This is part one of a dystopian sci-fi short story where the people are kept ignorant of true history and a small group of chemists invent pills to help them remember the real past and lead a revolution.

Fucking America. I can't even go above ground and get to pickup point now without the LED drones buzzing around me like cesspool mosquitoes. They get smarter and smarter everyday. Ruley doesn't believe it, but the word among the undies now is that they are growing brains in the damn things, real living organic brains just like you or me or a dog would have, only how could there be anything organic that would work in a drone? It's just a flying robot is what it is, and even though the things act so fucking lifelike it's scary, Ruley promises they are still just computers. He says they still have just Artificial intelligence which is bad enough, because I swear to Intel it seems like sometimes their artificial intelligence is more real and smarter than my official intelligence. Or whateverthefuck. I can't even say what I mean right half the time.

Ruley says they have biofeedback sensors, and they can hit on a marks stress and anxiety levels, meaning when I am freaking the fuck out because I have fifty years of illegal history crammed up my ass they can see me sweating it. Ruley says that people who are one kind of stressed out, the normal kind, what with your job and your bills and your fucking kids and what not give off one kind of color on their biometer. Orange, I think. BUT! people like me who are stressed out because we are smuggling quantities of illegal smart drugs glow another color altogether. Flaming Red. That's why most of us who get made, get caught. That's why Ruley and Selfie have been around so long and are still vital, because they are always cool. Ruley sez that a long time ago Selfie met this Tibetan witch who taught her how to control her own adrenal glands, how to make them slow down and chill out so that they would not raise her body temperature and make her glow red on the biosensors. Ruley sez that she taught it to him, and that one day if I get smart enough he can teach it to me. If I don't get smart enough? Then fuck me, you know.

There is one of them about twenty yards from me now. Ugly fucking thing, looks just like a big flying mechanical spider. It's closing in on some poor fuck who is coming out of the Stop and Spend on Ninth and Twenty. He has a bag full of what looks like beer, nothing wrong with that, and he is not obviously intoxicated, so it must be something else. He is watching it while trying to pretend like he is NOT watching it, the way we have to. He is acting like us but he is not one of us, at least nobody I recognize. He aint trained. We all, even me to some degree, can remain cool when the LEDS are making us, but this poor bastard is definitely fucked. He's sweating it man, I can see all the way from over here, shit is just dripping off of his face. Dope, it has to be dope, and not the legal kind either, obviously. I hear there is a black market on the Remember pills now, some classless fucks trying to pass off some brain killing shit as them, and that gives us real problems. You see we, the undies, we don't do this for money. Nobody is getting fucking rich for helping people remember the past. It's about the Revolution. The drone is now right in front of him, forcing him to stop walking. I memorize what happens next. I always do when shit goes wrong. I use these encounters as examples of what not to do. Don't try to save him, don't be a hero and get yourself killed, Ruley sez in my head. Like he has to fucking tell me that. I stand still. I turn my back to the dude, but still to the side enough that I can watch it happen. It aint gonna take long. It never does. The Led is running the scan laser over him now. It didn't even say anything. They don't have to. They can do pretty much whatever the fuck they want. I feel myself clenching my ass, then tell myself to relax before Ruley can chime in. I am carrying cargo after all. Two hundred Remember pills each one with a fifty year dose.

Now you gotta keep in mind that Remember pills are not like normal dope, you can't take two pills and remember a hundred years instead of fifty, and if you took all two hundred at once you aint remembering ten thousand years...to be honest I don't know what the fuck would happen if you took all of them. To my knowledge nobody has ever od' on them before, and Ruley sez your brain would probably fucking explode if you took too many at once, but who knows? Ruley says a lot. You're probably wondering what the fuck I am talking about with all this, because let's face it, if you are reading this and you don't know it means either that the Revolution is over and we won, but didn't get our fucking names in the history books, which damn well better be true this time; or if that aint the case you have a piece of highly incriminating paper here slammed full of knowledge of illegal activities so you keep reading at your own risk. Your call on that... either way I should tell you what this shit is all about before we get any further, while we are waiting out the state sanctioned execution of the poor bastard behind us.

It's the year 2070, alright? At least that's what they tell us so we believe them. America is what they call a Corporate State and it's being run currently by a Corporate Committee, which representatives from two energy companies, two technology companies, and one insurance company sit on. The country has been divided up into seven zones, and each zone is divided further into smaller provinces that are controlled by various companies. We still fly the old Stars and Stripes, but now it flies beside corporate logos. Overseeing all of this is the Federal Reserve, the very powerful private banking entity that pays tribute, as all banks do, to the World Bank. I am assuming, that is... I am making an ass out of you and me, that this shit will not be found for like a hundred years from now, and hopefully all this shit will be different then. Like you aint gonna fucking believe me when I tell you that the government used communication towers to keep us all stupid. Well hell, I couldn't blame you, I didn't believe it either. Ruley told me that shit before I joined and I thought he was a fucking nutbag. Even told him so. He knew how he sounded, he said that nobody believes it at first, it's just too fucked up, too far beyond what we think of as "normal". But then you stop and think about it, really examine it, and it starts to make more and more sense. I realized that I felt stupid my whole life really... every morning I woke up and felt like there was a fog inside my head. I would feel like no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't quite make the neural connections necessary to do anything beyond getting through my fucking nine to five. Then coming back home, at which point I would be too fucking tired to do anything but sit braindead in front of the entertainment screen and absorb whatever shows were on. Then I would wake up the next day and do it all over again.

At first I blamed it on the booze. I drank every day, but there was nothing weird about that. Everybody I knew was in the bottle most of the time. It was basically our fucking national past time. We were all, by we I mean the 99 fucking percent: we were all either half in the bag or carting a hangover around. Hard to feel good for yourself in that condition. The info news would tell us about wars all over the world, how the USA was kicking the terrorists ass, we had been at war with the terrorists for as long as anyone could remember, and even though it didn't seem like the terrorists ever fought back we apparently were not getting anywhere in the war with them. But nobody ever thought about that because all the news ever showed was dead terrorists bodies and smiling soldiers. We all got high on patriotism.

Then there was the heat. It's just so fucking hot outside all the time that if you had to even spend five minutes out there away from air conditioning you would get all lightheaded. The lucky folks who could afford to have the thermacooled clothing didn't even try to stay out too long, and the homeless? Let's just say that nobody last long in 125 degree heat. You either get underground or you die. So the towers. Ruley sez that if you pay attention long enough after you aint stupid no more you will see a pattern in the infonews. Like it just always repeats the same thing. He sez that if you try hard enough and keep track of it, you can see the same battles with the terrorists covered every week, with the same smiling soldiers, and the same dead bodies. He sez that none of it is real, like it is all filmed on a Hollywood set or CGI or something. Nobody ever questions it because that is how it has always been. People expect it to be like that. Change is what fucks people up after all. Ruley sez everybody craves patterns, routines, and those smiling soldiers reassure people that everything is alright just like little kids get reassured that Santa Clause is going to leave them something under the Christmas tree. It's like a big game of pretend that adults play, and work together to convince ourselves that it is real.

Speaking of real, the drone is now hovering two feet away from the poor saps face. The drones arms have started spinning the way they do when they want to scare the shit out of you, there is no valid reason for them to spin that way, that is one of the first things they teach undies about how to confront drones, there are things they do just to psyche you out just like human cops do, and this arm spinning thing is one of them, it is designed simply to make you lose any cool that you may have left. Those spinning eight arms can hypnotize you if let them though, that is what I have always thought, and even though Ruley sez that is bullshit privately some have agreed with me. You watch those arms long enough you're likely to answer any questions the monster ask you. That's what is happening with this guy alright, he don't even look scared no more, he has even stopped shaking, he is just standing there watching those arms spin. His eyes have gotten all big and weird, like he is tweaking or spun out real hard on mushrooms or something and standing still as a fucking statue. "Look at him," I sez to Ruley in my head, "Look at him. Fucker is hypnotized! I told you that's what that shit is for!" Shut the fuck up! Ruley kinda snarls back. He's losing his shit. Don't you go and do the same. Remember what you got ! Remember your training! Your cargo is supposed to wake up an entire block, if.. "Would YOU please be the one to shut the fuck up?" I act tough, "I know how this goes..." Ruley don't say no more and just shrinks back into the aether. Or astral. Selfy acts like it's all important what you call it, but since I never been there and at this rate aint likely to never be there, why should I give a fuck?

The drones arms slow to kind of a lazy spin. The dude watches this like it is the most amazing shit he has ever seen, then drone sez "Empty your pockets!" in that commanding robot voice they have, and the dude instantly complies. Keys, lottery card, money card.....there it is. A tiny black pill, made to resemble a Remember pill, but it's not. Even from this distance, I can see two tiny flaws in its coating that means it is definitely not the real thing. The drone would know that too, but not the dude. He's convinced that the little pills he is about to lose his life over was going to help him remember some of this country and this worlds past history, help him remember it the way it really happened so he could have some kind of perspective on the past to maybe guide his future. At least that was the plan. Now he will never know. Ruley is back. Do you see?" He sounds hyperactive. "Can you tell? "Yeah," I respond mentally. "I can tell, don't look at all like the real thing." But he thinks it is! He wants to Remember! "Don't mean shit if he is dead."

The drone ask it's question first. "Where did you obtain the illegal drug?" The dude cannot help but to answer, "An Asian guy, Chinese I think, he's selling them on the corner of 5th and Euclid.." That's it. A bright flash of blue white heat shoots out from the drones innards, and the dude is eviscerated. Split cleanly in half right down the middle. Half falls to the right, his other half to the left, and steaming piles of brains and guts spill out onto the sidewalk. I hold my breath. This time I am watching because the LED expects everyone to stop what they are doing and watch a public execution. It is supposed to make an imprint. The drone hovers over the mess and plants a three dimensional hologram in the air. "Illegal history pill offender" it reads in big green holo letters from all sides. The remains of the body will stay there until it rots, and until the pigeons and crows have picked the guts and bones clean. The whole time that hologram will be there to remind people. That's just the way it is. The drone speeds away, undoubtedly off to catch the dealer, and I relax some. Unclench my ass. I am getting too old for this shit. Sometimes I think the Revolution can happen without me and I can go back to being stupid. Ruley however is back and full of ideas. It's gone to get that dealer, he sez. "Uh huh." I say. "One time I don't mind the fucking mechanical monsters. Get that fake shit off the streets. What if it does help them Remember some history, but it is still the wrong history?" Ruley is not thinking about that, he thinks he is onto something: We've been needing to know for a long time where this fake shit is coming from, he sez. "No way. Head over there and who knows? They may have some astrals there too you know? What happens if you run into a big mean out of body fucker who can control his own astral shit better than you can control yours?" You know who I am? Sometimes Ruley is an arrogant ass. Selfie herself taught me, and the Original Witch taught her, and there is no one better. "Alright... but how far can you go? I mean you are not that far away from your body right now, but what happens when you get ten blocks away? How far will that cord stretch?" It will stretch forever. Selfie has been more than a mile out of hers, and the Witch.. the Witch let her body die a long time ago, but she is still alive. 'You don't know that for sure." This metaphysical shit creeps me out, really gives me the heebie jeevies. I don't even like Ruley talking to me when he is in the Astral, and his body is only about twenty yards away in a safe house. To think of the Witch being some kind of immortal being but never being in a physical body again....I'd rather leave all that alone. Alright. Ruley sez, But think of it this way, these fake pills are at this point as big of an obstacle to the Revolution as the damn government itself, and this is the first time we have actually been on the scene when a mark gave up a dealer. I'm going. I gotta get there before the drone kills everything. "Alright." No sense in arguing anymore, but I try one last time. "You were supposed to stay with me until drop off point." You're a big boy. You've done this before. You will be fine. I'll see you back home. Physically see you ok? "Yeah" what the fuck is there left to say? "Sure." Ruley bugs out back into Astral, and I am left staring at this schmucks remains with the holo-lable flashing above his body. Still got to somehow make it to drop off point. Still gotta get these history pills outta my ass and into the buyers hands. Still gotta be viable.

The pills are the thing. They are the whole fucking backbone of the Revolution, without them people don't even have a reason to fight. You see these pills are the only thing that connects us as a species to our true history, to how things really happen. According to the dosage of the pill, it can help you remember anything from fifty years ago to yesterday, and the beauty of it is that once you remember you don't forget. The towers that they put up to make us all stupid and forgetful wont work no more on that little part of history see? Let's say you take a pill that helps you remember the years 1970-1999. You will relive the main events of those years in vivid fucking color, like you are watching a 3d holo news feed, only what you will be seeing is the real shit, what really did happen, the shit they dont want you to know about. I have done it. Seen the Vietnam war and the hippies protesting, seen disco and the drugs that aint around no more, seen Reagan and the Gulf War and that shitty music called grunge. I saw it all, and I saw how different it all was from what they tell us now. If you log into the National Mind now and quest for the years 1970-1999, you will learn that in those years America was in deep conflict with the Islamic Terrorists European State. You will be reminded how Europe had allowed the Communist to take over in their ignorance in the years after World War 2, and you will learn how the Communist were too lazy and ineffectual to prevent the armies of Islamic extremism from sweeping over Europe. You will learn how the brave American forces had to step in to fight them, and how in the end, in the year 1998, just when American victory was certain, the evil Islamic bastards nuked all of Europe. Total destruction. Nothing left. It's all bullshit of course. The communist never did take over Europe, and there was no Islamic terrorism in Europe until the late 90s, and it never reached the levels they teach you. Most importantly, Europe was never destroyed. It is theoretically still there today. Why don't we know about it and trade with it? Who knows? That is one of many things the Revolution hopes to find out.

I reach the drop off point. Dude is there alright, dressed in suit and tie, looking like a Wall Street Man. Maybe he is, I hope he is. The more of them we get to remember the better. At least according to Ruley. Ruley sez everyone has a right to the past no matter who they are, and he is probably right. I used to wonder though. From what i know of Real History the Wall Street types always were the winners, always had the most money, they even manipulated and sometimes started wars to make sure they could have the money. I was not sure we needed or wanted guys like that on outside, but Ruley is a real humanitarian. He says if it's a human, it deserves to know, and the Witch agrees. Mr. Wall Street has made me, but he still don't say nothing. I walk by him and light a vape, which was the first part of the signal. Then I turn and say, "Think it'll ever rain when we need it to rain?" That was the second part. Man nodded. "Cold rain for once would be nice." he says a little robotically, scared like. That completes it, letting us know each other, but damn the way he said that will cause any drone within a ten block radius that may be listening to flash in that, that fear in the voice when talking about rain! Somebody needs to school his ass! I glare at him, letting him know that his demeanor is not cool at all, then walk on past him into the alley. There's the trashcan Wall Streets trade is supposed to be in. I walk up to it, look around and don't spot any security cameras. I relax my asshole and kind of push out, forcefully expelling the pill stash enough to where I can reach in there to get them. I am just about to put my hands down my pants when I feel something aint right. Some presence. The hair on my arms rises, gooseflesh. There is an Astral here and it ain't Ruley! What the hell? "Ok," I say out loud. "Fess up. I feel you." Fool! The Astral snarls in my mind, Keep your fuckin voice down unless you want to die. I can hear your thoughts ok? Talk to me there. "Alright." I think. "Alright. So great you're an Astral. And you're what? Following me? Just out for a fucking stroll? Whatever, unless it's not ok with you, and if it isn't I truly don't give a fuck, I'm gonna do what I came to do." I am not here to stop you, I am here to offer you something better. I ain't a mark. I drop the stash in the trash, just like I am supposed to do. I am not about to get rattled by some random astral out to con me, so what that he can bug out? That just means he's a really good con man. "I got nothing to say to you." I began to walk away. But you aren't the least bit interested. Don't lie I know that you are. "Yeah. I always have been interested in how you fuckers bug out of your bodies. Is that what you want to hear? Fine. I always have been. Who isn't?" Your interest goes beyond that. "Tell yourself what you want. You Astrals always get so fucking superior the minute you leave your bodies. Like the rest of us are in your own fucking ant farm or something. I ain't no ant, okay? You learned the metaphysical mumbo-jumbo, hey good for you! You still live under the same bullshit I do though. It don't change that does it?" I stop cold. I fucked up. Selfie has always warned us that there will come the day when the LEDS use Astrals, that day is coming soon she says. Is it here? Is this one of them? Is there a drone coming my way right now? You and I share the same interest in changing this condition. "I don't know what you're talking about," I say quickly. "I gotta bottle of vodka at home and "Mr. Nutballs is on the screen tonight, and that's all that I care about. That's IT, okay?" Too late, Astral says, I saw what you just dropped in the trashcan. I get ready to run. I don't even know if it is possible to run from an Astral but I am gonna try. Maybe I will be the first person in history to get away from one of these fuckers on my feet. I can't stay above ground for long, of course. There is a sewer entrance less than half a block from here that we are pretty sure the LEDS don't know about, if I can make it there maybe I can shake the Astral ... somehow. No time left. I jump into motion, my feet hitting the pavement before I am barely aware of what is happening I freeze. I mean this literally. All forward motion just stops, and my blood turns to ice water. Tome moves around, but I am outside of it, completely and totally paralyzed. This is not just any Astral, this is a fucking Witch! I dare not say or even think Ruleys, I can't bring anyone down with me.

Part 2 coming soon....