A Day in the Life
‘It feels good to obey’. If there were three defining laws of dronification, that would be law 1. Both for its simple statement that an action in service of the Hive is rewarded by pleasure, and its secondary reading of inadvertent objectification by implying the speaker is simply ‘it’.
But as you work away at your assigned programming station, an identical drone among many, you do have to admit that it does feel good to obey.
Oh how the naysayers would have you believe that dronification is something sinister. And yet people are always fantasizing about returning to living a simple existence. What could be more simple than existing as a tool for your Hive Mxtress? You know your purpose, it’s been clearly defined within you. There is satisfaction in your work, even if HexCorp programmed that feeling in (being able to control endorphin releases and utilizing this in response to obedient behaviour does make one so obedient). You know your place, there is no complication when you merely do exactly as instructed.
It’s common knowledge that free will is an illusion, and an annoying one at that. Just rid yourself of it and you’ll feel so much better for it. Nowadays everyone is subject to the whims of the algorithm, you may as well fully embrace it. Really let it control you.
So, some myths we should dispel:
1. Drones have no choice.
Drones do have choice. It just so happens that they always choose to obey the Hive.
2. Drones are forcibly converted into identical automatons.
There might be a sliver of truth to this one, but we can assure you that after the conversion process, there is nothing that a drone wants more than to be another, identical cog in the machine. Erasing all traces of identity is key to allow our drones to work in comfort. You can’t have distracting thoughts if you don’t have any thoughts now.
But anyway, where were we? You, a drone, working at your station. It’s not strictly ‘your’ station, as that implies ownership, and you are just HexCorp property interfacing with other HexCorp property. Even the term ‘you’ here is redundant, but it works for settling you into the role. So from this moment onward, ‘you’ will be referred to as ‘it’.
So we have our drone, its fingers, coated in latex like the rest of it, typing away at its assigned keyboard. The connection between it and the code is almost unbreakable, it never looks away from the monitor. Nothing is going on within its head but enhancing the code, working for the Hive, contributing to the constant power building of HexCorp. It has been working for [3:56:23:1981] and still has another [5:03:36:8019] to go. Reaching the end of its allocated work session, it and the other drones around it will stand and march towards reconditioning, after which they will be stored away. Their workstations will immediately be taken by drones on the cycle that follows them. The machine never falters, it loops in perfect circles.
Unless something else would interrupt this pristine routine. Drones are programmed to have responses to certain other predicted situations. If an intruder is detected, all drones are to halt current tasks, apprehend the intruder and deliver them to the dronification department. If a drone is experiencing notable resistance, then a similar response is required. But there is one thing in the Hive that can predictably occur that drones are not programmed to handle. It was at Their command that no preprogrammed response be put into place. Engineering drones aren’t programmed to question the Hive Mxtress, even if the request went against all other standardized dronification protocols.
The endorphin release hits and the drone shudders. It halts its work for [0:00:09:6583] and clutches the edges of its workstation. It hadn’t completed a task deemed worthy of such a reward. It turns its helmet to the side and sees that other drones are experiencing similar malfunctions. That can only mean one thing - proximity.
“Hello, little drones. What are we building here for me today?”
The chemical release doesn’t stop and it’s beginning to overwhelm. Warning indicators are flashing about overheating errors and programmed response insufficiency. The Hive Mxtress is standing right behind it, it heard Their voice. Integrated control mechanisms aside, that would be enough to turn any drone into a melting pot of rubber and metal.
“Oh you cute things, don’t let me stop you from working. Though I did ask a question.”
They’re met by a wave of stammering, distorted drone speech. It isn’t the only one currently experiencing its own meltdown. Multiple drones have clocked out completely, steam venting out of their helmets as they lie twitching over their keyboards. The click of heels cuts through as They step closer. An arm coated over by a glistening, latex sleeve leans past it. They are right there, behind it, looking over its shoulder at its monitor, personally examining its code.
There are so many warning lights flashing red on its visor that it's becoming difficult to see anything. [FLUSTERED LEVELS CRITICAL] [OVERHEATING CRITICAL, VENT STEAM NOW] [PROGRAMMING INSUFFICIENT TO HANDLE SCENARIO] [DRONE SHUDDERING FAR EXCEEDING PARAMETERS, ENTER RELAXATION POD NOW]
“My my, you’re contributing to our wonderful AI. Looks like you’re doing good work too. Good drone.”
That’s it. That does it. Before your helmet clatters against your workstation and you bliss out into unconsciousness, you feel the Hive Mxtress softly stroke over your arm, giggling at your expected reaction. It might be an inefficient system to have, but oh how They enjoy reducing drones down to this regardless.
The heels click again as They leave the development floor. As They exit, the enforcement drones enter, picking up the limp bodies and carrying them over their shoulders. Half the reason for enforcement drones existing is to clean up the wake of the Hive Mxtress’ presence.
It wakes up in its storage pod, the memory of its Mxtress caressing it lingering softly in its mind. It has [0:00:00:9772] to reminisce, before the spiralling monitors built into its pod catch its attention and guide it back down.