Ducks By The Lake [Part Five: The Shared Experience]

Expect the unexpected...

I got to Winchester Road first. It was a cold, rainy night. But not acid rain. Normal rain thankfully. I wouldn't dare risk going out in a torrential acid rain shower. But I got there ten minutes before we were due to meet as I wanted to see who I thought it was. And then if I had the chance to run I'd take it.

It was deathly silent for a new housing estate. You normally saw the kids out playing until 9pm but there were no kids today. Probably due to the rain. My kids weren't out playing at this time. They were watching the television with Freya. And as far as she was concerned, I was going out to the pub for a quick drink. I don't think she'd be too happy if she knew where I really was.

Before I knew it, 7:25 hit. And no-one was there. I was stood alone. Had I been played by someone or was I about to be the victim of a long range gunshot? Who knew. I was rather hoping to have been played...

"You're early..."

I looked to my left, where the voice came from. A man was standing there. He must have been in his mid 20s and had short blonde hair as opposed to the teenager from the alley, who I believed I was meeting. I looked at him up and down very confused.

"Do I know you?"

"No. You don't. But you do now".

He walked over to me and stood facing me. He held out his hand as to shake mine. I did very carefully.

"My name is Callum. What is yours?"

"My name's not important. You're not the man I saw die in the alleyway..."

"Yes that's right. I'm sorry I had to resort to such crude methods to get you here. But I had to make it sound like it was him in order to get you here".

This was obviously part of a much bigger plan. Perhaps much bigger than I imagined at the time.

"Why did you need me here?"

"Although it was harsh of me to pretend to be my fallen brother to get you here, much of what was in the letter was still true. I did see you at the alleyway. And I could see that you wanted to help him".

"Wait, you saw me? I didn't see you?"

"I'm aware of that. I was in the shadows, much like you tried to be. You were never going to see me as you were too fixated on the event. My eyes were...wondering..."

"Wondering? Someone was dying and you were fixated on me?! What's so special about me?"

"You came. You wanted to help. That's more than any normal Second Bander would've done".

"I'm not a normal Second Bander".

"No you're not. Tell me, why did you want to help?"

"What makes you think I wanted to help?"

"Because you came to see what was happening. Most people would work out that the noise was coming from the other side of the fence and just carry on with their lives. You didn't. You came to see what was happening. That can only insinuate you had the intention of helping if you could".

He was right. I did want to help. The guilt inside me started to well up again. The fact that I couldn't help him and what could've happened. It got worse and worse the more we talked about it.

"So, what, you've come to thank me for trying?"

"No. Well, yes, but no also. Don't you want to know why he was attacked? That boy? Don't you want to know why a teenager was systematically beaten up by a gang in an alleyway?"

"Well, I can guess!"

"Oh?"

"That boy must've owed money or something. There are rumors that there's a drug problem in the Third Band areas with drug cartels growing in size and number. He must've got caught up in it and crossed that guy. And paid with his life. It's not difficult to work out. Or something like that. Maybe he was part of the crew and double crossed him?"

The man look unimpressed.

"You've watched too many films..."

"What?"

Callum started to circle me slowly. My head turned to follow him.

"This is exactly the problem. The problem with your society. You're fed a mass diet of popular culture from which you form stereotypes, prejudices, ideals, and you use these in your everyday life. Films, television, radio, the internet, any valid source of information you can get your hands on. You consume what they tell you and you accept it as gospel truth. Why else would they say it if it wasn't true?"

"That's not true at all!"

"You've just done it".

"No I haven't!"

"You just assumed that the boy was killed due to a drugs cartel or by double crossing the boss. You've just compared real life to the Godfather films".

"Well...they're good films..."

"And you're also assuming that this kind of thing only happens in the Third Band areas".

"Doesn't it?"

"Would you believe me if I said no?"

"Probably not".

"Why?"

"Because we'd have heard about it. In the Second Band press or the Second Band news programmes!"

"There we are again".

"What?"

"Dependent on the media for information. If it wasn't on the news or in the papers then it didn't happen".

"Violence is a Third Band pastime".

I couldn't believe what I was saying. I always thought I was more sympathetic to Third Banders. Maybe I wasn't as understanding as I'd previously thought...

"And who told you that?"

"I've seen it for myself many times".

"And you've never seen it happen in the Second Band area?"

"NO!"

"Why?"

"Because we're much more civilized than them!"

Callum smiled and chuckled. I realised what I'd just said as he did. I looked surprised when it hit me. 

"And what makes you say that? Whatever possessed you to say that?"

"I...I...I don't know..."

"I'll tell you. It's the media. The media control this country and they control this world. Feeding you certain bits of information that they want you to see or hear for their own political and personal motives. The truth hasn't anything to do with it. They have complete control over all the information in the world. They can take anything they want and twist it to any angle that they see fit. Now, let's take the Bands for example. You're told that the Peaks are the pinnacle of civilization and the group of society that everyone should look up to, while at the same time knowing you'll never get there. You're then told that the Second Band are in the middle. Those who are well to do but are the stereotypical family structure. House, kids, dog, car. Then the Third Banders are savages. They're slaves, animals, cretins, every derogatory term under the sun. There are whole documentaries on Peak and Second Band television saying that Third Banders fight for anything and that they have no formal structure of society. It's a free for all. And no-one's questioned it because no-one can. If they do there'll be hell to pay. But they also WON'T question it because they're none the wiser. They don't know any different. It's the perfect social pacification. It's the perfect way to make sure that people understand their place in life and the place of others above and below them. You look up to the Peaks, and look down on the Third Banders".

It was making sense. The more I thought about what he was saying, the more I understood and related to.

"And it's the same across the bands. The shared experience. The Peaks are told they are the best in the world. There's no-one better than them and there's no-one to challenge them. While the Third Banders are told that they are the scum of society that no-one ever cared about and no-one ever will. Only staying alive because there are still some level-headed people out there against a potential holocaust. The one shared experience in this world is the knowledge of where everyone in society stands compared to the others. The Government and the Media are the best of bedfellows. And no-one can see it. Except for a handful of people like me. And, I hope, you".

I was still trying to process what he'd said. What he was saying was challenging everything I was ever taught. But, at the same time, he was telling me what I already knew.

"Is this what you wanted to tell me?"

"No, no. That was me going off on a tangent about stereotypes. I wanted to meet you with because I know you have questions. And I promised you that I'd offer answers if I can".

Even though it seemed truthful that he wanted to answer my questions, it was obvious he'd already thought of the questions that I was going to ask. And I knew he was influencing that. He was getting me to ask the right questions.

"Ok. Fine. We'll play it your way. Why was that teenager killed in the alley?"

Callum smiled.

"A good question to start with".

He smiled for a moment before turning serious once again.

"He was killed because he was different".

"Different? Different how?"

Callum smiled once again.

"Another fine question. He was different because of his physicality. He wasn't...shall we say...normal".

I could see where this Q+A session was going. Like I said, he already knew the questions I was going to ask, so he already had answers. Open answers too annoyingly.

"Normal?"

"He wasn't like the other Third Banders".

"What? Did he try and climb the social ladder?"

"Haha. No. No-one in the Third Band does that! They know it's impossible. No. He was different for other reasons".

"What reasons?"

"You're starting to get the hang of this".

"Thanks?"

"But it is now I should warn you. THIS is the answer that will change EVERYTHING you thought you knew about your society. Once I answer this question, there's no going back. At all. Ever".

I thought very carefully about what he said.

"If you don't want to know, now is the time to go home. Back to your life. Back to your little bubble with Freya, Peter and Abigail".

My face turned angry...

"How do you know my family's names?!"

"I've done my research".

"Are you threatening my family?!"

"No. By no means. I'm only saying that if you don't want your life to radically change then now is the time to leave. I won't judge you. It's not in my...nature...to judge".

I calmed down and thought very carefully. I did not know at this point what he was going to tell me. And, for the most part now, I wish I never knew. But, once again, my curiosity got the better of me. I felt I had no choice but to carry on. 

I sighed for a moment as I thought some more. But soon after, my decision was made.

"Ok".

"Ok?"

"Tell me. What reasons?"

Callum smiled once more.

"That took guts. I respect you more now".

I acknowledged the compliment with a nod. But that was secondary at that moment. This was it. The point of no return. My life would never be the same again. God only knows that now...

"The young man was a friend. My brother. My partner in crime so to speak. And he was beaten up for the most...human...of reasons. He was a victim of his own nature. But his own nature was something that was out of his control. My friend...this is why he was attacked...and this is why YOU need to know..."

Check back in on Saturday for Part Six!

Ducks By The Lake [Part Four: This Side Of The Fence]

Sometimes, you have to open your mind...

It took a while to get the event out of my head. The event of that poor young man being brutally murdered by that gang leader. All these different thoughts kept racing through my head as I continually replayed the event again and again. Who was he? What did he do? Why was he singled out? But everytime I thought of this I had a massive sense of guilt too. On two different levels. One, that I didn't help that young man, and two, the guilt I'd feel at the end if I was shot, not being able to stay with Freya and the kids. And then came the nightmares of me dying, leaving them behind and how they'd cope, or rather not cope, without me. It was a scary thing to think about but I knew it had to stop. Otherwise it would mar the enjoyment of my life for the time being. (As if one could 'enjoy' their life given the society I lived in). But there were two things that I couldn't shift, no matter how hard I tried.

"OH, TROUBLE DOESN'T EVEN BEGIN TO COVER IT, WIRE!"

And

"Let's see how many times we can kick you until you can't feel anymore? Call it 'scientific curiosity'".

Every time I thought about it I got more and more curious as to why he called it 'scientific curiosity'. We're all taught human anatomy in school and, well, it's not rocket science to know that if you kick someone enough, it'll give them internal bleeding. So why be curious? Maybe Third Band education was as bad as the rumors suggested...

It was a Monday morning. A week after I'd seen the incident and I'd decided to do my best to put it behind me. It was 6am, time we always got up in our house. Because my two children, Peter and Abigail, would get up at 5:30 every morning and wait half an hour before getting us up in order to get ready for school. They knew how to occupy themselves with the television in the meantime. But I remember this Monday very clearly because it was a weird day. The weather was more erratic than normal and the acid rain levels were higher than usual. (And as you know reading this in the future, when the acid rain levels are high you stay indoors. Unless Government policy has changed...) The warnings were set to go right through lunchtime. So, for the meantime, we weren't going anywhere. The kids certainly weren't going to school and, well, Freya and I didn't have a job to go to so...

It was kind of family tradition that when the acid rain came, the kids and I would watch it out of the window while Freya made her famous 'Rain Soup'. (Which is just vegetable soup but we only have it on the occasion of acid rain). We kept the curtains closed for the most part, with a little gap so we could see the luminescent rain. Every time the rain came, the kids would ask me why the rain is like it is. But even I cannot explain the concept of acid rain to a 6 and 4 year old!

But the reason this Monday was weird because of something Abigail said. Abigail, the 4 year old, rarely lied which was weird for a child. She was always very honest and never even told a white lie! If you asked her if she'd eaten one of the biscuits from the jar she'd always admit to it. She was either a terrible liar or just too honest for her own.

This one day though, we were looking out the window at the rain, when Freya called me and Peter in to help her with something. She wanted me to help with chopping the carrots and wanted Peter to get some swede from the storage tank in the basement. We did so, but I remember hearing Abigail mumbling away to herself, which she very rarely did anyway. I couldn't hear much of what she was saying so I assumed that she was trying to work out why the rain was like it is. But then, eventually, I heard her say:

"It's ok! I'm not going to hurt you!"

Freya noticed as well. We looked at each other, put the knives down and went to see what was going on. Abigail was still looking out the window. And as we approached, she waved at something. Freya and I already looked confused and slightly worried.

"Abbie, honey..." Freya was looking at me more worried now, "who are you waving at?"

Abigail turned around and smiled at us.

"The man", she said happily.

Freya and I looked each other more worried than before.

"What man, sweetie?" I asked.

"The man outside!"

I could tell Freya was scared now because, if Abigail had recognized them, she'd have said their name. I looked at Abigail again.

"Was it Mr Monaghan from next door?"

Abigail shook her head.

"Was it Mrs Owens from across the road?" Freya asked, her voice breaking with fear as she did. Abigail shook her head again.

"Mr Craig? Mr Knight? Mrs Merry? Mr or Mrs Gordon?" I asked. Again, Abigail shook her head.

"Abbie, was it anyone we've had in this house before?"

"No! I've never seen him before. But he seems nice!"

Abigail turned back to see if he was still there.

"Aww...he's gone now..." She exclaimed sadly.

Freya and I turned to each other and started to discuss what had just happened. Freya was worried that someone was spying on the house. This sounds absurd but this was common practice at this point, (not sure if it still is), is someone had assaulted a robot. The spies were normally from the Robot Defense League and would stalk the houses of people known to have assaulted robots. Obviously, I'd just come out of prison. I was going to be on the list.

"What if they're coming for you?!" Freya exclaimed in fear. "What if they're going to take you away like they did Mrs Gall from St James Road?"

"Listen to me, no-one is going to take me away! I'm not going anywhere. Besides, we're missing one important thing in this whole situation. And that's Abigail saw someone OUTSIDE in the ACID RAIN". I had to do something to try and calm her down and reassure her. but Freya looked confused. "You know as well as I do that humans can't go out there due to the high acidity! If someone was out there, they'd be toast!"

Freya started to come around. She could see the logic I was presenting and started to accept it.

"But then, who did Abbie see? She's convinced she saw someone out there!"

"She said she saw a man. Only robots can go out in the acid rain because of their lead covering. As I've said, no human can survive that!"

"But who did she see then?!" Freya wanted a reason. Understandably, she wanted to be reassured.

"Freya, listen, there have been numerous studies and pieces of research into the effects of acid rain, and one of them is hallucinations from the chemicals in the rain. Not everyone's affected by it but some people are. Obviously, Abigail is! That's all it is. Her hallucinating".

Freya calmed down and accepted this. She took a few deep breaths and decided to go back to the soup. At this point, Peter returned with the swede and with an envelope. I looked down at him and he handed me the envelope.

"This was on the floor..." He said before walking into the kitchen to give Freya the swede. I looked down at the envelope and saw that it was blank on the front. No name, no address, no post code, nothing. Part of me wondered if the postman had put it through our door in a rush before the rain started but I couldn't be sure. I also couldn't be sure that it wasn't a poisoned letter from the Robot Defense League. That was one of their popular methods of attacking their targets, by lacing letters with a small amount of poison ivy. Enough to get you hospitalized but not enough to kill you. As always, my curiosity got the better of me. I just had to open it, one way or another, I had to.

"I'm just going to get something from the basement. Back in a moment". I called out to Freya. I looked back once more at Peter, who'd rejoined Abigail at the window to stare at the marvel that was the rain. Freya acknowledged the statement and I went down to the basement as proclaimed.

When I got down there, it was cold and the light was still on. Peter always forgot to switch the light off but I let him off this time as it was opportune. I reached the bottom of the stairs and placed the letter on the side while I attempted to find some gloves to open it with. It might not stop me from being poisoned, but at least I could try and minimize the damage as much as I could. I found some, put them on my sweaty hands and went back to the envelope. I was suddenly struck with a bout of fear and I questioned whether I should open it. What if it wasn't meant for me? What if it was someone's bank details? Well, I'd have to do my best to explain I suppose. My curiosity was fired up and, when that happened, there was no stopping it.

I peeled the tab carefully as not to damage it too much in case I had to reseal it. It took about 30 seconds to open it but the entire time it felt like I was trying to disarm a bomb. I was sweating more than I had with Abigail's experience and it took me back to the events of the week before. Feeling the same feelings twice in 7 days would not be good for my heart but I had to carry on. I'd thrown myself into this situation now and I had to see it through. I unfolded the paper and looked at its contents. It wasn't a bank letter, nor could I smell any poison ivy. I thought I was safe. It was hand-written but it wasn't named either. There was no name of the recipient or of who wrote it. But I knew it was for me. Because it read as follows:

I saw you. I saw you there on the other side of the fence.
I could see you wanted to help me but I understand why you couldn't.

This was uncanny. I couldn't believe what I was reading...

I imagine you have questions. LOTS of questions.
Questions for which I can supply answers. All I ask is for a
short amount of your time tomorrow night.
Meet me at the entrance of the new housing development on 
Winchester Road at 7:25pm and I'll do my
best to answer your queries. Privacy and solitude is
paramount. Come alone.

It wasn't signed. I had no idea who it was from. But my head and my heart raced. Who could it have been from? It appeared to be from that young man...but he was dead...wasn't he? I saw him killed! It couldn't have been from him. But then...it must be from the mafia boss! They'd found me! But they weren't allowed into the Second Band areas so how could they have delivered it? How could anyone have delivered it?

That's when it dawned on me. Abigail really did see someone out of the window. She wasn't tripping or hallucinating, she was telling the truth as always. My heart sank at the prospect but my constant curiosity overrode that. I did have questions. Lots of questions. For instance, who the bloody hell's personally delivering shady letters in acid rain? I knew I shouldn't go because, if it was the mafia, I wouldn't be coming back. But I also felt the need to get some answers once and for all about the things I've always been too afraid to ask. I knew that if I didn't go it would drive me insane for the rest of my life. So I had to go. It was the only way to help me sleep at night. If I wasn't killed that is! I knew that I couldn't tell Freya about this letter. She'd be terrified. So this was something else I had to burden on my own for the time being. And so, against my better judgement, I decided I was going to meet this individual.

Nothing could prepare me for what I was about to find out. I never could've dreamed in a millions years the truth I was about to learn. The reality of what goes on in our neat little world behind the scenes. And I'm not sure you'll be able to either...

Ducks By The Lake [Part Three: Different Worlds]

The kindness of strangers...

You could look in to the Third Band areas. Just as easily as you could look into the Peak areas. You just go across your area and look at each. And you'd see such a stark contrast when you looked in. If you can imagine the Second Band area having slightly modern decor throughout its architecture and its general aesthetics, while the Third Band areas looked like, for lack of a better example, the Jewish Ghettos of old that you sometimes see in history books. A squalid place full of rubbish, dirt and sewage. How the people in there survived I'll never know.

If you went across the Second Band areas to look through the fences and borders into the Peak area you'd see marvelous architecture. Mansions, top notch detached houses and 5 star apartments with swimming pools, bars and acres of land. A completely different place than to the one less than 2 miles across town. I've already mentioned that Peaks and Second Banders could mix but no-one could mix with the Third Banders. That'd be like...bestiality or something. Nobody would dare to! They were like the lepers in the time of Jesus, ostracized and hated by society for no other reason than existing.

I often used to go to the fences just to stare into what seemed to be the abyss. I used to belong to this group before everyone got segregated. For the first few years of my life I was on benefits, in low-rent housing and ostracized, but then my dad got a better job and we went up the "social ladder" as he used to describe it. I'm glad he did. Although I have almost complete sympathy for Third Banders, I often go to the fence to remind myself how lucky I am today. To be who I am, how lucky I am to have Freya and the kids. Which sounds kind of harsh I know but I see the conditions they have to live in and I'm glad that I have a cosy house in the Second Band area with a cosy little family and a dog. I have a life that many of these people could only dream of.

And it's weird knowing that they won't have the same opportunity my dad did all those years ago. If my dad hadn't have been promoted then I'd have been in this position. I don't know about Freya. She was already "middle class" so her lifestyle was already secure so I don't know. But I can't imagine my life without Freya even now. But none of these people would even be considered for a promotion now! No-one would dare offer a Third Bander the chance to better his or her life and that of their families. Imagine the Christmas parties...

I always went to the same part of the fence when I visited it. It was in the middle of small park with luscious grass and greenery which is a nice calm oasis to the chaos of the rest of the town. So, more often than not, I'd get my lunch and take it down there, just so I could watch the Third Banders live their solitary lives. Most of the time there weren't any major incidents when I observed them. You'd get the odd fight at the boozer between a couple of drunkards but nothing much beyond that. Sometimes, I'd even narrate the events in my head like a wildlife documentary to pass the time and to make light of a situation in my head.

"And here, we have the two males communicating angrily. Third Banders often use this kind of rhetoric when disgruntled in order to scare the other, sometimes to great effect. Especially when one of their females are under threat from another. If the scare tactic doesn't work, then the Third Banders will adopt another style of confrontation, but only as a last primal resort. They have duel to the death. Or at most a minor treatable maiming..."

But I remember there was one day where there was no macho duel or minor maiming. In fact, I didn't see anything...initially. But as I was just thinking of packing up and going back home, I heard some scuffling from further down the fence as well as angry voices.

"YOU THINK YOU'RE SPECIAL? YOU THINK YOU'RE SO CLEVER? WHAT MAKES YOU SO FUCKING DIFFERENT?!"

I looked to where I could hear the voices coming from. It was down a wide alley way where the fence continued. I'd never ventured down there before because, well, I'd never needed to until now it seemed.

"I SAID, WHAT MAKES YOU SO FUCKING DIFFERENT, HUH? ANSWER ME!"

I didn't plan on getting involved that day, but God only knows what would've if I hadn't! The voices appeared to get angrier the more I thought about whether or not I should involve myself in the affair. But, I think I can only say that, my better (and somewhat curious) nature got the better of me. I walked towards the voices, wondering what I'd find down there. Was I about to witness a murder or something worse? There were stories about gangs in the Third Band areas who would go out and pick on individual people for no reason other than something they said, or the way they looked at someone. Like some kind of disturbed mafia. But I couldn't help but think of these stories. If they had guns, I was going to be in the firing line just for walking in on them. And I seemed perfectly ok with it in my head. Oddly.

I got closer and closer still. My heart raced faster and faster as the voices got louder and louder.

"THAT DON'T CUT IT! WHY SHOULD WE TRUST YOU?"

There was a pause before I heard a second voice.

"Please...I never meant to cause you trouble!"

This was a gang reprisal. I stopped for a moment and thought very carefully about what my next move was going to be. If I carried on and showed myself, there was every possibility that I'd be shot and killed. If I turned back now, that person might be killed and I'd never be able to live with myself if I knew that I could've helped him.

"OH, TROUBLE DOESN'T EVEN BEGIN TO COVER IT, WIRE!"

I came to the end of the alleyway. I looked around the corner on the other side of the fence and I saw three big men standing around a timid looking teenager. A few moments after I started looking, one of the men kicked the teenager hard in the stomach. Another man (presumably the leader of the troupe) crouched down and looked at the teen.

"Does it hurt? Huh? That's what interests me most. You look like you're in pain...but what if it's up here? In your head?"

The teen comforted his stomach, shaking with fear.

"I don't know what you mean..."

I heard the crouched man laugh again as he rose from his position to look down on him once more.

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about...Let's see how many times we can kick you until you can't feel anymore? Call it 'scientific curiosity'."

The teen looked terrified at the prospect. But, before he could say anything in protest, the two big men started to kick him in different places. You could hear him screaming for a short time, but soon it fell silent. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. There was no positive spin I could put on this in my head or no funny narration I could caption this with. This was sheer brutality on their part. I'd never seen anything like it before, I'd only ever heard about it in rumor! I didn't think Third Banders were capable of this! It was at this moment that I realised how implicitly racist I'd been in narrating them like a nature documentary. Because it was a completely different environment, a jungle, where anyone will do anything to stay alive. Basic social Darwinism. The survival of the fittest. And, sadly, this young boy didn't seem to be high on the food chain.

After about a minute and a half of solid kicking, the leader called them back. They looked at their victim before leaving him be to rot. I looked again at the young teen who seemed to just lie there, almost like he was sleeping. After a few more moments, I came out of the shadows and walked right up to the fence where I gazed upon him much more. I stood there in shock as I looked at the result of their wild and ferocious attack. My faith in humanity as a race broke at this point.

How could one human do this to another? But then I remembered the social Darwinism. Of course one could. I'd also forgotten, being in my cosy little bubble, that humans could be a brutal people. To be honest, I still don't know why I was surprised. I think it was the fact I'd seen it rather than hearing about it. Seeing is believing.

"Hey...can you hear me?"

I know it seemed ridiculous to ask, but I just wanted to check he was ok in case he wasn't dead. But I didn't get an answer. I asked one more time but still to no avail. He was gone. But I still couldn't believe what I'd seen. I'd never seen anything quite like that in my life. It just showed how different our lives were to theirs. Nothing like that ever happened in our area. It was unheard of. You had some domestics occasionally but not gangland warfare!

I looked at the teen one last time before I turned around and went back to whence I came. I couldn't shift the guilt of not getting involved sooner for the entire walk home or the rest of that night. I was quiet for most of the evening before Freya finally asked me what was wrong with me. She too was shocked when I told her.

"What have I told you about that wretched fence? Time and time again I tell you not to go near it because you never know what could happen! Promise me you won't go there again?"

I knew that she meant well, but maybe this time she was right. I could've died that day. Thankfully I didn't. But next time I might not have been so lucky. So I knew she was right deep down. And, to be honest, it was probably just as well.

Because, next time, the other side of the fence would come to me...

Ducks By The Lake [Part Two: The Rat-Eaters]

It's never too late to change something...

Prison was a breeze. It always was back then. It's amazing crime levels remained constant to be perfectly honest with you. You got half an hour's exercise a day, 3 square meals (sometimes literally in the shape of a square) and you got time to socialize. I don't see what's wrong with it personally. Not that I'd like to have stayed longer or anything because I wouldn't. I did want another job after I came out. Society was judgmental enough as it was without having a major criminal record next to my name. It's not something I needed really but I still got it.

But it gave me time to reflect on what I'd done. Which sounds really cliched I know, and it also gave me time to think about what was up with those freaking droids and what they were planning. You have to remember that I didn't know then what I know now so anything that happened consequently was beyond my control and beyond the realms of my knowledge at this point. But still I thought away as much as I could. Why did the Governments bring in these robots anyway? Why did they put them into every job sector? And why would they phase out their own species at a higher expense than that of keeping humans on?

Well, maybe that was it. Money. That's what it always comes down to isn't it? Maybe the fat cats and decision makers brought in the robots so they could lay off the human staff and live off the exponential profits they'd make. Why pay a robot? It doesn't need to eat or drink and it doesn't need any kind of amenities at all. That definitely seems the most logical but it's also further from the truth than anything else I could've come up with. That would only work if the general public had no money or provisions in order to keep them and their families alive and satisfied. Perhaps, considering you might be reading this far in the future for history coursework or something, I should remind you about the state of the society I occupied at this point in time...

It was a simple yet mundane existence. As I've said before, humanity was gradually becoming obsolete. The robots were taking the jobs little by little and we, as humans, had nothing else to do except watch it happen! No-one worked. Except in jobs that involved water. Because, for all the technology humans had developed by the turn of the century, the robots could not cope with being underwater. You couldn't have a robot lifeguard at a swimming pool or at a beach for instance as the chips and stuff inside it would fry. You also couldn't have robot ski instructors as the snow would melt on them if they fell over and scramble their parts and circuits. The only liquid they could be safe around was oil, like the cartoons they used to show on television centuries ago. Because they needed oil to operate. It's funny because, like those cartoons, the robots were of a crude design. The aesthetics of a standard robot wasn't something to marvel at or coo over. It's was just, for lack of a better word, basic. The only complex things about them were the data cores they had in their positronic brains.

Each robot that was made was given a primary function in order to make it useful. One robot in one part of a factory could be specifically conditioned to be a lumberjack while another robot in a room across the complex could be programmed to become a receptionist. It had that function and that function alone during work hours but, outside of work hours, it could act like a normal human. They'd go to football matches, school concerts, even to the pub. (Though they couldn't drink alcohol you understand, so they'd be given an empty bottle and pretend to drink out of it in order to fit in with the humans around them). Every single robot in the world had a purpose which, by the time they became popular and widespread, was more than any human had.

So, what did WE do during the day? Well, while the robots went off and did their 9-5, we did anything. It was a complete mess. The children went to school, (which is frankly odd to me because why send the kids to get an education if the robots are going to have the jobs anyway?), the women just did little odd jobs around the house and wherever they were needed and the men just did what they could. (Although this usually meant ending up at a pub or a golf course or something just wasting money).

Money came in from the central Government as a never ending severance package/benefit/commodity and food was rationed in order to accommodate the fact that every family in a certain band was getting a set income. There were 3 "bands" set up that you and your household were placed in according to the amount of income you were receiving before your replacement. There was Band 1, which normally consisted of the highest earning families in the country who earned copious amounts of money like CEOs or Politicians, Band 2 consisted of what people in the 20th and 21st centuries would refer to as the "middle class" and Band 3 were the ones who received the lowest amount and/or lived off some kind of Government benefit in order to survive.

Food was rationed according to the bands as well as other stuff like entertainment packages and luxury items like sofas or gadgets. The people in Band 1 got the most food and luxuries while Band 3 got the least. This was mostly due to the fact that the people in Band 1 were now seen as a major target market for various different companies who wanted people to buy their banal shit in order to occupy themselves in the boredom of day to day life. Despite the changing shape of the world, the form of human hierarchy remained more or less the same. With the exception that the Bands were also segregated into different area. People in Band 1 were in one part of a place, Band 2 in another and Band 3 in the slums.

People from Band 1 and Band 2 could interact but Band 3 had to remain right where they were and weren't allowed to associate themselves with anyone above their own standing. Well, why should they? The people in Band 3 were all thieves and money-grabbing benefits bastards who expected everyone else to pay for their luxuries rather than earning it themselves. Why should they mix with the upper echelons of society when they come from a whole different gene pool? No. You couldn't have the cretins and thieves mixing with the elite and right. It was unheard of!

I belong in Band 2. I'm from a "middle class" family. And I want to make it clear now that I never agreed with the popular opinion of the Third Banders. (That was the colloquial term for them. Just like I'm a Second Bander. Although, strangely, those in Band 1 weren't called First Banders as you might imagine. They were called Peaks. Like they'd reached the peak of a mountain because they'd worked all their lives to get to where they were in society. Which, obviously, wasn't always true). You'd have thought that, with the robots taking all the jobs, that the perception of Third Banders would change because, then, everyone was getting some form of benefit. But no. The Peaks still looked down on Third Banders as animals and insects. So did many Second Banders. But I didn't. I never believed it. (I was originally a Third Bander. And I worked my way up to Band 2. As did my wife, Freya). Despite what the popular media would have you believe.

Oh yes. The media. If it wasn't the Central Government or the big businesses who ruled the country, it was the media. The media was as it's always been; the happy medium between the ruling classes and the Banders. Telling us what was happening in the world and, ultimately, shaping the way we perceived it. (Because everything you see on television's correct right?) But it did more than that. It also reminded people in society where their places were within it. The Peaks remained at the very top telling us what to say, what to think and what to believe, the Second Banders remained in the middle ground and enjoyed a mediocre existence and the Third Banders were at the very bottom. The diseased. The rat-eaters. The undesirables. The people who shouldn't really be alive, but are allowed to live by the Peaks.

That was the scariest thing about the society I lived in. The Peaks could change their mind at any moment and cull the Third Banders. It's been talked about numerous times in the popular media and in Government. But, luckily for the Third Banders, the robots that were now in charge did not wish to pursue an openly Nazi-esque eugenics policy. But the issue would come up again from time to time.

"Is it time we eradicated all Third Banders?" - 'Peak Mail' (19th November 2112)

"The only destiny for them is death". - 'The Second Bander' (30th July 2113)

"Is it time to initiate Protocol 198 and end their misery?" - 'British Daily Press' (18th January 2114)

These were only some of the headlines banded about in the media regarding the issue. People would openly discuss it, sometimes even taunt the Third Banders with the prospect, without any remorse or thought as to what they were saying. No-one cared if they upset a Third Bander. They probably didn't understand what you were saying anyway, with the being so uneducated and everything.

But what if this was a ruse? Maybe the media were distracting us with the Third Banders because there was a much bigger issue at hand? A more controversial one? Something hidden? The robots ran the papers now and had complete control over what the nation could see or read. And would they be prepared to hide their own agenda away from human eyes? What if the Third Bander debates were just a cover for something more sinister? Because it's a well known tactic. Control the media, control the people.

What if they had us right where they wanted us?

Maybe they did...

Original criminal record picture adapted from: http://jmjmad1.deviantart.com/art/OC-Police-Profile-Blank-Meme-339342166

Ducks By The Lake [Part One: Prologue]

You need to start paying attention...

It's an interesting dilemma isn't it? You're born, you grow up, make a load of mistakes along the way and, eventually, you try to become some kind of high-functioning humanoid who can go out into the wide world and make the most out of it. At least, that's what we were told when we were little. Don't you remember? Don't you remember that this world is beautiful and diverse and articulate? I remember being told that. Many moons ago. Long before I had the opportunity to meet my girlfriend, who would become my fiancee, who would become my wife, who would become the mother of my children. Before I had the opportunity to change my job at regular intervals to accommodate our changing circumstances. Before I had the chance to have a "life".

Well, what is a life now? What does life mean? It's taken for granted. Or at least that's how it seems to me. Something which people believe is some kind of a birthright and something they must hang onto at any cost. Long gone are the days when people believed that they were champions from the moment of conception because they were the sperm that won. Long gone are the days where people believed life was something to be cherished. It's all long gone. Now, it's all about breathing, eating, shitting and sleeping. There's no finesse to it anymore if there ever was any. If it's not about the aforementioned pastimes it's about getting the next big thing. It has been since the last century started. 100 years of the same old thing time and time again. I'm not even sure if anyone's aware of what an iPod is anymore.

Of course there are reasons as to why no-one enjoys life now. How can you enjoy something which isn't yours and probably never was? Everything's controlled now. Jobs, politics, the environment, money, everything. Not like some kind of Orwellian nightmare or anything. Well, actually, if Issac Asimov wrote 1984 then that's the kind of world one could compare it to. But ever since all the nations of the world employed robots on a permanent basis, humanity has become irrelevant. Because robots are programmed to do human jobs, better. No matter what it is.

It started off small with robots being introduced into construction work and maintenance work. The London Underground was the first major network to introduce robots to their workforce and it just kind of spread from there. Soon you had robot chefs, robot teachers, even robot politicians. The whole Government of Britain is run by robots now. (Which is sort of good in a sense because at least the robots are programmed to think logically rather than by trial and error). Soon it spread globally until eventually, humanity was phased out altogether. Now, we're all just ducks by the lake. Sitting there bobbing along on the surface without any real purpose to life except to produce kids and eat bread constantly.

I can't stand robots. Smug bastards. You know, back in the 21st century, people were concerned about Eastern Europeans coming over and taking all the jobs. They used to get really riled up about it! But no-one said a word about the robots. While the Eastern Europeans were described as "immigrants" or "money grabbing scumbags", the robots were simply called "progress". Now isn't that funny. I remember an incident when I was 14 years old about a flight that came into Heathrow carrying Romanian workers and Romanian robots. All of the humans were stopped at the airports and given background checks, 2 were even deported because of a slight error on the form. The robots were not even touched. It was like some kind of technological apartheid. The same reason for coming over yet only one group was scrutinized. Look me in the eye and tell me that's right.

My first proper experience with a robot was while I was teaching in a primary school. I'd been teaching for 8 years at this point and, the year before, the coalition Government (a coalition between the Conservatives and the leading political "think tank"...robot...) decided it would be a good idea to allow robots into schools to become teachers. New models were programmed with the national curriculum and various different discipline methods in order to satisfy the criteria for the job. The only thing they lacked was, ironically, the human touch. So any teaching droid was partnered for a short time with a qualified teacher to observe the human practice of teaching so that they could refer to it at a later date.

Needless to say, most teachers were furious. Headteachers however were overjoyed at the prospect because now any low grade sustained in a school could be put down to "human error" rather than the fact that the schools were spending the money on banal shit like a new robot only area where robot teachers (and robot children) could relax without fear of persecution. Teachers were also annoyed at the prospect because, frankly, the robots were trying to be smarter than the teacher. You'd plan a lesson for months on end making sure everything was ok, only for a cocky robot to undo it all in one comment.

My day began with one of the boys bringing in a cricket bat from playtime and trying to hit another child over the head with it. He was already a problem child but it wasn't helping that he was doing this today. I told him off, he argued back, I confiscated the cricket bat. I put it behind my chair for safe keeping and so I could keep an eye on anyone who tried to retrieve it. The lesson was sex education. Very much a human topic but, nevertheless, the robot sat in and observed. Something which I found rather creepy. It's weird knowing there's a robot in the room observing you. You see it there with its cold dead eyes staring back at you, it's very off-putting. But I carried on regardless. I liked to think of myself as a professional person and carried on through the discomfort. But today was not the day to trifle with me.

I was already annoyed at the fact that bat boy had tried to concuss a fellow student but earlier that day I was stopped by a robot policeman for speeding. I'm always VERY careful with my driving as I always had my two young children in the car with me. I didn't want to risk their lives by speeding in any capacity so I always kept to the speed limit. But this bloody robot was convinced I was speeding by over 10 mph. Luckily, his partner was a human and told me that my details were on file and they'd contact me if I was indeed speeding. So I was already on edge.

So, understandably, it didn't help when I was giving the talk during sex education that my "partner" was shaking its head the entire time as if I was saying everything wrong. I had to get it off my chest because it was seriously starting to rile me up...

"I'm sorry, have I forgotten something?!"

The robot got itself off the chair and found its way to my desk where I joined it.

"The details you are giving on the subject do not correlate with the data I have stored in my core files".

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I think I have considerably more experience in this matter than you do".

"Experience of human copulation is not relevant at this time. What you are teaching the children does not correlate to the data I have stored in my core files".

"It doesn't correlate. Right. So what are you saying exactly?"

In hindsight, I probably should not have asked this question, given what happened next.

"The results of my analysis of your performance in compliance with the national curriculum and state regulation set up by the ruling Government show that you are not teaching the correct material to the children. Something which is a detriment to their overall understanding of the subject as well as their overall education and performance in future examinations".

"I'm teaching it WRONG?! You're a robot! You don't even do stuff like that! Think you could do better, Bicentennial Man?!"

"Insults are not required at this time".

"Not required? I'm insulted by the very notion you're making! Do you know how long I've been teaching this subject? Hmm? I've been a teacher for 8 years! I was teaching when your torso was still being mined out of a cave in Southern Africa! I have much more experience than you do and I know exactly what I'm doing because, contrary to what you're "analysis" shows, I know the national curriculum! I have trained for years to understand and know the curriculum inside and out. So don't you DARE tell me I'm teaching this subject wrong".

"Experience of the national curriculum is not relevant at this time. I have been specially designed and implemented to know and use the national curriculum to any level between the ages of 4 and 18. What you are teaching the children at the current time is wrong and in direct violation of my programming given to me by the Government of the United Kingdom of England, Wales and Northern Ireland".

"OK, I will not have a piece of machinery with no idea what it's like to be a teacher come here and tell me that I'm doing the job I've held for 8 years wrong. It is not acceptable in any way shape or form. Now you will stand down or I will report you for developing a fault in your programming!"

"Experience of teaching is not relevant at this time. The results of my new analysis regarding your current conduct towards me as a fellow member of staff show that you are being unprofessional according to the state regulation set up by the Department of Education, an office of central Government. I am now duty bound to report you to the headmaster of the school and recommend an immediate inquiry into your behaviour and conduct since your joining of this establishment".

I smashed the fucker with the cricket bat. And since robots got given basic citizenship two years previously, I had to spend 3 weeks in prison on an assault charge. In my defence, he wanted me to be professional.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I hate robots. But there was something much more sinister going on with them. I know I sound like a bonkers conspiracy theorist but I was sure of it. I could feel it in my sinews. In my gut. And, one way or another, I fully intended to find out what it was...