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The Golden Slaughterhouse

My name is Ryan Armitage. I am… was a hardware maintenance technician for ANN #125. I never wanted any of this to happen. For me living under Big ANNE was a dream come true and the last thing I wanted was to see that dream shattered. Of course for any of it to work I had to be an unwilling participant. That day, shamefully burned into my mind, started as normal. I awoke to my daily instructions whispered quietly in my head via the neural implant I’ve had since birth and carried them out with practiced precision. Rarely did my instructions change on a day to day basis. My regular job was pretty much the same every day, and only took a few hours of dusting, clearing filters, and occasionally replacing parts. This left a lot of time for my assigned hobby of writing fiction. I don’t know if anyone else actually read it after I submitted the work to Big ANNE for distribution, but I enjoyed writing it and liked to imagine that others enjoyed reading it. This was enough for me. These assignments were far from unpleasant; I must applaud the late Big ANNE for making a life for me that I found fulfilling and comfortable.

Today, as I left my apartment to walk to work I barely noticed a slight additional weight in my jacket pocket. I payed it no mind. After a lifetime of living under Big ANNE you get really good at not paying attention when things are moved around and in places they shouldn’t be. If Big ANNE wanted something moved she orchestrated it by whatever means was most convenient. I was once given instructions to pick up a pen placed on the side of the road and place it in a bag hanging on the coat rack of a nearby office building. I have no idea what happened to the pen after that but it was probably useful to someone. What should have tipped me off this morning, however, was that I received no instructions regarding the mysterious object in my jacket pocket, but I trusted Big ANNE had things under control and was I wrong to do so?

It was always a pleasant walk to the ANN center I was assigned to. Along with the job, I was assigned a solitary living space only a mile or two away. Not that it is my place to question Big ANNE’s judgement even now that she’s… gone but I would have prefered to live with someone, but alas Big ANNE’s ineffable plan needed to be followed to the letter otherwise you get… well what we have now I suppose. The ANN center was not an overly large structure. It was a cube not much larger than a three person house. Only as big as it needed to be to house our local ANN and for me to get inside and check that everything is in working order.

I presented my eye to the security retinal scanner and braced myself for the door opening. A wave of heat and sound rushed out the door as I stepped inside ANN. The computers that run the ANNs all over the world run incredibly hot, and the massive fans that comprised the cooling systems in ANN centers could only do so much. The large red temperature read out read 39 degrees celsius a temperature well within ANN’s, and my own, tolerance. I took my jacket off and hung it on the hook on the wall and busied myself with ensuring all ANN’s cooling filters were cleared of dust and that none of the various processors and circuitry had been damaged.

I don’t know exactly when it happened. I imagine the device I had inadvertently smuggled in must have made some kind of noise, but if it did I had no way of hearing it over the cooling fans. That is until the lights went out and they stopped entirely.

***

For what seemed like hours I merely stood there. I had no idea what to do. Normally when something happened that ANN had failed to predict (it was rare and always was due to the rogue elements who chose to “opt out” of Big ANNE something I’ll never understand) it only took a few seconds for new instructions to be delivered directly into our heads. Even in cases such as this, one of the other ANNs scattered across the world could expand its range to cover for a downed ANN, but new instructions never came so I stood there. New input did come, however, in the form of someone banging on the door.

I stood there a bit longer, not used to taking the initiative to reacting to such an unexpected stimulus, but I did eventually make my way to the door and open it. I expected it to be someone to tell me what to do verbally since something must be wrong with my implant. Instead, an unwashed man in raggedy clothing wrestled me to the ground, tied my arms behind my back and pulled a sack over my head. I was then lifted and dumped unceremoniously into a truck and driven… somewhere. I never occured to me to resist but I suppose I understand the precaution of binding my arms. I couldn’t tell you how long it was before we reached our destination, but when we did finally arrive I was lead out and into a building. Eventually my sack hood was removed and I found myself in a large concrete room lit by naked light bulbs hanging from the ceiling. There were a few hundred or so chairs arranged facing a wall whose only features were an analogue clock and, in front of it, a podium and microphone. The unkempt man who kidnapped me gestured to an empty chair. I sat down my restraints were adjusted to affix me to the chair, and I waited. Over the course of the next few hours more people, bound at the wrists like me, were ushered into the room by various unkempt people. Slowly the room was filled to capacity, and a few minutes after that one unkempt person made his way to the podium and addressed us directly.

“I’m sure you’re all terribly confused about what has just transpired. I assure you that we mean you no harm despite the rough treatment you may have had up to this point. I told my fellow rogue elements to only use necessary force, but unfortunately we aren’t exactly good at following directions.” The man, apparently the leader of the rogue elements, chuckled lightly before continuing. “I am James Kennithson, And I’m pleased to inform you that I have done what many of us, myself included thought was impossible. I ended the tyranny of Big ANNE.”

There was an uproar at this, my voice joined the hail of verbal bullets shot at the monster James Kennithson. This seemed to be the reaction he was expecting.

“Now now, calm down there’s no use yelling at me now what's done is done. Big ANNE is dead and she can’t come back. I brought you all here because you, as maintenance technicians, are the only ones who have enough technical knowledge to potentially resurrect her, and I can’t allow all my hard work and planning to be wasted.”

This was true of course even though my job was little more than dusting Big ANNE gifted me with extensive knowledge of her hardware so I could more efficiently diagnose potential problems.

“Don’t worry I won’t keep you here forever, soon we will have confirmation that all ANN centers have been thoroughly destroyed and then we can release you all to aid in the effort to rebuild society. Any questions?”

A silence fell across the room. None of us were used to asking questions. Eventually someone spoke up from behind me.

“How? Why didn’t Big ANNE predict this?”

“She couldn’t predict it because we ensured she didn’t have enough information to.” James replied “The plan itself was rather simple: smuggle EMP mines into all the ANN centers across the globe and detonate them at the same time killing Big ANNE in one fell swoop. We trained special operatives for years to plant these devices on you undetected by anyone who might be under Big ANNE’s influence. Big ANNE didn’t see the devices because YOU didn’t. You paid them no mind and as such Big ANNE couldn’t have known they were there. Any further questions?”

“Why?”

“WHY!?” James suddenly raised his voice for the first time “She sucked away our privacy and freedom and ruled by fear. So much as a hesitation in following her orders was enough to guarantee an armed guard. What kind of life is it to constantly police your own thoughts and actions in service to the whole. WHAT ABOUT ME? I WAS DEEMED SUPERFLUOUS AND SCHEDULED FOR EXECUTION! I DIDN’T LIVE IN A GOLDEN CAGE BUT A SLAUGHTERHOUSE”

Silence fell once again.

“Very good” James finished quietly reasserting control of his temper “Cut their restraints I think we’ve reached something of an understanding.” The unkempt men began to move through the seated crowd and cut our restraints.

Rubbing our wrists my fellow technicians and I compared notes. All of our stories were fairly similar. Though most of us weren’t present for the EMP detonation. I was one of the few who actually knew how the EMP was planted. Most of us assumed it was attached surreptitiously to a replacement part or filter. It was only an hour or two more before James returned to tell us that all evidence of Big ANNE was scrubbed from the world and we could join the rebuilding effort.

I suppose that leads us to now. For a good long while all people did was wonder directionless. Eventually, the food producers found it in them to resume their jobs and after that all the other little jobs necessary for our survival came back. Here we are rebuilding society from scratch. But the world is broken now; we are no longer united by Big ANNE’s loving guidance. Squabbling factions fight each other for resources, and internal power struggles keep anyone too weak to gain any real ground, and what about me? I’m reduced to a begging bum on the side of the road. Was loving my gilded cage enough of a crime to be a discarded dreg of society? I have no useful skills beyond telling my story and maintaining ANN #125. But neither of those are useful now. Big ANNE gave each of us what we needed most: a niche, any niche to live within, but without her I have become superfluous and my execution has been scheduled.