Citizen Us

Serica watched his face intently, waiting for the change, as she held his hand beneath her own. He was focused on her belly, where his hand waited. She felt it first, an instant before the creases along the sides of his mouth curled quickly into a smile.

“He’s so strong,” Nicholas said.

“You have no idea,” she replied, “I think he knows you.”

Nicholas smiled wider.

“It’s strange having someone crawl in you, but I think I’m getting used to.”

“A couple of more months.”

Serica nodded. “Scared, but excited.” She took a deep breath in. “What your father told you?”

“He told me, ‘Having a child is something you can prepare for, but you’ll never be ready. Yet, it doesn’t matter that you’re not ready, ‘cause you’ll figure it out anyway.’”

“Something comforting.”

Nicholas nodded.

“But, we can be better,” she started, and then slowed as she stumbled over the last word, “prepared.”

Dropping his head, Nicholas pulled his hand from beneath Serica’s and ran it over the top of his head.

“World has changed. We barely support ourselves, even now, with me eating for two.”

He nodded, still face down.

“I don’t understand the way you do, can you help?” she asked.

Looking up, he met her eyes. He knew how hard it was for her to ask this of him. Nicholas had spent years fighting against data. There had been some successes, and he had tried so hard to make it work without registering for their citizen domains. But, she was right, the world had changed. Little point even remained in saving money, it was useless in a few years no matter what.

They had been blessed, compared to many others, having saved enough to buy a small place of their own. But, when unemployment infected half the population, their ideas, what they had fought for, had been transformed into another mechanism of control, the only way remaining for many to survive. When they both lost their jobs, Nicholas turned to odd jobs and even became a locally-known woodworker. Keeping up was a struggle, but they had made it work. Now, with a child coming, he had accepted this may be the only way forward.

Serica reached out and grasped his hands in her own.

“The easiest way to explain it is that we all have a website. In this website is where our data is held. This sort of thing was one of our goals, taking back personal data from corporations. But, instead of it being decentralized, the government used the idea. Now, every government ID is associated with its own domain, essentially its own website.”

“And, that’s where our data is?”

Nicholas nodded. “Yeah. Every system online that requests data from an individual must do so from that individual’s citizen domain, for example, serica.citizen.us. Depending on the data they need, the government acts as a broker, selling it to them, if you give them the permission. The majority of that money goes to you.”

“The rest?”

“Supposedly used to pay for the system itself. And, as far as I know, it does. At least it did before I was laid off, you know, from regulating that system.”

“So, people sign up and receive money.”

“Yes, it was a replacement for the failed system of welfare, used instead of something like basic income.”

“How many people sign up?”

“Hundreds of millions. Many people sign up their children as soon as they are born. Upon turning 18, the children’s account is reset and they have to sign themselves up if they wish to continue.”

Serica groaned playfully, rubbing her tummy and looking at Nicholas.

He smiled and stood, walking over to the freezer to retrieve some ice cream.

“We are the few no sign up?”

“The very few. The system is supposed to be anonymous, unless, of course, you choose to sell your name, as well. Some systems rely on this, or even require it, various social media outlets or genealogy sites, for instance, that try to connect you in real life to your friends and family.”

“Sort of necessary for them.”

“Right, but, in the past, they used to pay you nothing for your information, even your genetic information, which is insane! Hell, you would pay them!”

“So, you can upload your data domain?”

“Yes, and the government pays quite well for that data,” he said, handing the bowl homemade vanilla ice cream to her.

Taking a small spoonful, she turned it over and savored the taste on her her tongue, before slowly pulling it out upside down from between her clenched lips. “Mm. And, what does government do with data.”

“Well, they claim it becomes a part of the census, medical studies, things like that.”

“I remember we went over some this when I became citizen, you were against.”

Nicholas nodded. “I was. Still am.”

“But?”

“There’s a reality that cannot be ignored. Like the transition from pensions to 401k retirement packages, it was potentially a necessary evil, shifting the burden from the company’s to their employees, but still a shift in burden to the people. Now, instead of government taking care of the people, it facilitates them taking care of themselves, in this new economic model of enslaved-consumerism.”

“Not sure I understand,” Serica said, moving the spoon in her mouth side-to-side.

“Sorry, got a little side-tracked. Look, I know people have told you it’s free money,” he said, looking her in the eyes and nodding.

She returned the nod, pulling the spoon from her mouth and letting it clank in the bowl.

Take the empty bowl from her, he continued. “It’s important to understand that it’s not free, that all data has value, and your own data is more valuable to you than anyone else. Selling your data is selling something that is very much a part of who you are.”

He turned around and began washing the bowl. Once he placed it to dry, he turned back to her.

She looked at him sadly. “Do we have choice?”

Nicholas breathed in deeply, shaking his head slowly back and forth. “I don’t know,” he said shrugging his shoulders. “I have saved up enough money for the birth, for all of the doctor’s appointments between now and then that we really should not skip.”

“From the crib?”

“Yeah. Strange how building a crib can pay for the birth of your child.”

“I wish we had crib,” Serica sighed. “It was beautiful.”

“If we could afford the wood, I could build it. Same with every project I do, the customer has to buy the wood ahead of time, it’s so expensive. Look, I can live with not eating too well. But, you can’t, you’ll need to feed the baby. Once the baby begins eating, that’ll be even more. I’ve looked at the numbers, they don’t add up even if I work twice as many hours.”

“Can you show me?”

Nicholas nodded. “Let me grab your tablet.”

Returning, he sat down at the table next to her.

Serica reached out and rubbed the top of his hand. “At least we have a highchair,” she said, looking across the table.

“I cannot believe someone threw it out.”

“Not everyone fix things like you,” she said, rubbing his hand and forearm.

“Not everyone is willing to pick through piles of garbage, either.”

She pulled his hand to her lips and softly kissed the palm and then closed his fist around her kiss, returning it to him.

Nicholas held it to his chest, opening and pressing the kiss to his heart.

“Alright,” he powered up the tablet. “The government gives everyone one of these. It’s necessary for communication, entertainment, shopping, of course, and anything you need to do with the government itself. But, it also tracks everything you do. I mean everything. Where it goes, when it’s on, what you are doing on it, and the applications installed can also gain access to that data, if allowed. The crux of it is your citizen domain name. Years ago, we had social security numbers, other identifiers.” He looked up from the tablet, continuing, “Your citizenship certificate, that now comes with your citizen domain.”

“That long letters and numbers?”

“Yes, a 128-bit hexadecimal string.”

“A what?”

“The technical bits do not matter as much, but it is string of digits capable of representing all human beings that have and potentially ever will be. We used to use the strings for identifying devices, now they are used to identify people. And, this is what GlobalNet runs on, what allows everyone to communicate with one another for any reason. But, it also allows everything to be tracked, hence your data, and the system we are discussing.”

Pushing the tablet to her, Serica pressed her thumb to the screen to login.

“Okay, so your profile with the government includes all the information you can share with both the government and the world, and all the settings to make changes. For you, if you look, the government already has your DNA information, it’s requisite upon becoming a citizen. And, because of it, we do get a discount to health care services for you.”

“What about these?” she asked, pointing to several grayed out options.

“You can allow the government to use that data, exchange it with health care providers, businesses, and such. There is another section where the data from your health care providers is stored, and you can do the same with that data, as well. Together, they paint a damn good picture of you and your health.”

“And this becomes free?”

Nicholas nodded softly. “Yes, this is how you get free health care.”

“The money you saved?”

“It’s in a health savings account. At the end of the year, we can roll it over, or pay taxes and retrieve it. Rolling it over, if you are going to use it, is a better idea, as it is adjusted for inflation, does not lose its value. The only reason to retrieve it would to be to buy something needed immediately. This is why when we make money, we spend it quickly, why I have to take into account inflation depending on the length of a project. If a project is going to take months, sometimes it is necessary. Hell, almost everyone uses the HSA as a bank account now, the government has become the largest bank for small customers, given the limits on the amount that can be held, even though they are far above what many can save.”

“Could buy crib?”

“Maybe, a cheap one. Even if I took the time to build one, the cost of my labor alone would not be worth it. Better to save the money in case we need it for food. You can use the funds in the HSA to purchase things directly on the tablet.” Nicholas sighed. “I know you want a crib, I’ve been looking for one to fix up. It may happen, it may not, but at the very least we can start with the box from the hospital.”

“Box make baby cry.”

“Perhaps, but baby is safe.”

“What other data?”

“Well, as I mentioned, it can track everything, it just depends on what you are willing to allow other applications to access. When an application wishes to access your data, a window appears showing how much you will earn from allowing such access, which is regulated directly by the government.”

“How much can we earn?”

“I have been lucky, been able to earn more than I could. With the local exchanges, good community, and what people throw away, we are in good shape.”

“I said, ‘we.’”

Nicholas nodded. “If we both went all in, we would earn more than we do now. And, free health care.”

“You still work?”

“I could still work, yes.”

“Much more money,” Serica said. “For family.”

Nicolas nodded, looking at the floor. “For family.”

“Nosotros somos familia.”

Nicolas stood and walked to the window, staring out at the small preserve in between the condominium buildings. “We are family,” he repeated. He imagined his child running along the trees, in the grass, never wanting for anything. Just like his childhood, he knew it wouldn’t matter, it would be years before the child understood any struggle, Nicholas hoped.

Serica hugged him from behind, her arms around his waist. “I’m signing up.”

Nicholas nodded, lowering his hands to embrace hers. “Okay.”

“You?”

Squeezing her hands, he replied, “I signed up this morning.”

• Short Story
• Distopian