His uniform was at twenty-two degrees, so the chilly air outside would not discomfort him in any way. Walking out, he put on the police issued tactical glasses and the earpiece—his SI link. The police vehicle waited outside; the light-blue, two wheeled single-passenger car glowed in the pre-dawn sky. Black “Techno District Police Department. Comfort and Safety.” shields were prominently displayed on its sides.
“Three superfluous dreams were removed by your REM scrubber overnight. Temperature is eleven Celsius; sunrise will occur at 07:05; sky is clear; humidity is fifty-seven percent. This is what may be referred to as a standard October morning,” the SI said through the ear piece. “Traffic is very light. Would you like to drive?”
“Yes,” Jake said, grabbing the joystick on the center console.
“ETA to police station: twenty-two minutes, plus-minus three minutes human variance,” the SI said.
* * *
The police commissioner’s haunted, worried expression told Jake that the situation was serious—before his SI interpreted it for him.
“Sit!” said the old man, his hands shaking on his desk.
Jake waited the split second needed for the commissioner’s SI and his own to exchange information such as blood pressure, frontal lobe activity, body temperature, heart-rate, and pupil dilation.
“The commissioner asks that you please sit down,” Jake’s SI said.
“Afraid! Big trouble! Kidnapping! Primitive scum! Need fix now! Before public!” The old man went on, but the SI’s didn’t take long before putting the bits of information into a coherent message.
“The commissioner says that a kidnapping has taken place. The victim’s SI was found in the habitat, lying on the floor. It reported that the security system did not detect the intruder, and it had no other useful information about the crime. He orders that you solve the case in a timely fashion to prevent panic,” Jake’s SI said.
More mumbling came out of the commissioner’s mouth, and he only stopped to swallow a pill.
“The commissioner wants you to inspect the victim’s habitat, report back, and then proceed to the Primitive Zone to gather additional information.”
Jake’s uniform dropped two degrees to compensate for his sudden temperature increase.
“Primitive Zone? Alone? Why me yes? Why shock team no?” The horror in Jake’s face did not escape the old man, nor did it lessen his plight.
“The commissioner replies that this does not appear to be a common criminal from the Primitive Zone. The data gathered so far points to somebody with very strong technical knowledge, enough to disable a habitat’s security system without the SI knowing.”
Then, when Jake feared the worst, the SI stated it clearly for him. “It is suspected that the criminal belongs to Techno District. It could be one of us. That is why you must go alone, without the support of a shock team. You must blend in with the locals to collect information. Rescuing the victim is a low priority that can be carried out by the shock team once your information is processed. You must go now.”
* * *
“I detect you require nourishment. Shall I stop at your preferred sustenance provider?” The SI asked. It was driving now.
“Yes,” responded Jake, still shaken. His orders would place him in harm’s way, and although trained for that type of situation, every cop hoped he would never have to cross into the Primitive Zone.
The food dealer attendant wasn’t as highly educated as Jake. Even though the SI’s did their best to translate her thoughts into meaningful sentences, some information just wasn’t there and the SI’s had to extrapolate.
“Eat you here?” the young girl asked.
“She inquires if you would like to consume your nourishment at this establishment, or if you would prefer to take it with you instead,” Jake’s SI translated.
“Here!” Jake said. He was still nervous when the chemically balanced sea algae arrived a few minutes later; the pill the SI suggested he took hadn’t kicked in yet. Like it or not, he would have to leave the safety of Techno District and venture into primitive turf. He was a sworn law enforcement officer and it was his duty to risk his life when necessary.
* * *
The SI stopped the police vehicle by the wall, and Jake picked up his shocker from the trunk. He tried to remember the last time he fired it—seemed ages ago. But then again, it was uncommon to recall information that could not be put to immediate use. His SI promptly reminded him that he had last fired his shocker in the shooting range seven days ago.
Even though the sun had climbed high by now, the imposing wall still cast a long shadow. It was sensibly cooler, and Jake’s torn clothes—his camouflage—did not provide him any comfort.
The cop at the gate saluted him. “Careful Sir beyond. Activity recent,” he warned.
“He says that you must be careful beyond the wall,” the SI clarified. “There has been primitive activity recently, possibly even wall breaches. He does not understand how they do it, but he suspects the primitives find ways in.”
Jake checked his tactical glasses; there were no primitives in the vicinity. The SI traced a path as far away from the bigger concentration of huts as possible, to keep him safe from ambush. Shock teams had reported such tactics attempted upon them during their last raid of the Primitive Zone.
When he heard the loud “clunk” of the gates closing behind him, his hair stood on end. Hardening his grip on the shocker’s handle, he walked at a slow, careful pace, that took him through a forest, a field of broken and turned over earth, and a pasture dotted with grazing, four-legged animals in the distance. The SI kept him far enough from them, and provided no information about their nature.
Hours later he came across a strange object in the middle of a dirt road. No signs of life detected, he went down on one knee to examine it closely. “It is a toy,” the SI said, “made to resemble an extinct animal known as bear.”
Jake wondered what use a toy could have, when a red dot flashed on his glasses. Someone was approaching from a hut a hundred yards away.
Instinctively, he pointed his shocker at the figure, finger on the trigger. The girl came running and picked up the teddy bear. “It’s Betty’s bear! I’ve found it! But where’s she? Did they take her too?” she cried, looking at Jake. He could not remember ever seeing anything like it. Dressed in rags, the little creature expressed a range of emotions unknown to him. His camouflage was working though; the ragamuffin thought Jake was her kind.
“She says it is a toy, as I have informed you before,” the SI said. Jake didn’t realize he had lowered his shocker to the ground. When he picked up the toy to give it to the girl, it felt fluffy to the touch. She hugged it, said “Thank you,” and ran back to the hut.
Suddenly his glasses went wild. “Alert! Alert! Alert!” flashed across them, as the SI screamed the words into his ear. Multiple red dots peppered the glasses, and they were moving fast. Towards Jake. Rough-looking figures rushed at him from all directions.
They were not children.
“Stop! Police! Shoot!” Jake screamed.
The primitives kept coming.
Jake pointed his shocker at the foremost man—who had a long metal bar in his hands—and pressed the trigger. The electrical discharge engulfed him and he fell to the ground, convulsing violently.
“Behind you! Fire!” the SI cried into his ear. Jake turned around and shocked a crazed man who was about to throw a brick at him.
Five more attackers lay knocked out on the dirt, but Jake couldn’t stop the swarm. From all sides, the primitives pounced him; they ripped the shocker from his hands and kicked him in the stomach. When he assumed a fetal position, trying to breathe, he thought he heard someone yell, “Stop! Don’t kill him!” but the SI didn’t say anything, so he assumed he had just imagined it. Somebody hit his head with a stick, and then there was only darkness.
* * *
Jake’s head hurt. He could not remember ever experiencing that much pain before.
&nb
sp; “Time?” he asked. No response.
“Time!” he repeated. Still no answer from his SI.
Upset because of the lack of information, he opened his eyes and found himself in a strange place; this was definitely not his habitat in Techno District. The sun was shining through the open window and the bright colors in the room hurt his eyes. How could the SI allow such discomfort? And what about his killer headache? What was going on?
“Are you alright?” a man said.
Jake heard the man, but he couldn’t focus. He waited for the SI’s soothing voice to feed him the information.
“There’s no SI here, you have to listen to what I’m saying,” the man said.
Jake finally looked up. The man was standing near his cot, and he wasn’t alone. There were other people in the room, but they looked different than him. Dressed in scraps, the rugged primitives were in sharp contrast to the man wearing Techno District garments.
“I’m Tom Taddock,” he said. “You’ve been in an out of consciousness for days. No wonder, after the beating you took. You’re lucky to be alive!” Tom waited for a reply, but Jake just looked at him, slack-mouthed and blinking rapidly.
“What’s your name?” Tom asked.
Jake heard the words, but had a hard time making a connection. He touched his ears, but the SI wasn’t there. And he did not have his tactical glasses either.
“What’s your name?” Tom insisted. “I know you can hear me, you must listen also! Speak!”
“I-I-I…Jake!”
“Good! Are you a cop?” Tom asked.
“Det-ective.”
Suddenly, there was panic.
“I knew it!” said a nervous woman who was standing behind Tom. “Those bastards are up to something! When’s the last time they sent a detective here? They want to steal the rest of the children!”
“Please, Monica, let me handle this,” Tom said, placing his hands on her shoulders.
“Jake, why are you here?” he asked.
Although Jake felt just like a deaf man, he realized that he could understand Tom, even without his SI. These people seemed to speak as articulately as the social interfaces.
“Kidnap!” Jake replied.
“Well,” Tom said, “looks like you’ve found what you were looking for. Here she is! Meet Monica, my wife.”
* * *
Juicy roasts and potatoes; bread and butter; milk and eggs—he tasted them all. The primitives treated Jake as if he was one of them. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Jake’s repressed social skills rekindled. Slowly at first, until eventually… The lack of behavioral drugs and chemically balanced foods helped him get back his memories. The caring, sharing life of the primitives helped him get back his humanity.
He remembered who he was. He remembered who he loved.
Like every night, Jake was invited to share a meal with Monica, Tom, and their neighbors. The clear February sky was full of stars, and although it was chilly, Jake was filled with warmth, and not just because of the bonfire; the people around him expressed their emotions in ways he had forgotten.
“How long?” he asked Tom.
“Hard to say exactly,” Tom said, looking deep into the embers. “Ten, fifteen years at the very least; maybe more. I know the Council keeps records somewhere, but in my haste to escape I didn’t have time to find them. I doubt any one individual in the Council knows exactly how long this has been going on. Perhaps only the SI’s know, but they won’t volunteer that information easily.”
Jake’s gaze was also lost in the dancing flames. “Who created Techno District?” he said, still peering into the primeval, comforting fire.
“We don’t know,” Monica said. We just can’t remember that far back. We’re suffering the effects of those REM scrubbers messing with our heads every night. The drugs may have also caused irreparable damage to our long term memories. We can’t remember any more than you do, and most people here are young and uneducated. Their parents are long dead. We suspect whoever doesn’t adapt well to the scrubbers and the behavioral drugs is either eliminated or tossed over the wall, like garbage.”
“Tossed over the wall but not forgotten,” Tom said angrily. “You see, the shock teams have raided this and other villages before. They’ve taken away children. That’s why you were attacked so viciously when you showed up. Besides, not everyone outside the wall is civilized.”
“But, who’s in charge of the shock teams?” Jake asked.
“The SI’s and the Council,” Tom said, “In that order. All human interaction is carried out by the SI’s. The ‘interpretations’ they provide are carefully crafted to serve their own interests. They are the real rulers. And they want things to remain that way.”
Jake calculated he was older than thirty, and he had spent a good portion of his life as a SI-governed quasi-zombie. He despised Techno District because he remembered that he, too, had a wife. And he remembered that he had something—-someone—else too.
And he loathed Techno District even more.
“So now you see,” Tom said. “I had to do it. I couldn’t tolerate being free, while my wife was still living in shackles.”
“I understand,” Jake said. “Was it hard to get your memories back?”
“I used to work for the Council, so I knew a lot about the drugs. I thought that if I started to decrease my own dose gradually, the SI’s wouldn’t notice. Perhaps I’m one of the few who don’t react well to the control drugs in the first place…I don’t know and I don’t care. I had to tamper with my SI, to prevent it from reporting me of course, but eventually, I was as sharp as you are now. Then, when I was ready, I escaped with Monica.”
“That explains the SI not registering anything,” Jake said.
“Yes. I’ve built some of those SI’s. I know how they work.”
“What are you going to do with me?” asked Jake.
“You’re free to do as you please,” Tom said. “But I’m begging you, help us. We must rescue the children that the shock teams took from this village. And I want my daughter! She was born seven months ago. She’s in the nursery, or ‘Origin’ as it’s called, with the other babies. Their parents forget about them within days of their birth. Actually, only their mothers get to forget; they are artificially inseminated. Only we, older people, know and remember human relationships. Only we, who must have been there in the beginning, have wives and husbands…even if we don’t remember them.” Tom sounded melancholic. “But I digress,” he said, sharpening his stare. “We need you to get us police uniforms—as many as you can. We’ll infiltrate the city and bring back the children, and as many babies from the Origin as we can.”
“I’ll do it!” Jake vowed. “Getting uniforms won’t be too hard. The difficulty lies in explaining my long absence to my superiors. Despite his lack social of skills, the commissioner is not stupid…and his SI is very powerful. It’ll be hard to convince them.”
“Here. Take these,” Tom said as he gave Jake a few white pills. “They’ll toughen your defenses against the memory inhibitors. If you get caught, they might just give you a fighting chance.”
The primitives guided Jake back to the wall. His modified SI would not report his absent levels of behavioral drugs. Jake approached a gate, identified himself, and entered Techno District.
* * *
Taking more pills than his SI recommended the commissioner was a ball of nerves. Since his top detective’s disappearance had been made public, everybody in Techno District was on edge. And now that Jake was back in the old man’s office, his explanation about him being attacked by primitives and left for dead by the wall did not help to calm him down one bit. He was suspicious.
The commissioner’s SI articulated his thoughts perfectly.
“Detective Talbot, how did you survive for so long without chemically balanced food? And what about your pills? I understand that your SI has provided a full report, but it seems very improbable, given the circumstances.”
“Improbabl
e very! Shock team!” the commissioner ordered.
Within seconds, the four armed men entered the office and apprehended Jake. They took him to the hospital for examination. He was determined to be dangerously imbalanced.
So they subjected him to the REM scrubber and an enhanced treatment of behavioral drugs—making sure only unwanted memories were erased.
Forty-eight hours later Jake was issued a brand-new SI. His chemically balanced blood samples gave him a clean bill of health. Or, as his SI put it, “Detective Talbot is fit for duty.”
Jake no longer had conflict in him. He was, as a Techno District Police Detective, fully committed to the safety and comfort of all individuals.
And he possessed vital information about the primitives.
Intending to use Tom’s baby as bait, he assembled his shock team and headed to the Origin.
A quiet place it was, the Origin. Robots cared for hundreds of chemically balanced babies, who, comforted by their SI’s, stayed perfectly still in their cradles.
Jake was grimly determined to carry out his mission, so he proceeded to find Unnamed Taddock. His shock team followed. The baby girl looked no different than the others, except for the one thing in the cradle with her.
A furry object. Had he seen it before? He was puzzled for a moment.
“This what?” Jake demanded from the robotic attendant.
“Instructions from Unnamed Taddock’s father, sir. There is no regulation against it, so it was allowed.”
A teddy bear! Yes, that’s it! Why is this object familiar? Jake thought. Recent memories surged. Memories of people sharing a meal around a bonfire, under a starry night; of children running around freely; of singing and laughter.
“Detective Talbot, I suggest you take a pill,” his SI said.
Once again, there was conflict in him. He had a mission to accomplish, but his mind was in turmoil.
“Detective Talbot, I strongly suggest you take a pill now. Do you require assistance from your team?” his SI repeated in a stronger voice.
Jake bowed his head, closed his eyes and pressed his temples hard, trying to make sense of the feral thoughts running rampant in his mind, threatening to burst his brain. He shook his head as if he could somehow tame them into something comfortable, something safe. When he suddenly opened his eyes he was looking at the cradle next to Taddock’s. He read the name tag.
Kzine Issue 14 Page 6