1 Soul Bound
1.2 Taking Control
1.2.4 An Artful Carnivale
1.2.4.14 Happy hubbard
The street they were on appeared to finish in a dead-end, but Bulgaria led them up a set of stairs, and once part way up she could see they carried on around a corner not accessible from street-level. Her eyes took a few moments to adjust to full glare of the Etruscan afternoon sun as they emerged onto the roof and then she looked around and found they were on a broad highway running parallel to a wide canal.
Alderney: “The canal below us is the Rio Avanti. Convoys assemble in the galley pool on the far side and then depart down it to the sea. You can just see the arch, at the start of the cliffs, where families wave to departing sailors and throw luck charms down upon them.”
Bulgaria: “In the caves beneath the highest point is the Bully Pit, which used to be run by the Red Circle, before their gang was absorbed by the Saints. They organised fights for mercenaries, against monsters or other mercenaries, to let them show off and raise their hiring price. If we’re looking for dissatisfied members of the Saints, willing to leak information, that might be a good place to start. However, today we’re going the other way.”
He started to lead them west, back towards the Canalasso, where the highway grew busier and the fraction of travellers wearing masks increased. One group of mask wearers caught her eye in particular. They wore front-laced stays and the sort of pink bow covered flouncy petticoats she associated with children, but had hairless muscular arms and identical masks: that of a rosy-cheeked old lady, with a pointed nose and a very wide grin that showed lots of teeth. To complete the look, they were wearing the mop cap of old peasant maids.
Despite their looks, they were being very considerate of others, not pushing and letting hurried people cut in front of them. One of them saw her looking and doffed his cap to her.
Alderney: {Those are Hubbard’s Boys. Not a powerful group and pretty harmless, if you want to talk with them.}
Kafana: “Hello. I’m new to this area.”
H-Boy 1: “Hello.”
H-Boy 2: “Welcome.”
H-Boy 3: “We greet you.”
They said nothing more, and remained open to her talking to them, but left it up to her. Boy-2 turned to another passer-by and sold him a deep blue bottle the size of a liquor miniature, accepting an empty in return which he carefully stowed in a leather bag.
Forward movement was now very slow, as the long arch over the Canalasso was crowded, so she carried on talking.
Kafana: “What is it you are selling?”
H-Boy 3: “We provide laudanum, for those in pain.”
H-Boy 1: “It helps with the cough, but sadly it doesn’t cure anything.”
H-Boy 3: “Temporary relief is better than no relief at all.”
H-Boy 1: “That is true. We believe that everybody deserves happiness.”
H-Boy 3: “There’s no sin in being happy.”
Bungo: {Laudanum - that’s a tincture of opium. Pretty addictive stuff.}
Kafana: {Really? XperiSense put drug dealers in their game?}
Bulgaria: {Historically accurate, and perhaps inevitable. If there’s something in the game that reduces pain, it will get sold. They are no worse than the normal pharmacists of the Renaissance.}
Kafana: {Well, at least they’re not being pushy about it.}
Bulgaria: {If anything, they sound like Benthamite Utilitarians, who thought the only things that matter when making ethical decisions were the amount of pleasure or pain caused.}
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Tomsk: {I distrust Utilitarians. No matter how good their arguments sound, they always end up justifying sacrificing the interests of some of the innocent in favour of the general populace.}
Wellington: {It is pretty standard. You sum over the expected changes in utility, the quality adjusted life years, from each action, and pick the one with the highest total. Even a computer can do it. The complexity arises because you have to take into account the precedent set by your decisions affecting future decisions by others. Basically, if breaking your word or sacrificing the interests of minorities doesn’t lead to an ideal society, then that’s a bad precedent to set so it gets heavily weighted against.}
Tomsk: {It is easy to notice and protest when those in control of society’s resources discriminate against a minority. So they don’t frame it that way. What was that phrase? “The undeserving poor.” It gets disguised by clinical impartial language: “better to give a new organ to a worker who pays taxes and does some good in society, than to a leeching bum who only takes. Nothing personal, it is just more efficient that way.”}
Kafana: {Sounds like you’re quoting someone.}
Tomsk didn’t respond, but Kafana could feel his arm in her hand go stiff.
Bungo: {So if you don’t agree with calculator-like Utilitarianism, what do you base your system of ethics upon?}
Tomsk: {I don’t. I don’t have a system. I do what feels right at the time, what’s true to myself.}
Bungo: {So actions that are cowardly, disloyal, cruel or unjust?}
Tomsk: {Break my harmony. It’s like parrying with a sword in a way that leaves you vulnerable to a follow-on stroke. You learn not to do it and, as you advance along your path, you gain a sense that lets you feel it is wrong without conscious thought or needing a decision.}
Bulgaria: {That’s called “virtue ethics”. The most common criticism of it is that it tends to give inconsistent answers when people from different cultures end up struggling on opposite sides of a complex issue, because they disagree on which virtues are most important.}
Kafana: {Issues like how realistic XperiSense should make this game?}
Wellington: {Yes. For example, I wonder if a player taking drugs in Soul Bound would become an addict in arlife? There are cases of bootleg Better-Than-Life VR games being sold, that result in players being found starved to death - they couldn’t bear logging out long enough to look after their arlife bodies.}
Alderney: {Let’s not find out. Besides, according to rumour, their home base is an invitation-only club somewhere near the Night Market called “The Segreta” for those with ‘advanced’ tastes the Scorpioni won’t cater to.}
Kafana: {A secret cooking society? Sounds fun!}
Alderney stumbled, and Bulgaria smiled. Bungo wasn’t so reserved; he howled in laughter, leaving Tomsk to explain.
Tomsk: “Ah, you weren’t with us when we went out on patrol. The troops were bragging about it. The Scorpioni Den is Torello’s red light area.”
Kafana blushed furiously, then held her head high and tried pretending it hadn’t happened. They were nearly at the apex of the arch, and fleeing in embarrassment wasn’t an option.
Alderney: “And it is just ahead. Cutting through the den is the quickest route to where we’re going, though we can take our time and look around if you’d like - test out Tomsk’s virtue.”
Tomsk wasn’t the least apologetic. “My virtue feels just fine about that. If someone is enjoying displaying themself, then I will enjoy the view and thank them for their artistry. Snooping upon the unwilling is an entirely different matter.”
Kafana: “I know what you mean. I tested the listening spell that Bulgaria suggested, and we found out some useful stuff, but surveillance like that - isn’t it the sort of thing we’re fighting against in arlife? What does utilitarianism and virtue ethics say about the morality of listening into a conversation that the other parties thought they were having in private?”
Wellington: “Are they harmed by our listening in? Will good result from our acquiring the information? Will others be influenced by our actions?”
Tomsk: “Are they bad guys? Did they have a reasonable expectation of privacy, one that I had explicitly or implicitly agreed to honour?”
Bulgaria: “All good questions, but you’re missing the view. If you look to your left, the Canalasso extends onwards into the area where caracks and grand galleons from other regions of Covob unload. Somewhere down there near Basso is the Rio Merda leading to The Throne, where the Royals are based. Ahead is the other end of the Rio Principe and to the right you can look back towards the Low Market along the part of the Canalasso we came down via gondola.”
She accepted Bulgaria’s redirection and gazed out over the side. This high up, she could see all of the Arsenal laid out below her. The view was spectacular, and she sensed sylphs in the fresh breeze. Out to sea, gulls swooped over returning fishing boats, while keeping a wary eye on a hawk flying high above. She’d make a point of catching Tomsk alone later, when they weren’t doing a broadcast segment, and ask for his views on the challenges facing the Wombles. For now, her job was to see the Arsenal with new eyes, experiencing the feelings of the moment, whether wonder, anger or embarrassment.
She remembered Alderney implying that Kafana had an optimistic view of human nature and that it would be a challenge to retain that view after the things she’d see today. She wasn’t feeling very optimistic right now, what with all the stories of deceit and meanness, but neither did she want to lump people together, each boiled down to just a single impersonal number. If Tomsk could do this, so could she. She just needed to get past the initial hurdle, and get to know these thieves and whores as individuals - learn their stories without pre-judging them by their current circumstances. She squared her shoulders, and started down the other side of the arch.