Our first stop through The Mortal Conglomerate begins with Anton Haines and his humble beginnings. Early in my tenure as a Conglomerate Archivist, I came across Anton Haines and thought he would be a perfect example of what this stratum of The Conglomerate referred to as "freeloaders," the people who didn't have jobs for one reason or another and had to rely on the basic, free things that were provided to them. We may revisit Anton at another time, as he has a much larger story to be told, but we'll start here for now.
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Anton Haines looked up at the massive monolith towering above him; the application for an entry-level position at The Mortal Conglomerate, whose size alone exceeded human imagination, making Anton's future seem as daunting as the structure before him. Anton didn't want to imagine his future working for The Conglomerate, he preferred to imagine nice things like waking up on a big, comfortable bed, eating a delicious breakfast, or going outdoors (things he had never experienced). Unfortunately for Anton, he was in a position that many people living — or trapped — in the Conglomerate found themselves, which prevented him from being able to afford those kinds of nice things.
His neck strained as he continued to pan up the entire length of the smooth, black monolith. It seemed to disappear into a rectangular opening in the ceiling. The opening was the exact dimensions of the monolith, which left no gaps or seams along its edges; it was hard to tell which had been created first. Had the monolith been sculpted to fit precisely into the rectangular opening above it, or had the opening been constructed to accommodate the monolith's exact size and shape? At first glance, the monolith appeared to have a flawless, opaque black surface, but as he stared at it longer, Anton saw something in it. Alien, eel-like creatures appeared beneath the surface of the monolith, swimming and coiling around each other, but as soon as he tried to focus or blink, they would disappear from his view. Anton studied the monolith, trying to understand what it was, how it worked, and he got the sense that the monolith was doing the same to him.
Anton couldn't remember why he decided to visit the entry-level application for The Mortal Conglomerate; he didn't like the idea of waking up at the same time every day and taking the same tram to the same place to do the same thing. He didn't like the idea of wearing a uniform, or having to look into a camera to take a picture for his badge that he had to remember to clip on to his uniform every day. He didn't like the idea of saying "yes sir," or "no sir" to other people in those same uniforms with those same badges. He didn't even really know what The Conglomerate did besides grow more massive so that more people could live on the however-many-trillion or billion strata that existed within The Conglomerate. But the idea to apply had been slowly growing in the back of his mind, somewhere so hidden that he rarely looked there. Maybe someone put it there in his mind intentionally, maybe they did that to any potential Conglomerate recruit, maybe it was in the food that was delivered to his apartment every week, or in the detergent they used to wash his clothes, or the soap and water he used to shower every morning. Maybe it was a subliminal message recorded in the robotic voices that would announce whenever he was urinating, defecating, or showering, or maybe it was in the walls and panels everywhere around him, an intentional plan to gain more workers to fuel this infinite machine. Or maybe it was none of these things, maybe Anton had just stagnated in this apartment for so long that he needed anything else, even if it was becoming a bureaucratic drone working to grow this thing which he was trapped inside.
That morning, 6-foot-tall Anton laid down on the floor of his 8x8 foot apartment and stared up at the underside of the one chair he had. A plain white label had been applied to the underside of the chair which had the letters "CHAIR_34298577-ZB" printed on it. He often laid there staring at the letters and numbers trying to think of what they might mean. Anton turned onto his left side after giving up on trying to decipher what the string of letters and numbers on the underside of the chair might mean. His view was then partially obscured by the thin blanket that hanged off the side of his bed, and under his bed he could see a few pieces of dust that had settled on the plain, grey floor which would be automatically cleaned at some point during the day.
He rolled over onto his right side and was then staring at the bottom drawer of his storage, which was used to store the following items: a heating plate, a divided rectangular aluminum food tray, one set of reusable plastic cutlery, weekly rations, and a bottle of spicy seasoning that his mother had sent as a birthday gift the previous year. The next shelf up contained his weekly allotment of basic clothing. Above those two shelves was a cabinet where Anton's two pairs of footwear sat beneath his sweatshirts, above the hanging rack was a small shelf where Anton kept the few books he owned or had borrowed, and a metal box with his father's initials (M.H.) written in large, thick, black ink. On either side of the storage area were two shallow alcoves. The alcove on the left contained a bathroom area with a toilet that could fold into the wall, so one had space for showering. Anton could push a button and an automatic shower sequence would commence, and a robot voice would emit from the shower head saying "automatic shower sequence commencing". Or, he could push another button and the toilet would unfold from the wall, so he could urinate or defecate while a robot voice would emit from the toilet saying "you are urinating" or "you are defecating" followed by "great job!" when he was done urinating or defecating. In the alcove to the right of Anton's storage space was a table surface where he could sit on the chair while preparing and eating food. The wall in front of the table was a mirror where Anton would avoid looking at his own reflection while eating his 3 daily food rations.
Anton would have preferred a roomier apartment than this one, maybe some more options for food and clothing, and the ability to afford the books he wanted to read, rather than just the ones that he could get for free. But this was one of the few options Anton had if he didn't want to work or wasn't able to find a job that would hire him. Anton had thought of the idea of working, but it seemed like a lot of work. Everyone he talked to said they hated their job, and everything he read about jobs seemed to be unanimous about how awful they were. Additionally, Anton was only able to afford the free education that the stratum of The Conglomerate where he grew up offered, which only included the basics such as math, reading, reasoning, and physical exercise. Anton had missed the option to go into a specific learning, and when he imagined himself having the opportunity, he could never settle on what he wanted to learn. In a place as infinite as The Conglomerate, there were infinite options and possibilities for one to choose for themselves. All the possible outcomes for Anton's future were so vastly numerous that imagining the best one for himself was mentally crippling, and often led him to lying on the floor of his apartment and reading "CHAIR_34298577-ZB" until his mind was numb and blank again.
150 days earlier, Anton turned 25, he had been living on his own for the past 10 years. During those years, he had become acclimated to living in this same apartment, and saying "hello" and "goodbye" to an endless rotation of neighbors moving in and out for various reasons. Most of his new neighbors moving in were 15 (the same age he was when he completed his free schooling and left the care of his mother), and most would only be around for a couple of years while they did training and learning for whatever they had decided to do as adults. However, one of his neighbors had stayed the same for the past 3 years.
Reese Jonckers held a longer residence than any of Anton's previous neighbors, and Anton began to realize that Reese was the reason he had decided to finally visit the application monolith and considered joining The Mortal Conglomerate. Or maybe not realizing that Reese was the exact reason for Anton to make this decision, but realizing that Reese had indirectly and repeatedly poked and prodded at that place in the back of Anton's mind where the idea to join the Conglomerate had resided, and that by poking and prodding at it ceaselessly over the 3 years they had known each other, the idea was finally released into the part of Anton's mind responsible for making decisions, no matter how awful or undesirable the decision might seem in hindsight.
From the moment he first met Reese, Anton could tell he wanted to avoid this man as much as possible. But, no matter how hard Anton tried, he would somehow always run into him. If Anton was leaving his apartment, Reese always had some reason to stick his head out from his door to tell Anton about his most recent purchase, or always happened to be leaving at the exact same time and taking the exact same tram to somewhere so they could walk together and talk about all of Reese's most prized possessions. If Anton waited to leave until he heard Reese had left, Reese would be running back because he forgot something or decided not to leave, or as he once put it: "Just gotta hop into my fancy new glad-rags for this broad I'm meeting up with. Her panties are going to drop when she sees these!" Before pulling out a pair of shoddily-sequined, salmon-colored, toeless, high top, latex, platform crocs¹.
Why does he talk like that? Anton would think before nodding and giving a forced smile.
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[1]: In order to enhance your experience of this story, I have altered your own personal perception of the description of these shoes through use of The Perception Drive. If the description of these shoes do not fit your perception of the most horrible shoes you could imagine, please run into the street flailing your arms and shouting "Oh jeeze! Oh Lourde! Oh holy moly! My existence is a lie, please send help!" And a technician will be dispatched to repair The Perception Drive as quickly as possible.
Your current wait time is: [wait time could not be found]
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That morning, after he finished eating breakfast and laying on the floor of his apartment, Anton began to leave for his daily walk. He braced himself for a Reese encounter before opening the door, he inhaled deeply through his nose, relaxed his shoulders, and exhaled out through his mouth. A doctor had suggested he try this breathing exercise after he went to the infirmary for chest pains and difficulty breathing, which — the doctor explained to him — were being caused by anxiety. He closed his eyes as he exhaled and opened his door, preparing for Reese to already be standing there on the walkway. He slowly opened one eye, and when he saw that not a single Reese Jonckers was in sight, he decided it was safe to open the other eye.
As if on cue, Reese leapt right in front of Anton, both feet stomping down onto the pavement at the same time, his arms and fingers fully extended. Slapping Anton on alternating shoulders, Reese shouted, "Hey there! Ol' buddy, ol' pal, ol' chum, ol'-"
"Stop it!" Anton threw up his hands, pushing away Reese's slaps.
"Aw, c'mon, Ant, just some neighborly love." Reese whined with his arms hanging down at his sides.
Anton only let specific people call him "Ant", and he hated any time Reese would call him that. After weeks of asking Reese not to call him Ant, he had given up on trying to correct him, "What do you want?" he asked, already sounding exhausted at the beginning of the day.
"Oh, nothing," Reese began coyly, "just wanted to show you... THIS!" he excitedly pulled out what looked like a computer tablet.
"Oh, cool, a tablet. Don't you already have one?" Anton asked. Usually he would avoid asking any questions, for fear of prolonging an interaction with Reese, but he knew Reese would insist on explaining why he bought another computer tablet, regardless of what Anton said to him.
"This isn't a tablet, silly, it's an electronic book!" Reese responded, as if he had been rehearsing the line in his mirror all morning.
"Oh, cool." Anton said, trying to hide his sarcasm.
"Yeah, I had to save up for like 3 days, couldn't even buy my own dinner, had to ask The Cong for that crap they feed you freeloaders, I forgot how bad it tastes man, but look at this thing, it's freakin' sweet, right?!" Reese spoke so quickly that it was hard for Anton to figure out which part of Reese's sentence he was supposed to respond to.
"Yeah."
"So look, I always see you reading those paperbacks all the time, you know 'cause you can't watch TV or buy a video game or anything, and I was wondering if you have any recommendations for what I should download onto this thing, right now I've only got 'How, Dad? How?!' by this guy named Dr. Flortus McDangle. I guess it's supposed to be–"
"Look, Reese, I'm sorry, I've really got to go." Anton interrupted.
"Go where, man?" Reese scoffed, "you don't have like a job or a partner or anything."
"I'm..." Anton trailed off. He couldn't take any more of Reese's incessant babbling and boasting. He had to get out of this. In desperation, he quickly blurted out "I'm applying to join The Conglomerate."
There was a brief silence as Reese stared at Anton, then he doubled over in an obnoxious laughter with his hands slapping his knees, "That's a good one! You, joining The Cong, oh man, you got me good!"
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Anton didn't react.
Reese straightened up, "you're serious? Wow, good luck I guess. I hear entry level can be kind of brutal. But yeah, that's like the only job option for someone like you."
The full weight of Anton's lie hadn't really sunk in, he was just desperate to get away from Reese. "I should get going," he started to say.
"Oh yeah, I'm sorry, I'm probably making you miss your tram." Reese sounded more sincere than Anton had ever heard him.
Anton walked to the tram platform, trying not to think about anything, especially not how he planned on getting out of this lie. He counted his steps, trying to keep an even number inside each of the grey, cement walkway tiles. Maybe he could just continue to lie to Reese and tell him he got a job. That wouldn't work, though, Reese would know Anton was still penniless when he saw Anton wasn't buying anything. His hands were fidgety as he continued to avoid any meaningful thought and walked toward the tram platform.
The free tram on this stratum ran half as fast and half as often as the premium tram did, but having no income or savings to pay the premium tram fare, Anton had no other choice but to wait. As it pulled into the platform where Anton and the other passengers waited, the free tram's brakes made an awful squealing, scraping sound, causing everyone to cover their ears and wince in auditory discomfort until it came to a stop. The tram was packed full of freeloaders, all wearing the identical clothing that the Conglomerate provided them. Anton squeezed onto the tram, awkwardly apologizing to anyone as he wedged his way into the mass and slowly became part of it. The tram soon cleared up at the next stop, and Anton was able to breathe again, and feel like a singular person rather than just a part of a human blob. As the tram squealed and jerked its way through the stratum like a geriatric tin cat, Anton stood and held onto one of the handles and looked out the window. The first few stops were on the main railway that ran through the apartment districts, they passed hundreds of walkways all identical to the one Anton lived on, he looked down at the cement panels of the walkways and tried to imagine how many million or billion identical strata existed below them, then looked up at the ceiling above them covered in all kinds of conduits and pipes, and the single, persistent strip of sunbeam that provided them with some semblance of natural sunlight. Anton imagined how many million or billion strata existed above him, and if there was another person named Anton Haines, and what they might be doing right now. Then Anton looked at the sunbeam strip, and imagined how many million or billion miles away the nearest sun was that was providing light to that sunbeam strip. The thought of one day getting to see that sun was quickly stifled by his own fear of aspiration. Anton began breathing faster and more shallowly as he continued thinking about how big and vast and endless it all was, and he quickly had to sit down and hold his head in his hands, or he thought he might pass out.
As Anton caught his breath, he felt a hand on his shoulder, he turned and saw an older man with hearing aids. Anton started to apologize, but the man only looked at him while pointing at a small pad of paper in his hand. He looked where the man was pointing and saw that he had written "are you okay?" on the pad of paper.
Anton started to say "I'm fine,"
But the man was pointing at his ears and shaking his head, "no". The man flipped his pad of paper back to a page where he had previously written "hearing aid broken, getting fixed", waited for Anton to read it, flipped to a blank page, and extended a pen for Anton to take. He hesitantly took the pen and paper from the man, the man nodded as he pushed the pen and paper into Anton's hands.
Anton wrote on the paper "I'm sorry, I'm okay, just a panic attack", and handed it back to the man who took it and read it.
The man wrote, "Can I give you some advice?"
Anton read the page, then nodded "yes."
The man wrote for a few moments and then handed the paper to Anton. The man had written, "keep panicking, do not let panic consume you, observe it and try to understand it. Avoiding the panic will only force you to stay stuck right here where you are, FOREVER". Right when Anton read that last word, the tram halted. Looking out the window, he saw the massive, black monolith; an imposing void column. Anton quickly stood up and tried to apologize to the man and explain that this was his stop, until he saw that the man was pointing to his ear, and shaking his head "no". Anton frantically gestured while walking out of the tram doors, but couldn't figure out how to convey what he was trying to say. In a panic, he ended up clapping his hands together, interlocking his fingers, turning his hands horizontal, and then pointing at his palm. Having just as little clue as to what Anton was trying to say as Anton did himself, the man shrugged as Anton exited the tram.
Anton walked to the edge of the tram platform and held onto the railing to look down over the stratum district square. The platform sat high off the floor in the center of the square and was supported by a large metal beam. Anton turned and watched as the tram accelerated toward a tunnel in the wall of the square. Anton had only been here a couple of times, and figured he should survey the square from this vantage point before descending into the walkways below. The square was massive. If insects existed in The Conglomerate, and if Anton had ever seen an insect, he might compare his view of the square to that of a ¼ inch insect standing on a platform in the center of an 8x8 foot room. As Anton slowly panned from the floor of the square up to the ceiling, he began to lose his balance and had to grip the railing harder. In the ceiling were pipes and conduits, and flat discs that emitted the same sunbeam light as the strips that ran along the walkways by the apartments. The lights illuminated the square below, which was filled with grids of small buildings containing various storefronts, entertainment, and offices. From the platform, Anton could see the hundreds of flat roofs of the buildings, and the overabundance of signs advertising products, events, and services. Anton looked across the square toward one of the walls where he saw the main entrance to The Conglomerate Facility, there was a large stairway leading up to the entrance, and adjacent to it was the monolith, extending the entire height of the square from floor to ceiling. Anton looked at the walkway that led there, and luckily it was a straight shot from the bottom of the platform, so he began descending the stairway. Once he reached the bottom of the stairway, his anxiety emerged from a swelling hollowness in his gut. The people were moving as a mindless, swarming horde, but they all seemed to know exactly where they needed to go, and Anton felt like he was the only one who existed who had no idea what he was doing, or what anyone expected him to do. He thought of what the old man had told him, Keep panicking, do not let panic consume you, and started walking toward the monolith with a dishonest determination.
Most of this stratum consisted of gray concrete and steel. The sunbeam lights gave the place an overall warm hue. Steam rose from vents in the floors and roofs, and condensation collected and dripped down the walls, giving the concrete moist, reflective streaks. The sounds of all the people walking and talking and shouting, and the various clubs, venues, and theaters, reverberated and echoed through the square. Others seemed numb to the noise, but it took Anton a few moments to adjust to all of it. The frequencies and vibrations melded into a thick atmosphere that pushed against his senses, challenging his ability to see or think. After a moment, he was able to dial in his senses, and focus on the direction he needed to walk, but it took constant mental effort to move his legs and blink and breathe, like he was piloting a giant robot that required levers, buttons, switches, and toggles to operate. He walked past the storefronts, many of which had announcers trying to get people to come in, they were shouting things like "Flavored water is 20% off today only, come on in!" or "Upgrade your video panel today, new pixel-less screens!" or "Come see Madame Maxxxway's Menagerie of planet-born exotic dancers. You will not believe your eyes!", but most of them would see Anton and not say anything. It was obvious he was a freeloader. When they saw he was wearing the free clothes, without any accessories, and that he clearly didn't go to the gym or take any supplements or have any augments or alterations, they would look at him, and stop shouting their spiel, and just stare at him until they spotted someone who clearly had money to spend. He saw a man getting kicked out of a club for not being able to settle his tab. He saw a child begging their mother to take them to see a movie. He saw a group of men about his age, bulked up from augments, standing outside a bar, one of them hunched over puking. As much freedom as there was here, it only made him feel more trapped. He had to keep walking.
Eventually, he made it to the front steps of The Conglomerate Facility, and approached the monolith. As Anton studied the monolith and felt it studying him back, he didn't notice when another person walked up and stood next to him. Anton was adjusting his eyes, trying to see what was swimming beneath the surface of the monolith, and almost jumped when he heard someone say, "Thinking of applying?" in a confident voice. He turned and saw that the voice had come from a tall woman standing next to him. The black and red Conglomerate uniform fit well on the woman's strong, broad figure, and the black boots made her stand a good 3 inches over Anton.
"I was...", Anton stammered.
"Hey, don't be nervous. Once you're in it, you just let it do its thing, and before you know it, you'll have your first paycheck."
"In it?" Anton asked, confused.
"Yeah. No one's really sure where it came from, but it does The Conglomerate a lot of good. You just let that thing figure out where you belong, don't ask too many questions, and you'll be golden." The woman gave Anton a quick squeeze on the shoulder — the only friendly physical touch Anton had felt in years — and turned to walk up the stairs to the facility. She quickly turned back and shouted, "Hey, if you end up in waste management, I might be your new boss!"
Waste management? Anton thought to himself as he watched her disappear through the doors at the top of the steps. He turned back toward the monolith. How does this thing even work? He was hoping there'd be instructions or something nearby that would tell him, but he didn't see any. He reached out and placed his hand on the surface of the monolith. It felt cold and almost moist, but he couldn't see any kind of moisture on the surface. The surface began to soften as it slowly enveloped his hand. He tried to pull away, but it was already solidly embedded in the monolith. "Oh shit, no, I'm sorry, I changed my mind!" Anton whisper-shouted as the monolith swallowed his entire hand up to his wrist. He grabbed his forearm and tried to pull harder, but it wouldn't budge. People walking up the steps behind him turned and stopped, some of them pointed and whispered to their friends. He heard an electric buzzing coming from above him, and he looked to see red bolts of electricity coiling and jolting down the sides of the monolith. The monolith had pulled almost his entire arm inside it, up to his bicep, and he watched as the red bolts of electricity got closer. He turned and tried to push away from the monolith with his other hand as it reached up to his shoulder, but it only began to swallow the other hand, too. The red electricity passed by him and disappeared through the floor, and he felt the monolith briefly heat up. Then his vision went dark, and his head began to spin as the rest of his body was swallowed inside the monolith.
Gravity left, and he felt as if he was swimming in a thick, oily syrup. There was something coiling around his limbs. He tried to open his eyes, but they began to sting when he did. The cold, viscous liquid was seeping into his ears and nose, but he couldn't move his hands to plug them. He was holding his breath, his lungs began to ache and burn. Finally, he was forced to gasp for air, and as he opened his mouth, he felt the oily syrup spill into his mouth and invade his lungs. He strained and pulled against the thing holding his limbs, but then he found that his lungs no longer hurt. There was an entity in there with him, he sensed many other minds, multiple consciousnesses swimming through his own consciousness, observing his memories, testing his potential limits and strengths, hypothetical questions were asked and answered in milliseconds. But there was one voice in there, calmer and kinder than the millions of others, a feminine voice asking for help, not desperate or pleading, but commanding, telling Anton to open his eyes. So he opened his eyes, letting the burning sensation return, enduring the pain. For a moment, all he could see was the pitch-black inside of the monolith, then images began flashing before him, the voice telling him to look. There was a massive tree with a hundred branches growing in every direction, then a circular door in the side of the tree, then the inside of the tree, darkness illuminated blue, thousands of faces, and her voice commanding Anton to help. Anton's entire body began to ache, his head was pounding and the burning in his eyes was now unbearable. He shut his eyes again, and felt something being pushed into his mouth. A piece of paper? Then his arms were released, and he could feel himself being pushed forward.
There was cold air, and light, and gravity that caused Anton to fall flat on his face. He lifted himself up on his hands and knees and felt the cold air rushing back into his lungs as he gasped, then choked and coughed. Hacking and gagging, Anton pulled a small piece of paper covered in black slime from the back of his mouth, and dropped the paper to the ground where it made a wet slap. The slime on the paper and little specks he had coughed up started moving toward the monolith, and reformed into a larger blob before reforming into the monolith. He picked up the piece of paper as he stood up. When he went to brush himself off, assuming he'd be covered in that same black slime, he was surprised to find that he was completely dry of any moisture and clean of any slime. He took a moment to regain his composure and catch his breath, then he looked down at the piece of paper which simply read:
WASTE MANAGEMENT