LoveStar (8 page)

After love had been proven, love letters were sent out all over the world and people flocked to and from the country in white cruise ships. These were a welcome change from the black LoveDeath vessels, and the smell of money they emitted was much fresher than the odor that clung to LoveDeath. The atmosphere of the town was transformed when hopeful individuals disembarked with a letter in their jacket pocket and a bouquet of roses in their hands, glancing around, quivering with anticipation, knowing that nothing but happiness awaited them. Scientifically proven love and happiness.

It was much more pleasant to see infatuated human sandwiches hauled on board the cruise liners under the Statue of Liberty than to see pensioners piled up in the LoveDeath buses. It could be awkward if someone forgot to put tranquillizers in their coffee and a whole herd of walking LoveDeath came to their senses, burst into tears, called home, and asked whether no one was going to come and give them a send-off or keep them company on the last lap. Even the LoveDeath method itself was undergoing a change. In the future, only twin stars would fall to earth.

Indridi and Sigrid sometimes lay cuddled up for whole days at a time, and for them the letter from inLOVE should only have been a formality. When the letter arrived they had intended to go and cuddle up for a few days in the vaults up north in a continuation of the love and happiness that would last until they fell to earth over the Blafjoll mountains in a blaze of love.

Sigrid's mother had warned her. “You can't beat statistics,” she said, and the blow took no one but Indridi and Sigrid by surprise. It was only Sigrid who received the letter and she looked at Indridi as he stood, head bowed, with a handful of withered leaves.

“Are you going to go?” he asked.

“Of course not! How could you think such a thing?”

“I thought you didn't have any choice.”

“Do you want me to go?”

At that point Indridi broke down into loud sobbing. “If you go I'm going to have myself sent straight to LoveDeath.”

Sigrid went over to him and stroked his cheek. She gazed into his eyes, ran her fingers through his hair, and kissed his tears.

“My darling, we're one already. We're one and will be until the end of our days.”

Sigrid took the letter from Indridi and tore it to shreds. They clung together as never before, unable to tear themselves apart until the sun covered them with honey the following morning and “eat me, eat me!” echoed around the neighborhood, and their love was stronger and more passionate than ever before. For the moment, at least.

VICTIMS OF FREEDOM

LoveStar would have said that Indridi and Sigrid were among the last victims of freedom. They should have known better; they should have behaved rationally and waited their turn. Or as he put it himself:

If any system was bound to fail it was the idea of a free choice of mate. The experiment lasted for around 150 years and ended in disaster. When civilization was established, mankind's first action was to abolish primitive man's so-called free choice of partner. Of course, there was nothing free about that choice. Primitive man had lived by the same system as the animal kingdom and the results were often laughable. He who had the gaudiest plumage, the reddest buttocks, the biggest horns, he who was strongest and most demanding got to mate with the females and reproduce himself.

As mankind evolved, a better and more civilized system was soon invented. A man let his parents decide; they made a cool, considered choice, independent of lust or strength differentials or ludicrous adolescent urges. To ensure the system and unconditional obedience, the parents said that he who divorced his mate or committed adultery would go straight to hell. This was a good idea and everything went smoothly for thousands of years. Those who were unhappy in marriages arranged by their parents could at least blame somebody else. If they fell in love with another they could meet that person in secret and run away together. Beautiful stories were written about adventures of this kind.

But these stories confused people and they began to believe that freedom of choice was always this exciting. To make your own choice was as exciting as making love in secret and eloping on a black horse. But in reality it was chance that ruled. People called this free will but that was far from the truth. People often seized the only thing on offer, or preferably as many as were on offer, because in reality people desired every other person they met in the street and were plagued with perpetual doubts about every choice. By sleeping with one person, people were denying themselves another thousand. Depressing stories were written about free will, about lonely middle-aged men, bitter unfulfilled women, self-accusation, and the children of divorce. It was a vicious circle that no one seemed able to break, and people became like animals once more with their ridiculous ape-buttocks. They competed for the favors of the opposite sex by enlarging their breasts and lips and wasting their energy on cultivating pointless stomach muscles. There was no returning to the old system of arranged marriages as there was nothing left any longer that could be called common parental desires, and no one believed in God or hell any longer. It was not until we at LoveStar discovered how to calculate people that all the problems were solved once and for all. Our system is better. We don't need any hell.

—“The Fetters of Freedom,” interview

with LoveStar in
The Economist

LoveStar and his experts were on a mission to free people from the oppression of freedom. If Indridi and Sigrid had been patient and waited for a scientific result and let themselves be calculated instead of deceiving themselves with their “freedom of choice,” they would never have had to pay this emotional price. They should have known better.

REMINDER

Indridi and Sigrid believed that they had hit upon their one true love of their own accord and that if they didn't answer the letter, inLOVE would forget them and turn to more important matters. Ninety percent of the world was still uncalculated, and they assumed they would be happily forgotten and allowed to possess one another until the end of their days. But it wasn't that simple. Sigrid received reminders from inLOVE. They reiterated that her perfect match had been found and that Sigrid could meet him at the LoveStar theme park next week; enclosed was a booking number for Sigrid Møller, along with bus tickets and a color brochure about LoveStar. On the cover was a picture of LoveStar himself smiling broadly. The inLOVE timetable was listed along with interviews with recently calculated couples who had found a new life and true happiness. Indridi exclaimed:

“Sigrid Møller!!!”

“Calm down, Indridi!”

“Sigrid Møller! Have you ever heard such a thing? They've booked you under the name Sigrid Møller! They're idiots! They're cretins! They're insane! Sigrid, we'll stand together. We won't give in!”

But of course they underestimated the corporate might of LoveStar. At LoveStar it was recognized that some people were quite simply afraid of happiness. When Sigrid failed to answer the reminders, the pressure on her was intensified. By a strange coincidence it didn't matter what Sigrid listened to or watched, the same problem was being discussed, whether on the news or a talk show:

Interviewer: But you thought you'd found the right person by yourself?

Interviewee: Yes, one can be so blind, but inLOVE had calculated that the situation could last a maximum of five years and seven months. (Indridi and Sigrid had been together for five years, six months, and three weeks.)

Interviewer: Where did you meet?

Interviewee: At a club.

Interviewer: That reminds me of what LoveStar said: believing you can find your perfect match at a club is equivalent to asking a bartender to perform heart surgery on you.

Interviewee: I never understood that quote. What has love got to do with heart surgery?

Interviewer: Of course, it could have been better phrased. But what he meant was that, when it comes to a phenomenon as important as love, people should act rationally and let the professionals take care of things, rather than dabble themselves; otherwise they're asking for trouble.

Interviewee: I was young and naïve and behaved like a dabbler, but then we came to our senses. We had ourselves calculated and we've never looked back. It's strange to think that only a few years ago there was no LoveStar or LoveDeath, let alone inLOVE. I mean, how did people cope?

Sigrid's evening shift was quiet once the old people had taken their sleeping pills, and she called her sister Hildigunn to ask for advice. Sigrid had never actually received any good advice from her, though Hildigunn was a year older. They had fought like cats and dogs ever since childhood, because they were as different as Coke and Pepsi. Sigrid listened to boy bands, Hildigunn to rap. Sigrid watched romantic comedies; Hildigunn stayed up late every night watching horror movies. Sigrid generally dressed in white or neutrals while Hildigunn was always in black or neon shades, and so on. The reason was not that they were different by nature. They could have been a perfect pair, but when data started to come in indicating that the older sister had become a rapper and a reliable consumer of everything pertaining to rap, an attempt was made to direct the younger sister down a different path. This was based on research that showed siblings of a similar age were, taken together, equivalent to no more than half a consumer. To prevent the sharing and recycling of toys, appliances, music, clothes, and cosmetics, every retailer worth their salt tried to point them in different directions.

“You're joking, right?” asked Hildigunn, when Sigrid asked for advice. She was still uncalculated and had failed to pick up a temporary boyfriend on the free market. “You've received a letter from inLOVE and you're not going to be calculated?”

“That's right.”

“That's typical of you,” said Hildigunn in disgust. “I'm going to be completely honest here. Indridi is so soft and nice that it makes me want to puke. I mean, planting cinquefoil and forget-me-nots around the Puffin Factory! What kind of man is that, anyway?”

“You've never given him a chance,” said Sigrid.

“They've found your perfect match, girl! Doesn't it get your imagination going? Don't you lie awake at night? Doesn't your fantasy take flight? Haven't you imagined what he's like? What he thinks? What his touch is like? Are you totally dead?”

“I lay awake last night thinking about him,” said Sigrid sulkily.

“What was he like?”

“He was almost exactly like Indridi except not as nice.”

Hildigunn gasped. “Save yourself, Sigrid! Take Per! For God's sake behave scientifically! Do you really think Indridi will resist the temptation when he's finally calculated?”

Sigrid hung up on her and decided to watch a film to calm down. Specially recommended on the menu was “A hard-hitting documentary about inLOVE” and she began to watch it in the belief that it would be critical of the system.

The documentary followed a glamorous young French artist called Pierre. He was calculated with a woman called Sue from Arkansas. She was a down-to-earth, old-fashioned type who chose to remain faithful to her old husband, Bob. The viewers were left in no doubt that Bob was completely wrong for her. For example, he told his friends he didn't care if the old cow talked philosophy and art all day long, so long as he could come in her at night, which is exactly what he did. At night Bob lay on top of Sue and came inside her again and again, whether Sue was in the mood or not. Pierre, her perfect match, was a sensitive soul and had himself launched with LoveDeath when he heard that Sue didn't want to meet him, knowing that it was scientifically proven that in this case he would never again find true love and happiness. Several days after Pierre had burnt up in the atmosphere, Bob was calculated with a beauty queen from Texas while Sue looked on. The beauty queen told her friend she didn't care what kind of man he was, so long as he came inside her several times a night. It didn't take Bob long to give Sue the boot, and then she was alone because she had rejected happiness, missed her chance, and what was worse: she had behaved unscientifically. That was the movie's message.

Indridi moped around at home. As he listened to his favorite music station, a country song (released by LoveSong, a subsidiary of LoveStar) played over and over again about a man and woman who had gotten together the old way before they were calculated with their perfect partners. They were still good friends, nevertheless, laughing together at their foolish youthful infatuation, which, as it says in the refrain (loosely translated): never lasts longer than five years, seven months.

They sang a duet (again, loosely translated):

Man: It's always hard when ways part. But the pain vanished as soon as we met . . .

Together: Our perfect match.

Woman: I met my perfect match and had to leave him for her. For a whole month he was . . .

Together: Broken-hearted.

He: It was a hard time but it deepened my feelings and I understood myself better.

Refrain together: Puppy-love never lasts longer than five years, seven months.

He: I'm glad she went, because right after, I met . . .

Together: My perfect match . . .

It was quite clear to Indridi and Sigrid that they were under attack from all sides, that they would be continually deluged by propaganda until they gave in. Every single howler they met whispered or yelled at them: “Max five years, seven months!” “Set free the one you love, Indridi!” “Save yourself, Sigrid!” “Think of the world, Indridi!” They received the message subliminally wherever they went, but it only made them even more determined to stand together and resist being so easily calculated apart. Deep down they were sure they were made for one another, that their souls were already united. Of course, there were some odds against this happening: four billion to one.

Indridi was not the type who fell for images and film clips and he never jumped at special offers. It was a simple matter to compare advertising showing times on the one hand and dates on his Visa bills on the other to see how slowly he reacted to stimulation. iSTAR knew, for instance, that Indridi was a thoughtful man who regarded himself as intelligent enough to see through the hype. iSTAR knew too that his self-confidence grew every time he resisted being deceived. As a result he was sent a good helping of hype every day to increase the likelihood that he would swallow the reverse: hypeless ads that appealed directly to him as a man of intelligence and rationality. “You're enlightened and clever and you don't fall for gimmicks and special offers. We would never offend you by directing such ads at you, which is why we want to point out to you that as a thoughtful and responsible person you must see that now is the right moment to upgrade your car . . .”

Indridi and Sigrid did not give in, regardless of the methods that were used against them, but various aspects of their lives began to deteriorate. The media was filled with strange programming and all communication systems became slow and unwieldy. Then came the blow: Indridi was denied access to their joint bank account. It was in Sigrid's name, as she had originally opened it. But as things stood, LoveBank felt it imperative to separate their finances. At such a delicate time, Indridi could easily have emptied the account and made off with the money to prevent Sigrid from purchasing “an unforgettable calculation week of food, drink, massage, luxury, and endless cuddling.” At the same instant as when Indridi's account was closed, he received a notification from the Student Loan Fund:

“According to our contract we are permitted to devolve responsibility for debt collection for your student loan to a third party if your loan creditworthiness is in doubt. As you apparently own no assets, we will have to resort to an organization that can collect payments in another form. iSTAR has taken over the contract and will be responsible for collecting the sum of 3,888,689 points.”

Indridi reread the letter and choked on his morning coffee as he yelled out:

“HOORAY! I'M A HOWLER!”

He coughed and looked round. The noise had come from him. A text materialized in the air before him like a cloud. A cheerful voice sounded in his head.

“Hooray, you've joined iSTAR's payment service! Why struggle with payment installments when there's a much simpler way for you to clear your debt? Congratulations on becoming one of a team of millions of people around the world who let iSTAR see to their bills. We have paid the Student Loan Fund (switch to a melodic female voice): 3,888,689 points. (Switch back to upbeat voice) You needn't pay us a dime! We'll put a few words in your mouth and your debt will disappear. We'll exploit access to your speech centers and it may also prove necessary to activate your primitive biological reflexes. iSTAR is above all an easy and entertaining way to pay off your debts.”

Indridi rang iSTAR immediately. He wasn't going to be any damned howler.

“iSTAR, good morning,” answered a female voice.

“Good morning, there's been some mistake. I've become a howler.”

“Welcome to doing business with us.”

“No, you see there's been some mistake. My girlfriend was registered for our account . . .”

“Press one for orders, two for howlers.”

Indridi pressed two. A man answered.

“iSTAR, Howler Department.”

In the background there was a sound of waves and gulls mewing. A ship's whistle blew. The man who answered was sitting in his fisherman's jersey on the jetty in the village of Patreksfjord, smoking a pipe, fishing with hook and line, and talking into thin air. He was a cordless modern man.

“Good morning, I'm . . .”

“Indridi Haraldsson.”

“Yes, exactly, I'm . . .”

“You're a howler.”

“Yes. No. I'm not interested. I want to resign.”

“Contracts can only be terminated with three months' notice.”

“I never made any contract. I refuse to take part in this.”

“According to the seventh clause of the eighth section . . .”

“Are you listening to me? Not a chance, I won't howl a single announcement!”

“One moment,” said the man, “please hold a moment.”

Indridi waited and heard nothing but gulls mewing and the sound of the sea and then the echo of a conversation: “Nothing but a worthless flatfish . . .”

“Excuse me,” said the man, “there was someone else on the line. What were you saying?”

“I'm not going to say anything. I'm staying indoors. I'm locking myself in. Cutting out my tongue.”

The man didn't answer. There was no sound but the slapping of waves and the chugging of a small boat.

“Are you still there?”

“I just wanted to give you a chance to calm down,” said the man. “It's so soothing listening to the fulmars and the sea.”

“I am calm,” said Indridi.

“Good. I should inform you that more contracts have just come in. People obviously don't trust your ability to pay. We will also have to collect 50 percent of the rent for 90 Hraunbaer and 50 percent of your payments and insurance on a Subaru licence number R-72623, in addition to all your subscription fees, Visa bills, data transmissions, including optic nerve connections, and online-connection bills. You are in a state of total insolvency. Unfortunately you have also exceeded the howler limits: speech-center connections will not cover the payments. We will have to have a trap from you every week. You can choose the method.”

“I'm not choosing anything!” shouted Indridi.

“Just calm down a minute. There's a brilliant campaign in progress. Xtremesport needs to expand the market for its autumn line. All traps laugh hysterically when they see anyone wearing a blue Millets anorak. If anyone asks the traps why they are laughing, they howl: