Martin Marprelate
The Heir
Open Source since 1588
Year 13, 9th Cohort,
Day One
Fireworks awaken Edward on his 13th birthday – showering his bed with glowing embers.
Brushing an ember off his cheek, Edward says, “Thanks, Mother.”
“Happy birthday! I look forward to your submission by 9:30, and I’ll see you at 10:30 — unless I find a call-out.”
This jolts Edward out of bed. Today is the day!
The fireworks disappear.
Skytext projects birthday wishes from other heirs, the Committee, and the Village and Villagers. Edward waves his hand. “Make a list and send appropriate replies,” he says, as he lifts his arms for the turtleneck to slip on and then steps into his jeans.
They are finally thirteen!
Twelve was such a useless age – too old for the usual pranks and not old enough to engage in the full Cohort Wars. As Jose said yesterday: twelve was the rest before the storm. “At least, for the ruling cohort,” Lilly added with a grin. It made him feel like jelly inside.
But he’s excited!
Now that they are 13, his mother, the HEIR, will no longer be issuing challenges to him — he will be issuing challenges to her. His mother will no longer be presenting him with contracts — he will be presenting her with contracts. No longer will he be held to her standards — she will be held to his standards.
Today, the Cohort War begins.
8: 00 a.m. Contract 13.01 pending {T-90 min}
As their first act in the Cohort War, they must – before his meeting with his mother –which means, within the next 90 minutes – issue the challenge for the First Prank.
The First Prank will determine the likelihood of success for the rest of their lives.
Lilly and Jose are already in the treehouse when Edward is deposited on the platform. He has barely regained his balance when Lilly squeals and says, “I made a sign! Meeting in Progress! Please Wait!” Lilly pirouettes on her tiptoes. “Do you get it? Isn’t it perfect?”
It is Edward’s duty to set the tone, his mother says. She has frequently warned him that he allowed Jose and Lilly to become too familiar. They will forget themselves, she says. “They are only Villagers and can never be anything else. You will be the HEIR apparent.”
Too familiar. Edward frowns at Lilly’s silliness. Especially today. The Cloud injected his breakfast so he didn’t have to try to swallow.
Lilly must not notice his frown. He glares at her.
“A sign on the door! It says: Meeting in Progress. Please wait!” Lilly grabs Edward’s arm. “Isn’t that brilliant? I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier!”
She stops and stares at him: “Don’t you get it?” and she is so perplexed that Edward can’t help but laugh.
And immediately regrets it.
Not the tone he wanted to set his first day as the HEIR apparent. As of today, they are the C-team. Chairman, Chief, and Chief. Edward is the cohort’s Chairman of the Board. Lilly is his Chief Executive Officer and Jose is his Chief Operations Officer. They need to adopt the decorum befitting their new status.
But, looking at Lilly’s face, Edward succumbs again. This time he does a little jig with her.
The sign is brilliant!
And, after all, his mother also says: “Expect extraordinary. But when you get it: recognize that it is extraordinary and respond appropriately.”
This is appropriate, right?
Now he nods his head and grins at Lilly. “Because of the sign, the employees will wait! They won’t just leave.”
“Yes! And wait and wait and wait!” Lilly says, hopping on her tiptoes. “It is brilliant, isn’t it? They won’t knock. They’ll just wait and wait and wait!”
“It is brilliant!”
Edward and Lilly grab hands and twirl around the platform, singing: “The points come marching one by one… Hurrah! Hurrah! The points come marching one by one… Hurrah! Hurrah! The employees stop to suck their thumbs and the points click on and on and on. Hurrah! Hurrah!”
With the last hurrah, they let go of each other’s hands and fall backwards out of the treehouse.
Monkeys swing down the tree branches with them – hooting and howling, stretching their long arms, racing to hitch a ride back up to the platform with a kid.
One succeeds. A spider monkey lands on Edward’s shoulder as he is returned to the platform. He gives her an apple for winning the game and she reaches for another. He gives her another, which she puts in her mouth, and then extends her hand out again for another. “No way,” says Edward and, with a little nudge from the cloud, she swings off the platform and finds herself surrounded by 15 hungry little monkeys jumping all around her.
When Edward looks up, Jose is standing with folded hands and a frown. “This is our first day of the Cohort War and you are still acting like children,” he says in his adult voice.
Edward feels his chest collapse with embarrassment.
Jose’s voice is getting deeper. Edward’s hasn’t yet. Whenever Edward tries to sound like a man — instead of a boy, he sounds more like a puckered baby.
But Edward doesn’t have as many pimples as Jose.
Jose shouldn’t talk to Edward like that anymore. They are the C-team now and Edward is the Chairman. Jose should show proper respect.
Edward contemplates responding in accordance to his newly ascended rank, but chooses, instead, to ignore Jose.
“Record,” Edward says. The hoots and howls of the monkeys fade.
08:30 a.m. Contract 13.01 recording
“Wait!” Jose says quickly. “We’d agreed on the five-million-point forecast, but I’m still worried about it. Maybe you should reconsider.”
Edward stares at him.
“Withdraw,” he says.
08:30 a.m. Contract 13.01 pending {T-60 min}
With a jolt in his heart and sudden weakness in his knees, Edward understands.
His mother had done it again.
She had kept him so busy for the last few months preparing for her own Year 13 performance that he had left the details of the First Prank to Jose and Lilly. His mother had shown him her long checklist – a manual of lectures and tests she was to complete before he turned thirteen, tasks she needed him to perform to complete her assignments, and rules she needed to convey so she could check them off her list. She admitted to procrastinating, trying to cram thirteen years of parenting into just a few months.
But, now, he gets it. She had cleverly prevented him from meeting his own responsibilities. Distracted him so he would leave this critical task to Jose and Lilly.
Anxiety creeps up Edward’s toes and rests behind his knees where it lies like a blob of gelatin, making his legs quiver.
08:50 a.m. HEIR Competency Evaluation {T-40 min}
“I figured you guys would have that worked out by now.” Edward takes a deep breath. He releases it slowly as his mother has taught him. “No compromise?”
“It’s not an easy compromise,” Jose answers in his corporate voice. “If we can achieve 5 million points, it will be the best outcome imaginable. We will be the best in 9 generations. We will earn the Think Big! prize – an additional 5 million points. We will hold First Place in the First Prank, worth another 5 million. Beginning with the highest points of any generation in history, our value for the stockholders is nearly unlimited. We begin our careers with high investor confidence ratings so we can support extraordinary pranks in the future.”
“But you don’t think we can make 5 million,” Edward says flatly.
“I think we might,” Jose replies. “The question is if we should guarantee it. If we should set it as our forecast.”
“If we don’t forecast 5 million and still get 5 million points, what’s the problem?”
“If we forecast 2 million points, and get more than 2.4 million points, we will be penalized 1 million because we underestimated by more than 20%. With that penalty, our net immediately drops to 1.4 million and every subsequent point is further reduced by half until we stop accruing points at all and the penalty puts us at zero.”
“So success hurts us more than failure?”
“Unpredicted success.”
Lilly jumps in, speaking too fast. “It’s a two-tailed test and it should be just one-tailed!”
Skytext blinks quickly. Lilly takes a deep breath and releases it.
“Two-tailed?” asks Edward. His mother constantly reminds him the importance of documentation. You can be wrong, she says, but you need to be prepared to explain exactly why you did what you did and why. Take it slowly. Step-by-step, she tells him.
“It is a two-tailed test,” she says now in her corporate voice. “We are judged by deviation — both too high and too low. Too low is obviously a failure. We don’t meet our minimum revenue goals. But there’s no rationale for making the test two-tailed!”
Jose explains. “A one-tailed test evaluates only if our estimate is too high or too low. Erroneous in only one direction. Too few points. But a two-tailed test penalizes us for under-estimating as well as over-estimating the effect of our prank.”
Lilly continues. “Under-estimating demand for a product or a service can be more devastating to a corporation than over-estimating. If we underestimate demand, we will have too few component parts, too few employees, and distribution issues. The resulting confusion and delays can destroy a business, like a run on the bank.”
Jose nods. “Basically, they are asking us to promise not to do more than we promise and not to do less than our promise.”
“Accuracy in prediction is more important than the goal?” Edward asks carefully. If challenged by the Cohort, he needs to be prepared.
“Yes, but…” Skytext blinks faster and Lilly takes a deep breath. “Our job is to create chaos. And there can never be too much chaos!”
“In other words,” says Jose, “we shouldn’t be penalized for doing our job too well.”
“Right!” says Lilly. This time she ignores the blinking light. “It’s crazy to limit us! You can never have too much chaos!”
A ruckus breaks out among the monkeys. An infant, trying to pierce the cloud, is now stuck in a security blanket. The monkeys encircle the treehouse, hooting, showing their teeth, and jumping up and down for Edward’s attention.
Edward ignores them. Why should the monkey be free when he is not?
Jose is saying: “In a one-tail test where we are required only to meet our minimum, infinite mayhem would be infinitely profitable.”
“That’s right!” says Lilly, and, again, the skytext blinks faster. She glares at it. “We should not be restricted in our success!”
The lead monkey, a big male capuchin, is baring his teeth at Edward. The baby cries pitifully.
“The attorneys say they can support our theory in court if necessary,” Lilly says — this time in her corporate voice.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Jose says. “They’re willing to do any work you pay them to do. Say whatever you tell them to say.”
“Sue if you lose?” Edward asks. “Change the rules?”
Lilly is stiff. “If not us, then who?”
08:56 a.m. Contract 13.01 pending {T-36 min}
Already Edward feels the weight of uncertainty. It is almost unbearable. Win or lose — he just wishes it were over.
His mother reminds him constantly to trust himself. “You have followed a path trod by nine generations with success. Follow the path and you will not fail.”
That isn’t true, thinks Edward. She also says that a decision can be wrong when you’ve done everything right. Survival depends upon due diligence.
But 5,000,000 points? Was he crazy? No one had ever done that before.
8:57 a.m. Contract 13.01 pending {T-35 min.}
Edward is still trying to steady his shaking limbs when Sarah, his eleven-year-old sister, is deposited on the platform. “Happy Year 13, brother and Cohort,” she says. “I came to check on your First Prank.”
Edward says: “You’re not involved. You need to leave.”
“I know you’re doing something today…” she says, grabbing a tangerine and plopping herself down on a cloud.
“That’s obvious. This is the 9th Cohort’s 13th birthday.”
He hears the brag in his voice and tries to pull it back with an awkward squeak.
Sarah doesn’t look at him. She throws a piece of the tangerine to the monkeys, some of whom attack the one who catches it. Others bare their teeth and demand more.
Edward pulls back his shoulders. He is the HEIR apparent. He demands that she leave, but she doesn’t move.
She says: “I know you’re doing something on the 44th.”
Sarah drops the tangerine peels through the platform. “Just because I was born second doesn’t mean I can’t become the HEIR.” The monkeys are fighting over the peels. Sarah drops another one. “You know: the Good Cause Clause.”
“You have no Good Cause.”
Sarah says: “If I prove the Spare is smarter than the HEIR apparent…”
Edward stares at her.
Sarah settles back into the cloud, crosses her legs, smiles at Lilly and, then Jose, and, finally, Edward.
“What will you give me if I don’t tell Mother?” she asks.
“What are you asking for?” Lilly demands.
“I want to be on the C-team,” Sarah says. “Now. Immediately.”
“There’s no space for you and you’re too young,” Edward says.
Sarah shrugs. “I’m your sister. I’m an HEIR. Who makes the rules for admission? What is an HEIR apparent if not the king of his Cohort?”
“It’s like a knife,” says Edward. “One side gets all. You’re on the wrong side.”
“You don’t really know anything at all, do you?” asks Jose.
“Room 4467,” says Sarah.
Jose, Lilly and Edward freeze.
Sarah doesn’t seem to notice. “That’s the deal,” she says. “For loyalty and silence, I want to be part of the C-team. Now.”
Jose whispers to Edward. “The Bailey.”
Edward nods with relief.
Today he is the HEIR apparent. He says, “Security, take Sarah to the Bailey.”
“You can’t do that!” she cries.
“I am the HEIR apparent. I can do anything I want.”
“How do you know I haven’t told her already?” Sarah asks as she is borne away.
Edward feels punched in the gut.
He can hardly breathe. Lilly’s voice sinks in slowly. “The HEIR doesn’t know or she would have intervened already.”
They both know that’s not true. His mother never played it obvious.
The more it appeared obvious, the more one should be wary.
How could he know what his mother knew?
And what would she do?
Violate her duty to the Corporation to save them from the burden of the Cohort Wars or destroy her son’s future?
She’d always made it clear to him that the Corporation always comes first. For her, she said. But, also, for him.
If she evoked the call-out clause, he and his Cohort would be finished for a lifetime.
He would be debt-ridden with no hope of getting credit.
No one would trust him.
His sister, Sarah, would become the HEIR.
Has Sarah already told his mother?
Edward feels his stomach turning.
He checks the Console but the Bailey is on he 13th — one of the deadzones.
He looks up.
08:57 a.m. Contract 13.01 pending {T-33 min}
08:57 a.m. Spare confined
08:57 a.m. 911 Habeas Corpus evoked by Spare
Edward feels the Cloud around him. He is bound for the duration of the dispute. A gentle cottony pressure that allowed one to throw their body’s around without any resistance. So they looked like string puppets in the hands of a toddler. And, eventually, exhausted themselves to cooperation.
The Console shows only Sarah’s face.
“I can hold her for 24 hours before charging her,” Edward says.
“You cannot.”
It hit him like a whip. His mother’s voice. Edward would have sunk to the ground if the Cloud had not held him.
“You are not emancipated yet. And, with shenanigans like this, maybe you shouldn’t be at all!”
Her fury came at him like a hot wind from the Cloud.
It was the cloud, he realized.
“Upon what basis did you seize her?” his mother asks sharply.
Edward opens his mouth, but chokes.
It is all lost.
He can’t see beyond the Console and he can’t hear anything but his mother, but he is aware of Jose and Lilly stunned beside him.
“Sarah, speak!” his mother says.
Sarah says, “He’s just a big baby. He got all mad when I splashed paint all over him! It’s his birthday! I thought it was funny but he said that he’s now the HEIR apparent so he can throw me in jail for it. I told him you wouldn’t let him do it…”
His mother interrupts: “I’m releasing your sister.”
09:25 a.m. Spare released
09:25 a.m. Contract 13.01 pending {T-5 min}
Edward can’t move.
A monkey is squealing. Her baby is trapped in the Cloud. The other monkeys are shaking their fists at Edward. He orders the release of the baby. For thanks he gets the gesture monkeys frequently observe from the angry guests.
What did he do wrong? Why is he to blame?
Apparently, the power to rescue is viewed as the power to prevent…
Hooting and chattering and complaining, the rest of the monkeys swing through the branches and disappear.
The forest around the treehouse is still.
The silence weighs on Edward.
“She didn’t tell,” says Lilly.
Edward shakes his head.
Jose says: “That’s irrelevant. Out of our control Edward, you must make a forecast.”
Edward hates that voice. Almost condescending. He wants to lash out at Jose, but he knows he really just wants to avoid making this decision.
09:25 a.m. Contract 13.01 pending {T-5 min}
It isn’t fair, he thinks. Attaching a number to something doesn’t make it real.
The future can’t actually be counted like apples and oranges. No referents. It’s more like counting ghosts while claiming they don’t exist at all. A guess based on the past with no control over the variables that exert their forces on the future.
No room for error…
His mother has taught him that the past is distorted by the future and the future is distorted by the past.
“But the present is as sharp as a knife. And everything is judged in the present.”
That knife is very sharp.
The cost of misplaced hope is disaster.
You only get one chance to slice.
“We can do it!” says Lilly.
“I can guarantee 2 million,” says Jose.
“But you admit that 5 million is possible! And we can do the impossible! Remember the Physical Decathlon Challenge! That was impossible. But we did it!”
“We were in control of our own performance,” Jose says.
“But it proved what we can do!”
“That argument works against you, Lilly,” Jose says. “We aren’t in control of this outcome. We set up the environment and then watched. We aren’t the ones being tested. Our ability to predict is being tested here.”
“Yes, but we proved we can do the impossible once! Why not again?”
“We lost the Physical Decathlon Challenge, remember?”
That was the lesson that still stung.
It was Year 10 and the C-team accepted Course of Childhood 13-9841: the Reading Consistency Challenge, requiring them to read 25,000 words a day for one month.
It was a reasonable bargain. Each of them met or exceeded the goal every day.
Except one.
Edward’s mother tricked them.
In the middle of the Reading Consistency Challenge, his mother had said, “Today I am issuing the 13-18765 – the Physical Decathlon Challenge.”
They were just 10 years old and had three more years to meet that goal for her Year 13 achievement, but they didn’t know that.
They barely made it through the day.
They began early — swimming three laps in the 25-meter pool on the roof, followed by one run down the ski slope on the 4th floor, set at the black-diamond mode. They knocked down nine pins in one delivery of the ball on the bowling alley on the 10th floor. Rode the Dragon waterslide set at moderate on the 6th, rappelled from the outside wall of the 36th to the 34th, ran one lap around the 1-mile track on the 11th, rode a single wave 100 meters in the wave pool on the 6th, completed one lap around the skateboard park on the 8th, sank a ball into a 10-foot-high basket from fifteen feet on the 11th, and, on the 6th, dove off the 60-foot-high-dive.
No elevators allowed.
By the end of the first hour, they already wanted to quit.
They kept going. They did not retreat. They dragged themselves through the very last test and collapsed. But it was over the finish line.
The 9th Cohort C-team did it!
Edward, Jose, and Lilly collapsed into a cloud massage with deep satisfaction.
Only to learn that they had been tricked.
Each received 500 points for completion of the Physical Education Challenge.
But 500 points were also deducted for failure to study the terms carefully.
They failed to take advantage of three provisions in the contract. First, the Challenge was for the team – not individuals. They could have split up the tasks and reduced their energy output by three. Second, the tasks did not need to be performed in order. They could have rearranged the tasks for maximum time and energy efficiency.
And, most significantly, third: There was no requirement that it be done in one day.
Most HEIRS waited until Year 12 or 13 to issue this Challenge.
Age 10, they were too tired to cry.
They were also too tired to read.
And they also failed their Reading Consistency Challenge.
Edward’s mother rejected their partial performance.
“I bargained for both cumulative time and consistency of performance. Every day and 25,000 words. That was the assignment. Not ‘or’ — the disjunctive. But ‘and’ — the conjunctive. Both quantity and consistency. Not one or the other. Every day means every day.”
“It doesn’t make sense!” cried Edward. “It isn’t fair.”
His mother forced him to stand in front of her and listen. “This is the most important lesson you will learn in the Course of Childhood,” she said.
It never makes sense. It is never fair.
Almost always: the line is arbitrary.
Nature does not create lines.
Rivers change courses and stars move…
Nature changes. Lines do not.
But once that line is set: it is as sharp as a knife.
That’s all there is. No fairness. No justice. No reason.
Just a line. Like a knife.
It splits the whole into 2 pieces.
On one side is success. The other side is failure.
She hugged him while he cried, the snotty sniffly boy’s chest heaving against her, and she whispered: “A fall hurts you when you’re young. A fall breaks you when you’re old.”
“You may not remember the past accurately and you may be wrong about the future,” his mother says. “But the present is as sharp as a knife. And everything is judged in the present.”
The knife is very sharp.
Edward feels it over his head right now.
The C-team filed an Appeal to the Review Committee.
DOWNLOAD PAUSED
This is what you should understand now: History is not a science. It is the story of people. And people are the story of experiences. Plot and character are inseparable.
The Course of Childhood shapes Edward — just as your education has shaped you.
The Course of Childhood is based on Maria Montessori’s theory of children as “little adults.” That’s a simplification, of course. But that is the interpretation taught by the Course of Childhood.
The Course of Childhood applied it to problem-solving, decision-making, and self-control.
Their theory is: Throughout our lifetimes, we face the same dilemmas – but the consequences are catastrophically different depending upon our age and circumstances.
So the Course of Childhood teaches children immediately that people will lie and cheat and steal to influence people and make points. It teaches the children how to watch for it and how to use it for their own benefit.
The prior system left these most important business skills to be learned only by those who expect them…
From this trick that his mother pulled on him – as required by the Course of Childhood – Edward learned to be wary even of his mother… He also learned the value of reading the contract before the lawsuit is filed… And to understand the importance of fine print.
Here’s what happened.
They were 10 years old. They pledged to read 775,000 words over a course of 31 days. Jose read 1,234,876 words. Lilly read 996,321 words. And Edward read 778,953 words. They each met or exceeded the average number of words per day to fulfill the contract.
However, they failed to meet the consistency requirement.
They read 30 out of 31 days.
Jose argued that a month was ambiguous. Divide 365.2422 days by 12 months and there is an average of 30.43685 days in a month. Since a day is whole and not divisible, they could round down, and then they were only required to read for 30 days.
That’s a great argument, isn’t it? Worthy of a lawyer.
The Course of Childhood makes sure that the children start thinking like lawyers right away – focusing on how to protect themselves and still get what their client wants.
The earlier learned, the more flexible the skills and the more immediate the assessment of cost and benefit.
The Committee gave 1500 points for raising the issue, but the kids still lost because the contract specified the actual dates of consecutive daily reading.
The kids were much more careful next time.
Okay, we’ll resume now…
They are still trying to negotiate the bid.
Just to be clear here – the primary concern is the accuracy of prediction – not the amount. As with speed and accuracy, accuracy is the more preferred matrix in the First Bid, especially. Newly ascended HEIRlings are notorious for making ridiculous claims and falling on their faces the very first day of their careers.
Let us continue.
DOWNLOAD RESUMES
09:26 a.m. Contract 13.01 pending {T-4 min}
Jose and Lilly are still arguing.
“It’s about time for someone to win the Think Big! prize again!”
“It could put us in debt for the rest of our careers.”
“But we can’t begin with an expectation of mediocrity!”
“Commitment doesn’t create results. Belief and expectation are essential but not sufficient for success.”
“You’ll never achieve more than you’re willing to risk.”
“Achievement requires a full understanding of limitations as well as aspirations.”
“The world would never change under people like you!”
“It isn’t our job to change the world,” says Jose. “It is our job to preserve what we are given and improve it if we can. And to read the terms of the contract very very carefully.”
This is not helping.
09:37 a.m. Contract 13.01 pending {T-3 min}
Edward feels his insides twisting — as if even his intestines want to escape this choice.
Time is passing.
Last week, struggling with her own Year 13 Challenges, Edward’s mother told him: “Always go to the beginning when you are lost. Retrace your steps. You’ll remember where you are.”
“Let’s review,” Edward says in his corporate voice. “We all agree that we will easily achieve 2 million, correct?”
They nod and the skytext shows a checkmark next to 2 million.
“Do we agree on 3 million? 4 million?”
“Four million is my safest risk,” says Jose.
“And Lilly believes we should bid on 5 million. We have more to gain and more to lose by the higher risk of 5 million. But the intangible difference is that the higher risk of 5 million catapults us into a future that no one else has ever achieved in Cohort history.”
Lilly and Jose both say, “That is correct.”
“Nothing inbetween?”
“What’s the point of finding a middle point?” asks Lilly and the skytext blinks faster. She takes a breath. “Aiming for the average?”
Jose gives her a warning glance, which Edward appreciates. That is the type of familiarity no longer appropriate.
The gelatin of fear weighs in his arms. Soon his whole body will be a cold mass of slush – as mushy as his mind feels.
09:28 a.m. Contract 13.01 pending {T-2 min}
Five million. Is it possible?
How crazy is he to think that he might have 5 million points from the First Prank? Why should he succeed when everyone else has failed? What makes him think he is so much better than his predecessors?
Edward has to make the decision.
The rising panic tingles in his knees.
09:29 a.m. Contract 13.01 pending {T-1 min}
Edward nods. “I am Edward, the HEIR apparent, 9th Cohort, and I approve Contract 13-01.”
09:29 a.m. Contract 13.01 Contract recording
Edward says:
Proposed Contract 13-01: C-team v. Heir:
The C-team will accrue 5,000,000 points based on one point per employee-quarter-hour assessments of off-task behavior — as defined in Regulation 980734563, as determined by time sampling with reliability and verification under the review of the Committee for a period of 2 days. Confirm agreement.
“Confirmed,” says Jose.
“Confirmed,” says Lilly.
09:29 a.m. Contract 13.01 Offer submitted
09:29 a.m. Contract 13.01 Acceptance pending
09:39 a.m. Contract 13.01 Accepted by HEIR
09:39 a.m. Contract 13.01 Submitted to Committee
09:59 a.m. Contract 13.01 Approved by Committee
09:59 a.m. Contract 13-01 in force
10:06 a.m. Scan Completed – Prerequisites NOT met
10:30 a.m. Heir Competency Evaluation pending (T-24)
“You’d better leave,” Lilly says, looking at Skytext.
But it was already too late.
Edward is delivered to the elevator for the 99th Floor.
10:06 a.m. Access approved.
Edward enters the elevator and stands in the circle with his arms over his head, hands together.
10:06 a.m. Scan initiated
Light beams begin at his feet and move up his body, accompanied by whirring, tapping, hammering and thumping. Edward’s skin ripples, his scalp itches, and his heart starts pounding in synch with the tinny metronome.
10:15 a.m. Access approved
The doors open and Edward steps out.
Today his mother is in a field of bluebells sitting on a swing in a white clapboard ranch house with a wrap-around porch and a well-worn dirt path to the stairs. The swing is built for two.
Two.
Despite his nervousness, Edward smiles. “Make your rivals sit close,” she’d taught him. “It forces intimacy and prevents escape.”
The swing is another trick. It’s hard to jump from a moving swing.
It’s going to be a hot night in the HighRise tonight, he thinks in Jose’s voice.
Edward intentionally bumps his mother’s hip sitting down and she bumps him back.
“I declare war,” Edward says.
His mother wipes her eyes as she laughs and cries at the same time. “Oh, my, I have been preparing for this day for thirteen years! And, yet, here I am blubbering like a baby losing my toy…
Eddie, this Course of Childhood was the greatest joy of my life.
But, Edward, my son, I wash my hands of you!” Bubbles float from her fingers. She blows them towards Edward and one floats onto Edward’s nose. She pops the bubble.
“I used to do that for you five times a day,” she says wistfully. “You’d laugh… Bubbles! Bubbles! you’d say. Wash! Wash! You were the only kid in history who thought bathtime was the best part of the day!”
His mother squeezes his knee and smiles at him, eyes glistening.
Without warning to him, the swing jerks.
The meadow shatters.
The house dissolves.
Glass shards break in sparkling glass all around them and disappear in the night.
In the swing, they spiral downward, flowing along the concentric circles of the HighRise.
From above: the Villagers all look as one. An undulating fuzz flooding the cracks between the buildings and the land all around.
Like a single organism.
The PEOPLE. Edward knew the lecture.
“From here, they look peaceful and unified and cohesive. You can see how one moves around the other. How they all sway together when a big truck passes. How they blur into one when you get enough distance.”
He waits.
She doesn’t say anything.
The wind is gentle on his face. His mother’s familiar warm beside him.
As they spiral down, the people begin to break apart. Attached to one another like a tower of blocks from above, they are now a tumbled pile of moving molecules — going in and out of doors, stopping, turning, bending, walking… Always moving but never getting anywhere.
Ants or bees.
“Your duty,” his mother taught, “is to the PEOPLE.
Not the Villagers.
The Villagers are the Mayor’s problem.
You pay the Mayor to take care of the PEOPLE.”
He didn’t really understand why this even needed to be said.
Other than Jose and Lilly, he’d never met a Villager.
“Every single one of those people you see below there want to kill you,” his mother says.
Edward jumps — almost as if someone had tried to shoot him.
“It is their nature to want what they don’t have and to believe themselves entitled to it because it exists and it is in your possession.”
She put her hand on his knee and bent over to look at him. “Even Lilly and Jose, Edward…. You cannot ever trust a Villager.”
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“What did I say?”
“That all these people want to kill me.”
“Including…”
He can’t say it. He doesn’t believe it. Why would she say this?
She says, “Including those who love you and whom you love, Edward. That is why Villagers and HEIRs cannot mix. Love is in constant conflict with jealousy.”
He doesn’t have to believe that.
The Villagers are unaware of them on the street.
Gaggles of people moving like hundreds of gears — weaving around each other, clustering together, rushing past and stalling on its edges. Boxes of cars and magazine stalls and stoplights and crosswalks… Bright signs promising deals, twisted signs saying “closed,” and dull signs of faded toys saying “New!”
The chair rises and the lights become a moving river below them.
“This will all be yours, Edward,” his mother says.
“What if I don’t want it?”
Even as he says it, Edward is clamping down his teeth. Trying to retract the air as it is expelled.
The twist around the HighRise, rising as if on a chain, the elevation only an adjustment of details into a blur below.
His mother finally says, “Sarah wants your job.”
“I know.” Edward pushes the words out past his clenched teeth.
She looks at him. “Do you want it?”
She’s watching him.
He nods his head too fast, too eagerly… He tries to slow down and it just makes him bob.
Control is the key, his mother teaches. If you stay in control, you can always win.
He takes a deep breath. He straightens his spine and meets her gaze.
“Yes,” he says.
A long look before her chin dips and she says, “Then it is yours. I will see you at 10:00.”
With that, he was back at the Elevator.
10:00 a.m. Heir Competency Evaluation commences
At 10:00 a.m., precisely, the elevator doors open to a long aisle lined with corporate officers in dark suits, seated in perfect rows, eyes fixed forward. At the far end stands a solitary table beneath the looming Apex emblem, where the Mayor will place his Dispatch Box. He carries it down the aisle, sets it carefully upon the table, and remains standing before it.
PA: Commence Anthem
The anthem begins. The officers rise in unison, their voices lift in the Apex song:
Hear the towers hum above
Steel, glass and endless love
We stand aligned, we stand as one…
Apex! Apex! Rising to the sun!
Apex, Apex, raise the brand
Points and promise in our hand…
Apex, Apex, hear our voice:
In growth and glory…
WE REJOICE!
PA: Commence Commencement
As the song begins, the HEIR bounds from behind the curtains to the podium, face blurred to the public, arms wide open, and joins the people in enthusiastic song. Her hair is pulled back in a plain ponytail, her white collar is open at the neck, her blue jeans adorned with a simple belt, and feet clad in tennis shoes.
Behind her, the APEX emblem glows and flashes, ringed with stock symbols: AAPL, MSFT, AMZN, NVDA, GOOGL, GOOG, META, BRK.B, TSLA, V, JPM, UNH, XOM, JNJ, WMT, PG, MA, HD, CVX, LLY…. a never-ending ticker 24-hours a day.
Around the emblem, glowing insets flicker continuous activity of delivery trucks in motion, products gleaming on shelves, and smiling employees.
PA: Commence Pledge
The HEIR, the Mayor, and the People all say in unison:
I pledge my life to the Apex Corporation,
and to the Growth for which it stands,
one Company, one Profit,
indivisible,
with dividends and metrics for all.
PA: Commence Sit
The PEOPLE sit.
The HEIR remains standing.
The Mayor remains standing.
“Before we begin….” the Mayor says.
PA: Violation of Order
“But, I need…”
PA: Violation of Order
“We know the prank…”
PA: Violation of Order
“Contract…”
PA: Violation of Order
“4467…”
PA: Violation of Order
“Email…”
PA: Violation of Order
PA: Violation of Order
PA: Commence Opening Ceremony
The Chief Communications Officer steps to the podium and the HEIR sits on a small chair behind her.
We are here today to celebrate new beginnings.
This is not the end of thirteen years — it is the launch of the next thirteen.
Today we recommit to Apex.
Today we rise together.
Each of us is a shareholder in greatness, and together we lift the brand higher.
We thank the People for their loyalty, the officers for their vigilance, and the HEIR for her vision!
Let the past be behind us!
The future belongs to Growth. Expect extraordinary!”
“Expect extraordinary!” the PEOPLE shout.
“Expect extraordinary,” the Mayor says hopefully.
PA: Commence PEOPLE Free Speech
The Mayor says: “By the power vested in me by the people, I present to you today proof that
PA: Violation of Order
will be
PA: Violation of Order
4467!
PA: Violation of Order
The HEIR arches her eyes. “We appear to have some technical issues here.”
The Mayor feels pressure on his chest. Like being crushed between a giant finger and thumb. He feels his rib cage bending.
“Room…”
PA: Violation of Order
Four…” he sputters.
PA: Violation of Order
“Six,” he cries and then he gasps.
DOWNLOAD PAUSED
You’ll notice that, thanks to the Cloud technology, the Mayor looks just fine from the outside.
He appears only to have difficulty with articulation of speech.
But he later claimed to have hallucinated the fines are imposed for leaving his garden hose uncurled, a child’s toy in the window…
The black and white cars that followed him wherever he went and is ticketed for parking too close to the curb and too far away from the curb….
He imagined the debts piling one on top of the other; licenses demanded; claims filed; charges levied; accusations hurled; certificates invalidated…
He was accidentally banned from the airport.
He was assured that it was guilt and these issues would be resolved if he simply gave up.
His struggle, great at first, went from about 79% intensity to 10%. At that point, the Ceremony could resume.
Let us watch.
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PA: Technical difficulty resolved. Thank you for your patience.
PA: Commence PEOPLE Free Speech
The Mayor takes a deep breath. He stretches his arms and moves his neck and head, like a man newly awakening. He pauses for a second and looks out at the People.
Then he takes a deep breath, releasing slowly.
He says in a trembling voice:
On behalf of the People, I extend our deepest gratitude to Apex, to our glorious HEIR, and to this great Company that shelters us.
We are honored beyond words to witness such generosity, such vision, such extraordinary leadership.
We are blessed to have an HEIR who is tireless, compassionate, and wise beyond measure.
We are fortunate to have been cleansed of our grievances by gifts so beautiful, so perfect, so unmatched in all the world.
Let it be known that the People rejoice in this moment.
We embrace the future with joy, with faith, with pride in the Apex name. May the coming Cohort Wars be fruitful, may they be productive, may they be profitable for Apex.
That which benefits Apex benefits the People.
Go, go Apex!
Growth without end!
Expect extraordinary!
The hall erupts in cheers, a storm of applause that rolls like thunder.
Now the HEIR stands and walks to the plexiglass lectern with a graduation cap and gown.
PA: Commence HEIR addresses the PEOPLE
Thank you, Mr. Mayor. The Corporation is appreciative of your loyal support and strong advocacy for the PEOPLE.
You have been a model of civic engagement, an influencer of outcomes, a bridge between vision and implementation.
Your commitment to alignment, transparency, and growth has not gone unnoticed.
You have demonstrated that authentic leadership is about listening, iterating, and showing up with positivity, even in challenging market conditions.
Today we celebrate not loss but leverage.
We pivot together into a future of synergy and shared deliverables.
Your Journey is a reminder that every challenge is simply an opportunity in prototype.
Going forward, the PEOPLE will continue this conversation through empowered channels.
Your insights will live on as part of our continuous-improvement framework.
Please join me in a round of appreciation for the Mayor’s exceptional service and his unwavering belief in our collective potential.
Growth without end…
Expect extraordinary…
May the One Voices continue to Sing Together…
PA: Commence Applause
PA: Continue HEIR addresses the PEOPLE
Good afternoon to the PEOPLE!
This week, I will cease to be the HEIR apparent’s one voice. And let him speak for himself.
There’s a nostalgic emptiness to success of parenthood.
It is the only job where success is loss.
If you do the job well, your child no longer needs another voice.
Today is a triumph for the Treaty of Ascension, as well. Let us be grateful that our ancestors were so wise.
In the past, this process of emancipation was gradual and painful.
A child either wrestled independence from the mother —
Or the mother pushed the child to independence —
Or the adult remained in the infancy stage for life.
Either way, in this push-pull struggle for adulthood, adolescence was considered the most stressful time of life for everyone.
There were no clear goals.
No clear boundaries.
They didn’t understand the gate that needed to be opened.
Thus, everyone flung themselves like moths to the light.
Poor definitions; impossible evaluation.
No way to measure achievement or readiness.
The one-voice parent was shredded at the end.
And, for the child, it was like being thrown into the water to learn how to swim.
Usually everyone drowned for awhile.
And its success was unsatisfactory.
Children capitulated when they needed to rebel. Mothers clung when they needed to let go.
Children remained children long after the years ticked by.
Our ancestors understood.
The mother-child connection is meant to be discarded — like the stump of the umbilical cord. Both swimming free.
This is an issue critical to a perpetual entity — the Corporation.
Which will continue to exist long after we are gone.
Thus, our ancestors in their brilliance, assigned a series of tasks that lead to the twin goals of emancipation of the child and the parental One Voice.
This is called the Course of Childhood. A voluntary course undertaken by the parental One Voice at the child’s birth and continued until the Course is completed with emancipation.
Under the parental One Voice, the child demonstrated the ability to accept responsibility and risk across multiple dimensions. The parental One Voice who succeeds has a child who is ready for adulthood.
Typically, the ceremony is expected around the time the Cohort reaches the 13th Year, but it is based solely on the accomplishment of the goals by the HEIR apparent and the HEIR.
By skill, merit and achievement, therefore a child accepts the responsibilities and consequences of adulthood.
And, yes, some are never emancipated. But that is for their benefit, as well as society’s. Responsibility for their behavior remains under the One Voice of their designated parent until they take it on for themselves through capability, drive, and achievement.
The Cohort Wars are like wooden swords. Preparation for the real thing without the real bleeding.
This is why our Corporation has succeeded for 9 generations! This is what has saved us from the crumbling artifices of democracy and kings.
Through their contractual pranks, our young HEIR apparents learn to independently evaluate, plan, organize and implement contractual business plans. Points are earned and deducted based on accurate predictions. They suffer the consequences of their decisions in everything they do.
But all under the watchful eye of their one voice HEIR.
This model has demonstrated dramatic success wherever it has been implemented.
Heirs trained through Cohort Wars maintain sharp focus on the purpose for which they exist — to enhance the breadth and scope of corporate power, concentrate on market saturation and profit for the corporate products.
For a few years of discomfort, years and years of success ensue.
I am the HEIR, the one voice of the Corporation.
PA: Commence Confession of the Corporation.
Behind her, the APEX emblem glows, ringed with stock symbols: AAPL, MSFT, AMZN, NVDA, GOOGL, GOOG, META, BRK.B, TSLA, V, JPM, UNH, XOM, JNJ, WMT, PG, MA, HD, CVX, LLY. Around the emblem, smiling employees hard at work.
The Heir stands and says solemnly:
I have trespassed.
I have dealt treacherously.
I have robbed.
I have spoken slander.
I have acted perversely.
I have done wrong.
I have acted presumptuously.
I have been violent.
I have framed lies.
I have given evil counsel.
I have deceived.
I have scorned.
I have rebelled.
I have provoked.
I have turned away.
I have acted wantonly.
For the sin I have committed by hard-heartedness.
For the sin I have committed by false denial and lying.
For the sin I have committed by scoffing.
For the sin I have committed in business dealings.
For the sin I have committed by proud looks.
For the sin I have committed by foolish talk.
For the sin I have committed by coveting.
For the sin I have committed by hatred without cause.
COMMENT ADDED
I wonder how many CEO’s could even say that without choking…
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For these sins, I give as indulgence: my name on one university.
For these sins, I give as indulgence: my name on two hospitals.
For these sins, I give as indulgence: my name on three libraries.
For these sins, I give as indulgence: my name on four museums.
For these sins, I give as indulgence: my name on five golden rings…
For these sins, I give as indulgence: my name on six theaters and stadiums.
For these sins, I give as indulgence: my name on seven sports complexes.
For these sins, I give as indulgence: my name on eight chairs endowment.
For these sins, I give as indulgence: my name on nine art centers….
For these sins, I give as indulgence: my name on ten research studies…
For these sins, I give as indulgence: my name on eleven plaques and pictures.
And my name, forever, to the People for a small licensing fee.
With this, the HEIR offers forward a box: The Indulgence Box.
It is carried by the HEIR apparent to the table where the Mayor has stood.
Dressed in a blue suit with a red tie, Edward takes the Indulgence Box from his mother and carries it to the table where the Mayor is standing. He stands across the table, facing the Mayor.
They both open their boxes — the lids like a window sill between them.
PA: Commence Resolutions
The Mayor says: “My PEOPLE have been grievously harmed. They seek redress, restitution, and renewal.”
The HEIR apparent says:
The Corporation, through its One Voice, the HEIR, feels the Pain of the PEOPLE, and has sent me to assuage your concerns, make amends for my transgressions, and those of which I am associated in the Corporation. At Apex, every grievance is an invitation to improve.
And proof of a good Apex employee is the willingness to compromise.
We want you to know that your voices matter. We see you, we hear you, and we honor the courage it takes to share your truth. Our shared future depends on empathy, dialogue, and the healing power of partnership.
Together, we will turn every setback into a step forward, every complaint into collaboration, every injury into innovation.
Because at Apex, we don’t just build products—we build people, communities, and possibility.
Your well-being is our highest metric.
Your satisfaction is our purpose.
Your forgiveness is our brand promise.
Let us begin the process of renewal — together.
I am the HEIR apparent, and I am honored to speak for the One-Voice of the Apex Corporation.
PA: Commence Applause
PA: Commence Grievance and Demand Commence
The Mayor is trembling all over, but the Cloud does not allow collapse. He is struggling — his muscles straining, his face grimacing, but the Cloud makes sure he looks perfect. Only the tears on his face might betray his feelings.
He opens the Dispatch Box, and draws out the first paper.
The Mayor reads: “Grievance #13-01-01: Children deprived of medical care, food, shelter, and nurturance.”
PA: Grievance #13-01-01: Children deprived of Medical Care, Food, Shelter and Nurturance.
Edward says: “As to Grievance #13-01-01, the Corporation offers a new hospital.”
Edward turns to the right and raises his hand in salute.
With the blare of a trumpet and drums rattling the chandeliers, seven altar boys with seven guns come forth bearing a velvet cushion and a model of a new hospital.
Edward turns to beckon the boys to place the model on the table.
Spotlights all hit it.
The orchestra goes into full Apex adoration.
PA: Offer and Request for Indulgence
Apex Hospital will be a beautiful hospital.
Unlike any other.
The best hospital.
The safest hospital.
The strongest hospital.
The most advanced hospital anyone has ever seen.
Apex Hospital will bring world-class care to every family.
Doctors trained in the very best schools.
Nurses who are the most compassionate in the world.
Technology that is second to none.
Most people will travel miles, hours, even days to reach Apex Hospital.
But: It will be worth the journey.
It will be worth the wait.
It will be worth everything.
APEX Hospital is more than a hospital.
It is a promise.
It is a blessing.
It is a miracle.
It is the future.
Brought to you proudly by the Apex Corporation:
Expect excellence!
The Officers rise and cheer.
Balloons are released.
The Mayor raises the Grievance in the air, turns so everyone can see, and then lowers it to the shredder where it falls into 18 ribbons.
PA: Grievance 1: Children deprived of medical care. Resolved.
PA: Grievance 2: Children deprived of education and enrichment.
And so it goes.
It takes all day, but offers are accepted and grievances are shredded.
The Mayor, helpless to collapse, has tears running down his cheeks.
PA: Offer and Acceptance Sealed
PA: The HEIR is resolved of Grievances and Demands
PA: The PEOPLE are free of Promises and Obligations (recording)
You, the PEOPLE, are free.
Today, as is our tradition, we have resolved all your Grievances with Indulgences.
We are assured all your complaints have been included in the Box of Grievances.
We want our upcoming Cohort to begin with a fresh slate.
Therefore:
As of today, you are not bound to this Corporation.
As of today, you are free of all of your promises.
As of today, all Contracts, Agreements, and Obligations are void —
except as to relief, remedies, interest, and penalties.
You decide for yourselves what you want for your future. Like Springroama all over again…
(Of course, since it is your choice to terminate the Contract, whatever remedies were placed in the Contract are not withdrawn.
After all: We don’t have the right to waive another person’s rights.)
If you choose to keep your jobs, then, you choose to submit yourselves to the Cohort Wars and the inconvenience they present.
If you choose not to work you can apply to the Mayor who controls the discretionary fund for the disabled, lazy, incapable, impaired, and social misfits.
Thank you.
I am the HEIR and I approved this message.
PA: All Parties retain their rights to Remedies under existing Contracts and Agreements
PA: Commence Closing Ceremony
The Mayor faces the HEIR and raises his hands in the air above his head as if placing a crown on a head — and, simultaneously, a lei hovers over the HEIR, settling on her shoulders just as the Mayor’s hands lower and he bends with a deep bow.
She smiles, waves and walks out.
PA: Ceremony concluded
PA: Please exit through the doors closest to you; do not linger
10:45 a.m. HEIR Competency Evaluation complete
10:45 a.m. HEIR wardship terminated
10:45 a.m. HEIR apparent emancipated
10:45 a.m. The PEOPLE emancipated
10:45 a.m. Cohort Wars commence
10:45 a.m. C-13.01 implemented
10:45 a.m. C-13.01 notice sent
11:00 a.m. Meeting Rm 4467 {T-23 hours}
01:00 p.m. Alert: Productivity reduction 5%
02:00 p.m. Alert: Productivity reduction 10%
03:00 p.m. Alert: Productivity reduction 15%
04:00 p.m. Alert: Productivity reduction 20%
05:00 p.m. Alert: Productivity reduction 25%
05:00 p.m. Schedule Complete
09:00 p.m. Bedtime
That night the C-team recline in their clouds in the Treehouse — the sky spread like a bowl above them, black velvet sparkling like threads of gold and silver woven with wisps of silky clouds.
The have celebrated themselves to exhaustion.
“Look at all those stars,” says Lilly. “Can you believe that there are so many worlds that aren’t even ours, yet? Do you think they belong to the Apex Corporation, too?”
An owl hoots.
“Yet just specks of light to us. Yet, bigger than the earth,” Jose says.
The hum of the Cloud is dampened at night.
The silence pulls Edward’s attention to itself, as if its very absence is its own hum — an unfulfilled expectation that makes the void more precious — the silence deeper, as if falling to a hole where once there was light and now there is none. A crackling halo of no sound.
Edward says, “We’ll never be kids again.”
Lilly reaches through her cloud to bop his shoulder. “That was only yesterday,” she says.
A monkey disturbs another monkey’s sleep in the tree beside them.
“Today seems so far away, then,” Edward says.
There’s a brief squabble as the monkeys bicker back to sleep.
And then the night settles back to the gauzy wind on their cheeks and soft moon shadows on their faces.
“Five years from now we have the Springroama,” Edward says. “A few weeks before we have to go into making children.”
“We aren’t under that obligation,” says Lilly. “You are. No one cares about our tissue.”
“You and Jose will be partnered at 18.”
“We’re practically partners now,” Jose says brightly.
The silence settles like a sheet upon the deck.
Even the cricket stops.
“How can we lose?” Edward says at last.
“We did it!” says Lilly.
Jose says, “But, change is the nature of things.”
“We’re on our way up,” Lilly says.
“If you start at the top, where can you go?” says Jose.
“Oh, go honk your horn, Eeyore,” says Lilly.
The owl hoots again.
A little grey cloud passes the moon.
The crickets are now tuning their orchestra with discordant bows.
Lilly says, “Look where we are. Look at all those stars. They’re ours for the plucking.”
“Pluck or be plucked,” Jose says.
“Not us,” says Lilly. “We’re already plucked.”
“That isn’t what I meant,” Jose says.
“But Edward… Oh, yes, Edward… You’re going to be plucked, aren’t you Edward? The list’s already running…. Do you hear it: Y13-16 available mates. The computers are generating…”
“Shut up,” says Edward.
“And your choices are… Come on you have to make a decision! Which one do you want? Will it be… Cordelia?”
“Go to sleep,” says Edward
“I don’t mind being matched to you,” says Jose.
“I’ll bet its Cordelia,” says Lilly.
“Cordelia?” Edward groans. “That wigged-out artist? No way.”
“You wanna bet?”
“I can’t bet,” he says. “I’m a corporation now.”
They lie quiet.
“We did it, didn’t we?” Edward says.
The productivity decrease began before they even left on Day One. Better than they expected.
But Edward is glad he doesn’t know the outcome yet.
There are many possibilities before the arrow lands… None once its point makes contact.
Jose and Lilly are snoring softly in their Clouds.
But Edward still cannot sleep.
How can it be better than this? he thinks, looking out at the blanket of twinkling stars above him.
It can’t be better than this…
But if not better, then what?
Is Jose right? Is this the best it will ever be?
What if he is the Last HEIR?
His mother told him that HEIRs were especially chosen by God.
But Lilly said God chose the losers, too.
Too bad time can’t just be stopped at the perfect moments, Edward thinks as he falls asleep.
The owl calls once more, then nothing but the slow rasp of crickets.
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Professor
That’s the end of the first day.
I hope you all enjoyed it. When we return, we will go to Day Two… After that, things will progress much faster, I promise you.
Day Two
Welcome back. We’re going to jump right in. But, first, I thought you might enjoy this. As a new member of the Junior Board of Directors, Edward has to attend meetings. It is a tradition for the first meeting to be a hazing, of sorts.
Join them.
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Part of the Martin Marprelate Returns collection