THE WAR OF CIVLAR
By Isuru Abeysinghe
Copyright 2009 Isuru Abeysinghe
This free ebook may be copied, distributed, reposted, reprinted and shared, provided it appears in its entirety without alteration, and the reader is not charged to access it.
ISBN: 9781476262529 REV: 2
*****
INTRODUCTION
The year is 2250.
Post holocaust.
Humanity's once expansive civilizations have been laid to waste, a victim of their own innovations, desires and foolhardy concepts of progress. The first cataclysm was an ideological war between factions that, although adhered to largely the same principals and structure, were separated by a rift in mythology and scripture. This was syntax, not semantics. However, those at the top knew that this rift was simply a front, since the real situation concerning mankind then was that of overpopulation and the dwindling of resources. As it was and ever will be politically incorrect to fight wars based on the simple principal of supply and demand, increasing extremism on both sides and the polarizations of the so-called ideologies were pumped to the masses as the sole reason for their respective struggles.
Despite this lack, technology continued to advance on both sides, spurred on by the real and present danger of being subjugated and persecuted should the other side win. Atrocities piled on top of atrocities and a complete ban on communication meant that the separate civilizations eventually no longer considered the other side as human.
However, as to the subject of downfall, the war was not the cause.
To sustain an ever increasing need for resources, scientists had pulled out the safeguards and checkpoints that regulated the progress of technology. Thus, a combination of genetic mutations, caused by medical advances that cured diseases through altering DNA coupled with rouge nano-machines that had also evolved, mechanically as opposed to biologically, wreaked havoc on the balance of nature and toppled human beings from the top of the predatory pyramid on Earth.
Today, the expanses of the globe have been rendered largely uninhabitable. To venture outside of a protected zone, sealed off by the massive infrastructure projects that isolated humans with their own air, food and water (known as the 'Domes') would mean certain death.
But there is still war.
CHAPTER 1: THE INTERROGATION
Eva sat in her prison cell contemplating her outcome. Dressed in plain white overalls, imbued with the latest Civlarian advances in self-cleaning clothes, she had prepared herself for a belligerent onslaught from her captors. To her surprise, her hair had not been cut, nor her personal possessions removed. To this point she felt a glimmer of hope that she would be processed in some fashion akin to humanity – but she didn't really know anything about this place and the people.
Looking around her she noticed her small room was fitted with a television, food dispensers and other facilities. None of that seemed strange, apart from the television. She hadn't turned it on since the time she had been in the room, largely due to a concern against the most powerful tactic that her enemy would now use against her – persuasion. The priests had warned her about the corrupting influences of Civlar, the bribery of human morals, and their eventual implications.
The door opens and a middle aged man appears. Like the guards at the prison itself, he is dressed in outlandish and extravagant attire. At first she thought this would be just another guard but she knew full well that there is no discernible way of determining the rank of Civlarian officials. With a green Mohawk and a leather jacket promoting bizarre symbolized concepts, she could be forgiven for thinking that he was indeed just a guard. However, as he began to speak, it became clear to her that there was more underfoot.
“Well, I suppose you think you are in for an arduous process. I would like to allay your concerns right now regarding this matter,” the man states in an official voice. “I only have a few statements to make to you. A few simple statements. You will then make a decision regarding how you want to proceed with the information I shall impart on you,” he begins.
Eva sat silently, apparently the program of persuasion was about to begin.
“Firstly, let me say that you will not be harmed physically and will not be interfered with sexually. This is a standard statement,” he continues, taking a small swig from a glass of water he had brought with him.
“What's in that, drugs?” Eva asks defiantly. If she was going to be interfered with mentally, she might as well put up the indication that she would start fighting now.
“I assure you that I am at this present time not encumbered by any mind altering substance...” states the man, cut short by Eva's sarcastic laughter. The man is unphased by this, but realized that he will need to change his tactic. For the first time in his career as a military negotiator – time was of the essence.
“Since you have made a gesture that you do not believe that statement that I have made, I will now proceed to empirically prove my point. In you training, you should be aware that the longest lasting of our available recreational substances has a lifespan of three days. I will sit here for three days or until such a time as you are satisfied that I am telling the truth.”
Three days pass with only, sitting, staring, eating and taking toilet breaks.
The man and woman are still in the room. Neither has said a word. Their respectively advanced training allows them to control their minds, their boredoms and desires.
“Fine” Eva remarks with disgust.
“Shall I continue?” the man implores, satisfied that Eva will now be more likely to cooperate. He takes a long, protracted breath and begins his speech:
“Our intelligence has confirmed that you are in possession of some information that could greatly assist our efforts in removing the threat to our sovereignty. I refer obviously to the XYZ-21 prototype encryption algorithm. To put it bluntly, we require you to divulge the coordinates of the laboratory that houses the development team. Naturally, we understand that you are not inclined, providing you profession, and” - he paused to smile wryly - “philosophy, to co-operate with our demands.”
“So you're going to torture me?” Eva says with a hint of fear, feigned to a certain extent based on her desire to draw out the process. She knows that her people were soon going to make use of what she had discovered. After the words escaped her mouth she has realized her supposed mistake. The man had revealed now that the enemy has known of the algorithm, but she also knew that there would be scant evidence linking her with her own discovery. She would need to somehow conceal her reactionary question and play the role of a simple technician which she had professed on capture.
“No”, the man replies succinctly.
“Rape me then?” she snaps. She was half serious; although her knowledge of Civlarian society was rudimentary she knew that it was a place where there were no rules and no morals. While the outburst was again instigated by emotion, she also felt relieved that she had responded in a manner more befitting of a lower ranking individual.
“Although I have the equipment lady, I am not that way inclined,” retorts the man, aiming to be equally provocative but now beginning to show the first signs of frustration.
A short silence falls on the two as the man shuffles papers from briefcase and appears to read from the materials within.
“Here is your choice. Our civil society forbids the application of coercion and torture. We know that it will take at least three additional days to roll out the algorithm and corresponding hardware to your servers. As you might understand, the strategic advantage of having complete information confidentiality from our enemy, while at the same time having our most advanced cyphers capable of being cracked within 72 hours would burden us with a strategic disadvantage that would certainly lose
us the war.”
“You are an idiot. You are telling me this?” she laughs. “We knew it was good, but I never thought it was that good... now why in the name of our holy Aesuth would I proceed to divulge this information? And what would make you believe that I am indeed in possession of it?”
At this point, she breaks out into almost uncontrollable laughter, echoing through the room. During this process, the man waits patiently and expressionlessly for her to stop, which, as with all sane people eventually happens.
“Your fabricated concept of Aesuth is of no relevance to this discussion.”
“Then what do you have as leverage? You really must be drug fucked!”
As she swears, her smile dissipated, sorry for the use of foul language.
“I am fully cognizant of the fact that in your warped perception of reality death to you is like some kind of fantasy holiday. Never ending. Therefor to threaten you with death would be the height of futility, and thus illogical. But I assure you, that despite your delusions, the universe does not bend itself to your will, nor to your imaginary friend. Just like me, prisoner, you are a biological machine. Fashioned out of the forces of random permutation and evolution. Life is inevitable, not a miracle, for the universe is infinite and any event, no matter how unlikely, must come to pass against infinite opportunity. This is basic mathematics and I laugh at the premise that a trained mathematician could fail to see this simple fact.”
“Our Aesuth does not observe the rules of your limited and superficial understanding of the universe. He can change whatever he likes,” she responds.
For the first time a different emotion begins to appear of the woman’s face, anger as opposed to contempt. Now she was ready to unleash against the onslaught she had prepared for during her capture and imprisonment.
“Aesuth is a construction of your administration. This fictional entity serves only the purposes of your belligerent and corrupt religion. No, allow me to correct myself. Not your religion but the perverted monsters at the head of it. Men. Endowed with no supernatural powers or abilities apart from that of seducing weak minded idiots into believing fantasies in order to subjugate their will the their sick own bidding!” spurts the man, reciprocating Eva's anger.
Anger, instead of neutrality is not considered good form during negotiations – but once again he is reminded of the time constraints pertaining to this particular problem.
“It is the desire of the criminally insane to exercise control over other human beings - to deprive them of their free will, the only aspect of humanity that is ... in your perverse terminology... “Holy” - and what, may I ask, becomes of such controls? Pain. Pain is the antithesis of all that is right. The pain of dissidents being brutally suppressed. The inequity of your civilization which classifies its inhabitants based on their readiness to suck the cocks of those more powerful than them, deeming subhuman all those that chose to think differently – despite the fact that these poor people do not interfere with your own perception of life but simply want to think on an individual basis. All forms of intelligence are sacred and can't be caged in order to perpetuate your supposed notion of utopia.”
“May I ask a question?” chides Eva sarcastically – now clearly confident that her diversionary tactics would be easily applied to this individual. He seemed to be doing most of the talking and wasting most of the time himself.
“It's a free universe.” the man replies.
“When you give an order to your soldiers, do they not obey? Do they not risk their lives to sustain your own, sick will - And this is the perverted will of a Man – in your own admission. What moral derelict would consider the selfish will of a man to be superior to that of the all mighty and benevolent Aesuth?”
She continues -
“You society relishes in the selfish, the sick pursuit of pleasure. It is the greater part of us to relinquish this urge and serve the greater good. And yet, despite your perceived notions of individual freedoms you will send your men and women to die so that you may sustain your own power. For that you will burn in Hell. Where is your logic now in the face of this glaring contradiction?”
He considers his response for a moment. Her rhetoric was starting to become as he suspected: more advanced than a mere technician. However, this thought also filled him with dread – since if his notion was right then he would have to bring himself to perform an act so contrary to his own beliefs that it made him sick. He certainly hoped that it would not come to that.
“There is no contradiction. While we in our civilization fully appreciate that life is meaningless without pleasure, it is also highly un-pragmatic to act as individuals in every instance. This is especially true when regimented monsters like you are around trying to subjugate all forms of individuality! The men and women who serve for me know that they face death, and therefore a premature termination of their ability to perceive life. But they are faced with a choice; to militarize, follow orders and fight as a group or be enslaved by your own sick kind! They have wives and children who they would prefer not to be raised to perform the automaton like sequences of your theocratic philosophy. They would prefer them not to be tortured into submission. They would prefer them not to be blown up by your suicide bombers, the most sick and deluded of your entire bunch!” he bursts, slamming the table with frustration.
“And we have wives and children that we would prefer not to go to Hell,” came the retort.
To this the man produces a long and protracted sigh, considered defeated by Eva but known to be ominous by the man. Her only psychological hook was Hell – quite standard of the enemy.
“So, you fear Hell? I am actually counting on this....” trails the man, now staring blankly into space.
Puzzled, the woman shoots a glance. This was the first surprising thing she had heard through the process.
“Although it sickens me, your concept of Hell, where a person will suffer perpetually, for a finite amount of crime... and, let's face it, you people use the term very loosely, is something that is not completely devoid of fact. You see, everything you experience is a result of chemical and electrical structures in the biological machine that is your brain and body. While you mythological concept of Hell is a pure fantasy, the idea of invoking it artificially is actually achievable and within the technology that we have today.”
“You said you were not going to torture me,” she replies with a grin – not aware of the gravity of her situation.
“You, unfortunately, are an exceptional case. It's just bad luck, but partly you are to blame for taking the paths that have allowed you, through your complicity of evil and willingness to serve those that propagate it, to become a very regrettable exception to the rule. We have developed the technology to create, well for lack of a better term – ultimate pain. Normally, our previous simulations on bio-synth processors have yielded the same result. The receptors that feel the pain themselves get eaten out, rendering our system unworkable within a couple of days. Our simulations also show that given a maximum resistance quotient, a human being is capable of resisting protected information for about that long and naturally the system becomes less and less effective the longer that it is applied...”
Colonel Thraetium had overseen this project himself. It involved two components – the first was a chemical and electrical stimulation of the brain with a powerful drug – coupled with another potent drug which was a neuroprotector. Although never tested on an actual human being or for that matter an animal, he knew that the science behind it would work. The neuroprotector was a more advanced version of another drug that was used in medicine, mainly to reconstruct the pleasure centers of those citizens that had overindulged... and the bio-synth computers were capable of completely simulating a human brain and its reactions with chemicals. In theory it would work – but he secretly hoped that it didn't.
“So, in effect you plan to deprive me of me free will?” the smile had faded from her face half way through the Colonel's speech. She waited with stony-faced
anticipation for reply.
“It is an exception to the rule but although we are benevolent, we must be pragmatic first. Your choice is simple – provide the information willingly, or undergo the procedure. I think I have already established a reputation that I do not lie.”
“And your civil society accepts this action?” Eva spurts with disgust.
“Our civil society does not know.”