Emperor of the World
Chapter 5 of a fictionalized history of the future of a world very much like our own
Previous: Chapter Four - Chapter One
Chapter Five
From Technology And the Murder of Truth, by Daniel Tranh, Chapter Seven: “The Scrubbers”
Control of information on the Internet was long seen as a problem by authoritarian regimes, corporations, and other persons and entities for whom image was crucial. Methods to gain such control included concentrating ownership of internet outlets including social media platforms that had "democratized" information, firewalls to limit spread of known 'democratic information' internet outlets, and 'terms of service reporting', where the entities’ surrogates either 'reported' posts for abuse or encouraged others to report for removal.
In the mid-century a class of automated agents - popularly referred to as "bots" or "webcrawlers" - that came to be known as "scrubbers" were developed and perfected. After years of small-scale trials, these were first deployed on a mass scale in the Election Purge of 20XX, when the States government of President Thedump used them to hunt down and remove accounts and recordings of the 20XX election protests that differed from the official account. Programmed with a list of words and phrases, image fragments or pixel patterns, and video or audio snippets to search for, these scrubbers were released to crawl the internet and remove any documents that contained any of the items on the search list.
It has been estimated that the scrubbers removed from public viewing 65% of unofficial information regarding the election protests within three hours of posting, and nearly 100% within a week. One study suggests that prior to the deployment of scrubbers, 72% of internet users had exposure to "unofficial accounts" of incidents studied, while only 43% of internet users had exposure to unofficial accounts of the election protests, and during the social unrest two years later 17% of internet users had exposure to unofficial accounts of 5 incidents studied.
New Core City
"I hate when you do that," she said softly. He stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window of her bedroom staring straight ahead. "I can feel how sad you are." Her hands slid around him; her cheek nestled into the curve of his neck. He closed his eyes to better savor the feel of her skin pressed against his.
"Shut up, Cee - you know I'm never sad around you," he scolded playfully. Her right hand brushed the smooth skin of his chest. She felt the change in his breathing.
"I know you think about them sometimes." She held him tighter. He sagged into it. "It's ok." She played with his hair, kissed his neck. She whispered next to his ear, "They were your life. Nothing can ever replace that." She kissed him again. "But I'm here for you."
He turned within her arms. Smiling, he said, "I know, Cee. It makes me strong." His kiss showed her how strong. He pulled back and looked down into her face, like it was hard for him to believe she was real. His eyes scanned her face while his fingers touched her skin in different places. "Damn, I've missed you."
"Well, come show me again how much," she purred, and they both smiled. He kissed her and carried her over to her bed. When he laid her down, she reached out and led him between her thighs. Still somewhat soft when her palm touched him, he was full rock solid by the time he touched velvet. She was still wet and hungrily drew him in. She lost herself in the psychedelic assault on her senses from all her excited nerve endings.
They bobbed and weaved, ducked and dove, swinging recklessly from laughter to moaning to screaming. God, she loved sex, and he loved sex, and their fucking always felt so primitive, primal, she exulted in the powerful urge to sink her nails in his ass when he gasped at a deep thrust. Her mind took flight on another ride across the steppes, the two of them bareback above thundering hooves, on a hunt, a pursuit, chasing blood--
The earth moved. No, it really moved. The building shook and a grinding sound moaned through the near-constant whine of the wind between towers.
Ms. Hotbody screamed and clung to his chest. Being a guy, Dash acted completely unfazed. How could he be? He had to be as freaked out as she was. Right? The rumors of falling buildings around New Core City were getting harder to laugh off. He held her tight and whispered soothingly into her ear until she let go of his chest. She pushed herself upright. "No more sleep for me tonight," she snapped, and slipped off the bed. She padded across the carpet to the bathroom.
By the time Ms. Hotbody emerged from her bathroom wrapped in a short purple silk robe with her hair bunned and eyelids brushed, Dash Spice had their favorite breakfast resting on the bar: a steaming mug of rich, black coffee for each of them, and a tray of pastries, nuts and fresh fruit. The aroma of the piéce de resistance hung above it: slices of pancetta sizzling in a frying pan.
"Oh Dash, you're a lifesaver," she cooed. Yes, she cooed, like a dove. She kissed him on the cheek while sliding past him to the refrigerator for coffee creamer. He shook his head, judging her harshly "for the abomination of soiling fine coffee with manufactured pseudo-milk" as he had raged at her more than once. She spied a glimpse of his reaction to her nearness reflected off the oven door and grinned. On the way back to the breakfast nook she dragged her thumbnail across his ass. The terror had receded and she was starting to feel frisky again. She had been so close. So damn close. It left her feeling feline.
It was always like this between them. She missed it fiercely when they were apart. This was better than anything else in her life.
His, too, if he were telling her the truth. She had no reason to doubt him.
She sat on the barstool in a warm glow and reached for a pear slice.
"Speaking of lifesaving," Dash interjected as by sleight-of-hand he made three slices of pancetta appear on the plate before her, "We gotta get you out of here. New Core City isn't safe anymore. Come back to Periphery City."
She scowled. She didn't want to discuss this again. "We're leaving tonight."
He scrunched his face into an otterish scowl. "For a long weekend. That's not what I mean." He sat next to her and crunched the end off a slice of pancetta. "Move back. The City is growing in amazing ways, not crumbling like this place." He locked eyes with her, his face solemn. "I don't like what happened this morning, Cee. It scared me. I don't want to think about you in here alone and be scared."
She looked down at her hands. He was no more scared than she. "I have professional obligations here," she objected, knowing as it left her lips how lame the objection was.
"So fly in for your gigs, stay up in the Heights, then come home. I know you love The City, but c'mon, is it really still the same?" He had a point. The City seemed to be losing the energy, the spirit that had so grabbed her imagination. "Periphery City is alive, it's got that spirit now. We're not a little port town on the edge of the continent anymore." Maybe he was right. Darnell was nagging her, too. Dash leaned in, put his arm around her, and squeezed them tightly against each other. "We'd get to see each other so much more." She looked up into his eyes. "I would like that, Cee. More of you and me."
"I'll think about it," she snapped, and punched him on the leg. She twisted out of his grasp and slithered off the stool. She wanted that more than anything. More of them. She stalked over to the window wall. The twinkling electric stars trapped inside glass and steel structures still provided the only light out there. She studied herself, Dash, and her apartment in the dim reflection shimmering between her and the City.
He kept glancing at her. He didn't understand. It wasn't so easy for her to just go to Periphery City. She had spent her whole youth wanting to get out of there, dreaming of coming to New Core City to "make it." She hated to think of her childhood, of the foster homes and the group homes, and everything she went through. Going back -- But she didn't feel safe here anymore and Dash was right, damn him. She --
As if on cue, a gust of wind screamed by her window and she swore she felt the building shift under her feet. Her breath caught and she froze, a fluttering spreading through her limbs and chest. There it was again. She felt it. Another shift. Was it... real? She turned around to find Dash, find comfort.
He was coming toward her, padding across the carpet like a magnificent snow leopard, as naked as she was. God, he was beautiful, walking to her to offer comfort, but her gaze settled on that glorious penis of his swinging gently in rhythm with his gait, not erect but heavy with blood. She felt her own blood answer, rushing to her pubis and filling her breasts. He opened his arms in a hug, his eyes soft, but her hunger for him pounced. Her lips attacked his and her chest charged his unprotected torso. The fingernails of her left hand slashed at his back while the other hand seized his cock, gripped it. She felt it harden in her grip, triggering an evolutionary rush of chemicals into her brain and blood stream. She found his balls and massaged them while pulling them together roughly.
At first taken aback by her onslaught, he responded in kind with a groan. He pushed her back and pinned her against the thick transparent pane saving them from death. Their mouths dueled, she lifted her feet off the floor and locked them around his waist while her hand desperately guided his cock inside. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as his primitive thrusts forced gasps from her lungs. She made animal noises in his ear while his teeth probed the sinew and gristle of her throat. She just wanted him to fuck her and fuck her, no other thoughts breaking through the roar of blood in her ears and the feel of him surging inside her, their heat merging, the thin, tender flesh of their genitalia seeming to melt into one mass of incredible sensation.
She didn't know how long it lasted but her next awareness was of him tenderly kissing her swollen lips while one hand held her in place between himself and the window and the other hand caressed her hair. She moaned with exhausted pleasure and held him tight while he carried her over to the couch and settled her into the cushions. He lay down with her, cradled her in his arms, and lulled her into sleep.
The first thing she noticed was the smell: familiar, pleasant, vaguely comforting like an imagined hug from her imagined mother. She opened her eyes to identify the source, and in that instant before registering what she saw, recognized the shea butter feel of her sheets. She was curled up in a ball in the middle of her bed, with Dash wrapped around her, his arm under her neck and other hand cupping a breast. She snuggled deeper into him and closed her eyes again. She might have drifted back into sleep briefly.
"You're right, Dash," she whispered. "I should leave here." He shifted. He must have lifted his head off the pillow. She smiled. It had been a very effective test to see if he were awake. She rotated to face him. His eyes were open. She kissed him on the lips, smiled, then lay her head on his chest. He closed his arms around her. She felt his breath skimming across the hair at the top of her head. I miss this so much when he's not with me....
Fifteen minutes later, they sat wrapped in synthsilk robes with coffee mugs in front of them. They drank far too much of the increasingly pricey elixir, but both of them loved it so much it was worth the expense. "You can stay with me until you get your own place," he said, his face betraying the sheer joy of a child whose best friend just announced he doesn't have to move away after all.
"I won't interfere with business?" she asked archly, lowering her lids and pushing her lips out ever so slightly to enhance the pout.
He chuckled. "You know I never bring my work home, Cee. You'd be the queen of the castle."
"But not the empress?" Jealousy stabbed her in the eye at the involuntary mental image of that Perfectly Engineered automaton.
He laughed at that barb, knowing full well how fragile was the peace between the two women. "No, not the empress." He reached over and touched the back of her hand. She couldn't stop herself from meeting his gaze. "You're my Barbarian Queen, baby."
They shared a smile. "That woman is strange," she said, then tried to suppress her reaction when he leapt to the other woman's defense.
"She's a real Empress, Cee, of course she's weird." He shook his head. "You could even say she's the rightful ruler of Qinwa. Her family was kicked out by force."
"By that logic you could just as easily argue that she's not. After all, her family took the throne from the previous dynasty by force. How far do you go back? Stop where you want? Go as far as you want? At some point, Dash, you just have to take reality as it is and move forward." The heat was high in her face. He was looking at her like a little boy who just said a curse word in front of his mother for the first time. She was embarrassed by her outburst; all the heat dissipated from her cheeks. "Sorry."
He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. "I'm sorry, Cee." He put her hand down on the table between his. "And you're right. If you go back far enough, every people has been wronged, and every people has wronged another. We can't make everything right, we just have to make tomorrow right." He smiled. "I love your passion." His smile went from yellow grin to purple devil. "It makes you a passionate lover."
She chuckled and shook her head. The heat returned to her body, but it wasn't in her cheeks this time. She grabbed his hand and walked him back to her bed to show him how passionate a lover she could be.
They lay on top of the sheets still tousled from the last time, arms and legs intertwined, as they came back to earth. Did they doze? It seemed like it. She floated in and out of clarity, feeling every inch of contact with his skin, the sweat covering them both and beading on the synthetic fibers cradling them, his now-limp penis drooling on her thigh. Feeling him, seeing him, breathing him in, she understood why he was the Empress's Barbarian King, and why it made her so crazy despite their Agreement: he was a beautiful man and she wanted to own him.
Frustration with herself pushed her out of his inert grasp. His eyes fluttered open and head turned to observe her. He didn't voice his question as she stepped off the bed and walked into the bathroom. She hoped he was watching her walk away, tantalized by the little extra motion she put in just for him.
Shower medium-hot strong no-pulse.
Shower on. Medium-hot. Strong jets. No-pulse. Please wait.
Shower ready.
The water felt so good. She tried to concentrate on the sensations of it pounding against her skin, then gathering into rivulets and seeking a way to the floor. She delighted in the slight tickle on her still-sensitive nipples and labia. She tried to imagine her frustration draining away with the water and residue of their many bouts of sex. Such great sex. It was always like this when they first got back together. The hunger, the joy, the exultant sating of desires. Tomorrow is when the dread of certain parting would germinate in her mind.
A waft of cool air preceded him into the shower. His hands slid around her torso and settled on her breasts. She leaned back into him and found his dick with her ass. The instant reaction gratified her. She rotated and closed her arms around his neck. On tip-toes she pressed her lips to his. His hands glided up her chest to gently cradle her jaw as he pulled his head back. She dropped her weight back on her heels and smiled up at him. "Want more already?"
He growled. "I can never get enough of you."
She grinned, absurdly pleased by the simple statement. "Good." She slipped past him out of the shower. She toweled off and ran a brush through her hair quickly. Being between professional obligations, she only had herself and Dash to please. Dash, thankfully, was easy to please. She watched his silhouette through the shower curtain. He was taking his time, enjoying the gentle assault of hot water on his skin. "You're the most beautiful woman in the world, Cee. You don't have to do a damn thing to take my breath away," he often said. She shook her head.
She left him alone in the bathroom and went to her closet. She pulled a simple multi-colored sheath dress off a hangar and poured it over her head and shoulders. It hit her curves and draped in a flattering cascade. Done with her morning ablutions, she went back out to the kitchen for food. Sunlight poured in the windows, lighting up her mood.
Good morning, Ms. Hotbody. Are you ready for your morning updates?
She tried to keep her mental groan to herself, but the computer detected it anyway. As always, the computer took any response as a positive response.
You have one friend message, four communications marked important, three daily calendar reminders, and nine contract event requests. Shall we go through them now?
Summarize, she responded with asperity, wishing the computer picked up on such things. She just wanted to enjoy a morning breakfast with Dash before they made their way to the airport for the flight to Periphery City.
Darnell wants to make sure you are ok and still coming to the Mansion....Your financial advisor wants to go over your accounts....Your agent has an important question for you....You have appointments at 10 - in 15 minutes - at 2 and your flight leaves Obama-Clinton Airport at 4:30.One contract event request in Periphery City this weekend would leave you with three more to meet your yearly contract obligations.
She wondered what the contract event request in Periphery City was. If it wasn't something horrible, she would do it. That's why she had the scheduling app, to sort these things for her. Contract -
The computer anticipated her command. Nightclub appearance at The Nails Club, Saturday night, 11pm-2am. DJ accompaniment. Fan meet. Twelve hundred credit.
Saturday night. Thugz Mansion schedule? Dash would be working, of course, but she had planned to enjoy the weekend at the Mansion anyway. The computer ran down the list of events taking place that night in the various parts of the gangster paradise. Taking the gig at Nails Club wouldn't keep her from anything more fun, so she thought Accept, then turned her attention to the issue of a date. She didn't plan on spending the weekend alone, that was for damn sure.
"Hey, how's business?" the voice behind her ear startled her a second before Dash's lips settled on her neck.
She turned her head and they kissed quickly. He kept walking past her into the kitchen (she hadn't even made it past the end of the bar) and opened the refrigerator. "I just took a gig Saturday night. Nails Club. Pay's good and it takes me down to three events owed."
He nodded as he placed a package of eggs and tray of sausage slices on the counter. "Not bad. Nails Club hops. Who's the DJ?"
She shrugged. "Computer didn't say."
He paused. "Black Flash," he finally said. He reached back into the fridge and pulled out some roots and bread. "Great DJ, great guy. You two will put on a killer show. Should be a good crowd." He flashed a grin at her over his shoulder as he rummaged around for jam. "Wish I could be there."
She hated the reminder. "Your loss. I think I'll wear spider webs." She would, too, just to punish him for how much she knew he would be enjoying himself with Her. He laughed. She hiked herself up onto a barstool to watch him work.
"They'll take good care of you. Do you need a date? I can set you up." She looked quizzically at him. "I just messaged the manager. He's a good friend. Joe. He'll send a car."
"I can get my own dates, thank you very much," she snapped. Now to do it.... Date? Thursday-Sunday.
Five preferred selections available
Review. Imagine a profile from your preferred online dating site. Photograph. Basic information. Something looking very much like that flashed on her field of vision. By moving her eyes and blinking, she flipped through the five profiles. Forward. Reverse. She recognized them all. Two famous actors. An athlete. An heir. A brilliant software engineer. She had been out with three of them. The heir was arrogant but gorgeous, good at sex, and an impeccable gentleman. The actor was fun to travel with and they looked great together. He was extremely unimaginative in bed, however. The athlete could fuck forever but had no variety, and sports bored her to tears so listening to him talk was a chore. But he was very nice and he really liked her. The other actor and the software engineer she had met, but they had never gone out. The actor asked her on the average of once a month. The software engineer defied the stereotypes: he was handsome, self-assured, and could talk about more than just code and algorithms, whatever those were. Query A and C she commanded the computer. The actor she had dated and the athlete would go best with the contract event she had just engaged. Wait. Query D first.
Querying. Will notify with responses.
With a brusque nod she closed the app and looked up. Dash was happily buzzing around the kitchen turning the few ingredients she had available into a morning repast fit for a king -- or an Empress. The thought made her bitter, but she shook it off. It was their arrangement. She consoled herself by sitting and watching him work, happy that he rarely wore clothes in her apartment and didn't now.
Date request accepted
She opened the message: Option D in the list of date prospects had accepted her request. Delighted to hear from you. Of course I would love to be your date for the weekend. Where shall I pick you up Thursday night? They hammered out the details over a series of messages back and forth. He would pick her up in front of Dash's building in Periphery City Thursday at 5pm and share her suite at Thugz Mansion.
Thinking of her suite reminded her of Darnell's message. She hastily composed a response as Dash put a plate of food in front of her. Hey D, I'm good. Of course I'm coming. See you soon! Cheri
Morning, G! came a swift response. Relieved you're ok.
She was confused. Thanks.... Why would you be worried?
It's all over the news here. You guys had another storm last night. They closed the subway again, rumors of a cave-in, flooding. Everything smaller than an airliner was grounded.
She shivered, suddenly thrown back into her terror of last night when the building had seemed to lurch under her feet. Dash had distracted her from it and her mind's impressive defensive powers had pushed the experience deep. Speaking of Dash, he was looking at her with worry in his liquid green eyes. She smiled, but he wasn't buying it. She could tell he knew she was conversing with someone. He shook his head and went back to his breakfast and whatever his computer was displaying across his visual field. I didn't realize it was so bad. Yeah, the building shook last night. Dash is here. I think he talked me into moving out there.
That's great, G! Thank God for Dash. When are you coming?
Today. We'll leave for the airport soon.
You know there's a place for you at the Mansion, Cheri.
I'm going to stay with Dash.
Good, good. You two are so good together. But if you decide to get your own place, we can make you a great deal. The Mansion would really benefit from having Ms. Hotbody in residence - and you know I always want to be there for my little sister!
She laughed. The miracles of modern communication transmitted her chuckle to him. Dash glanced over at her as he shoveled the last bite of his breakfast into his mouth. He got up and carried his plate around to the sink. Placing it in the washbin, he padded back around the bar on his bare feet and pantomimed getting dressed. She nodded - and reached out to grab his penis as it came within reach. She got the same thrill she always did when he got hard in her hand.
Cheri?
Sorry, D. We're getting ready here. She could tell by his laugh that he suspected what was going on. She returned to the conversation. Thank you for the offer, Darnell, but I get so tired of hotel living.
The Mansion is a mixed-use development, G. Have you never had the tour?
She was confused. Had she ever seen the whole place? It was absolutely massive, dug into the top of a mountain, a tower with a mansion on top. No, I don't think so. She felt a twinge of shame. I guess I never paid enough attention to your project. For all he had done for her, he deserved her taking more interest in what had been a dream for him, a passion - and a salvation, too, really. Thugz Mansion had gotten him off the streets, out of the criminal life and into something productive. No longer a gangster, he was a real businessman now.
He laughed. No worries, G. When's the last time I visited your set? He paused to let that sink in, then went on. Let me give you the tour of the residential levels this weekend, Cheri. We have fifteen floors in the tower, including one penthouse level, and then the residential wing of the Mansion itself. I got a couple places I can show you. I can give you a real sweet deal on them. Like I said, having Ms. Hotbody in residence will be worth millions to us.
I will, Darnell. That sounds great. She was relieved. Both she and Dash liked their space. She could always tell when he had enough of sharing a living space and needed to be alone for a while. It was just who he was. A nice apartment in Thugz Mansion might really be perfect for her right now. She could be in Periphery City, but not really. It would make going back easier for her. Going back there was never easy. She shuddered.
I gotta run, baby sister. And you need to get on a plane, get the hell outta there before that place sinks into the sea. He laughed. This place is built on a mountain, baby. We not going anywhere. But you know what happens to them towers built on sand. He signed off.
They topple into the sea, she responded to the silence in her head.
They topple into the sea.