Fictionarium Chapter 5. The Screwtape emails

"These miraculous imaginative creatures would imagine our asses right out of existence if they were ever allowed the time to think about it for even a second." 

 

 

source @therealpaul  watercolor and ink

On Wednesday morning, Arlo decided to venture up to the Bean House, a little coffee shop off the town square, as the barista who cheerfully ran the place had managed to work her way into his heart with her well-poured cups and enchanting smile, and he hadn't had the thrill of visiting with her since the previous Sunday.
With the traffic lights still out all over town, everyone was courteous and careful, and the amount of traffic accidents had dropped dramatically as a result. Most of the local drivers had already perfected the four-way yield technique at the bigger intersections, waving and smiling to one another, and everyone was happily getting to work a little earlier than before. Arlo waved and smiled his way to the Bean House in record time.
The coffee shop was busier than normal, and Arlo, after getting a coffee, a hello or two, and the smile he'd been waiting to see from the lovely barista, took his cup to a seat in the back seating area, settled into a corner and spoke softly to his computer. "Mail".  
With his voice confirmed, he noticed in mid-sip that he had two emails from the Director of Area 12BX, (Hill Valley and the neighboring town of Lakeland)- it was none other than Don Felger himself.
Don Felger never sent emails. This was definitely unusual, and Arlo opened the first one with great curiosity as to why the mighty Don Felger would contact him at all.

  
From: Director Don Felger, Board of Scientists, 12BX
Dear Arlo,

 I hope that you are busy and that all the best is yours these days. I would like to be able to say that all is well here at the Board, but there is some concern growing recently. Yesterday evening we received numerous urgent requests from police and other City personnel for transports out of Hill Valley, yet none offered their reasons. Naturally the Board is alarmed at such a sudden mysterious development, and there is a sense that something has frightened these Bishops from their stations.  I presume you have left nothing out of it, but having carefully reviewed your recent reports, I see no particular trends pointing to the cause of their apparent distress, and something of this nature should have caught the eye of a trained Observer, one would think. You are surely aware of the mighty creative force that you are partly responsible for controlling, and how this force, through it's various outlets must always appear to be endowed by the blessings of the City, and I'm sure you understand that these potent subjects of our project should worship the UBS as the true source of their own creations.  As an OLO you can probably imagine the damage that could occur if these subjects ever figured out that they themselves were the creators of the glorious parks and gardens spilling from the quaint terraces of Hill Valley, instead of properly or automatically crediting the City itself for such beauty. These miraculous imaginative creatures would imagine our asses right out of existence if they were ever allowed the time to think about it for even a second.  

You may have observed as well that we have been stepping up the tension between the police force and the regular subjects. These tensions are to become violent, if we can help it, as the division between the police and the subjects naturally prevents any uncontrollable spread of unity.  We had an undercover Bishop on the police force release some files to the press about police corruption last week. This should cause a little stir in the public's mind for a few days. The police don't know about this operation of course, but these are our own guys requesting transport out of HV, and it's very curious from the Board's point of view that all twelve of our Bishops are trying to bail out at once.  I hope you're not depending on the TV as the city's pulse and using it as your sole source of data... we put you in the underbelly of the town so that you could monitor the subculture and it's rumors. We need verification that our Conditioners at that level are effectively muddying the water, but it is also your function as a Priest to hear the voice of the culture's developing heroes and report these to the Board when you hear them, not wait until the end of the week when you submit your regular data. 

 You must also know that while it's certainly not your job to march around asking too many questions, we do expect some amount of proof that we have successfully planted healthy growing stories in the alternative media, and you should hear these in the murky night spots and bars as part of your duties. It is frankly a bit discouraging that things seem to be developing outside of your knowledge as a trained Observer, but maybe the places that you frequent aren't dirty enough to grow our rumors with any vitality. It would be nice to know that the little seeds we carefully plant are sprouted and vibrantly creeping upwards through society to reach maturity at a good clip. The sterile pubs and coffee shops that you have been frequenting are unlikely to sustain any real life, much less nurture any talk of popularly suppressed conspiracy theories about Fictionariums or any other such devilish SB schemes. You might consider doing your drinking a little closer to home to get the real low down.

 We look forward to reviewing your next report. Sincerely- Don Felger

Arlo quickly rubbed his face with both hands, laughing into his palms.  
Felger knew how to tap the imagination and creative power of a civilization. He programmed the thing like it was his personal 3D replicating printer, telling it what to create and then making the product his own. He not only recognized the awesome creative potential of human beings as a group, he had clearly come to depend on the precipitation of their powerful daydreams as a valuable resource. 

 
The way that Felger had set up the experiment in Hill Valley was truly diabolical. The society willfully gave their power to him in their worship, while at the same time believing that they depended on him for their very sustenance. Fearing abandonment from this entity called the Science Board, they had purposefully chained themselves to it's doctrines, and even called this perplexing captivity "freedom".  
Fear was Felger's primary tool- it always came down to fear. Don Felger was actually the guy who concocted much of Fictionarium's powerful TV propaganda concerning the "inevitable threat of crime" upon Hill Valley from the neighboring city of Lakeland. Following this regular programming, it was believed that the highway to Lakeland should be considered 'travel at your own risk'. It was all fabricated of course- creating an external threat is the simplest of fear-based government building techniques. Soon that lonely stretch of highway was littered with actual threats: the well-funded Hill Valley Police patrols.

art by @therealpaul oil on canvas

The back room at the Bean House had filled up with people while he was reading and Arlo, professionally overhearing the talk at an adjoining table, picked up a conversation about the DMV being closed both Tuesday and Wednesday for no apparent reason, and the girl was telling her friends that it was to be her excuse if she got pulled over for having expired plates.  
Since she was still talking loudly enough to attract the attention of the room, Arlo was able to lean over casually to get a look at the photo that she was showing to her friends, and she held the device closer so that he could see it better. It was a photo of a flagpole, but instead of a proud flag, someone had hoisted an auto license plate to the top of it by the cable.  
"It's the flagpole at the Maple St. DMV." she smacked, adoring her photo. "Weird huh? They were closed yesterday and this morning when I went by, and I guess I won't be able to get tags on my car and it's damn sure their fault if I get a ticket!"
Arlo nodded absently. It was curious indeed, but his mind was too busy at that moment to engage in talk of weird license plates hanging from flagpoles, as he was still processing the first email from Don Felger, and had now begun bracing himself to open the second one.  
With a deep breath, he opened it and began reading.

"Dear Arlo, 

Please keep in mind that if there is anything going on with you that is preventing you from doing your work to the fullest capacity, we of course have councilors here at SB for any kind of personal issues that might arise during assignments. Considering the recent transport requests from our Bishops, I would prefer that you contact me, rather than running to the SB councilors, if you happen to know anything about the cause of these alarming requests. Further, if you have reason in your mind that you too would like transport out of HV, it would be prudent if you were to share that with us immediately.  While we are disappointed that none of our Bishops were willing to offer any explanation of what is going on there in the Box, we do not depend on them to send information to us as part of their duties. Verily, that is your job, Arlo.  It is critical that our Bishop's movement on the chessboard be done openly, so that they are seen as the pillars of society- none of their activities should appear secretive or odd to the public's eye, unless we have specifically commanded them to appear that way. We have issued no such command, and the puzzling nature of their behavior has become a concern for the SB. While some of the members of the Board may still enjoy a good puzzle, I do not.  

Arlo, you are a scientist, you must appreciate the importance of keeping a clean laboratory. At a glance, this situation simply looks like an untidy workplace, and such a mess will invariably house unwanted germs- germs which, by their ability to live freely, will of course contaminate the experiment.  Whatever has infected these Bishops will be discovered, and if you are in contact with any of them, please inform them that no transports are forthcoming. This goes for you too Arlo- we at least need more information about the nature of the situation, certainly before any talk of such transports could ever be seriously discussed. Surely you can understand the logic in allowing the Board the chance to evaluate things and calculate sound solutions, rather than allow panicked personnel to just blindly evacuate in a frenzy. 

Again, know that if there are any personal problems that you may be encountering you can contact me confidentially here, and I'm sure that we can connect, talk it over and find a way to resolve it, whatever it may be. I realize that enduring the tedium of sluggish life in the Box takes a special kind of scientist, I like to believe that you are one of those, capable and efficient, and your costly and extensive training in this field would almost dictate such.  We at the Board think of you as one of our best, and will greatly appreciate your timely input towards this matter from your perspective." -Don

@therealpaul oil on canvas

His coffee cup was now cold, and Arlo slumped into his chair, staring at the array of paintings on the wall around his table. He growled softly for a moment, and then decided to read the brutal emails again later at home instead of being bothered by them here in the Bean House. On his phone, someone had posted a video on Steemit titled "MUST SEE: Lady's Epic Rant at DMV". Activating his earpiece, he lazily clicked on the link.

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FICTIONARIUM

 Introduction

 CH 1.  
CH2.  
CH2.ptII   
CH3. 

CH4. 

all artwork on the walls of the Bean House in this chapter by @therealpaul