chrysalist, Exo-Trist, Wizari & Pantheon. If you make it to the pantheon you can have your Exo-Soul released after death, for all the world to see. I Remembered wondering how peculiar and specifically tailored these challenges were before but this all made sense now, I kept on reading. The document detailed how these surveillance Challenges provided actionable information on the company’s “enemies” and helped curtail their movements against Rictus. One example given was a customer who was told that he needed to ascend a hill overlooking a house belonging to a government official and meditate with a Rictus Headset on for two days, which he honourably did. This unearthed valuable evidence against the government official of an affair he was having, which was used to silence him. I was shocked at the use of our customers as vessels to carry out the company’s dirty work, I printed the document and made off with it. Unsure of my own place within the company, even the world, but knowing that I must act in some way.

The next morning my manager entered the office in his usual self-assured manner, clutching his morning Americano. I saw him walk into his office where the exposed monitor was waiting for him. Moments later he came out of his office with a fretful look, like a wolf retreating from a buffalo. He scanned the floor left to right looking for anyone else aware of this information breach, I averted my eyes, seeing this he became just a bit suspicious of me. For a week I tried to time my movements and miss bumping into him, however putting much effort into avoiding people marked me as more suspicious, I suppose I have a terrible capacity for concealing my feelings too. We were told for GDPR reasons we were only aloud inside our own departmental quadrants, I knew this was clearly nonsense, I was planning to explore another level higher up. I knew there was a level some way up called “Central Navigation”, where many of the corporate-wide decisions came from, a lot of our departmental prerogatives had its stamped authority. As I was thinking of this the manager sat himself on my desk, smiling with cold, concerned eyes  “Hey Sam, you seem a little pre-occupied, and I don’t mean with the work. Is there anything you need to tell me?” I responded reflexively “Well nothing really, actually there’s something going on at home” He leaned in sensing a good deal of hesitation in my answer. “That’s interesting Sam, I thought you lived alone?” He smelt blood “Uh yeah, I mean back at home, home. Parents not so well, I need to sort out their healthcare, expensive nowadays isn’t it?” His posture sunk back to its usual state from hearing this excuse, disappointed that his hunch had been incorrect, trusting me even though I was talking like a fridge “Okay as you know our prime value is to be transparent to one another, I truly suggest you speak to our Rictus councillors about this, we don’t want anything happening to you” “Sure” I said, “If this continues you will see them” he reiterated, “Yes, I understand” I said staring into the middle distance, with one desire to find what and who was pulling the strings above me. I knew there were multiple fob entries and no eye scanners, as they were placed on entry to the building. I knew the janitor for the building as I was a frequent late night worker. One evening I accosted him, and gave him a very expensive handshake for his participation in getting me up there. He said for me to be out of there by 9 latest otherwise I would be locked in and that would be the end of us both. The next night I lowered my Janitors cap and made it up to the “Central Navigation” level after getting past the fobs and keypads. I went to clean the toilets first and worked my way around the level. It was a darkly lit area, like an aeroplane cabin at night, I felt watched. I heard somebody coming down the corridor and made my way into the filing annex in an empty office. The shuffling and voices came nearer until I heard them enter the room. It seems the senior employee was surrounded with a coterie of lawyers. He began the address “Welcome gentlemen I have brought you here to discuss the new final clause in the Rictus panopoly. We are seeking your guidance on legal matters, needless to say this is highly confidential information I am about to share, if any of this gets out we will know exactly where the leak is, you can guarantee that”. I was recording with a field mic, he went on “As you have heard we are looking to introduce a new lifetime guarantee for our information subtraction operations. We are looking to build in a Final clause, one that we will vigorously lobby for. We see information as not something attached to a particular person, we see it rather like oxygen, none of us own this substance, not even the breather, therefore it is an open source material. This we feel should be the new basis of our information strategy. Therefore we are looking to introduce a final clause to implement a ceaseless subtraction of our users without any get out” I looked at my recorder I knew I had something groundbreaking. After it finished I waited a while to exit the room, in fact I saw the gentleman further down the hall, I almost saw the question mark rise above his head however an incoming call distracted him from further pursuing his curiosity.

I’m not sure what was driving me towards this new life as a whistleblower, I didn’t question my reasons, it was a course that carved out itself by the magnitude of the information, but maybe there was some reflection missing on my part. Anyway I wanted to strike while the iron was hot, the world couldn’t wait on this information so the next day I left for the Guardian Newspaper headquarters at 90 York Way. I waited at the entrance behind a pillar, I had memorised the names and faces of the main journalists I could trust, I made a note of who was coming and going. I saw one of the journalists exit the revolving doors, I checked my list and almost shouted she’s perfect! I walked from my pillar and accosted her in the street I told her I had a story for her, she seemed hassled by me “I appreciate your willingness to talk but we have official avenues in place for this sort of thing, please follow the process”. “Please you don’t understand” I pleaded “This isn’t your average story, this is about abuse of power, this is about Rictus. This could be a huge groundbreaking story for you, A Guardian exclusive”. She stopped in her tracks, visualising herself carrying the golden torch of freedom up a large hill, appearing on cascades of network interviews, signing book deals. She turned to me discreetly “Okay, meet me tomorrow at the Lebanese restaurant Taste of Beirut, here’s the address, come alone” she gave me a searching look and left, I couldn’t believe this was happening so quickly. I could barely get to sleep that night and drifted into a thin dream. I was awoken later on, not knowing exactly what had stirred me but I sensed there was something wrong in the apartment. I walked out of the bedroom and caught a light illuminating from the office and headed towards it. A strange sight welcomed me as I looked into the office. There was my Memory Ball hovering over my desk, restlessly searching for something, moving like a dragonfly with a sentience I could palpably sense, opening the drawers with its magnetism. The ball suddenly noticed I was in the hallway watching and stopped dead and we locked eyes for a couple seconds. It suddenly lunged towards me with a violence that took me off guard completely, narrowly missing my temple. I scrambled down the hallway to make it to the safety of the bedroom and slammed the door, The Memory Ball came crashing behind me. The conspiracies hit me at once, Have they surrounded the property? Would they kill me? Are the Guardian in on it? I told myself I couldn’t answer these right now and gripped the baseball bat in my hand. I timed opening the door at the exact wrong time when The Memory Ball was attempting to knock it down, it came crashing into my face. I felt my nose break and the hot stifling blood rush into my sinuses. In a pain driven rage I launched myself at the ball with the bat, smashing up lampshades, bookshelves, until I hit it flush and smashed it to pieces. I dropped my bat, collapsed on the floor and cried, my memories were forever gone from me.

I couldn’t sleep, I knew that Rictus were out there aware that I had some information on them, although may not be aware of exactly what. I knew the only way I could get out of this corner was to risk it and get this information out there, that could be my ticket to safety. I got off the Bus after numerous changes in an attempt to shake off any trail. The restaurant was a little walk away, however as I approached there were more and more people suspiciously looking at their phones, at me, back at their phones again, my nerves started to oscillate. As the restaurant came in sight I saw a thicket of people on the pavement, congregating as if waiting for something. They had their headsets over their eyes, one of them recognised me and they all turned to look right dead on. At this point I knew that I too had become part of the Rictus Challenges I had read about earlier. I guessed that their aim was to stop me getting into the restaurant, god knows how this challenge was framed on the app. What could possibly convince them to unknowingly but willingly take part in intimidation tactics? but here there they were on the pavement, as if controlled by a digital tapeworm, arms wide, yelling at me. I wanted to see how far they would go so I decided to run a circle around them, a couple broke off from the group and took chase towards me. At the point I knew that they would not countenance any failure of this challenge. I ran off down the road and kept running for a mile or so and hopped on a bus in the same direction. I was sweaty and petrified, feeling hunted down. I didn’t know who I was surrounded by, Rictus had more power than I had known, how could I have been so naive this whole time, even as their employee? As I was panting with my head resting against the bus window the most disturbing sight started to unravel outside. There were billboards passing with my face and body supplanted on them, unmistakably me. There I was waving from a McDonalds advert, winking from the golden sands of a Thomsons Holidays beach, loosening my tie for the latest Paco Robanne perfume 20ft above. This was unbelievable, what were they trying to achieve with doing this? What was their point? It took a while to calm myself but I saw quite clearly what this was, it was a message “We can make you into anything, be places you never were, at a very unfortunate time for you”, they controlled my own image, they were flaunting this power they had over me, I felt violated. On the way back my image was everywhere surreally laughing back at me. I got back to my conapt and shut myself in.

I arose as if from anaesthetic the next morning, the sky was dusk, dawn was just breaking, the somnambulant sky rolled into existence just as I did. I should be in work I thought but this was out of the question. There was something strange, the sky was different but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I was mored here, but out of a strange compulsion I felt the need to follow my fuzzy curiosity outside. There was something strange with the light, it was hanging too low, I kept on thinking there were clouds over the sun, like there was some permanent dusk inside of the globe. I was unsure what had happened to me in the night. I was looking out for my face in signs but I didn’t see it on anything, the sides of buses still had the the usual faces of satisfied customers. However out of the corner of my eye there was blip, I swore one of the animated store signs lurched towards me. I jumped and thought what the hell was that? But it resumed its normal cheery animation. I kept on with the walk I’m not sure why, something had changed I kept repeating. The buzzing started to rise. I caught the tube and things really began to change. The holograms illuminating the walls glitched disruptively. Cities these days are full of holograms, I never knew just how much they have permeated the city until I ascended out of the tube that day and stood in horror at the demented chorus above me. Adverts were suppurating with iridescent lesions, popping under the pressure. Figures had holes burning out of their abdomens, some screaming drowning in the suffocating cathode seas. I looked at pedestrians as they walked by, but they were in another world. I had come to another plane of existence, one purely curated by Rictus. Every holographic image I came in contact with was sullied, images bleeding into one another with horrifying freedom, from that day onwards no image was pure. Each image, even internal, a memory, a lifeless object, fornicated pointlessly together. The days afterwards preceded with visual intensity but at the same time an amnesia began to descend like impenetrable fog, which made it hard to plan my next movements. I knew I had a problem as the desire to go back into my Memory Ball became all-consuming. At this point I knew that the destruction of the Memory Ball had weakened me fatally. I didn’t know there were any side effects from pure technology but I knew something had left when my memories stored in there, were scattered to the wind.