Chan slowly walked up the row.  He stopped and examined a tomato.  He noticed that it was free of blemishes, soft spots, and any white mold.  Somewhere there is a hissing sound, and then a spray of fine moisture.  He tightens the waterproof cape about his neck and proceeds.  The air is moist and damp, and the temperature a pleasant 75 degrees.  In the background far away starlight is visible, peeping through the green branches of distant trees.

A woman’s voice permeates the air, her high-pitched Mandarin echoing all along the tube-like interior.

“Report to the implements shed, the following.”  There is a list of names, about twenty as far as he can recognize.  Near the end is his own.

The interior of the implements shed is strangely crowded, the various robots brought in for maintenance sitting forlornly on the higher shelves of the racks.  A coterie of supervisors is gathered about the center doors, and light from the living quarters is casting shadows, leaving only bare outlines visible.

“New regulations regarding the administration of this complex have arrived.  A balancing body of government is being put together.  One of the criteria is that it most be composed of agricultural workers, and you have been selected.”

This most be some kind of joke, thought Chan, I don’t know anything about government.  I hardly ever even go to meetings.  The speaker went on as if in answer to his thoughts. “The requirement for agricultural workers need not cause you alarm. We know you only have basic education.  Not to worry, the lords will take care of anything requiring, ah, political insight.  You are required in order to balance the present oligarchies system.”

Across the outskirts of Alternation the scene repeated itself, so far unknown to most its inhabitants.  Even if they were aware of the events taking place, they would have had no interest, as their prime concerns were (a) finding enjoyment; (b) looking for an advantage over those closest to them; and (c) keeping their bodies in operational order so as to best implement (a).  Not all, however, were so disinterested;  there were those who had a vested interest in keeping abreast of things not directly concerning the everyday operations of Alternation.  Supervisor Vanderbilt, for example, was keenly interested in trade with the complexes that were not part of Alternation.  He had the franchise on the vegetable market, and in order to get the best for the money he was allocated, it was necessary to know how the various governments were operating.  He had, for years, had an intimate relationship with the oligarchies, both of them and the trading block he represented skimming money off the top.  He had heard something of a rumour concerning a realignment of the structures of certain areas, New Asia being one of them.

Across the top of his desk he observes the street, visible though the great window.  The rich are strolling after the evening meal and entertainment, the not-so-rich and the outright poor giving them a wide berth.  A light flashes yellow as a police vehicle speeds along the elevated rail system, screeches to a halt, and blue-uniformed policemen leap out, guns drawn.  There is a flash of light and then only silence, those on the street below--of the richer sort, carrying on with their walks as before, the poorer citizens glancing apprehensively above, to then scatter slowly into dim openings below the elevated railway.

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