The Kubic Kat

By Liam L. Carton

A tale of life and love in the surveillance age

"The digiSleep did not wake him. His wife did not wake him. Instead an enormous cube of light, the size of a skyscraper dropped on his head. In fear he covered his eyes with his arms, but it did not block out the sight of the lump of solidified light descending upon him. As it fell he could feel its weight, oppressive and crushing. Yet when it came to rest, it seemed to hover right upon his nose, as light and ephemeral as a feather."

The Kubic Kat is a tale of the near future. It is a time like ours, and a place like this. But in this future everything is slightly different, slightly more repugnant, and slightly more sinister.

Only by the creation of a Kubic Kat can there be any hope for the future. But is the Kubic Kat what it seems to be? Or are darker forces secretly at work?

From the humorous beginnings to the breath-taking conclusion this book will force you to re-evaluate your preconceptions about technology, and the direction that the world is now taking.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Liam L. Carton
• Release date: Dec 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781310306822

Liam L. Carton

Liam Carton has had more job diversity than he cares to remember, but mostly he has focused on lecturing and software development. He has run a number of businesses over the years and now runs TribalContact, a technology start-up focused on encrypted web-based communication.He has always advocated for human rights and civil liberties, and remains deeply concerned with the direction that the world is taking. He is convinced that, without significant action by ordinary people, a virtual panopticon will soon be completed. He believes that if this ever comes to fruition then it can never be undone. "The entire world is allowing its most basic freedoms to be eviscerated with virtually no backlash, no anger, no uprising. Once these freedoms are utterly lost they can never be regained. And we shall all become slaves to the tyranny of the oppressive eye of this perfect surveillance state."His first book, "The Time Traveller" is currently undergoing editing and review, and is expected to be published in early 2014. A dystopian futurological novel of the not-so-distant future, while even darker and more bleak that The Kubic Kat, it extends upon the same themes and concerns.

Book preview

AnthropicLog: 06/06/2026 (6h00 – 12h00: morning log)

Time:6:42

Event: Coffee machine reports on time initiation

Device: Coffee Maker - IPv10: 1e23-45a...fe-64f9

Time: 6:54

Event: Toaster reports failure to initiate

(Error: Load weight failure.No bread)

Device: Toaster - IPv10: 632a-ff4...a6-cc58

Time: 7:08

Event: Main bedroom alarm reports late deploy

(Late alarm as per central command)

Device: Alarm clock - IPv10: dbec-121...88-ffed

Time: 7:08

Event: Main bedroom alarm reports shut off

(Note: Mr or Mrs Smith awake)

Device: Alarm clock - IPv10: dbec-121...88-ffed

Time: 7:11

Event: Main bedroom waste bin reports

- RFID scan of 2 empty prophylactic wrappers

- Order processing:

Supplies low: re-order

- Mr Smith fulfilling marital duties as mandated by required morality statutes

- Mr Smith appears to be suffering mild sexual dysfunction, as required

Device: Waste bin - IPv10: be2a-898...11-365c -

Time: 7:13

Event: Bathroom washstand cold tap reports usage

- Teeth cleaning in progress

- Cold water use implies Mr Smith awake

- Mr Smith is running 9 minutes late

Device: Cold tap - IPv10: 3e4a-bb4...ae-e3d5

Time: 7:15

Event: Shower tap reports usage

- Mrs Smith is awake and showering

- Mr Smith is not with her

Device: Shower tap - IPv10: ae44-ffc...ce-d24e -

Time: 7:16

Event: Bathroom waste bin reports RFID scan of used toothpaste tube

- Only 27 usages shown: 3 less than the minimum recommended by the Department of Minimalism

- Weight measurement shows over 4.5 grams of waste residue: Mr Smith to be fined for egotistical behaviour.

Device: Waste bin - IPv10: 7432-dcd...32-6776

Time: 7:16

Event: Bathroom washstand cold tap reports shut down

- Mr Smith may join Mrs Smith in the shower

Device: Cold tap - IPv10: 3e4a-bb4...ae-e3d5

Time: 7:17

Event: Bathroom washstand hot tap reports use

- Mrs Smith brushing teeth

- Mr Smith alone in shower

Device: Hot tap - IPv10: a77c-fe9...bd-1297 -

Time: 7:19

Event: Bathroom washstand hot tap reports shut down

- Mrs Smith spent 2 minutes brushing

Device: Hot tap - IPv10: a77c-fe9...bd-1297

Time: 7:22

Event: Shower reports shut down

- Mr Smith spent 6 minutes in shower.

- Further egotistical behaviour noted

Device: Shower tap - IPv10: ae44-ffc...ce-d24e

Time: 7:24

Event: Coffee machine reports coffee pot removed

Device: Coffee maker - IPv10: 1e23-45a...fe-64f9

Part 1 - Comprehension

Mr Smith had a first name, but nobody ever used it. And as nobody ever used it, few people knew what it was. Mr Smith did not really care. But he knew that it was Anthony. He knew that he had been named after one of the countries two founding parents. Everyone knew of Margret and Tony. Everyone knew of their secret love affair and of how they had had to hide that love from the forces of darkness. How they had worked together, to build a stronger, more functional country from the hatred of the Muslims and the anger of the Communists.

He had read the history books, so he knew these things.

But, for some strange reason, he felt ashamed. He felt ashamed of his name; because he knew it was a lie. All of it was a lie. He knew this, not because he had worked it out for himself, and not because he had read about it. He knew because he was no longer a robot.

But still, the name existed: Anthony Smith.

Yesterday, and the day before that, he had been a robot. He had been a robot for a very long time. He could not recall a time when he might not have been a robot, but now he knew. Now he was sure – the robot was gone.

Now, sitting here with Sally, beneath the shady spreading chestnut tree everything was different.

Six days ago, he had woken up to the blare of his digiSleep monitor. As usual it told him the sad truth that it was a quarter to eight, and he was, once again, late. Somehow it never managed to wake him up on time.

After the Jobs for Knobs bill had been passed in honour of Stovepipe Knobs, it had been mandated that those who arose late, even if they arrived for work on time, would still be penalised.

His current penalty was to start work twenty five minutes early each day. Such penalties, intended to act as sacrificial duty to the ego of corporations (now, thankfully sanctified as legal entities), were, of course, not remunerated. And as he almost always woke up late, no matter what time he asked the digiSleep to wake him, his daily offering had climbed from five minutes to twenty five. At this rate he did not think he would ever get back to zero. He had been foolish enough to try to get the sacrifice reduced, by blaming the digiSleep, but the only result was to have a blasphemy fine billed to his account. It was bad enough that he had had the cheek to complain about a Crapple product, but in his case, the digiSleep was the ten year commemoration model celebrating the official Vatican deification of Saint Knobs. He should have noticed the image of the gang of four on the top. (Stovepipe Knobs, Mucky Succubus, Lanky Puke, and Sugary Bum)

He looked up at the ceiling to see the frail shifting lights of the bio-luminescent digiSleep display. Not only did it show that he was late to wake, it also showed that he was now overdue for his monthly marital duty.

His wife lay, leaden and snoring, on the bed next to him. She still had fifteen minutes of sleep left, so the digiSleep had not tried to rouse her. And so he had the choice of rousing her, then arguing over waking her early, and then he probably still would not get the monthly duties completed - or leaving her to sleep.

Looking over at her rotund shape, and mean pinched face, he decided to leave her be. The thought of even talking to her made him want to vomit, and mostly she seemed to have a similar aversion to him. Never-the-less, they would need to get it over and done with soon, or their morality index, already lower than his co-workers, would slip again. Then he could face demotion, and he could not afford to let that happen.

Perhaps, he mussed, that evening he could eat into his little allowance of alcohol, and that might deaden the revulsion a little.

The easyAid bath mirror in the bathroom told him that he should brush longer, take less time to shower, use colder water, and not waste so much soap.

Once downstairs, the coffee pot reminded him that he was late, and the toaster refused to serve him as, it told him that that would just encourage his procrastination and laziness.

He did not like being told off by the toaster.

He felt that the comments made by the easyAid bath mirror were just about okay; after all it was an expert on such matters! But to be condemned by a toaster as being lazy and feckless, it was just too much! He would have to try to find a new home for it. It probably would not even mind, as it seemed to hate all the family anyway.

As he got into his electroZev, hungry and humiliated, it hummed to life and with cheery voiced petulance told him: Tick-tock! Late again. …Please be aware, that in celebration of Margret Thugyas great contribution to environmentalism, the Department of Minimalism have deemed this to be a drive slow day. Your maximum speed allowance has therefore been dropped from twenty kilometres per hour to fourteen. Would you like to walk instead?

That was it! Now he would