Conversation

Personal Database #25

Subject: Wyn Rivera, MOLT 0, age 0-19.

<Medical Record: see HEALTH DATABASE #475>

<Behavioral Record: see SOCIOLOGICAL DATABASE #373>

Purpose Of Visual Study: Follow-up on Abnormal Behavior

Time to MOLT 1: 2 wks

Written Transcript of Camera Feed From Dwelling/Vehicle Of Subject

Intellectual Property of the Governance of MOLT, Central Division

March 26, 2254

Wyn Rivera rushed home in a fit of rage after her decidedly unsuccessful Pre-MOLT guidance session. Her tiny, gray Governance-issue electric car shot through the winding, layered streets of Freziere, gradually making its way through the maze of bridges upon bridges as it climbed up alongside the glassy sides of colossal skyscrapers toward the rooftop neighborhood of Fallen Bird. Thousands of identical cars filled the city, but there were enough roads stacked neatly on top of each other to allow all of them to travel at a decent pace.

Wyn had always thought the name of the settlement was rather depressing. She was reminded of this as she drove up alongside the metal plaque mounted on its geometric gate, sporting an engraved image of a bird with its wings flailing, holding up a stylized representation of the words "Fallen Bird." The gate let out a long beep and popped open as its motion sensors locked on the vehicle, recognizing it. Wyn sighed to herself, adjusting her hands on the wheel as she gingerly stepped on the gas, moving forward as carefully as possible onto a thin bridge that spanned the gap between two skyscrapers. The sloping road underneath her, made of compacted garbage from the city below, trembled under the weight of her car. Her breath hitched in her throat and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, pausing at the bottom of the slope before gaining the confidence to proceed upward at a faster pace.

"You'd think the most effective government in the history of the human race would build better bridges," Wyn hissed to herself as she swerved into one of the few available parking spaces on the rooftop that marked the end of the road. Technically, it wasn't really a rooftop, since an entire apartment building, the primary residential area of Fallen Bird, was built on top of it. However, it did mark the end of the world below and the beginning of that above.

Modern cities were built twice as high as their pre-Fall counterparts, spiraling endlessly into the clouds. This was a result of the Governance's efforts to prevent the problems of the 21st century world from recurring in this period of regrowth. Most of the world's remaining human population, some hundred million people, was packed into three megacities, located in the most remote areas of what used to be North America, Europe, and Asia. The high walls around these cities served both to protect them from the wild world outside and to prevent the reemergence of the once-pivotal issue of suburban sprawl.

"Wyn!"

The girl perked up at the sound of her name. The call was distant, but the voice was laced with a sense of urgency. Wyn stepped out of her car, slamming the door shut as she approached the apartment building in search of the person who had yelled her name.

Soon, a figure dressed in a long, black coat and faded jeans came into view, walking around the far side of the tall, slender building.

"Mom?" Wyn frowned as the short, blonde woman approached, a horrified expression on her face. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"Wyn, why is the Governance in our apartment?" she hissed in reply. "The neighbors called saying there were black vans outside the complex, and I got here as fast as I could. Please don't tell me you've been getting yourself into trouble so close to your MOLT..."

"No..." Wyn whispered, shoving her hands in the pockets of her loose black slacks as she looked around in disbelief. "The Governance doesn't do that. They're not like that."

"Well, they have, and they are," her mother pursed her lips.

Almost as if summoned by her words, two police officers dressed in the telltale hard, black hats of the Governance's central force ran out the apartment building's back door, rushing down the steps toward the two women.

"Miss Rivera, Mrs. Rivera," one of them said in an ironically cordial tone. "Please return to your residence and remain in closed quarters until instructed otherwise. The Governance apologizes for the inconvenience."

"I'm sorry, but since when do you have the right to barge onto private property without a search warrant and order people around without an explanation?" Wyn narrowed her eyes.

"You are as argumentative as the Chancellor warned us you would be," the officer shook his head. "Please return to your residence. Now. This concerns a possible threat to the security of the Governance."

"Look, I have no idea who this Chancellor is or how she knows so much about me. I don't know about you, but I find the fact that we have a ruler we don't know about rather concerning."

"Will you comply, or must force be employed?" the officer spat.

"Stand down, now, there's no need to turn this into a bigger issue than it really is."

The police officers whipped around at the sound of a clear, female voice, closely followed by a furious Wyn and her bewildered mother.

A woman in a black, knee-length dress and tall, leather boots leaned casually against the crimson hood of a car. One of her gloved hands rested on her hip, while the other smoothed back her raven hair.

Either she was unnaturally beautiful or she recently had a very expensive MOLT. Judging from the police officers' deferential attitude to her and the fact that her car- not the standard Governance model- had driven down the bridge so silently Wyn hadn't even noticed it, it was probably the latter.

"Who invited the comic book villainess?" Wyn sneered.

"How wonderful it is to meet you in person...Wyn Rivera," the woman chuckled, stepping slowly forward. She didn't look any older than twenty five, but considering the rejuvenating effects of a MOLT, she could be anywhere between twenty and a hundred years old. "Your sass certainly lives up to my expectations. I'll have to say, I thought mine was the only sense of humor that survived the Great Fall," she laughed.

Wyn did not appear amused in the slightest.

"Alright, alright. I don't suppose we got off to the greatest start. Let's start over, shall we? I am Vazilia Anne Azro, Chancellor of the Governance. See? It's not as devious as you think it is. I'm a real person, standing right here for you to see. I started out a Birth MOLT and will die a MOLT 32, just like you and everyone else. I'm not extremely rich, I don't make corrupt deals with the extremely rich, nor do I do any of those kinds of things that pre-Fall leaders were notorious for doing so often. I think it's a little sad, actually, that the word 'leader' has become so synonymous with 'corrupt politician' that you were suspicious of me before you even knew my name."

"You're rambling, avoiding the point," Wyn said flatly, crossing her arms over her chest. "What I want to know is what the Governance is doing in my apartment."

"I'm sure this was all just a big misunderstanding," Vazilia smiled. "I'm only trying to do my duty and assure the safety of the citizens of Freziere. Some of the things you said in your Guidance Session were cause for concern, and we just had to make sure that there wasn't anything...bigger behind them. One can never be too careful during times like these."

"...right," Wyn nodded slowly.

"I'm glad you understand," Vazilia said. "Now, according my latest report, your home contains nothing questionable. I suspected you wrongly, and for that I am sorry. Although, if I were you, I'd close that loud mouth. It could get you in trouble."

With that, the Chancellor turned around, tugging open the door to her car. Wyn stared in shock and confusion as she entered it, followed closely by the policemen.

"Wyn!" her mother put her hands on her hips as soon as the car entered the dip of the bridge. "Don't you know to be polite during your Guidance Sessions? The Governance gives them to us for free! The least you can do is be a little grateful."

"The silent leader of the entire world just showed herself and you're worrying about my manners!?" Wyn shook her head in disbelief, trudging toward the stone steps that led up to the apartment's back entrance.

"It doesn't matter who it is: a president, a king, a Chancellor, a Governance, as long as they do a good job of what they do. You don't have one thing to complain about, Wyn. They do everything for us. I don't care how they do it or who does it- they do it."

Wyn sighed at this, pausing with her hand on the long handle of the door. She hadn't realized how whiny she'd sounded. "There's nothing wrong with the way the Governance runs things," she clarified. "If anything, they're doing a great job. They brought us back from literally nothing. What concerns me is the fact that we're being ruled by someone whose face we've never seen, whose name we'll never know, whose policies are foreign to us. Isn't the whole point of a democracy accountability? How can you be held accountable if according to the world, you don't even exist."

"Wyn," her mother smiled wistfully, taking a single step toward her daughter. "They'll tell you this before your second MOLT...but the Governance isn't technically a democracy, at least not in the way the term was originally defined. Pre-Fall civilization experimented with democracy. It worked for a long time, but like all things do, it eventually fell to human greed. It is not wise to make assumptions about things you will be informed of in later MOLTs. You may end up forming an incorrect picture of the world entirely."

<END OF STORED TRANSCRIPTION>