Date: 26
Author: Atlas
As the first flakes of snow have descended upon the streets of the city and orders have been given to have our winter gear and equipment ready for use before the end of the month.
There has been no evidence in increased agitator activity since the commencement of the snowfall. Albeit it may render our vehicles unusable until the necessary material has been provided from the capital. Until then orders have been given to cease civilian flight from the airport and to have ploughs clean the landing ways twice a day.
Small amounts of propaganda were collected and burned in accordance with directive 19-32 of disturbing written material published without the state's consent.
Personal notes:
None
---
E-mail to Ms Metis, Metropolis
From: Mr Atlas
To: Ms Metis
Subject: Re: Re Memories
How nostalgic the first sight of a snowflake slowly descending towards the
ground made me feel. It had been winter as I arrived at the outskirts of the
capital.
How I long to see the magnificent capital once again. Although I fear that
maybe the clouds of nostalgia are betraying me, that the capital is nothing
more than a grey compound of industries, humans and machines living in
symbiosis. That there as there is here poverty, destitute and crime to be
found below the glistering surface.
Indeed you have been away from home a long time. Though, when I read your
lines I feel like you are somehow portraying the capital as mechanical, yet it
stirs with life as ever before. Yet the investments have ceased and in
fortnight we will face unemployment and has no choice but to return to Zone 1.
I must confess I that the thought of returning home has stricken me. Along with the help of our friends we should be able to mend this now so broken and beloved capital of ours. Albeit I haven't reached a decision yet, my heart remains at this time loyal to the organisation. Do not fear for you will hear from me again, soon when I have reached my decision. But until then I'll have to comprehend if this is a mere phantasy or something real.
Yours sincerely,
Atlas
Date: 3 December
Author: Atlas
We received a visitor from the capital today. It was young Rock-san who made a throughout security inspection, including going through all of our logs. Everything seemed to be in accordance except for a few gas masks of peripheral importance that are currently unaccounted for. Other than that our efforts to restrain guerrilla activity was praised.
Personal notes, encrypted
--
As soon as the word spread that Rock-san was arriving some of us were immediately ordered to go out on the streets and arrest agitators or guerrilla fighters. The had been a brief note about a commander being executed due to showing too poor results in the gazette not to long ago. Apparently she had not 'captured nor retired' a sufficient amount of people. There had been rumours of her innocence. Some claimed that she had been the victim of some obnoxious misogynist's perverse ways. Or even that she had indeed retired all of the robots in her sector in well-worked out cleansing operations and that the remaining population was civilians, albeit some of them dissatisfied or downright angry towards the Marduk but still no riots or guerrillas were among them. But that the organisation, confronted with this, had not spared her life.
Thusly as I've mentioned, some of us were instantly dispatched and our number one priority became to arrest and detain suspected agitators and guerrilla fighters. There were also reminders of what grim fait awaited those who dared to commit treason in any way and I know I wasn't the only one to shudder at the thought of that.
Layabouts, librarians, orphans and random men were arrested. They were officially accused of conspiracy towards the Marduk organisation and thereby planning to commit actions that would break the cease-fire agreement agreed on in the aftermath of the war - everything in accordance with the martial law that had been, and still is in effect since then in the exclave.
But as Rock-san witnessed how the detainees part in this life where shortened in order to impress him he only looked aloof. He did not give the impression that he despised my superiors futile and botched attempts to show efficiency, but that he was nonchalant to what was taking place before his eyes. As the gunfire lit up the room I could swear that for a split second I could see through his coal black shades and spot a black look in those icy eyes of his; a black look aimed towards my sycophantic superiors. The same superiors who were now joyfully shouting orders to the marksmen, hence wasting Rock's time. These people dying didn't change anything, and I felt that the look in his eyes confirmed my thoughts.
Ironically I thought, this wouldn't likely have taken place at all if it had not been for him being here. And why was he here? In order for us to remember who were in charge; that the Duke's organisation had his eyes on us in back in the capital, no doubt. We all knew it, yet no one spoke of it.
In that very moment I felt if it we were like a plague, a virus. Carefully constructed by some wicked scientists for reasons beyond our comprehension. That we were lost sheep, guided by a mysterious shepherd of whom authority we did not dream of ever oppugning. That the wickedness carried out through us was somehow justified due to the fact that our actions originated from a single fugleman's whishes; that we were following orders. Being good soldiers.
'He flexed his muscles to keep his flock of sheep in line
He made a virus that would kill off all the swine
His perfect kingdom of killing, suffering and pain
demands devotion atrocities done in his name'
As I stood there amongst the others who had also been ordered to attend in the echelon. I suddenly felt contempt. Contempt towards the organisation which I had been with for so long, I felt it grow inside me like a freshly planted sea. The organisation didn't shudder a moment to rape, loot or even murder normal people totally indifferent in the face of whether they were innocent or not. People who went to work everyday in order to put food on their plates, normal people who did exactly as I'd done myself when I was in their shoes.
Not that I care a moment for these souls, but I am filled with rage when I witness how we waste our efforts. The robots are overflowing the capital, sneaking upon every corner, waiting for their chance to create havoc and ruination of civilisation as we know it. Yet the government is indifferent to this threat evolving in front of its nose, blinded and mislead by the plutocrats.
My comrades have all sewn their eyes shut, become shells, empty vessels. My once so optimistic allies have grown nihilistic. Being robbed of their salad days, like confused children who have bit by bit come to the realisation that the sinister boy who borrowed their candy-bar isn't ever coming back. Only now that this time they are the sinister boy, and that things it may never be the same. Thus they cannot and refuse to return to the capital as mere rapists, thieves, murderers and torturers. For that is what they have become.
---
Author's note: The quote is from the song Heresy written by Michael Trent Reznor.
Author: Atlas
As the first flakes of snow have descended upon the streets of the city and orders have been given to have our winter gear and equipment ready for use before the end of the month.
There has been no evidence in increased agitator activity since the commencement of the snowfall. Albeit it may render our vehicles unusable until the necessary material has been provided from the capital. Until then orders have been given to cease civilian flight from the airport and to have ploughs clean the landing ways twice a day.
Small amounts of propaganda were collected and burned in accordance with directive 19-32 of disturbing written material published without the state's consent.
Personal notes:
None
---
E-mail to Ms Metis, Metropolis
From: Mr Atlas
To: Ms Metis
Subject: Re: Re Memories
How nostalgic the first sight of a snowflake slowly descending towards the
ground made me feel. It had been winter as I arrived at the outskirts of the
capital.
How I long to see the magnificent capital once again. Although I fear that
maybe the clouds of nostalgia are betraying me, that the capital is nothing
more than a grey compound of industries, humans and machines living in
symbiosis. That there as there is here poverty, destitute and crime to be
found below the glistering surface.
Indeed you have been away from home a long time. Though, when I read your
lines I feel like you are somehow portraying the capital as mechanical, yet it
stirs with life as ever before. Yet the investments have ceased and in
fortnight we will face unemployment and has no choice but to return to Zone 1.
I must confess I that the thought of returning home has stricken me. Along with the help of our friends we should be able to mend this now so broken and beloved capital of ours. Albeit I haven't reached a decision yet, my heart remains at this time loyal to the organisation. Do not fear for you will hear from me again, soon when I have reached my decision. But until then I'll have to comprehend if this is a mere phantasy or something real.
Yours sincerely,
Atlas
Date: 3 December
Author: Atlas
We received a visitor from the capital today. It was young Rock-san who made a throughout security inspection, including going through all of our logs. Everything seemed to be in accordance except for a few gas masks of peripheral importance that are currently unaccounted for. Other than that our efforts to restrain guerrilla activity was praised.
Personal notes, encrypted
--
As soon as the word spread that Rock-san was arriving some of us were immediately ordered to go out on the streets and arrest agitators or guerrilla fighters. The had been a brief note about a commander being executed due to showing too poor results in the gazette not to long ago. Apparently she had not 'captured nor retired' a sufficient amount of people. There had been rumours of her innocence. Some claimed that she had been the victim of some obnoxious misogynist's perverse ways. Or even that she had indeed retired all of the robots in her sector in well-worked out cleansing operations and that the remaining population was civilians, albeit some of them dissatisfied or downright angry towards the Marduk but still no riots or guerrillas were among them. But that the organisation, confronted with this, had not spared her life.
Thusly as I've mentioned, some of us were instantly dispatched and our number one priority became to arrest and detain suspected agitators and guerrilla fighters. There were also reminders of what grim fait awaited those who dared to commit treason in any way and I know I wasn't the only one to shudder at the thought of that.
Layabouts, librarians, orphans and random men were arrested. They were officially accused of conspiracy towards the Marduk organisation and thereby planning to commit actions that would break the cease-fire agreement agreed on in the aftermath of the war - everything in accordance with the martial law that had been, and still is in effect since then in the exclave.
But as Rock-san witnessed how the detainees part in this life where shortened in order to impress him he only looked aloof. He did not give the impression that he despised my superiors futile and botched attempts to show efficiency, but that he was nonchalant to what was taking place before his eyes. As the gunfire lit up the room I could swear that for a split second I could see through his coal black shades and spot a black look in those icy eyes of his; a black look aimed towards my sycophantic superiors. The same superiors who were now joyfully shouting orders to the marksmen, hence wasting Rock's time. These people dying didn't change anything, and I felt that the look in his eyes confirmed my thoughts.
Ironically I thought, this wouldn't likely have taken place at all if it had not been for him being here. And why was he here? In order for us to remember who were in charge; that the Duke's organisation had his eyes on us in back in the capital, no doubt. We all knew it, yet no one spoke of it.
In that very moment I felt if it we were like a plague, a virus. Carefully constructed by some wicked scientists for reasons beyond our comprehension. That we were lost sheep, guided by a mysterious shepherd of whom authority we did not dream of ever oppugning. That the wickedness carried out through us was somehow justified due to the fact that our actions originated from a single fugleman's whishes; that we were following orders. Being good soldiers.
'He flexed his muscles to keep his flock of sheep in line
He made a virus that would kill off all the swine
His perfect kingdom of killing, suffering and pain
demands devotion atrocities done in his name'
As I stood there amongst the others who had also been ordered to attend in the echelon. I suddenly felt contempt. Contempt towards the organisation which I had been with for so long, I felt it grow inside me like a freshly planted sea. The organisation didn't shudder a moment to rape, loot or even murder normal people totally indifferent in the face of whether they were innocent or not. People who went to work everyday in order to put food on their plates, normal people who did exactly as I'd done myself when I was in their shoes.
Not that I care a moment for these souls, but I am filled with rage when I witness how we waste our efforts. The robots are overflowing the capital, sneaking upon every corner, waiting for their chance to create havoc and ruination of civilisation as we know it. Yet the government is indifferent to this threat evolving in front of its nose, blinded and mislead by the plutocrats.
My comrades have all sewn their eyes shut, become shells, empty vessels. My once so optimistic allies have grown nihilistic. Being robbed of their salad days, like confused children who have bit by bit come to the realisation that the sinister boy who borrowed their candy-bar isn't ever coming back. Only now that this time they are the sinister boy, and that things it may never be the same. Thus they cannot and refuse to return to the capital as mere rapists, thieves, murderers and torturers. For that is what they have become.
---
Author's note: The quote is from the song Heresy written by Michael Trent Reznor.