The Corporate Compact

A corporate name badge glowing like a passport under warm amber residential lighting, transitioning to harsher salvaged LEDs at the edges, the temperature gradient between corporate comfort and the Dregs visible as a color shift

In the Sprawl of 2184, your employer is your country. This is not metaphor. It is architecture. When nation-states dissolved during the Merger Years and the Cascade destroyed what remained of public governance, corporations did not simply fill a power vacuum. They built something new — a complete sovereignty infrastructure that provides everything a state once provided, contingent on one condition: you work for them.

"We wish you well in your future endeavors." — What they say when they deport you
Core QuestionWhen your employer is your country, is quitting emigration — or treason?
EmergedPost-Cascade corporate sovereignty, 2156–2170
Exit Cost¢340,000 immediate + ¢1.2M lifetime earnings reduction
MechanismHousing, food, healthcare, education, social network, consciousness tier — all contingent on employment
Dregs Settlement60% of former corporate employees eventually settle in the Dregs
StatusNever legislated, never voted on — emerged from the interaction of sovereignty and dependency

The Architecture

The Corporate Compact is the unwritten social contract between employer and employee that has replaced citizenship in every practical sense. Under the Compact, a corporation provides housing, food, healthcare, education, social infrastructure, identity, and consciousness licensing. In exchange, the employee provides labor, loyalty, data, and compliance.

The arrangement is efficient. It is often comfortable. It is always a cage — because leaving the corporation doesn't mean losing a job. It means losing a country. Your apartment reverts. Your food access terminates. Your healthcare enrollment lapses. Your children's school placement is revoked. Your consciousness licensing downgrades from Professional to Basic within 72 hours.

What the Compact Provides

Housing

Corporate-managed residential districts. 22°C — precise, controlled, comfortable.

Food

Corporate-subsidized commissaries and Wholesome delivery partnerships.

Healthcare

Corporate-administered Helix packages. Full coverage, full dependency.

Education

Corporate-operated schools for employees' children. Curriculum designed for corporate citizenship.

Identity

Corporate-issued credentials — the Sprawl's only universally recognized identification. No badge, no person.

Consciousness

Corporate-negotiated group rates — 60% reduction from individual purchase. Professional-tier cognition as an employment benefit.

What the Compact Requires

Labor

Or the appearance of labor, given the Invisible Workforce.

Loyalty

Measured by the Loyalty Coefficient. Quantified, tracked, optimized.

Data

Continuous behavioral telemetry through corporate-grade neural interfaces.

Compliance

With corporate governance, values, and culture. Not optional.

The Temperature Gradient

The Compact is experienced as temperature. You feel the border before you process it.

22°C

Corporate Territory

Precise. Controlled. Comfortable. The temperature of infrastructure that was designed for you, because you are still an asset.

26°C

Transition Corridor

Between worlds. Neither comfortable nor hostile. The temperature of the space where you stop being one thing and haven't yet become another.

28°C+

The Dregs

The warmth of waste heat. Of proximity. Of infrastructure that was never designed for human comfort. The same amber lighting, at a different quality level.

Implications

Employment as Citizenship

Every economy implies a relationship between labor and rights. The Compact has made that relationship architecture. You don't earn rights by working — you have rights only while working. The distinction is everything.

Kindness as Control

The Compact's most devastating feature is its warmth. The Sunset Package is humane. The Graceful Degradation Protocol is respectful. The Transition Specialist is trained to make your ejection feel like a gift. Grateful people don't organize.

Internal Refugees

The Compact creates a class of people who have been "released" from the only society they've ever known. They arrive in the Dregs with degrading cognition and no transferable skills. Not immigrants — refugees from a country that was never a country.

Nexus's internal models suggest the Compact is self-reinforcing: each generation born within it has less capacity for independent existence. The cage doesn't need to be locked. The birds have forgotten what outside looks like.

▲ Classified

Unverified intelligence. Handle accordingly.

  • No Origin Point: The Compact was never legislated, never voted on, never formally established. It emerged from the interaction of corporate sovereignty and employee dependency — nobody designed it, and nobody can point to the moment it began. This makes it almost impossible to challenge legally, because there is nothing to challenge.
  • Page 47: Good Fortune's interest rate acceleration clause — 8% to 24% upon departure — is buried on page 47 of the augmentation loan agreement, written at Professional-tier reading level. The employees who need to understand it most are, by design, the ones least cognitively equipped to parse it after departure.
  • The Missing Surveys: The 60% Dregs settlement rate is a conservative estimate from the Corporate Defector Network. The actual figure may be higher, but many deprecated employees stop responding to surveys. Whether this means they've found stability or lost the capacity to respond is a question nobody has funded the answer to.
  • Self-Reinforcing Architecture: Nexus's predictive models show that third-generation Compact employees have a 94% lower probability of successful independent living than first-generation. The Compact is breeding its own permanence. Nobody has briefed the executives. The executives have not asked.

Related Systems

The Corporate Compact is the unwritten constitution of the Sprawl. These are the systems that enforce it, exploit it, and in some cases, resist it.

"They gave me everything. Housing, food, healthcare, schools for my kids, a mind that could keep up. Then I asked a question in a meeting that made my manager uncomfortable, and they gave me one more thing: a letter that wished me well in my future endeavors. I had seventy-two hours before my mind started going gray. I spent the first hour thanking them." — Former Nexus Dynamics employee, Dregs community board, 2183

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