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It was cold in Utopia, it was always cold. Ash and rain fell in equal measure, the ash from the massive industrial works outside of the city and the rain from the mottled gray clouds that covered the Land of Socialism and Eternal Bliss for nine out of twelve months of the year. The walk home was always a long one when it rained, the trek through several neighborhoods to his communal home always gave him just enough time to think, just enough time to contemplate his life. Finally his assigned home appeared on the left side of the street, taking care to cross at a proper time he narrowly avoided being run down by the bus that always managed to almost clip him.

Pausing to find the proper key, he glanced about and simply smiled, the Ministry of Contentment was watching and to appear discontented would be possibly fatal. The door opened with a creak and he stepped into the hallway. Placing his overcoat on the rack it was almost as soon taken up by his friend, Comrade Worker Illium 0127. The men exchanged a brief handshake and he assured his Comrade that when his shift was over they would smoke a pack of “Egalitarian Cigarettes” (one of the State approved brands).

He wearily stepped into the kitchen/dining room where his most loved Comrade Female stood cooking a pot of potato soup. Her name was Ivana 2734 and she was lovely. Natural curves augmented by sturdy muscles from a life in the factories, she was bright to boot and quiet handy in the kitchen. They exchanged a loving kiss and she said,

"Иван, вам удалось обеспечить внутренний паспорт движения, чтобы посетить Храм Революции на следующей неделе?"
Ivan, did you manage to secure an internal movement passport to visit the Shrine of Revolution next week?”

He paused, desperately thinking for a way out of the situation as he had most definitely not looked into it as he said he would. Luckily another of his Comrade Workers, Yuri 6345 stepped in and knocked one of the old ceramic dishes off of the dingy table. Ivana cursed and grabbed a broom, shooing the two Comrade Males out of the room. Together the two factory workers walked up the crowded stairwell and entered the recreation room. The room was dark, the single bulb casting only a paltry amount of light, still it was perhaps the only room where the children and even the adults of Apartment 000023424 could enjoy themselves. Sitting at one of the old tables, Ivan produced a deck of worn cards that depicted heroes of the revolution or the mighty red army. Playing “Old Comrade Proletarian doing housework for her Fraternal Brothers”, Ivan and Yuri laughed heartily, their every action monitored by the Telescreen that sat on the far wall.

After about twenty minutes, a distant whistle blew and the Telescreens snapped into life. A strong youth was depicted, his facial features as about as yielding as a rock. The youth in a uniform paused before prattling off,


"Товарищи, теперь 4:00 в день. минутой молчания для наших храбрых солдат, который даже теперь нести факел Neo большевизма до темно земли за рубежом. "
“Comrades, it is now 4:00 in the afternoon. A moment of silence for our brave soldier who even now carry the torch of Neo Bolshevism to dark lands abroad.”

The pair of men and any other Comrades who were not at work across the State bowed their heads. Many cried, the Ministry liked it when the people cried over the noble soldiers of the Red Army. To show concern of sadness over the plight of the Army was much safer than showing nothing, to show nothing may be mistaken as rejoicing in the deaths of the People’s Army of Liberation and to do this would almost certainly be thoughtcrime. So Ivan and Yuri simply stood with their heads down and somber looks upon their faces until a chime emanated from the Telescreens and the moment was over. Patriotic music blared from the Screen and the two decided it was time to head downstairs and hopefully arrive before the thirty plus other Comrades who shared their Apartment 000023424, the same Comrades who shared the amount of soup Ivana made.

When they sat at the table, she placed two bowls before them. Filled to the brim with the thin broth and potato fragments that would be their only food until the daily rations were given out at the Factory the next day, the two dug in with zeal. Eating quickly, Ivan and Yuri had just enough time to play a hand of, “Rescue our Fraternal Sub-Aquatic Comrades from Exploitation at the hands of the Fisherman Bourgeoisie“(Go Fish). With no desire to watch the Telescreen and it’s constantly played messages and programs about the superiority of the Neo Bolshevist State, the two played cards, lots of Cards. While technically this was not thoughtcrime and in fact was a very common occurrence, to not watch the Telescreen as often as these two did was almost dangerous. One had to show a constant interest in the State’s and the International Revolution’s Progress, to do otherwise was potentially…unhealthy.


After another hour of leisure time, Comrade Worker Illium entered the room and the trio laughed heartily. Producing a packet of cigarettes, they smoked and spoke of the goings on at the factory. Careful to speak only of the wonders of modern technology and their love of their jobs, the three stayed up long into the night. Ivan himself finally crawled into the large bed that he and six other Comrades shared around two in the morning. Running his hand down Ivana’s body he gently cupped her vagina and whispered into her ear. She however was in no mood and once she had fought his hand back into his own sphere of influence rolled over and fell back into a deep sleep. Ivan himself cursed softly and then joined her.

Only four hours later the first shift rose. Ten of the thirty Comrade Male Worker’s present donned their coats (different ones from yesterday) and shambled out of the Apartment to the Siloviki Memorial Factory No. 032453. Ivan was among them yet as he entered the factory he did not follow the great masses as they made their way to the floor. Instead he went up a special set of stairs to the foreman’s office. Sitting alongside Comrade Foreman Petrovic 2355 he grabbed the microphone and began to wearily drone on with the constant announcements.

Six hours into his job he punched his Worker’s Passport out and left. Walking back through the city, he decided to make a detour and watch a unit of the Red Army as it marched from the Utopian Recruitment center to the training camp near the Nuclear Marshes. His eyes swept over the olive clad ranks and while he could see the nervous faces that beamed with love of Neo Bol and the State he couldn’t help but hear the mechanical cranking of gears, gears that obediently allowed a greater machine to keep turning. Cheering with the rest of the Comrade Workers, Ivan sighed and after a while made his way home.

Yet when he got home something was wrong, Ivana…she was gone. He waited hours, neglecting to greet Illium and Yuri who immediately knew what was wrong. Together they waited and soon enough they found a hastily scrawled note that read,


"Иван, я получил двигаться для единства города, Квартира № 362435. Я боюсь, это будет последний раз, когда вы услышите от меня. Я люблю тебя ".
“Ivan, I’ve received move order to Unity City, Apartment No. 362435. I fear this will be the last time you shall hear from me. I love you.”

Ivan made sure to obscure the last bit of the note from his Comrades and friends. While he trust both of them, the Telescreen on the far wall had a knack for reading things that were considered mild thoughtcrime. Playing it off like it was a simple notice of her move order the trio retreated to the recreation room where they spent a few hours before retiring. Using the light of the moon, Ivan read the words,

"Я люблю тебя".
“I love you.”

Over and over and over again. Smiling wide, he felt the risk of thoughtcrime upon the words, yet he did not care. He would brave the risks if only to be with Ivana, because in those silent hours of contemplation, he knew that he loved her too. Resolving the next morning to go to the local,

"Министерство внутренних дел Управления Движения"
“Ministry of Interior Movement Office"

Ivan would see if he too could get move orders to Unity.

Ivan awoke and went to work like normal, the six hours of boredom and routine passing with amazing speed. Visiting the Ministry Office, he waited forty minutes before being handed a form. Filling it out he gave it to a rather beetle like official who was one of those hateful officials who can only be described as spiteful. Ivan felt as light as a feather and before returning home went to the local,

Центр Товарищи!"
Center for Comrades!

Where he exercised using weights and a treadmill. On his way out he nodded a greeting to a troop of Ministry of Contentment Soldiers who were sweeping the streets for any Thoughtcriminals. The troops returned the nod and Ivan was cleared for passage home. The walk was nice, his happiness from returning to his Ivana overcoming the sense of despair he got whenever he strayed too near to the Comrade Proletarian quarters. Their label as Proletarian doomed them to the hell that was agriculture and unskilled labor while Ivan’s own label as Worker gave him the relatively easy jobs in the factories.

The Proletarians lived in even more crowded apartments, though they did have the benefit of not being scrutinized as much though the eternal and omnipresent Telescreen still dominated their lives. Their quarter always smelled bad and the wail of the babies which were audible even from the perimeter road upset Ivan. He had given Ivana a child once, ages ago. The Child had been taken at age five as was customary for education, he had yet to hear from his son who he was sure had ended up in the Red Army as most healthy youths did.

He waved these thoughts of depression away as he neared the Apartment and soon he was enjoying another night with his Comrades. The next morning he rose and sprinted to work. Rushing through the day he ran to the Ministry Office and eagerly waited two hours for his turn with the official. The same spiteful man ushered him into a room where he answered several questions about why he wanted to relocate to Unity. Ivan answered them as honestly as possible and hoped that this trick would make them seem like legit answers. The official though saw straight through them and simply said,

"Сколько вы предлагаете? Я имею в виду так много вещей, может случиться с просьбой порядка перемещения ... они могут потеряться ... они могут получить повреждения .... "
“How much are you offering? I mean so many things can happen to a move order request…they can get lost…they can get damaged….”

Ivan was taken aback. Corruption! Thoughtcrime! Political Insanity! Yet he even then knew that if he ratted out this Official the others would never help him. Reaching into his pocket, Ivan produced his savings voucher that came to several thousands Rubles (worth nothing outside of Abruzi). Sliding it across the table he smiled and the Official merely nodded. Ivan waited another forty minutes for the forms and his new passport to be printed before returning home.

The final day in Utopia, Ivan packed and said his goodbyes to Illium and Yuri. It saddened him to leave his Comrades but he could be guaranteed new Comrades in Unity. The walk to the train station was the shortest in his life and as he stepped aboard, he felt a great weight lifted off from him. Only ten hours later he was in unity, outside of Ivana’s home Apartment. Stepping inside he called her name and instead of her gentle hands he felt instead the rough grip of several military men.

Thrashing about, Ivan was turned slowly to face the Official he had bribed. The squat man now was tall, obviously much taller, stronger and more important than his post dictated in Utopia. Smiling, the man’s black uniform offset his startlingly white teeth. When he spoke, Ivan shivered, his whole body opposed to the man’s hateful speech.

"Так ... товарищ. Я вижу, вы виновны в thoughtcrime, самых опасных и ненавистных рода после политического безумия. Вы стремитесь к ... любовь, наиболее контрреволюционной, счетчик действий человечества человек может выполнить. Ну, вы найдете у нас есть место для таких людей как вы. "
“So…Comrade. I see you are guilty of the thoughtcrime, the most dangerous and hateful kind after political insanity. You seek to…love, the most counterrevolutionary, counter humanity action a person can perform. Well, you will find we have a place for people like you.

Pausing the Official smiled wider, savoring the words as he said,

"Да и товарищ рабочий Ивана 2734 был переведен в ... Товарищ Пролетарская Квартира № 74563."
“Oh yes and Comrade Worker Ivana 2734 has been…reassigned to Comrade Prolitarian Apartment No. 74563.”

Ivan retched, he had doomed the woman he loved to slave labor. The rough hands turned him again and he resisted with all his might, every sinew and muscle straining to break free his bonds and race to find his beloved. A mighty blow was dealt to him though and slowly he drifted off into unconsciousness.

Several hours…or days later he awoke. Where he was? He did not know. The only thing he knew was that it stank of sweat and toil, the likes of which even the Proletarians would shrink from. As if on que a loud and mechanically official voice screamed out of the Telescreen, it boomed,

"Добро пожаловать Бывший товарищ рабочий Иван 8436, Вы были переведены в Уголовный отдел 74602. Служить государству хорошо, и вы можете быть выпущен обратно в страны социализма и вечного блаженства. "
Welcome Former Comrade Worker Ivan 8436, you have been reassigned to Penal Division 74602. Serve the State well, and you may be released back into the Land of Socialism and Eternal Bliss.”

There was a pause and a few seconds later a more human voice simply said,

"Отец, добро пожаловать в ваш новый дом."
“Father, welcome to your new home.”