Qualityland

THE BLUE EYE

Henryk Engineer is sitting in his bathrobe beneath an arbor in his verdant garden, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. A real newspaper, like the ones his great-grandfather’s great-grandfather used to hold in his hands. Even though e-books and electronic reading devices are to thank for 16.384 percent of Henryk’s fortune, he hates the things. That’s why he bought himself an old newspaper press and has a copy of his personal paper printed for him every night, to be delivered in the early morning by a boy on a bicycle. Henryk yawns and runs his left hand over the long scar on his freshly shaven head. He rests his different-colored eyes—one brown, the other blue—briefly on a blackbird, which has landed a little distance away from him on the lawn and is pecking for worms. Then he turns his attention back to his paper.

At the same time, Peter is creeping across the huge grounds. Genuine grass is a luxury that Peter isn’t accustomed to. He treads carefully, like a child who has found a covering of snow outside his door for the first time in his life and is afraid that it won’t hold his weight, that he will sink down into it. Henryk is so engrossed in his newspaper that he doesn’t notice Peter even once he’s standing right next to his table. Peter clears his throat. The boss of TheShop—“The world’s most popular online retailer”—puts his newspaper aside and looks at him wordlessly.

Peter, too, doesn’t say anything. The two men stare at each other in silence. It seems to Peter as though the different-colored eyes are sending him different messages. The brown eye flashes, as though inviting him to play. The blue eye seems to want to warn Peter. Peter is the first to lower his gaze. He reaches into his rucksack and puts the pink dolphin vibrator on the breakfast table.

“Here,” he says. “I don’t want it.”

Henryk takes a sip of coffee. Then he smiles.

“I just read about you in the paper. You’re Peter Jobless, aren’t you? Sit down.”

Peter sits down.

“You’re of the opinion that this wonderful product was wrongly sent to you.”

“Yes. And I want to give it back!”

“You think the system made a mistake…”

Peter nods.

“But you’re wrong,” says Henryk. “Let me tell you a little story. Years ago, in the early days of OneKiss, there was a dissatisfied customer. I forget his name. We had sent him a projectile weapon, a small-caliber gun. He was very upset and complained publicly. He said that he was against any kind of violence, that the system didn’t know him, and that this weapon had been sent to him mistakenly. I’m sure you can imagine his next steps. He made a stink in the return center, tried to get illegal access to his data, went public with his problem. But nothing helped. It must have been very frustrating. Eventually he came to see me in my office. He slammed the gun down on my table and said, ‘Here! I don’t want it.’ Of course I refused to take the thing back, in complete trust of the infallibility of our system. The exchange of words became heated, there was a struggle, my security people had to intervene. And guess what happened next?”

“I’ve no idea,” says Peter.

“The man somehow got hold of the gun, which was lying on my desk, and shot at me. The bullet went through my left eye and exited through the back of my head. I was very lucky. Only 12.8 percent of all headshot victims survive, although of course I had the advantage of being able to afford the best doctors. I’m sure you’ve noticed my beautiful scar. They had to take off the top of my skull so that the brain could swell after the wound without further injury.”

“Ouch,” says Peter.

“Yes. Ouch. When I awoke from the coma, I immediately had an eye transplant. Luckily I already had a donor on hand. Have I mentioned that your predecessor had beautiful blue eyes?”

“No.”

Henryk’s brown eye sparkles. A special effect he had implanted for a great deal of money.

“Why do you think I’m telling you this?”

“To scare me?” asks Peter.

“No,” says Henryk. “Well, perhaps that, too. But, you see, the real point of the story is this.” Henryk smiles. “The blue-eyed man was wrong. The system knew him better than he knew himself. He was a person who would use a weapon. And I’m sure you’ll also find a use for your dolphin vibrator.”

“But,” cries Peter in agitation, “if you hadn’t sent him the weapon, then I’m sure he would never have got his hands on one, and consequently he would never have used it! His image of himself as somebody who rejected violence would have been correct! The only thing your system provides are self-fulfilling prophecies. By attributing a level ranking to a person and consequently reducing the offers you present to them, you make sure that everyone becomes what the system believes them to be!”

Henryk takes another sip of coffee.

“And so what?”

“I don’t understand,” says Peter, “why you won’t just take back this damn vibrator. That’s all I want from you! It won’t cost you anything.”

“Yes it would.”

“Even if you can’t resell it—we’re talking about 32 Qualities.”

“No,” says Henryk. “The matter has become too big now. Look, you’re even in the newspaper. Even if you were right about your profile not being correct, we could never admit that, because then the system would have made a mistake, but the system doesn’t make mistakes.”

“Yes it does!” cries Peter. “It made a mistake with me!”

“No. That’s not possible. If the system had made a mistake, then for sure it wouldn’t have made just one, but many mistakes. We already simulated the societal impact of such a case long ago. If we were to agree to change your profile, that would lead to a feeling of insecurity that would cause long-term economic damages of more than 2 billion Qualities. And we can’t afford that. So the system hasn’t made a mistake. It’s for the well-being of our entire society. You must be able to see that.”

“No, I can’t!” cries Peter. “I’m like Michael Kohlberg. If I have to then I’ll burn down Wittelsbach a second time!”

“You mean Kohlhaas?” asks Henryk in amusement. “And the town was called Wittenberg.”

“That’s irrelevant,” says Peter.

“Do you know how Kohlhaas’s story turned out?”

“Not happily.”

“Not happily at all.”

“I still won’t give up!”

“Hmm,” says Henryk. “Have you noticed anything special about the chairs we’re sitting on, by the way? Or the table I’m eating from?”

Peter hadn’t paid any attention to them until now. Now he glances at the furniture. It’s fascinating.

“Did these chairs grow like this?” he asks. “They consist of a living piece of tree?”

“Ash,” says Henryk. “Relatively fast-growing trees. I simulated their growth on the computer and prescribed their shape with splints. You have to guide the wood in the right direction and hack off false sprouts. An arduous process. But in the end you get something genuinely useful. Not just wild growth.”

“So what are you saying, that you want to guide me in the right direction too?”

“No,” says Henryk. “You’re a false sprout. I’m going to hack you off.”

He pulls a small pistol out of the pocket of his bathrobe.

“As you can see,” he says, “the eye wasn’t the only souvenir I kept from the last complaint. And it seems to me that you’ve trespassed onto my private property. Didn’t you read the sign that said: ‘Property owner will happily shoot trespassers’?”