Government of One

Government of One

Shift Bio-Neurological Regulation Device #110426

Kevin Marquez: Senior Device Technician

Time Stamp: May 31st, 2047, 7:47 Am

Current Neurochemical Transmitter Composition:

• Glutamate Composition (Overall Neural Activity) - Normal
• GABA Composition (Excitement inhibitors) - High
• Dopamine (Pleasure)- Normal
• Serotonin (Wellbeing) - Average
• Oxytocin (Love & Trust) - High
• Adrenaline (Fear)- Low
• Cortisol - (Stress) Low

Mood: Calm, focused.

Action: None. User is within all tolerable ranges of neurotransmitter activity.

Access Granted

___________________________________________________

Flow Camera #4W - Parking Lot.

A sleek silver and purple car pulls onto the screen. It rides low to the ground, handling like a race car of the past. The car door shimmers out of existence revealing the long, toned legs of an attractive and fit middle aged woman. She is speaking to a person seated next to her whose face is currently hidden from view. The woman rises out of the car, a warm smile stretching across her face. Her companion, a young woman in her mid-teens, must be the woman’s daughter. They are more like one person as seen at two distinct stages of life than two individuals. The girl is tall and thin with the kind of red hair that turns heads. However, her manner is the opposite of her mother’s. Instead of a smile and excitement, a look of disgust spreads from one ear to the other.

“We’re here, honey.” Mom gestures toward the camera and the building it’s attached to. She’s glowing with excitement.

The term building is not quite accurate, but in these times, it will have to suffice. Our vocabulary has not caught up to our architectural reality. The Shift Technical Support Center is one part marvel of diamond-steel and one part tropical paradise. The offices and operating grottos blend natural features and modern construction, creating an atmosphere that can best be described as serene yet purposeful. That is after all, the entire purpose of the company.

“Great,” the daughter replies icily. “Where I get my very own mind control device!”

“Oh, Jessie, you know better.” Mom’s smile dims a touch, but doesn’t fade. “We’ve talked about this a hundred times.”

Another example of enduring human biology at odds with current breakthroughs. Teenagers and their parents still argue all the time.

Exasperated, Jessie throws her hands in the air. “How can you believe that Mom? They’re going to put something into my brain.”

Mom finally loses her temper. “It’s not mind control! Your Shift doesn’t tell you what to think or feel. It doesn’t tell you how to do it either.”

“That’s right. It only controls how MUCH I get to feel for the rest of my life.” Jessie combines a look of utter disdain with a classic teenage slump.

“But that’s a good thing,” “You weren’t alive for the Media Wars, The Trump Revolution or The Great Purge. You weren’t there when our government failed us time and time again. The Shift devices were the only solutions. Now, each of us is a government of one. Each of us is free.”

“Except for that whole mind control thing again.”

Mom sighs. “Come on. We’re already late.”

The purple and silver car shimmers, shrinking, transforming into a sleek purse that Mom wraps over her shoulder.

“You’ll see, Jessie,” Mom rests her hand on her daughter’s slouched back. “It’ll all be ok.”

“Whatever.”

Shift Bio-Neurological Regulation Device #051801

• Elizabeth Johnson: Compliance Officer, Lester Media & Entertainment
• Bio-Mother of Jessie Johnson
• Current status: Free Woman.

Time Stamp: May 31st, 2047, 9:17 AM

Current Neurochemical Transmitter Composition:

• Glutamate Composition (Overall Neural Activity - Normal
• GABA Composition (Excitement Inhibitors) - Low
• Dopamine (Pleasure) - Low
• Serotonin (Wellbeing)- Low
• Oxytocin (Love & Trust)- Normal
• Adrenaline (Fear & Excitement)- High
• Cortisol (Stress) - High

Current Mood: Anxious.

Action: Decreasing Adrenaline and Cortisol levels, raising Dopamine, Serotonin and Oxytocin levels.

New Mood: Excited. Caring.

Access Granted

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Operating Grotto #4: Camera Recording

“Welcome to Shift, Jessie. My name is Kevin. How are you?” Kevin is a tall, cadaverous man, with a receding hairline and kind, soulful brown eyes.

“Fine.” Neither Jessie’s mood nor posture have changed since the parking lot.

“Just fine?” Kevin raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t understand why I have to get this thing.” She points to her head, making a drilling motion.

Kevin is one of our best technicians. His natural calm personality and stable neural-chemistry make him the perfect go-to for our hard-to-convince patients.

“That’s perfectly normal, Jessie, but there is nothing to be worried about. I’ve installed over a thousand of these devices without a single issue.” Kevin points to a digital monitor hanging from a clouded glass wall. The display reads 1,347 in soft blue numbering. He continues, “So many young people struggle to understand why it’s necessary.”

“I’m sorry, Kevin.” Mom chimes in. “It’s been a rough few months. Honestly, I don’t know why she is fighting this so much.”

The walls of the grotto change, shifting to high resolution images, each more horrifying than its predecessor.

The Fields of Virginia : Dead bodies stretch from the foreground past the horizon. Each frozen in the rictus of death.

The Collapse of California : An aerial picture shows buildings reduced to rubble, sliding into the ocean, with a single young boy, holding onto a dog as a concrete bridge falls on their heads.

The Liars and Corrupters: A mosaic of names and faces flicker one after another, consolidating themselves into a death’s head skeleton. Obama. Trump. Sanders. Bush. Ocasio-Cortez. McConnell. Schumer. Pelosi. Murdoch. Fox. Disney. CNN.

Jessie is unimpressed. “I’ve seen all of this.” She waves her arms at the walls which produce yet more scenes of horror and despair. “I remember what Nana said.” Jessie absently fingers a heart shaped locket around her neck. “She told me that I should NEVER let anyone or anything change me. Isn’t that what this is all about? Won’t this change me?”

Mom sighs. “Your Nana was born in the mid-20th Century. Her brain had lost too many neurons. She was ineligible for a Shift device. It would have driven her crazy.”

“That’s a ringing endorsement, Mom.” The two continue their argument, their tone rising while Mom’s mood continues to darken.

A quick glance at Mom’s neurochemistry shows a sharp decline in serotonin, oxytocin and dopamine accompanied by an increase in cortisol and adrenaline. I make a few subtle adjustments. It’s wonderful when a Shift user comes into a tech center. I can make such a difference.

“You can, of course, choose not to get a Shift.” Kevin interjects. His matter of fact tone takes both mother and daughter off guard.

“Seriously?” They respond in unison.

“Of course,” He replies, with the patience of a before time middle school teacher. “This is a free society.”

Kevin lists everything Jessie should consider. Every person gets to choose whether or not they want to interact with someone who is Shift-less. Every restaurant she visits, every store she shops in, every service someone provides - they could reasonably refuse to serve her. She could be excluded from educational opportunities, from careers, from travelling. Shift-less are generally homebound.

“Most Shift-less only last for a few years before requesting a device or committing suicide.” Kevin says. “Like I said, Our society may be free, but every choice has its consequences.”

Jessie’s confusion is clear. It’s like I can hear the voice of her Nana arguing with her own self-interest. Her own teenage rebellion fighting is at war with her desire to be included. That’s why this is the perfect age to install a device. At last, she nods her head. Her shoulders slump. She looks ready to cry but refuses to let a tear fall. She looks ready to give in, but has one final salvo to fire.

“How can I call this freedom when I’m constantly oppressed by the desires of other people?”

Kevin shrugs. Mom smiles.