Blockchained is a short story set in a dystopian one-world-government future where blockchain technology has been used to enslave the people of the world.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
"Good morning, my Lady," I stutter embarrassingly, keeping my eyes focused on the monitors ahead. It still feels so disorienting to hear those words leave my mouth—like I'm living in the second century or something. I know that's not the case though. Just as I know what will happen if I disrespect her again by forgetting to address her properly.
For what feels like far too long, I wait for a response. None arrives. Only the menacing sound of her heels growing closer— and quicker? It now sounds as though she is running towards me, and for no reason that I can provide, I know that she is wielding a blood-soaked axe that is meant for my skull. My spine instinctively jolts forward to avoid the attack, as I turn my head towards her.
This cannot continue. A subtle sigh escapes my lips as I realise that Lady Gotha is barely a few steps from the elevator. The relief is replaced with mortification as I notice her cold inquisitive stare. She noticed my reaction, and will now want an explanation. Somehow I know that, "I thought you were going to kill me," is not going to fly, so I begin to rack my brain, desperate for a worthy excuse.
I'm not given the chance.
"Pull up the surveillance footage of the south side of the tower," she orders me with a somewhat impatient tone.
Like the bitch I have become, I obey.
"And show me every citizen who was within 100 meters of the tower in the last six hours," she adds.
This was an unusual request, and like none that I had ever received from a controller before this moment. Thankful that I no longer have to explain my almost jumping out of my chair upon her entering the room, I do as she requests as quickly and quietly as possible.
My curiosity is met with an explanation for this visit the second the live feed of the tower opens. Laura and Liam—two of the cleaners who work in the tower—can be seen atop of ladders, frantically scrubbing graffiti from the side of the tower.
Upon realising what the vandals had written, my heart begins to race as though I were the culprit. This explains the hostility in Lady Gotha's tone. Fucking idiots. Did they not think about me— or the others working in the tower? When the controllers are angered, it's us who must suffer through it, not the cowards who did this.
I scan backwards through the footage quickly to arrive at the time the crime was committed. My anger begins to subside as I realise just how stupid these vandals must be. On the monitor in front of me, two figures can be seen preparing a set of ladders to begin defacing the United Nation Tower. It has been years since I have seen a jumper with a hood on it, yet the two before me appear to have got their hands on some.
I begin to pity them. Do they not know that the hoods are irrelevant when I am able to use the blockchain to determine exactly who they are? The poor bastards will regret this when the controllers get their hands on them.
"Show me who they are," Lady Gotha tells me, her voice now uncomfortably close to my ear.
I tag the camera, requesting a list of the nearest citizens at the time of the incident.
That's impossible.
My brow begins to sweat as I desperately search through every nearby TTID chip to ascertain who the vandals could be. Nothing. Only tower-workers can be found anywhere nearby, and each of them were exactly where they should have been.
"My Lady..."
My lips stop moving as I realise that I have no idea what to say. These people are without implants. How is that possible?
I turn my head hesitantly to examine Lady Gotha's reaction. She turns away before I am able to discern her facial expression.
"Find out who they are," she threatens, as she begins to make her way back towards the elevator.
Still trying to make sense of what I have just seen, I neglect to offer her a response. Who are they? How did they get into the sector without an implant? Did they find a way to remove theirs?
My mind begins to present me with one question after another-- and then the only one that matters arrrives.
Can they remove mine?
