Waltons World: Chapter Nine

 I walked a few steps behind Allison, opting to give her some space. She kept her eyes forward and her arms out, supporting herself on the office chair she was pushing. We'd torn the HDMI cables from the TV's and fashioned them into bindings to keep Doctor Prendick in the chair. I had used my knot-tying skills from Boy Scouts to make some bindings I was quite proud of and had felt it was best to make myself scarce while Allison's most recent memory of us was being useful. 

"So how," Allison said, continuing her interrogation as we walked, "Does a think tank designed to come up with fake studies to sell products get into AI-powered murder cameras and turning people into zombies."

"I think all of that is a mischaracterization of our work. Take a right here."

We turned, one of the benefits of taking Prendick with us is that he had made his way through seasonal enough times to know the paths in and out, which he was happy to share with us, much to my surprise. Actually, much to, I suspect, Allison's surprise, he was pretty open about everything. 

"Yes, this is the right way. Anyway, the AARS is a publicly funded institution, and we've always been interested in maximizing the public good."

"And telling people that red bull helps them age better is conducive to the public good, is it?"

"Ah!" Prendick said, trying to hold up a finger. "I recall that study, Taurine, it's an amino acid found in meats and shellfish. Low Taurine levels in certain species are shown to increase the aging process, so we conducted experiments that found that taurine supplements can help reduce aging and energy drinks are often fortified with taurine."

"And from that, you say that energy drinks can cure Alzheimer’s."

"We simply produce the results in our department." Prendick said, "We're research and development. Public Relations writes the headlines. Left up here. 

"And how does any of this aid the public good?" Allison asked. 

"Well, the idea behind Project Headley was simple enough, imagine if security cameras didn't just record crimes, but could intervene? Why just watch a crime take place after the fact? The whole reason we have trials is because we so rarely catch someone in the act."

"I don't think that's right..." I said under my breath.

"So it's not enough that the robots have taken our manufacturing, writing, and art jobs," Allison said "You're now outsourcing the role of judge, jury, and executioner."

"But isn't it the perfect deterrent?" Prendick said, excitedly. "Who would take the risk of robbing a store if there was a guarantee of swift reprisal?"

Allison let the question hang in the air before replying. 

"Do you know what a Lictor was, in ancient Rome?" 

"Oh, I was never one for history." Prendick said "I've always been more excited by what's possible in the future than focusing on the past."

"In the roman empire, a Lictor would attend to magistrates, judges, as they walked the streets. A magistrate could point to any citizen, and the Lictor would carry out any sentence the Magistrate would hand down. The lictor was armed with a bundle of sticks for minor punishments, and an axe, to carry out swift executions."

Allison let this sit for a moment. 

"That bundle, and the axe, together, are called fasces. A term which has carried into our modern age as the ideology known as fascism."

"Uhm..." Prendick said "You know, Lictor would be a better name for this than Project Headley..."

Allison spun the chair to face him. 

"Did you ever stop to consider the ethical ramifications of what it was you were building?" Allison said, "Did you ever consider what it might mean to live in a world where every crime carried an immediate death penalty?"

Prendick sat. 

"I mean, we did..." Prendick said.

"And you still, did it?" Allison said, standing back up to her full height. 

"Well, we had our concerns," he said, "so we published what we were doing, sent our budget requests to congress, we were very open about the whole thing. We figured, if it was really that bad an idea, someone would surely say something."

"And no one did?" I said, stunned.

"Well, there were a few protests, and op-eds condemning the project, but no one in power."

Allison spun the chair back around and continued pushing. 

"Anyway, Walton's reached out and said they were interested in enrolling in the pilot program, and we needed the funding."

"I thought you were publicly funded."

"Yes, we are, well, will be, where?" Prendick turned his head back in the chair to look towards me "Is congress any closer to passing a budget this month?"

"Congress is still fighting over who's going to be the 29th supreme court justice." Allison said.

"Ah, then, yes, we've been needing to acquire additional sources of funding, and Waltons has been more than happy to fund our research."

Prendick looked around.

"Could you give me a quick spin, I can't tell if we need to turn up here or keep going."

Allison gave the chair a hefty shove and stepped back as it spun around a few times before she stepped forward and stopped it."

"Oh, dear, me..." he said, head spinning, "Uhm, yeah, keep going, then a right at the next junction. 

I picked up my pace to stand next to Allison as we walked. 

"Who is Denise?" I asked. 

"Hmmm." Prendick hummed. "Yes, I think that one's a little harder to explain."

"That's the part of this that's hard to justify, is it?" Allison said.

"No, it's just, we started Project Headley before our partnership with Walton's World, but, since Walton's initiated our research into this, I don't know if I'm allowed to disclose anything about it." Prendick looked up "I'm not sure if you know this, but Walton's Non-Disclosure Agreements need to be signed in blood."

I rubbed the tip of my index finger, still smarting from my orientation. 

"We're aware," I said, suddenly struck with inspiration. "Actually, as Walton's employees, we're also under NDA, meaning we are party to certain privileged information."

"True, I just think this may be a bit above your pay grade..."

Allison let go of the chair, grabbed her cane, placed it over Prendick’s neck, and pulled back, bringing the chair to a sickening halt and she tried her best to crush his windpipe. I stepped forward and looked back as his hands struggled against the restraints, his eyes bulged as he gasped against the cane, thrashing around in his seat. 

"I think he gets it, Allison." I said.

She kept the cane in its position."

"Allison," I said, taping my foot, "I think he's convinced."

Allison waited a few more seconds, then released the cane. Prendick leaned forwards and wheezed, coughing as his breath returned.

I frowned at Allison.

"Don't look at me like that, Patterson." She said,

I looked down at Prendick. 

"So anyway," I said, "about Denise."

"Yes," Prendick coughed, "About Denise." 

He sat up in his chair. "Denise is an unfortunate side effect of some behavioral testing we've been conducting."

"Behavioral testing?" Allison said. 

"Yes," Prendick continued as we began pushing the chair again. 

"See, it's a foundation of economics that people respond to incentives, react to stimuli. If you're hungry, you buy something to eat, when you're thirsty, you buy something to drink."

"Sure," I said. 

"But what happens when needs are met?" Prendick said. 

"Then people buy based on wants." Allison said.

"Exactly." Prendick said "And wants are a fickle thing. We all have the same needs, are you familiar with Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs?"

"Sure," I said. "The bottom is food, water, shelter, then second is safety, health, third is connection, fourth is freedom, and at the top is self-actualization."

Allison looked at me, then shrugged approvingly.

"That's an acceptable simplification." Prendick said "But in essence, yes."

"And a store can really only work to serve those first two levels." Allison said, "You can't buy meaningful friendships, self-respect, or a sense of self-actualization." 

"Ah!" Prendick exalted, "But what if you didn't need those? Here, take another left and we'll be out."

Allison stopped the chair. 

"What do you mean?" Allison said, walking back to the front of the chair, I followed, looking down at Prendick.

"What would you call a person who doesn't need anything that can't be bought at a store?" Prendick said, smiling ear to ear. 

"Imagine it." He smiled "You would never feel lonely, never feel let down, never feel like you aren't living up to your potential, you would never have to feel that way again? Imagine if that little thrill you get from buying something could actually take away all the bad feelings you had?"

Allison and I shared a look.

"That sounds like a god damned nightmare," Allison said.

"Does it?" Prendick said "Doctor Rodriguez?"

Allison stiffened; I couldn't help but snap my focus to her as her face reddened. 

"I would have thought you, of all people, could appreciate not feeling like you're not living up to your potential."

Allison closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a deep breath before continuing. 

"So how did you do it?" Allison said, grabbing the chair and continuing to push.

"It's a simple reconditioning of the cerebral cortex." Prendick said, "Now, you can enjoy the same rush one gets from spending an evening with friends simply by purchasing the Friends box set. Respect and freedom are intangible goods, but a new chair isn't, buy it? Why create art when you can have custom art made for you?"

"I think I'm starting to see how this goes horribly wrong." Allison said.

"Ah, yes, well..." Prendick said "There is the issue that, as it turns out, the higher on the scale of needs, the higher the reward chemical. A constant stream of simulated self-actualization starts to dull the sense after a while. Suddenly that rush you get from purchasing something just isn't the same."

"And that makes you kill crazy?" I asked. 

"Well, that doesn't, no." Prendick said "But we did have to reduce the sense of empathy that the test subjects experienced."

"Of course you did." Allison sighed. 

"Well, social media has done a great job of ruining so much of the fun of shopping." Prendick said "How can you enjoy this new shirt when you learn that there's a thousand pounds of the same shirt lying in a landfill down in Chile? the joy of that new phone is tainted when you see that the factory it was made in collapsed, and a suspicious number of children happened to have been pulled from the rubble."

"And your solution to this problem was to make it so that people cared less." Allison said, "Rather than try and address these issues in the supply chain?"

"Well, yes!" Prendick said, "Messing with the minds of volunteers is easy, but there's much less money to be made in reducing child labor."

I felt sick as we rolled our way out of Seasonal and back into the broad expanse of apparel. Ahead of us to the right was a cold glow emanating from the refrigerated goods. To our left the warm glow of the easterners, regathering their forces. Ahead of us lay the south tower, dark and uninviting on the edge of the lifeless skyline of the furniture section. Directly ahead of us lay a long, straight path, the road to the utility room. 

"There it is," Allison sighed. 

I looked down at Prendick, then up to her. 

"What should we do with him now?" 

Allison sighed. 

"I don't know." She said "Frankly, I don't care. Part of me is content to just leave him here for Denise."

"Ah," Prendick said "That would be a very ironic way to go."

"Won't that, I don't know, make us as bad as him?" I asked.

Allison looked at him, then at me without saying a word.

"I mean," I continued "No one's going to tell us that it's wrong to leave him here, but it just feels wrong, so maybe, we just follow what we think is right, instead of waiting to be told what’s right."

Allison tapped her cane. 

"I see your point." She said, "Counterpoint, killing him feels like a good way to satisfy one of my Maslow's needs." 

In the darkness, under the pale light of the moon and stars, I thought I saw a hint of an ironic smile.

"I can never tell if you're being serious." I said. 

"I get that a lot." Allison said. She sighed and put her free hand on her hip.

"If we let you go." She said, "What would you do?"

"Probably head back to the control room." He said, "See if Doctor Wells has made any progress in..." 

His sentence was punctuated by the warble of an arrow as it embedded itself in the headrest of the chair, having passed first through the better part of Doctor Prendick's skull.