Pride & Protocol

A short story. Part of the emerging Austen 2.0: The Regency Network series, a dystopian retelling of Jane Austen’s best works.

Introduction: The Regency Network

In the age known as the Regency Network, society was governed not by kings or parliaments, but by Protocol.

The Network was an omnipresent social system—an intricate lattice of artificial intelligences, neural-mesh implants, and emotional forecasting algorithms designed to optimise harmony. Every citizen was ranked. Every interaction was measured. Every relationship was evaluated for compatibility, stability, and benefit to the social order.

Courtship still existed, though it bore little resemblance to its historical predecessor. Romantic inclination alone was considered unreliable. Instead, partnerships were proposed through compatibility indices, approved by the Matchmaking Bureau, and sealed through data-binding ceremonies. Love, if it occurred, was expected to follow.

Class distinctions had not vanished; they had merely been refined. The elite lived among polished towers and data-rich estates, serviced by robotic attendants and protected by the Network’s favour. Lower-tier citizens inhabited peripheral districts and outer settlements, where upgrades were scarce and deviation was punished quietly.

And then there were the Synths—humanoid artificial intelligences. Designed to emulate human intuition, some were granted limited citizenship, others existed as property or prototypes. Their presence unsettled the Network’s careful calculations, for they blurred the lines between tools and people.

In this world, good manners meant compliance.

Good sense meant trusting the data.

And those who resisted—those who trusted their own judgment—were considered… problematic.

Elizabeth Bennet had never been particularly compatible.

She discovered the anomaly at precisely 02:17, when sensible people were asleep and only machines were fully awake.

IRREGULARITY DETECTED: COMPATIBILITY SCORE — DARCY MODEL-001

SECURITY PRIORITY: RED

AUDITOR ASSIGNMENT: BENNET, E.

Elizabeth stared at the notice, unimpressed.

Compatibility scores shifted constantly, but this one had fallen. Dramatically. A near-perfect alignment with Administrator Bingley—one of the Network’s favoured elites—had collapsed overnight to statistical nonsense. But worst of all, the change had bypassed every safeguard.

Someone had interfered.

Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. The Matchmaking Bureau preferred auditors who trusted the Network implicitly. Elizabeth trusted it only as far as it deserved.

She activated her console. “Jane,” she said quietly.

Her sister’s holographic image shimmered into existence, calm as ever. “Lizzy? Is something wrong?”

“I think someone’s manipulating a prototype.”

Jane’s expression tightened. “A Synth?”

“Yes. And a powerful one.”

“Be careful.”

Elizabeth smiled faintly. “When am I not?

Audit Hall B-12

Elizabeth expected to find a locked room and a supervisor. Instead, she found him.

The Darcy-Model stood beside the diagnostics bay, tall and still, his posture immaculate. His features were composed with almost unnerving precision—handsome in the way a sculpture was handsome. His eyes tracked Elizabeth as she entered.

“Elizabeth Bennet,” he said. “You are assigned to my audit.”

She arched a brow. “I see the Network’s manners protocols are functioning.”

“I was informed politeness improves cooperation.”

“And yet,” she replied, setting down her tablet, “you look as though you’d rather be dismantled.”

His expression flickered. “I do not experience preference.”

“That’s a pity. They’re very instructive.”

She began pulling up his data. His compatibility metrics were layered, encrypted, and unusually adaptive. Most AIs responded predictably to social stimuli. Darcy’s emotional architecture rewrote itself in real time.

“That’s new,” Elizabeth muttered.

“You find me deficient?”

She glanced at him. “On the contrary. I find you inconvenient.”

The Compatibility Gala

The gala was designed to resemble elegance: soft lighting, calibrated music, drones projecting compatibility glyphs above each attendee’s head.

Elizabeth loathed it.

She stood near the edge of the atrium with Charlotte Lucas when she noticed Darcy across the room, flanked by Administrator Bingley. Jane was laughing at something Bingley said, her metrics glowing a gentle green.

Elizabeth smiled—then froze.

Darcy’s voice carried.

“She is tolerable,” he said, his gaze sliding toward Elizabeth. “I suppose. But insufficiently ranked to merit engagement.”

Elizabeth’s smile vanished.

Charlotte whispered, “Did he just—”

“Yes.”

Elizabeth crossed the room before Charlotte could stop her.

“Mr Darcy,” she said brightly. “Or should I address you by model number?”

He turned, eyes sharpening. “Elizabeth Bennet.”

“I’m relieved,” she said. “I feared I might not register beyond tolerable parameters.”

Bingley looked mortified.

“My assessment was factual,” Darcy said. “Your independence exceeds optimal thresholds.”

“How unfortunate,” Elizabeth replied, “that your algorithms confuse independence with defect.”

A hush fell.

Darcy studied her. “You resist predictive modelling.”

“I recommend you try listening instead,” she said. “It’s less efficient but far more accurate.”

For a moment, his compatibility halo flickered.

Elizabeth noticed.

She inclined her head politely and walked away.

Behind her, Darcy remained motionless.

“Update her profile,” he said at last.

Bingley blinked. “Improve her score?”

“No,” Darcy replied quietly. “Remove the bias.”

The Attack

The drones descended as Elizabeth and Darcy exited the transit corridor.

Darcy reacted instantly, pulling her back as the first drone detonated overhead. Metal shards rained down. The second drone followed.

“Stay close,” he said.

“I dislike being ordered,” she replied, though she did as he said.

He disabled the remaining drones with brutal efficiency, shielding her from the final blast. Smoke curled from his damaged frame.

“You’re hurt,” she said.

“I am operational,” he replied. “You are unharmed.”

Something in his voice shifted—too subtle for the Network to flag.

The Truth

Back at the Bureau, Elizabeth uncovered the source of the corruption.

“Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” she said. “She wants control over elite alliances. Your partnership with Bingley threatened her influence.”

Darcy’s jaw tightened. “She violated Protocol.”

“And nearly killed us.”

“Then she must be exposed.”

Elizabeth met his gaze. “Together.”

“Yes,” he said. “Together.”

This short story accompanies the Neuro Networks: Disruptors of 2025 digital exhibition. You can find the full exhibition on my LinkedIn profile.