Eastern Standard Tribe

by Cory Doctorow

do this?'

  "And the cop smiled and said, 'You're absolutely right, little girl. That'senough of that.' The Sony cop didn't pay any attention. He grabbed my head andstuffed it into the hood and tried to get the chin strap in place. I shook myhead as best as I could, and then the hood was being taken off my head again,and the Sony cop looked like he wanted to nail the other cop, but he didn't. Thedesk sergeant bent down and cut my straps, then helped me to my feet.

  "'You're not going to give me any trouble, are you?' he said, as he led mearound to a nice, ergo office chair.

  "'No sir!'

  "'You just sit there, then, and I'll be with you in a moment.'

  "I sat down and rubbed my wrists and ankles. My left ankle was oozing blood fromwhere it had been rubbed raw. I couldn't believe that the Sony Family couldinflict such indignities on my cute little person. I was so goddamnself-righteous, and I know I was smirking as the desk sergeant chewed out theSony cop, taking down his badge number and so on so that I'd have it.

  "I thanked the cop profusely, and I kept on thanking him as he booked me andprinted me and took my mug shots. I was joking and maybe even flirting a little.I was a cute fifteen-year-old and I knew it. After the nastiness with the Sonycops, being processed into the criminal justice system seemed mild andinoffensive. It didn't really occur to me that I was being *arrested* until mygood pal the cop asked me to turn out my pockets before he put me in the cell.

  "'Wait!' I said. 'Sergeant Lorenzi, wait! You don't have to put me in a *cell*,do you, Sergeant Lorenzi? Sergeant Lorenzi! I don't need to go into a cell! Letme call my mom, she'll come down and drop the charges, and I can wait here. I'llhelp out. I can get coffee. Sergeant Lorenzi!'

  "For a second, it looked like he was going to go through with it. Then herelented and I spent the next couple hours fetching and filing and even runningout for coffee -- that's how much he trusted me -- while we waited for Mom toshow up. I was actually feeling pretty good about it by the time she arrived. Ofcourse, that didn't last too long.

  "She came through the door like Yosemite Sam, frothing at the chops and howlingfor my blood. She wanted to press charges, see me locked up to teach me alesson. She didn't care how the Sony cops had gassed and trussed me -- as far asshe was concerned, I'd betrayed her and nothing was going to make it right. Shekept howling for the sergeant to give her the papers to sign, she wanted toswear out a complaint, and he just let her run out of steam, his face perfectlyexpressionless until she was done.

  "'All right then, Mrs. Walchuk, all right. You swear out the complaint, andwe'll hold her overnight until her bail hearing. We only got the one holdingcell, though, you understand. No juvenile facility. Rough crowd. A couple ofbiowar enthusiasts in there right now, caught 'em trying to thrax a busterminal; a girl who killed her pimp and nailed his privates to the door of hishotel room before she took off; a couple of hard old drunks. No telling whatelse will come in today. We take away their knives and boots and purses, butthose girls like to mess up fresh young things, scar them with the bars or theirnails. We can't watch them all the time.' He was leaning right across the deskat my mom, cold and still, and then he nudged my foot with his foot and I knewthat he was yanking her chain.

  "'Is that what you want, then, ma'am?'

  "Mom looked like she wanted to tell him yes, go ahead, call his bluff, but hewas too good at it. She broke. 'No, it's not,' she said. 'I'll take her home anddeal with her there.'

  "'That's fundamentally sound,' he said. 'And Linda, you give me a call if youwant to file a complaint against Sony. We have secam footage of the Boardwalkand the Station House if you need it, and I have that guy's badge ID, too.'

  "Mom looked alarmed, and I held out my raw, bruisey wrists to her. 'They gassedme before they took me in.'

  "'Did you run? You *never* run from the cops, Linda, you should have knownbetter --'

  "I didn't run. I put my arms in the air and they gassed me and tied me up andtook me in.'

  "'That can't be, Linda. You must have done *something* --' Mom always was readyto believe that I deserved whatever trouble I got into. She was the only one whodidn't care how cute I was.

  "'No mom. I put my hands in the air. I surrendered. They got me anyway. Theydidn't care. It'll be on the tape. I'll get it from sergeant Lorenzi when I filemy complaint.'

  "'You'll do no such thing. You stole a car, you endangered lives, and now youwant to go sniveling to the authorities because Sony played a little rough whenthey brought you in? You committed a *criminal act*, Linda. You got treated likea criminal.'

  "I wanted to smack her. I knew that this was really about not embarrassing herin front of the Sony Family, the nosy chattery ladies with the other franchisesthat Mom competed against for whuffie and bragging rights. But I'd learnedsomething about drawing flies with honey that afternoon. The Sergeant could havemade things very hard on me, but by giving him a little sugar, I turned it intoan almost fun afternoon.

  "Mom took me home and screamed herself raw, and I played it all very contrite,then walked over to the minimall so that I could buy some saline solution for myeyes, which were still as red as stoplights. We never spoke of it again, and onmy sixteenth birthday, Mom gave me the keys to a Veddic Series 8, and the firstthing I did was download new firmware for the antitheft transponder that killedit. Two months later, it was stolen. I haven't driven a Sony since."

  Linda smiles and then purses her lips. "Unrehearsed enough?"

  Art shakes his head. "Wow. What a story."

  "Do you want to kiss me now?" Linda says, conversationally.

  "I believe I do," Art says, and he does.

  Linda pulls the back of his head to hers with one arm, and with the other, shehalf-shrugs out of her robe. Art pulls his shirt up to his armpits, feels thescorching softness of her chest on his, and groans. His erection grinds into hermons through his Jockey shorts, and he groans again as she sucks his tongue intoher mouth and masticates it just shy of hard enough to hurt.

  She breaks off and reaches down for the waistband of his Jockeys and his wholebody arches in anticipation.

  Then his comm rings.

  Again.

  "Fuck!" Art says, just as Linda says, "Shit!" and they both snort a laugh. Lindapulls his hand to her nipple again and Art shivers, sighs, and reaches for hiscomm, which won't stop ringing.

  "It's me," Fede says.

  "Jesus, Fede. What *is it*?"

  "What is it? Art, you haven't been to the office for more than four hours in aweek. It's going on noon, and you still aren't here." Fede's voice is hot andunreasoning.

  Art feels his own temper rise in response. Where the hell did Fede get off,anyway? "So fucking *what*, Fede? I don't actually work for you, you know. I'vebeen taking care of stuff offsite."

  "Oh, sure. Art, if you get in trouble, I'll get in trouble, and you know*exactly* what I mean."

  "I'm not *in* trouble, Fede. I'm taking the day off -- why don't you call metomorrow?"

  "What the hell does that mean? You can't just 'take the day off.' I *wrote* thegoddamned procedure. You have to fill in the form and get it signed by yoursupervisor. It needs to be *documented*. Are you *trying* to undermine me?"

  "You are so goddamned *paranoid*, Federico. I got mugged last night, all right?I've been in a police station for the past eighteen hours straight. I am goingto take a shower and I am going to take a nap and I am going to get a massage,and I am *not* going into the office and I am *not* going to fill in any forms.This is not about you."

  Fede pauses for a moment, and Art senses him marshalling his bad temper foranother salvo. "I don't give a shit, Art. If you're not coming into the office,you tell me, you hear? The VP of HR is going berserk, and I know exactly whatit's about. He is on to us, you hear me? Every day that you're away and I'mcovering for your ass, he gets more and more certain. If you keep this shit up,we're both dead."

  "Hey, fuck you, Fede." Art is surprised to hear the words coming out of hismouth, but once they're out, he decides to go with them. "You can indulge
yourparanoid fantasies to your heart's content, but don't drag me into them. I gotmugged last night. I had a near-fatal car crash a week ago. If the VP of HRwants to find out why I haven't been in the office, he can send me an email andI'll tell him exactly what's going on, and if he doesn't like it, he can toss mygoddamned salad. But I don't report to you. If you want to have a discussion,you call me and act like a human goddamned being. Tomorrow. Good-bye,