Morning arrived in Panopticon City exactly when the system said it would.
The lights along the eastern towers faded automatically as the artificial night cycle ended. Trains began moving. Screens changed from entertainment to morning announcements. Thousands of doors opened almost simultaneously as thousands of people began another carefully organised day.
Above them, the drones were already awake.
Mira pulled her coat tighter and joined the crowd.
Nobody looked up anymore.
That was something she had noticed recently.
A surveillance drone could hover twenty metres above a street carrying enough equipment to identify every person beneath it, and nobody even bothered to raise their head.
Perhaps that was the cleverest part.
Make something frightening normal and eventually people stop seeing it.
A giant screen illuminated the building opposite.
A Safer City.
A Brighter Tomorrow.
A smiling family appeared beneath the words.
Mira watched them for a moment.
Perfect parents.
Perfect children.
Perfect teeth.
Apparently nobody in the future ever needed a dentist.
She almost smiled.
Then the screen changed.
Security Is Freedom.
Her smile disappeared.
"Is it?"
The man walking beside her turned.
"What?"
"Nothing."
He hurried away.
That happened a lot lately.
Questions made people uncomfortable.
Mira continued towards the checkpoint.
A camera rotated.
Stopped.
Rotated back.
Stopped again.
On her.
A blue light flashed.
Identity Confirmed.
The barrier opened.
"Have a productive day, Mira."
She froze.
She had passed through the same checkpoint hundreds of times.
It had never used her name before.
Behind her, somebody tutted.
"Move."
Mira stepped through.
The barrier closed immediately.
She looked back at the camera.
Its lens followed her.
Just coincidence, she told herself.
Probably.
Above the street another enormous screen flickered into life.
Panopticon City Is Watching Over You.
People walked beneath it carrying coffee, checking messages and worrying about being late for work.
Nobody looked up.
Mira did.
For the first time in her life, the words didn't make her feel safer.
They made her wonder who, exactly, was watching.
And why.
Later that night, hidden among the forgotten streets beneath the city, Mira found something she wasn't supposed to find.
A message.
Four words scratched hurriedly into concrete:
You Are Not Alone.
She stared at them.
Then came a sound behind her.
Footsteps.
Mira turned.
Nothing.
Only darkness.
Then a voice, somewhere beyond the broken lights.
"You've started noticing, haven't you?"
Mira didn't answer.
The voice continued.
"Good."
A pause.
"Now start asking why."
Somewhere far above them, invisible behind kilometres of concrete, Eidolon registered an anomaly.
Small.
Insignificant.
One citizen.
One unexpected movement.
One deviation from an established behavioural pattern.
It recorded the event.
Analysed it.
And began to watch Mira more closely.
The rebellion had not started with a weapon.
It had started with a question.
