RILEY FELT A slight vibration that made his Perfectly formed and complete upper set of twelve identical teeth vibrate with his complete identical, though upside down, lower set. The vibration slowly died away, but Riley somehow knew that the Testing Cap was active.
"Right," said Inspector Clark giving the tablet a sharp decisive tap. "Testing Cap properly activated." He looked up at Riley, his lip-smacking copper coloured eyes conveying a hungry look. Although all citizens look alike physically, it is the manner of their expressions that easily differentiate them.
"An easy examinable question to begin with," said Inspector Clark, looking intently at his tablet display. "Just to test and calibrate the Testing Cap. What does a citizen mean by the word Perfect?"
Riley knew what Perfect meant, everyone knew what Perfect meant. This was the Perfect Age, after all. But how on earth does he put his answer into words?
"Well, let me see now... Ah, well, something is Perfect if it's the best way a thing can be. Something that makes life its most comfortable, enjoyable and, er, fulfilling." Riley was happy with his answer.
"Tut, tut, tut. Deary, deary me," sighed Inspector Clark. He shook his head derisively. He shouted crossly, "Don't you even recall your HEP definitions of the Perfect Age, from your schooldays?"
Riley tried hard to remember his Perfect Age lessons, but he was never a great one with words, and his memory for such things was at best mediocre. He remained silent, only managing a pitiful shrug of ignorance.
Inspector Clark gave the standard correct answer, pounding his fist on the desktop with every word...
"Perfect: A state of being or doing that is exactly as nature intends for humans to be or do for the optimal chances of their survival (according to and endorsed by the HEP)."
"Ah yes, that's right," agreed Riley meekly, recalling his Perfect Age Citizenship lessons, he hadn't expected to be tested on such lessons as an adult.
"Yes, you bet that's right," said an angry Inspector Clark. "Let me see now." He fiddled about with his tablet. "Yes, the Testing Cap is now Perfectly calibrated and more obtuse questions can be asked and your even more obtuse answers can be examined, analysed, assessed, indexed and numbered."
Riley knew that the questions coming his way would be designed to trick him into giving up information that would expose his guilt of unacceptable unPerfect behaviour.
"So what is meant by unPerfect?" asked Inspector Clark.
"UnPerfect: A state of being or doing that is not as exactly as nature intends for humans to be or do for the optimal chances of their survival but which is not necessarily illegal or ultimately harmful to survival (according to and endorsed by the HEP)." Riley knew he had nailed that answer and he heaved a breath of relief and felt a swell of pride.
"And what constitutes a visit to a Remote Correction Asylum?"
"An unacceptable degree or regularity of unPerfect actions." Riley wasn't so sure of this answer, but he was confident it was more or less correct.
"Hmmm..." mused Inspector Clark stroking his chin glaring intently at his tablet display. "Interesting."
Riley wondered if he had made a mistake...
"What constitutes an illegal act?" asked Inspector Clark.
This was a harder question to answer, but at least the test was continuing.
Riley thought for a moment before answering...
"I would say an illegal act is simply any action by a citizen that breaks the Perfect Laws of Citizenship, laws which are designed for the Perfection of Humankind." Riley knew he had given something of an answer, but surely, it was a poor effort.
"Well, at least you tried with that one," remarked Inspector Clark giving his tablet display a derisive tap. "So now that we have reminded ourselves of the difference between Righteousness and the dangers of Immorality, let us move on to the heart of this particular on-the-spot citizen test, a test designed for you to defend your actions, and your actions alone."
Riley knew that now was the time he had to be at his elusive best, as unPerfect as such a conduct would be.
"Can you describe a land animal, bird, reptile or mammal that existed in the days before the Perfect Age?"
The only animals that Riley knew for certain existed were the species of insects called Cleaners. They were everywhere in his world. In their life cycle, they begin life as a microscopic worm that can crawl its way through most materials and any sizeable anomaly even in a hard metal. Eventually, after spending their early life growing into a miniscule maggot-like worm they would pupate into a cocoon from which a tiny two-winged insect would emerge from the pupa to fly around eating food scraps, and any alien scraps of materials. They did not seem to excrete any solids or liquids and their gaseous waste products were broken down into, amazingly, the existing constituent gases that already exist in the atmosphere, though the HEP scientists are at a loss to explain how this can be so. It is believed that they even consume their dead. They seemed to recognise when materials had found their way into others and only feed on such unwanted invading materials. Hence their name, Cleaners. And hence the reason they are allowed to co-exist with humans in the Perfect Age, as they aid Perfection. They were grey and as tough as metal.
Riley knew that there were other animals that used to roam the Earth and that some were even human pets or displayed in zoos. But nothing in the City Library showed any images of such creatures, and his schooling never provided any media of such creatures. He had only ever been taught the words. However, he had in a sense quite possibly have seen some examples of such creatures in his unPerfect recurring dream. Though what was precisely a bird, reptile or mammal, he could not be certain. The extraordinary insects in the Robot Park were the only animals he could correctly categorise. So in truth he could give a negative answer. However, he knew now that the HEP suspected him of knowing such a thing, which in itself was hugely disconcerting.
"No, I can't, in all honesty, describe a pre-Perfect Age animal of any kind," said Riley eventually.
Inspector Clark's tablet gave off a distinct blip for the first time. Riley assumed the worst.
"Why do you say 'No'? Is it because you are bereft of the educational ability to describe such things or because you have truly never seen any visual media either stationary or moving of such animals? Let me put it more plainly. Have you ever seen an image, static or in motion, of an animal that is not a human or a Cleaner?"
Riley was under severe pressure now. He felt as if the office walls were closing in on him and the polished stainless steel panels of the ceiling were slowly lowering. He didn't take kindly to the hard steady stare lasering into him from Inspector Clark. He couldn't knowingly lie. That would be significantly unPerfect and lead to interrogation in a Remote Correction Asylum from which he would not be protected by the usual Perfect Laws of Citizenship Privacy. But then a solution came to him...
"Truly I say, in my whole life, I have never set these eyes"—Riley pointed at his pleading copper coloured eyes—"on any such images." He had undoubtedly seen such images but only in his recurring dream. And he had convinced himself before answering that the eyes of the dreamer within the dream are not the eyes of the dreamer out of the dream. A fair enough conclusion, perhaps. And as there were no blips or bleeps from Inspector Clark's tablet he felt his conviction was justified, whether it was true or not didn't matter.
Inspector Clark scowled as if acknowledging that Riley had escaped from a difficult trap. But his face quickly transformed into a sickly Draculian smile as if he was ready to go for Riley's jugular. And he was.
"Riley, have you ever engaged in a taboo activity?"
Riley's heartbeat accelerated. He decided he had to answer quickly. He couldn't lie, so he opted for evasion.
"I have never committed an illegal act."
A long bleep sounded from the tablet.
"That's not an answer to the question," said Inspector Clark fiercely. "I repeat: Have you ever engaged in a taboo activity?"
Oh to hell with this, thought Riley.
"Yes," he said, knowing it was unPerfect, way unPerfect, but not illegal to engage in a taboo activity provided it did not excessively interfere with Perfect Citizenship. Nevertheless, to admit to such unPerfectness was an embarrassment of no equal. His grey-skinned cheeks darkened rapidly, turning black, like burned iron. He could feel the Testing Cap tingle uncomfortably on his skull.
Inspector Clark pushed home his advantage, the sound of blips and bleeps almost a language unto themselves blurting abundantly from his tablet.
"Any taboo in particular?" he said, a wide grin spreading on his face.
"Y-Yes," spluttered Riley, hanging onto his freedom by the tips of his hard smooth fingers.
"'Yes', what sort of answer is that?" roared Inspector Clark leaping up from his elasticised aluminium woven palladium framed upholstered chair. "Aren't you prepared to say which taboo?"
"No." Riley knew he was tiptoeing along the thinnest of tightropes strung over the roaring mercury fires of a Perfectly unPerfect Hell.
Inspector Clark calmly sat back down keeping his eyes keenly on his tablet's display, shaking his head slowly.
There was a brief silence...
Riley found himself holding his breath.
"That is your right," said Inspector Clark, eventually. "You certainly know your Citizen Perfect Rights relating to the Perfect Laws of Citizen Privacy." Inspector Clark then pointed at Riley, saying, "Riley, let me warn you that what you do is not illegal but it challenges the very notion. It is at the very least a Perfect case of unPerfectness, if ever I have known one."
Riley breathed freely again. He knew he had survived the on-the-spot citizen test. However, Inspector Clark had not quite finished with his interrogation.
"Listen, Riley. We know that your taboo subject is your obsession with the metal menaces that almost destroyed our kind."
Riley mentally flinched. It was obvious they suspected he had an unhealthy obsession with robots, but how could they know he did? And surely they could not know of his recurring dream...surely? The Perfect Laws of Citizen Privacy meant that all the Library News Reports, other documents, and any books he had read in the City Library could not be detected. And even if the things he read somehow could be detected, through other citizens or library staff peeking over his shoulder, his private reading could definitely not be recorded in any way, even the HEP would not break such Citizen Privacy enshrined laws—or would they? Still they couldn't do anything that implicated they had done or acted on any such observations. Riley decided he just had to keep his wits about him.
"What we don't know is why you have such an obsession and how you can live with it without it affecting your work. And there's been no reports of any serious marriage problems, though almost every marriage I've examined, analysed, assessed, indexed and numbered of factory staff has been one of convenience. Aren't they all, Riley? Aren't they all?"
"Yes, I suppose they are, Inspector Clark."
"Just one last warning, Riley. If you think us HEP are severe as interrogators (not that this inconsequential on-the-spot citizen test is anything to go by), then, by the Perfect Laws, you had better hope you never get into a conversation with one of the creatures you are so obsessed with."
"Isn't that impossible, as no such metal monsters exist?" Riley was fishing for information; even now, his obsession was controlling him. He was a lost soul.
"Well, let us not beat about the cacti shrubbery, we are all aware of the Unmentionable Myth. I would not be surprised if you have fantasised in some unacceptably unPerfect way about being the first human to expose such a myth as fact. As school children, don't we all go through a phase of participating in clandestine gossip among our pals discussing the Myth of the Last Robot?"
Riley could not believe the Inspector was gleefully mentioning the unmentionable. He struggled to contain his excitement.
"Yes, Riley. Very exciting it was too. Especially the thought of all the gold! The robots collected all the Earth's gold. They were obsessed with the stuff. They suffered a gold fever far in excess of any a human could experience. Perhaps it is the gold that entices you."
Riley wondered now if they knew about his dream. The only person he had ever mentioned descriptive parts of it to, was to his wife Maureen. But no matter what the state of their marriage was, she would never have mentioned it to another citizen. Not that he had actually mentioned anything but the buildings, monuments and parklands in his recurring dream world.
"Yes," continued Inspector Clark. "But gold or no gold, if you were ever to meet with such a metal monstrosity, would you be ready for such a meeting, for an incredible interrogation that would make a HEP interrogation no more than a cosy little love-in by comparison? Just remember what would be at stake! For that despicable metal catastrophe would be planning somehow to produce the most devastating blow the human race has ever suffered. Perhaps a truly knockout blow. Do you understand the immense responsibility you would inherit if you have to prevent such a blow? For you, when you consider it, would be personally responsible for that blow, because as you know, the metal madness cannot directly, by its own hand, deliver such a deadly blow?"
Riley thought about the consequences of such a scenario and realised he had never considered the catastrophic stakes before. His obsession was simply to come face to face with the Last Robot of the Unmentionable Myth. Unmentionable orally; but nevertheless, written and individually read as the "Myth of the Last Robot". Of course, he had thought of the gold. But he didn't believe that was his main fantasy, it was just a nice bonus he might come in possession of. Riley decided to remain silent.
"Is there anything you'd like to confess, Riley?" asked Inspector Clark.
"Nothing," insisted Riley.
"Then we are done."
Inspector Clark gave his tablet display one last cursory glance, tapped a few areas of the display, and then with a sigh of resignation tucked away the device back into his navy-blue boiler suit's left breast pocket. He commanded Riley to hand back the Testing Cap, which Inspector Clark pushed quietly back into the desk drawer.
"On this occasion," said Inspector Clark, "you have survived a visit to a Remote Correction Asylum by the skin of your twenty-four identical Perfectly formed teeth. You have your wits and the shelter of the Perfect Laws of Citizen Privacy to thank for that. If we had middle names in this Perfect Age of ours, yours would be 'Luck'. Now lift yourself Perfectly and quietly out of your chair and go home."
Riley got up from his chair so silently he may as well have been in a vacuum.
"Have a Perfect day, Mr Riley," said Inspector Clark casually.
"Thank you, and may the same be true of you," replied a relieved Riley, automatically.
Riley nodded his head submissively to Inspector Clark. He swivelled around on his heavy black high-strength polymer boots, then headed out of the HEP office marching in his best Perfect way, trying not to show the slightest sign of the relief he was feeling.
Minutes later, he approached the clocking out machine, an optical eye retina scanner. He bowed down and looked closely into the protruding camera with his right eye and pressed a small circular yellow button. There was a dull pulse of light and a nearby display flashed up the green lettered message: "James Riley, male, grey, Monday 21-07-1724, time clocked out: 11:22:15 am."
Riley slipped out through the sliding "EXIT" doors of the Synthetic Foods Processing Factory as if he was no more than one of its Perfect goods.
He didn't know he had clocked out for the very last time.
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I hope you enjoyed this Chapter. I welcome any votes, comments or constructive criticisms (style, spelling, grammar and punctuation errors).
T. J. P. CAMPBELL.