The Weekend

The year is 2383. If you are anyone with any galactic credits or fame to your name you would be off-world. The only humans left on Earth are the microbial trash dwellers, corporate management, or an employee. A corporation by the name of “Omnis” is the sole business left in operation on the planet. They were granted the rights to monopoly after all other companies had retreated to other planetary and solar systems. A monopoly was the only way a corporation could survive on Earth in the year 2383.

The ethics of Omnis were practically non-existent. However for those poor hopeless souls left behind on the now gray rock, Omnis offered some sort of benefit. Before Omnis, the remaining humans had to devolve to an animalistic barter system. Clans would rule the trash heaps of Earth. Only the strong would survive. The barter system only had three things to trade; food, sex, and blood. Those that wanted an escape from the barbaric lifestyle among the trash heaps would apply for employment at Omnis.

Employment is a light way of saying indentured servitude. That is really what it was to be an employee there. Omnis dealt in one service and one service only. Blockchain virtual reality fantasy for the wealthy but sick minded off-world elites. Business was booming, and there weren’t enough trash dwellers to meet the galactic demand of pixelated prostitution.

Every employee would have to mine so many transactions before they were granted a weekend. No employee was allowed to sleep. Omnis employee’s had implants placed in the back of their spine just above the shoulders. Corporate would pump employees with dopamine or adrenaline harvested from terminated employees anytime production was down.

X4-008T and 7R-9003 were two employees who had been with Omnis, since their start-up. Their implant models were older and had glitches in them. There were a few moments during Earth’s rotation, where the satellite uplink to their implants cut out. The two would be able to talk freely to one another during this time. This social interaction was only enjoyed by the two and no one else. Of course corporate was unaware of the glitch. The HR program would be overloaded to run its algorithms on low production employees.

X4-008T and 7R-9003, ended up giving each other names. It was more personable and easier to communicate rather than their corporate serial codes. “X” went by Xavier, and “7R” went by Sev.

“How many more transactions till you get your weekend?” - Xavier

“Only three.” - Sev

“Wow, good for you man. You’ll be able to take a weekend before next glitch cycle.” - Xavier

Every employee worked hard to get their production of transaction verification up in order to gain the coveted “Weekend”. The company had a revitalized oasis at the center of their headquarters. It was said to be how Earth originally was before the turn of the millennium.

Sev and Xavier had matched productivity, but had always taken their weekends at different times. Sev was ready for another break. That must have been his motivation for getting his “weekend” reward early before the glitch cycle. Both Xavier and Sev believed that the “weekend” was the only event where employees were unplugged in order to enjoy a few days of actually being a human being again, for whatever that is worth.

Sev initiated his weekend request the second he got it. Corporate managers came to detach Sev and led him to the oasis for his two days of weekend. It was paradise. There was grass, waterfalls, fresh food, and Bali ball. Bali ball was a sport similar to roller ball and cricket combined. It was played by upper level managers. Sev wished he could just retire in the Oasis.

One day into Sev’s weekend, the satellite interface cycled the Earth into the dark spot for a few hours. The glitch allowed Xavier to become conscious of actual reality. He wasn’t looking forward to it this time. He knew Sev would be enjoying his weekend inside the Oasis, or so he thought. A few seconds after gaining conscious, Xavier looked over to find Sev sitting Indian style still hooked up. His implant connection was glowing neon blue in a spiraled pulse. His head was tilted all the way back as if it had fallen backwards from its own weight. His eyes were rolled all the way back to only show the blood shot whites of his eyeballs.

In that moment, Xavier knew that they were just biological disposable hardware to the Omnis corporation. Thirty minutes later, Sev would wake up to find a desolate Xavier staring off into hopelessness. Xavier told Sev about what he saw. The two contemplated over the next few hours of the glitch, whether it was better to be a trash dweller or an employee. They both decided that being a slave to an A.I. ran company was no life to live.

Before the glitch ended, both X4-008T and 7R-9003 unplugged from their implant. The detachment meant immediate termination from Omnis. The robots called “management” came to collect the terminated employee’s bodies to process them for harvesting. The chemicals left in their bodies were pumped back into low production employees, thus keeping the dystopian cycle alive.

Enjoy your weekend.

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