from Anthony - Saturday, January 11, 2003
accessed 1287 times
Is this a "love" story?
FASSBINDER PART III: Bind Her Fast.
Datakomen, the company that hired Fassbinder for his “information” (spying) services, was founded by the late Brian C. Brainstrom, III. The firm’s secret was that, though he was dead he still ran the company, in a way. He was a genius in his own right. His body failed 7 minutes before his 173rd birthday, but his brain, still intact, was extracted from his body and used as the central server for the entire company. However, this obviously was more sophisticated then the “traditional” servers, as he called the shots not only for the firm’s goals and the information systems, but also for most of the employees. Many of the employees were connected to his brain during working hours as this provided for smoother order of business, or a “cuter” order of cultishness. Of course, the brain was hidden in a secret place known only to a few, guarded by physical security as well as elaborate firewalls.
One of the protective features of these firewalls was what the company called “Boomerang Attack”. If anyone tried to hack &/or send a virus into the system, it would return it to the attacker, augmenting the damage 10 times; thus, hacking into Datakomen’s system was not very attractive. No tampering was permitted. Once, a nerdy employee attempted to short wire the connection from the server’s brain to his in order to cheat on his paycredits. Paycredits or PCs was the technology, which replaced traditional paychecks of the not too distant past. Employees’ hours were calculated and their wages deposited into their brains, and whenever they engaged in commerce, they were scanned to see how many credits they were good for. However, not all the banks had updated to this system, nor was there a unified protocol, so cash and checks were still used in so cases. One of Datakomen’s divisions was currently working on such a protocol, but all information about this development was kept top secret. Fassbinder obtained much of the knowledge used to set up this “server”, in previous missions. So back to our computer geek. He had gone to the local hospital and stolen a brain from a newly dead person whom he had previously set up as a living employee in order to multiply his monthly/yearly earnings by downloading from the stolen brain. The system responded to this action with the same vehemence it did to attacks. “Splaterpunk”, “Splatter”, “Splat”, he looked like one those unfortunate flies which land on the electric blue lights, his body twisted like a pretzel, dripping with blood, guts and membranes. His skin melted as his eyes flew across the room and landed in the coffee of the person in the next cubicle, ugh.
Werner Kuhntass had sent Fassbinder the warning email to “prepare him” for what took place that morning, the same way sleazy guys often try to “prepare” potential “scores” with booze and sweet (trash) talk. But how did Werner know about Fassbinder activities in the first place? Was Fassbinder correct in assuming that someone had sold him out? Well, not really, I wouldn’t exactly call it a selling him out. You can never be too sure of people’s loyalties in these kinds of affairs. I was part of the team that made the final decision to retain Fassbinder’s services, but I always thought that he was just a whore who would eventually turn on us if he were given a bigger and better deal. So, can you see the position I was in? At least, this was my official version, in the advent that my little secret should surface at inopportune times and places, in other words, if my superiors were to find out. I needed someone to spy on the spy, but in order to avoid this becoming endlessly circular; I needed someone “dirty”.
Werner proved to be my man, my pawn, but he also proved to be too damn greedy and duplicitous. I first met him a few years ago during Funker Vogt’s first concert on the moon, what a bastard he was…just what I needed. The Moonies were holding a religious rally to recruit young people during that time, off course this pissed Werner off, he being a Catholic, violently disagreed with Sun Myung Moon’s views on Jesus. It was a rather gloomy, dark and misty day, I was on my way to the crescent bakery to get a chocolate croissant when I heard muffled cries coming from a crater ally; Werner had ambushed and accosted two of the Moonies, beat them badly with a golf club, striped and crucified them backwards because, as he said, they weren’t worthy to die as did his lord.
“Imagine that”, he said with a laugh, “Two Moonies mooning the universe from the moon, ha, ha, ha.” I knew I had to call the police and report the crime I had just witnessed, so I rushed out from my hiding spot knocked him down and restrained him with my belt. I scanned his palm to get his ID and that’s when I noticed he worked as DMAC’s Webmaster. “Oh goody”, I thought to myself as I told him the truth about his co-worked, Fassbinder, and the role I needed him, Werner, to play in my plan. He cooperated when he realized that I had caught the whole crime on the camera, which was implanted in my left eye and wirelessly transmitted the data to a storage place back on earth. Besides, I offered him an attractive monthly stipend.
Is it possible that we humans invent horror stories of monsters, ghouls, vampires, vengeful gods and other creeps because we know that they can never be? Is this a way we have of distracting ourselves from the real horrors of our daily lives? The horror the babysitters feel at the thought of some dreadful harm coming to the children in their keep. The horror drivers and pilots feel at the thought of accidentally killing people with their vehicles. The horror children feel at the thought of being abandoned and unloved by their parents. The horror of intruders coming in your house and watching you as you sleep or shower…just watching; with greedy eyes and filthy intent. All of these and more are likely to happen and are not exclusive to the world of fiction. I invite you to explore what terrifies you the most; perhaps, recognizing fear(s) is the first step in dealing with it/them.
The horror of someone you love very, very, very much, leaving you and hating you. Earlier I alluded to having an official version for why I felt the need to spy on the spy. But the real reason was that I was hoping to catch Fassbinder in a slip-up, and I was also setting him up to take a big fall, until Werner got greedy and messed up my plans. Fassbinder had stolen the one girl in this world whom I loved with everything which makes my being. If only he and his influence over her were out of the way, she would see clearly and come back to me, or so I hoped. She was about as perfect as a human can get, and once…once she had loved me. Maybe she still did, but we had only known each other a few months, but I “knew” this would be the one; I would devote my self to her forever.
I had gone away to Japan for a business conference when Fassbinder made his move to bind her fast to himself. Apparently he told her that me and some of the other guys had made a bet to see who would bed her first, also that he had witnessed me cheating on her and doing all sorts of things, which tear down relationships. “I’m telling you this because you seem like a real nice and sweet person…I don’t want to see you hurt by him”, he told her at a company party. I deny the accusations; however he had others backing up his venom. I also found out that he had his father’s doctor friend drug her and remove part of her brain which he was holding “hostage”, in case…”just in case”, he said.
“How dare he treat her as an object and not as his equal?” I told myself over and over, “I want her to love me again, but because she wants to…out of her own free will as an intelligent human being…I don’t need gimmicks and tricks.” As angry as I was, it took incredible skill to compose myself day after day…until my scheme would climax.
Had I ever given her any cause to doubt my loyalty to her? How I wished that I had said that extra kind word, done that extra kind deed even when I was exhausted, everything O ever did for and with her, now just didn’t seem enough. What was the irrefutable proof he had against me? Of course, he didn’t know that I knew all this. But she, why wouldn’t she even talk with me about it…hear my side? I got back from Japan and she was gone, empty house, like a gothic prison without her here, dirty, cold, dark, smoke filled and depressing –a architectural manifestation of my inner state. Trying to relive all the good times with her in my head was torture…horror. What had he done to her? Whatever it was, he would pay for it…and I would break the “spell” he had over her and live and die happily with her.
Well, I realize that all this sounds like a bit of overkill for love gone badly, I know, I know. But sometimes I wonder if Hitler’s treatment of the Jews came as a result of being spurned by a Jewish girl, or man for that matter, since his sexuality is still in question. I mean, they fought wars over soccer in Latin America, so is so unbelievable that I would do just about anything to save this love?
Fassbinder now knew that Werner was working for/or with one of us at Datakomen, but hopefully he, Werner, did not have the name – my name – in his “palm pilot.” Dream on me, dream on and on.
What I wouldn’t give for a pair of tweezers to get these splinters out of my eyes…but then again, that wouldn’t me much good now, seeing that my arms have been hacked off and fed to my dogs.
Fassbinder: “I know what you had planed for me, killing you good and clean would be too easy a punishment for you. I want you think about what I have that you don’t have…what you will never have!”
My guts stuffed in my throat I lay dying…dying without her, and she’ll never hear my side…she’ll never know I loved her, I loved her, I still love her.