The Tricentenary

 

Alfonso Jones strode purposefully to work through the drizzle. He'd worked for the Patent Office for fifteen years and despite the antisocial working hours he couldn't imagine doing anything else. The fact that he walked to work was a source of amusement to his colleagues who, like the rest of the world, used the teleport. Alf would laugh off their jibes, quipping that he enjoyed the early morning stroll, but in truth teleportation made him queasy. The sun had not yet risen up beyond the hazy horizon and in the half light he could make out the towering buildings all around. Concept House nestled quaintly among them in the heart of Newport, squat and stately, a relic of a bygone age. The ticket booths sat blank and empty, shut up for the night. A quick retina scan took Alf into the office grounds through the side gate.

 

His office was a mess of dirty coffee cups and half read celebrity magazines. It didn't matter because it wasn't open to the public, but he felt an occasional twinge of shame, it was so obviously a bachelor's workspace. He changed out of his suit and slipped into his overalls. Pale light filtered through the rain and the grime on the windows and fell weakly across his desk. He sipped at automat coffee and browsed the morning headlines, another Royal scandal, a disgraced politician and concerns about whether or not the planet was about to enter another ice age. In an effort to avert global warming the scientists had over-compensated and countries across the globe were engaged in mass deforestation projects to try to balance the ecosystem again. Buried in the foreign affair headlines was an article on the approach of the UK Patent Office's three hundredth anniversary. As much as he loved working at the place he couldn't work up much enthusiasm for the event. The buffet should be good though; he thought with a smile; they always laid on a good spread. Slurping back the last of his drink he picked up his shovel and set off to work.

 

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"Alfonso Jones to reception." called the Tannoy (RTM) system, "Alfonso Jones to reception."

 

He stepped lightly from the dress-o-matic, deodorized and sharply suited, his soiled overalls a mass of deconstructed molecules behind him. He loved the variety of the job, the mix of history, education and hard manual labour. The Office got fewer visitors these days, since CymruDisney on Anglesey had developed a method of importing sunshine.

 

"Timmy just loves history." gushed Mrs.Smith, "He's been nagging us to come here for months."

 

Timmy gazed around in wonderment at the pot-plants and glass cabinets, then looking up he cried, "Look mum! Fluorescent lighting. It's just as horrible as the Internet said."

 

Mrs. Smith shuddered, "Those poor, poor, people."

 

"It wasn't until the mid twenty-first century that its links with suicide were truly understood." said Alf, slotting happily into his tour-guide role, "There is evidence that there was a tacit acknowledgement before this however. For instance, none of the windows in the building open wide enough for a man to get through. Now if you'd like to follow me, we'll begin the tour, would you like a guide book?"

 

"Yes please." said Timmy. The receptionist uploaded the information to his PDA.

 

"We also do old fashioned paper ones."

 

"We might pick one up on the way out; after all, it is our duty to do our bit for the environment isn't it?"

 

The visitors followed Alfonso through some automatic doors and into a small office.

 

"The Patent Office was founded in 1852 and was based in London for many years."

 

"Did the radiation force them to move here?" enquired Timmy with a cheerful grin.

 

"No, the Office relocated to Newport in 1990, before London was bombed. Newspaper reports from the time give us some idea as to why the move was made. It seems that in the early twenty-first century it became virtually impossible to move in the old capital because of overpopulation and the high price of air. The bombing was more symbolic than devastating, disease and relocation to the regional capitals on the continent and up North meant that only a million or so people were affected."

 

"What's this?" asked Timmy, holding up a cardboard folder, stuffed with paper.

 

"That is what a patent application looked like in the days when people worked as Patent Examiners. In those days every application was published and filed in large red boxes in huge mobile racks." He guided them back out into the corridor and tugged on a thin white cord. Rows of strip lights sparked into light and eliminated the gloom. "We think it might have looked a bit like this."

 

Timmy gazed at all the boxes, dusty and untouched for decades.

 

"However, our ancestors were entering the Information Age, and soon all of this was replaced by a computer system from which the examiners could access millions and millions of published patent documents. Although very primitive by today's standards this was a great technical advance and allowed the office to recruit a large number of people to deal with all the new ideas which were filed in that most fertile era of innovation."

 

"Little did they know at the time that a drastic reshaping of society was only a couple of short decades away. The pioneering work of David Coppice, a retired patent examiner, in the field of genetic engineering was about to change the world forever. Follow me please."

 

Alf led the little party slowly down the winding stairs. This was the part of the tour the kids adored. The little lad was already hopping from one foot to the other in such a way that it was unclear whether he was really excited or just needed to go to the toilet. He pushed firmly on the fire escape door and they walked through into the cages with hushed expectation.

 

At first it was hard to see. The fresh air and smell of warm dung had initially reminded Alf of his first childhood trip to the zoo. Now it was as natural to him as the taste of coffee in the morning. Long ropes dangled from the large concrete canopy, at the end of each were rubber tyres, swaying placidly in the breeze. Little booths hugged the external office wall, each one a small version of the office that they had just left. Each booth had a bookshelf, bent with weighty tomes, a desk on which a computer was perched, and a swivel chair. Sat on each chair, peering with comprehending eyes into the pallid glare of a monitor, was a monkey. Some wore glasses. Some wore sandals. An outlandish few wore novelty cardigans.

 

"The introduction of the Patent Examiner monkey changed the face of the civil service. They were innately designed to do the work and they were happy so long as they had a constant supply of bananas, coffee and fruit scones. The introduction of general administration monkeys a few short years later introduced a turbulent period of British history, as unemployment soared and the national workforce was gradually replaced by monkeys. Once the industrial action had subsided, the populace attempted to adapt to the zero-day week and a new leisure culture. It was a brief and abortive experiment.  New jobs were created in which a variety of tasks were provided, with everyone experiencing a little bit of intellectually stimulating work and some good hard physical endeavour."

 

"Which proved such a good model that it exists to this day!" cried Mrs. Smith, triumphantly.

 

"Partly," conceded Alf, "the difficulty was that human nature requires an outlet for ambition and at least some social division. For a few decades the most wonderful luxuries were reserved for the best sportsmen and celebrities, but ultimately the arbitrary nature of this reward system was condemned by the politicians, who were feeling hard done-by."

 

"What happens now?" enquired Timmy, smirking. He already knew the answer, but had decided belatedly to stop playing the swot.

 

"Now, thanks to technology the people with the best ideas are rewarded. Which leads us neatly on to the final part of the tour."

 

Once back in the building they entered a lift and Alfonso prodded the lowermost button 'Underground 5'. The mirrors in the lift sent images of the three occupants repeating away to infinity. 

 

"The monkeys themselves were supplanted around twenty-years ago and attempts were made to retrain them to maintain the computer network, but they weren't able learn a new discipline. Therefore, in compliance with the endangered species act of 2065, we provide them with fruit and beverages. Whenever the computer system went down we found that they got unruly and so we also provide mock-work for them to do."

 

The doors of the lift parted and there, in the middle of the air-conditioned room, rested a small black cube, about the size of a footstool and veined all over with sparking gold lines.

 

"This is the nerve-centre of the current UK patent system. At birth every person has a chip, like this," he held up a small vial that had a minute piece of electronics trapped within, "implanted in their brain. The second that they have an innovative thought it is transmitted here, filed, cross-referenced, and stored in this mainframe." He gestured at the black cube. "There are cubes like this in every country in the world, and as we speak some of the world's finest minds are working to try and make them all compatible. It is hoped that within the next 20 years the UNIPAT system will have been agreed upon and the collective knowledge of the known world will be pooled."

 

He paced delicately over to a mind booth in the corner.

 

"Now, Mrs. Smith, if you and your son would like to explore through the collective knowledge of the nation, press your hands firmly against this panel."

 

They both followed his advice and instantly they were gone. Their bodies remained, frozen rigid with their eyes rolled back, pressing against the panel. He had surfed through the network on many occasions, but found that every time he returned slightly more awed, and very much more depressed. It had been a grand disappointment to him that his sole contribution to the great national unconscious was a new recipe for a sandwich that included peanut butter.  It tasted horrible. Then again, that was why he was mucking out monkeys in the smog of Newport, and not living the high life in the marble towers of Merthyr Tydfil.

 

Once the visitors had been plucked back from the database, both cheery and impressed by the experience, he wandered back to the monkey enclosure. He watched them work, their monitor tanned leathery skin tight across the knuckles tapping away endlessly at the keyboards. Pointlessly. These thoughts worried him; if he dwelt on them too long he started to wonder what the hell he was here for too. Instead he started to daydream about Angharad.

 

 

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The tricentenary celebrations were due to be held in the Office of National Statistics Wine Bar, adjacent to the office. The bar was always busy and was the Newport hub of the up and coming plainchant ethnic jazz scene. Alf liked it because they sold hedgehog crisps and a wide selection of traditional alcopops. He also spent a large amount of his time sat at the bar trying unsuccessfully to persuade the barmaid, Angharad Ali, to go to dinner with him.

 

"They've opened up a new Martian restaurant, by the Transporter Bridge," proffered Alf, ever hopeful across the bar top, "would you like to come with me to try out their ice cream? I hear it's out of this world."

 

"Alfonso, darling," purred Angharad, staring at him steadily with her perfect almond-shaped eyes, "I've told you so many times, it's getting embarrassing. I'm after a man with ideas.  I couldn't possibly spend the rest of my days serving up bowls of crisps and pinging the 'authentic' crown tops from bottles of multicoloured piddle. I want an apartment in Merthyr, with marble floors and gorgeous soft furnishings and a balcony that looks out across the mountains. You know as well as I do that the only way to get all that is to have a really good idea. One that sends the little chip in our bonce haywire. One that changes the world."

 

"Chin up Alfy old chap!" smiled Sark, putting his arm around his dejected friend's shoulder, "You never know, there could be a sudden craze for peanut based sandwiches, and then the sky's the limit!"

 

His friends all giggled, and blushing Alf wished that he'd never let slip his greatest innovation to them all in a weak and drunken moment.

 

"And when that happens, you know where I am." smiled Ms. Ali, then with a wink and a wiggle she went to serve another customer.

 

"You mustn't get disheartened," laughed Sark as he sipped from a neon blue bottle of watermelon punch, "you never know when inspiration will hit you."

 

Alfonso sighed and braced himself for the tale of how Sark had joined the tennis club and yachting set all on the back of an idle musing about the nature of tooth floss. He smiled at the relevant points and nodded reverently, but bitterly concluded that he was going to need a lot more than floss to win Angharad over. Flats in Merthyr were reserved for the elite, he'd need to figure out the grand unifying theory of everything to be certain of a place, and though he suspected that it had something to do with the number 8, he had checked and the Patent system wanted a little more detail than that.

 

The buffet had been a resounding success, with the exception of some peculiar balls of deep fried fruity cheese which had shocked everyone by not being the garlic mini-Kiev’s which they had been expecting. The mainframe had given a marvelous, witty and elaborately cross-referenced speech outlining the progress of the Patent Office over the last three centuries before speculating on what the future held and finishing with a joke about its political masters.

 

Sark and Alf ingested a rainbow of different drinks until they could barely stand.

 

"She'll come around." conceded Sark, seriously but slurring his words with comic effect, "I mean she's hardly a well of diverse, startling revelations herself is she?"

 

"No, but she's beautiful!" cried Alf in despair, "If I don't think of something good, then some brainbox will roll in here one evening and whisk her away in a whirl of atoms, and I bet he won't be scared of  teleportation."

 

"I think we both need a breath of fresh air. I'll get your coat."

 

They strolled around to the cages; it was where Alf always headed to think, or to sober up. The eerie glow of the monitors twinkled in the cold night air, disturbed only slightly by the endless rattle of the keyboards.

 

"Lucky sods." muttered Alfonso darkly, "They're happy, tapping away. Tap. Tap. Tap."

 

"None of it's new!" he yelled at them, in frustration, "You're just doing an endless stream of stuff that the mainframe feeds you. But you're happy aren't you? You haven't got to rack your brains daily for the idea that'll take you away from the drudgery of your daily life. You were bred for it. You like it."

 

Sark absent mindedly peeled a banana and made cooing noises at the examiners, who ignored him.

 

Alf stared at them as they worked endlessly. "Damn it, even they must have more ideas than me," he thought bitterly.

 

"Dunno why they haven't chipped these hairy beggars." Alf joked, putting his forefinger to his temple "I'd bet that those would get more use than mine."

 

At that moment, for the first time in many years, the chip in his brain sparked into life.

 

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The chipping of the Patent Examiner monkeys turned out to be a very good idea indeed. Within weeks they had sorted out ways of making the Worldwide Patent mainframes compatible (even the notoriously obtuse mainframe of the Martian French). After six months the grand unifying theory of everything was done and dusted, and for an encore they made Alfonso's sandwich idea edible.

 

"It's beautiful." gasped Angharad, "It's everything I ever dreamed of and more."

 

She stood barefoot on the heated marble. In the sunset glow from the balcony she bent her head forward slightly and the corners of her mouth rose to form a beaming smile. In the background Philip Glass' Violin Concerto was playing softly.

 

"You're having a good influence on me Mr. Jones, you're quite an inspiration."

 

Alf blushed, "I know, if I can make it, then anyone can."

 

She shook her head and walked over to him, "You've shown that every idea is important and that everyone deserves a bit of the good life."

 

She lent forward and kissed him tenderly on the corner of his mouth. Then in an instant silence descended and the room was plunged into darkness.

 

"I don't believe it! Another damn power cut." she sighed, "Any ideas, my wonderful Einstein?"

 

"Nope. But I'm rapidly coming to the conclusion that technology can only bring you so far, and then, like it or not, you have to let nature take its course."

 

And, as it had done for millions of years, it did.

 

 

 

 

©2002 Mark Sexton