Attack of the Corporate Overlords: Chapter 3

A queer sci-fi story set in near-future Toronto, when corporations have gained control of the people.

“Hey mama,” she called softly, placing a hand on her mother’s shoulder. It was late and predictably, her mother was asleep. Violet dropped the contented expression from her face, grateful that she wouldn’t have to feign being okay. She pulled the blankets up higher over her mother’s small sleeping frame, grabbing the half-finished plate of dinner from the end table.

She entered the kitchen, distractedly shoveling the cold pasta into her mouth. She had no appetite but knew it was important to feed herself. Having achieved the bare minimum caloric intake her roiling stomach could tolerate, she rinsed the dishes off and made her way to her bed.

In spite of the fact that she was physically exhausted, she couldn’t get her mind to quiet enough to fall asleep. With just over three hours til her scheduled meeting with the Defiance, she was buzzing with anticipation. She fished the note out of her pocket, smoothing it with her thumbs, causing the message to smudge. 

What was their angle? Why did they want to meet with her? She obsessively ran through the events from the day prior as she shifted uncomfortably in her small bed. She could see the bodies exploding when nobody else could. She was basically clean from Attentrix. The Defiance clearly didn’t like the FPC. But why her? What could she have to do with this?

Her thoughts meandered, unpredictably tripping over a memory from ten years prior. She had just turned thirteen, an uneventful occasion given her family’s lack of resources. She vividly recalled stepping through the front door, finding her mother collapsed on the floor in a pile. Her breathing was shallow, her pulse thready. Violet used all of the strength of her newly formed preteen muscles to flip her mother onto her back, horrified to see her eyes, nose, and mouth caked in a sticky tar-like substance. From that day on, her vibrant, energetic mother was gone, her lifeforce sapped by the drug that had been meant to help keep her going. Violet assumed responsibility of the family, grew up too fast.

She felt tears prick the back of her eyes at the recollection, staving them off with a stern deep breath. She hadn’t cried since that day and didn’t plan to break her streak now. She always tried to keep the past in the past, afraid that dwelling too long on any one tragedy would be enough to unravel her tenuous mental state. It was a lot easier to do with Attentrix, she realized. The flood of emotion knocking her about was unfamiliar and unpleasant. 

Violet pushed the thought aside, turning her attention to the logistics of the morning ahead. She didn’t have much information to go off of, so she mulled over the fixed points she did know. She needed to be across the street at 5 AM without any cameras catching her movements, and she needed to be at her station at the factory by 9 AM. She wondered if this would be enough time for her to do… whatever it was the Defiance had planned for her. 

She felt a bravery swelling up within her, emboldened by the possibility of stepping outside of the lines of her prewritten path. Though it had only been something she’d started to question very recently, it was like her brain was forging new pathways, linking together all of the scattered memories of the unsavory life that had been constructed for her and the rest of the working class. While she couldn’t put her finger on it precisely, she had a vague sense of unrest, knowing that things just weren’t right. 

A deep ache set in to her body, as if she were finally registering the weight of all that she’d carried her whole life. She chalked it up to tiredness, a sensation that was so unfamiliar after years of daily stimulant usage – yet she knew that below the physical exhaustion something deeper lurked.  

If she couldn’t get some actual sleep in, she’d at least try to relax for the next while. Slow, deep, focused breathing – she recalled a story from her childhood, her mother quietly lulling her to sleep with “counting sheep,” a practice she suggested was a common cure for sleeplessness in the before-times. She painted an imaginary scene onto the canopy above her bed, the fluffy creatures hopping softly over concrete barriers until she couldn’t imagine any more.

— — — — — —

Violet awoke suddenly from a dream she’d been having, face flushed. Seconds ago she had been hovering mere inches away from Mercy, a palpable tension between the two as she stared captivated into her onyx eyes. Whatever that was about, she scoffed a bit too heavily to nobody but herself. 

She noted the time – 4:58 AM – and was impressed by her biological rhythm. She hadn’t set an alarm, aware that the FPC-branded device was constantly relaying data to the powers-that-be. A lifetime of experience separating from her felt sense, yet she was still able to tune into her internal clock. 

Following her regular morning routine, she slid soundlessly out of her bunk, grabbed a nutrition bar, tousled her long, dark hair. The bar was chalky and flavorless but nutritionally dense – perfect for the average user, given a side effect of Attentrix was loss of taste. She choked it back, gulped down a glass of water, then quietly angled out the front door.

The streets were dim in the pre-dawn light, hundreds of people milling about on their way to work or home, heads down. Violet eyed the low wall across the street, scanning for the cameras as she slowly made her way towards the throng of early morning commuters. She caught a lucky break and maintained her pace, cutting across lanes of human traffic to the other side. 

Just like the day before, she ducked behind the brick barrier – but this time she was prepared. She got down on her butt and shimmied towards the edge of the hole, dangling her legs over and gingerly dropping to the dusty floor below. She landed clumsily, thanking herself for the foresight to bend her knees so as to absorb some of the impact. She stood up and dusted herself off just as Mercy emerged from the shadows.

“Hey, Assembler,” Mercy’s voice was like smooth gravel. Violet swore she could see a small smirk on the woman’s face. “Glad to see you got the memo.”

Violet stood awkwardly in place. “Uh, yeah. Thanks for… inviting me?” It had been eons since she’d had a proper social interaction with another human being, and it didn’t help that Mercy wasn’t bad to look at. 

Mercy snorted softly, the smirk becoming more apparent. “No problem. I’m sure you have a lot of questions.” She turned, gesturing with her head as she walked away. “Let’s talk somewhere more quiet.” Violet nodded, falling silently into step a few paces behind her.

The two walked through the abandoned garage, the din of the street above fading into the background the further they got from the entry hole. Violet scanned her surroundings, seeing nothing noteworthy – dust, garbage, bits of rubble. Her curiosity piqued as Mercy curved right, stepping behind what seemed to be a false wall. If she’d been on her own, she wouldn’t have noticed the obscured entryway at all. It blended perfectly into the dilapidated concrete around it. She followed Mercy’s lead and stepped behind the wall.

Mercy handled a large manual padlock with gloved hands. The thing looked archaic and heavy, almost comical in its old-timeyness, something that would’ve been used before the Automation Wave. She heard a soft click as Mercy finished the code, sliding a heavy concrete door to reveal an… underground village?

Rickety wooden shelves lined a narrow hallway, stacked high with dry food goods, tools, weapons, and more. So many of the artifacts she had assumed obsolete or extinct, yet here they were in proliferance. Entryways appeared every so often between the shelves, openings in the concrete walls that led to other hallways and rooms. They reached the end of the hallway, coming to a large opening with slightly higher ceilings, hanging bulbs, rows of well-worn tables with chairs all around. Though it was early in the morning, half a dozen people dotted the seating area, immersed in bowls of food, writing on paper, communing quietly with their neighbors.

Mercy spoke in a low tone, “This is Defiance headquarters. Most people aren’t up til sunrise, but a dedicated few,” she nodded to the person Violet recognized as the flag-waver from yesterday, “are up with me.” She led Violet through the centre of the space, detouring off to a small room with a door near the back. She slid a wooden door closed and suddenly the two were alone in a small space, furnished with a folding table and two ancient-looking chairs.

Mercy sat down on one chair, gesturing for Violet to follow her lead. She looked directly at her and Violet’s cheeks burned, feeling the woman’s eyes bearing into her soul. “What do you think?” Her voice returned to normal volume, and Violet was disarmed by the question.

She scanned the room again, taking note of the heavy concrete walls, marked up with charcoal-drawn schematics, intricate formulas, shorthand code. “I don’t really know what to think,” she stated honestly. A pause lingered between the two as Mercy watched her with calm focus. “Who are you? Why do you need a headquarters?”

Mercy tilted her head slightly, leaning back in her chair. “The Defiance is a movement of people who have banded together to fight back against the FPC. We’ve had enough of their oppressive totalitarian bullshit, so we’re going to overthrow them. It’s time the power went back to the people, not these assholes who couldn’t give a shit about us.” Violet had assumed as much, but to hear it spoken aloud – it was bold. Bold and stupid.

Evidently she hadn’t hid her skepticism well, because Mercy continued. “It’s a huge operation, which is why we haven’t gone into action yet. We’ve been missing one key piece – acccess to the FPC buildings.” Her eyes glinted, Violet’s heart racing as she realized what the woman was implying.

“Wait – you think I…?” the sentence got stuck in her throat, her bravery from earlier evaporating as she realized the danger that opposing the FPC could bring. She had seen firsthand what happened to detractors – they disappeared, never to be seen again. FPC had the power to erase people from the planet, and they did so with impunity for things much less consequential.

Mercy nodded tersely. “Yeah, I think you can help.” Her gaze softened slightly; she must have registered the fear in Violet’s eyes. “Tell me, how has FPC hurt you?” Violet was stunned silent. Nobody had ever asked her about her own experience, let alone done so in a way that so brazenly called out the ruling body. 

The air hung still between the two women, Mercy patiently waiting for Violet’s reply. As the initial wave of shock subsided, she felt that connectedness again, the same way she’d felt this morning when she’d woken up without her alarm. An uncomfortable anger welled up from some untapped spring within her as her mind raced with a barrage of painful memories. 

“I’ve been working since I was thirteen,” she started quietly, “sixteen, eighteen-hour days. I provide for me and my mom, and all that work gets us is a tiny hut.” She felt a crease begin to form across her forehead. Mercy nodded silently. “That’s all it gets anyone. All of these hardworking people, broke on their asses and high as fuck all day long, just to get by. And for what?!” Her volume had increased, eyebrows creeping up into her hairline as the rage flowed through her. “My mom – she was a guinea pig for Vigilsense. She used it every day, until her body stopped accepting it. She hasn’t been the same since. I haven’t had a family since I was thirteen. FUCK.” 

At some point during her outpouring, Violet had risen to her feet. Her shoulders were heaving, angry breaths moving jaggedly through her, hands clenched into fists at her sides. She’d never allowed herself to feel this, and the ire cut through any remaining fog like a sharp knife. She felt powerful as she stood there, as if a fire had been lit inside her. Mercy mirrored the same energy back to her.

“You’re not alone,” Mercy growled. “Every single one of us in the Defiance has had a similar experience. The FPC doesn’t give a shit about anything but extracting labor and hoarding resources. There’s a reason Attentrix is pushed so hard to everyone – it keeps us compliant.”

The small room seemed to reverberate with the collective pain and frustration, not just from Mercy and Violet, but from the numerous Defiance members who had been here before, likely steeping in similar sensations. 

Mercy looked directly, pointedly into Violet’s eyes, searching for something. “We called on you because you’re at a really unique intersection. You’re off Attentrix, and you’ve got access to FPC. That makes you a valuable asset.”

Violet’s eyes instinctively dropped to Mercy’s gloved hand at the mention of FPC access, curious about her chip. As if reading her mind, Mercy peeled off the glove on her right hand, revealing a dark scar. “We took our chips out so they can’t track us.” Violet flinched as she thought about how painful that process must have been. “But that also means we can’t get caught on camera, and obviously can’t gain access to any FPC buildings.”

Violet’s mind was running a million miles a minute as she mulled over what Mercy had just shared. “So… you want me to… to… what, exactly?”

Mercy smiled a slow, low smile that threatened to stop Violet’s heart entirely. “We want you to gain access to FPC headquarters on our behalf. We’ve got a plan, but we need to get in first. You’re the only missing link for us to overthrow FPC reign.”