Chapter 20: Steady State

735 Words
“Stability” isn’t equilibrium. It’s a state where everything repeats itself to the point that no one remembers why the numbers were once green or red. I. A Normal Morning The morning opens with the familiar dashboard: System Load — Sustained High: 23.1% Hard Cap — Fully compliant Well-being Index — Slightly increased, not exceeding the threshold Latency Log — Optimal No new event logs. No warnings. The previously optimized targets are neatly displayed: output, exhaustion, performance, downtime rate. No one reads the names anymore — they’re all numbers. A maintenance worker looks at the screen and says: “We’re operating in optimal condition by design.” No one laughs. No one argues. Because everyone has heard that too many times. II. The Afternoon Unchanged Midway through the afternoon shift, a sub-line experienced a small fluctuation in its telemetry data—so slight it didn't exceed the warning threshold. The system automatically recorded: Minor telemetry fluctuation—within acceptable parameters. A technical resident exclaimed: “Always within acceptable parameters.” Everyone repeated that mechanically, like a formula being repeated. The feeling of security came from the numbers indicating there was nothing to worry about. It was just that small fluctuation enough for a passerby to stop, look at the dispatch board with a hint of skepticism—then fall silent, because there was no flashing “red light.” III. The Recurring Meeting The council met at a fixed time. There was no longer a sense of “urgency,” only a sense of “regularity.” The meeting schedule was in the dashboard along with the charts. Today's Goals: Update the Well-being Index Review the Latency Log Confirm Hard Cap Compliance No one asked about personnel, beyond the data report. No one mentioned former employees—like Khoa or Lam—not even in the Well-being section. One member asked a rare question: “If this metric increases, what will we do?” Another immediately replied: “We will adjust according to the updated procedure.” No hesitation. No doubt. Just a system programmed to maintain stability. IV. An Eventless Evening Night fell. No bells. No red logs. No glitches. Just smooth, evenly colored, bright numbers. I walked through the control room. The other staff members sat in front of their screens, unhurried. They weren't impatient, not anxious, just continuing to monitor that smooth stream of data. I stopped behind someone. He was looking at the Well-being Index—the number was still tentatively rising but not exceeding the threshold. Then he typed a few words into his personal notes: Well-being is okay, but… nobody asked this. Nobody looked at that line for long. Nobody touched it. People turned back to look at the charts. V. The Questions Are Closed During the “stabilization” process, many questions disappeared: Are we doing the right thing? Is this limit too narrow? Who is responsible when humans are the variable? These questions were asked in the early stages—when every decision was heavy—but were all suppressed by a common reflex: Not exceeding the threshold → Acceptable. Acceptance is a gentle, concise word. People accept everything without deep questioning: Is it true? Or is it just reasonable according to the data? In a stable state, those questions became unspoken sighs—because the dashboard didn't require them to appear. VI. A Small Number Remaining The Well-being Index increased slightly—but didn't exceed the threshold. The Latency Log fluctuated a bit—but remained within parameters. The Sustained High Load increased slightly—but didn't affect operations. In my personal log, there's a line: Humans are the most sophisticated variable—and the system treated them as such. I didn't enter that line into the system. Because if I did, it would be compressed, tagged, and probably merged into another data module. I know that. And I wrote it in a place where the system wouldn't analyze it. VII. No Thresholds—Only Repetition At the base, shifts continued to rotate. Days passed peacefully. No major incidents. No significant data drops. No red bells. There were only: blue boards round numbers silent employees questions that were no longer asked People talked about the numbers; but what the numbers couldn't reflect was what nobody asked. And in that state of stability— what wasn't asked was the most terrifying thing. End of Chapter 20.
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