“And now,” says Martyn, “you’re about to hear from the leader of the Progress Party, Tony Party-Leader. As I’m sure you know, he’s our candidate for the presidency.”
“And his popularity ratings are catastrophic,” says the smart-ass.
“That doesn’t matter,” says Martyn, “because the Progress Party will soon commit to the biggest coalition too. Even with all the superficial confusion, the world of politics is still very predictable at heart.”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” says the small, stocky man now standing behind the speaker’s podium, “I would like to tell you today that the Progress Party…” He makes a dramatic pause. Such a show-off, thinks Martyn, rolling his eyes. “… is no longer prepared to proceed with the biggest coalition,” concludes Tony Party-Leader. A murmur of disbelief ripples through the hall. “We are of the opinion, if you’ll allow the metaphor, that too many Cooks spoil the broth.”
Laughter from the Progress Party benches. Martyn grins too, once he sees his colleagues laughing.
“I would also like to announce that I am withdrawing myself from the running.”
Commotion in the assembly room. The surprise has been a success.
“I would like to take this opportunity to introduce the Progress Party’s new candidate,” says Tony, looking out into the room and nodding to a handsome man of indeterminable age. “John, could I ask you to come forward and join me?”
The dark-haired, athletically built man stands up and does as requested.
Martyn hears the girl he bookmarked for himself whispering: “Well, he’s a looker!”
“This is our candidate,” says Tony. “We call him John, John of Us!”
There is a deathly silence in the room.
John of Us is an android.
* * * QualityLand * * *
Your Personal Travel Guide
EARWORMS
As you stroll through the streets of QualityLand, you will probably notice people chattering away to themselves, yet seemingly without headsets on. Contrary to how it may appear, these people are not crazy. Or at least, not all of them are. Most of them are talking to their personal digital assistants, via the so-called earworm. The earworm is a small, worm-like mini robot, about the size of a maggot. You simply place it in your outer ear, and it crawls down into your ear canal, where it embeds itself into a blood vessel near the eardrum, thus ensuring its energy supply. Unaffected by background noise, the earworm transmits all acoustic signals from and to the internet. If you tug four times on your earlobe, the earworm undocks itself and crawls back into the outer ear. An earworm you just can’t get out of your head is a matter for the doctor to attend to. Or an IT technician. Most people, however, see no reason to undock, and live with the earworm night and day.
ADO & EVA
Peter Jobless once had a girlfriend named Mildred Secretary. He met her in real life, in the analogue world. That, of course, was both bizarre and a little embarrassing, hence why they rarely spoke about it in public. They argued a great deal, but on the plus side, life with Mildred was never boring. Five hundred and twelve days ago, just for fun, they both logged in to QualityPartner and compared their profiles. The system told them they weren’t a good match, and even suggested a better partner for each of them. Peter and Mildred gave it a lot of thought and eventually conceded that they really weren’t a good match. As it turned out, logging in to QualityPartner just for fun hadn’t turned out to be that much fun after all. Both secretly made plans to meet with a better partner. No, not with a better partner, of course, but with the best partner.
Peter’s best partner is Sandra Admin. They never argue. Sandra is as attractive as a man of Peter’s level could hope for: in other words, averagely so. Today it is exactly 500 days since they changed each other’s status to “in a relationship.” It was a very romantic moment, and neither of them has forgotten the anniversary. Then again, it wasn’t possible to forget: their personal digital assistants reminded them. Sandra calls her assistant Sweetie. As a symbol of their unity, Peter and Sandra have linked their digital assistants to each other’s earworms. When they are out together, this means Peter can hear whatever Sweetie says, and Sandra, in turn, can hear whatever Nobody says. Many loved-up couples do this: it is seen as the ultimate sign of trust. Peter likes the gesture. The only drawback is that Nobody and Sweetie can’t stand each other, and are constantly bickering. This is probably down to the fact that, unlike Peter, Sandra doesn’t use the assistant from What I Need, the smartest search engine in the world, but instead one from QualityCorp—“The company that makes your life better.”
As Peter and Sandra stroll through Zuckerberg Park down to Michael Bay Boulevard, Peter points up at the astonishingly clear night sky.
“Look at that,” he says. “Have you ever seen so many stars? There must be too many to count.”
“From your viewpoint and with your eyesight, there are exactly 256 stars visible,” says Nobody.
“Great, Nobody, thanks very much,” says Peter with irritation. “Very romantic.”
“Too many stars to count,” says Nobody, “is the kind of inexactitude that human beings frequently let slip, even though it’s no longer necessary in today’s world, where everything is quantifiable.”
“Sandra, you can see four more stars, by the way,” says Sweetie. “Because your eyesight is better.”
“Pah,” says Nobody. “Well, Peter has… a better sense of smell.”
“Well, Sandra smells better,” says Sweetie.
“That’s enough, you two,” scolds Sandra. She turns to Peter. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going yet?”
“It’s a surprise,” says Peter.
A short while later, or to be precise, two minutes and thirty-two seconds later, Peter comes to a halt in front of the entrance to the History Channel Theater. Sandra looks up and reads the advertising display: “Hitler!—the Musical.” The subtitle is “The Story of Ado & Eva.”
Sandra lets out a soft squeak of excitement. “Oh! I haven’t seen a musical in ages.”
“It’s been two years, four months, and eight days, to be precise,” says Sweetie.
“What’s it about?” asks Sandra.
“The tragic love story between two controversial historical figures,” says Nobody.
“Well,” Sweetie interjects, “controversial is a glaring understatement. I guess someone is worried about alienating right-wing advertising clients.”
“There are many different opinions,” says Nobody. “No one can say objectively which is the right one.”
“Fascism isn’t an opinion, it’s a crime!” retorts Sweetie.
“Hey, I was asking Peter!” complains Sandra.
“Be quiet!” orders Peter. “Both of you!”
From the blinking of the LED in Sandra’s earring and the heat rising up from his QualityPad, Peter can tell that the dispute continues, albeit silently.
Peter and Sandra smile at one another.
“They’re always squabbling, those two,” says Sandra. “So, what is the musical about?”
“It’s about the tragic love story between two controversial historical figures,” says Peter.
“Great!” says Sandra. “I love musicals! Especially historical ones!”
“I know,” says Peter. “I read it in your profile.”
In truth, Nobody recommended the musical to him. Peter can allow himself this minor inexactitude, because Nobody is switched to silent. What Peter doesn’t say, something that for some unknown reason is not written in his profile, is this: Peter hates musicals. Especially historical ones.