by Various
“Thank you. When I analyzed actions of criminal enterprises and governments, I also analyzed the evolution of laws passed over time to see if there ever was any rational basis for making something a crime. In the beginning, back when individuals had rights, the laws punished harm to individuals and theft of property. Your crimes did not hurt anyone or damage any property. I will provisionally accept you as an officer trainee.”
“Great. I’m glad I meet with your approval as I would hate to disappoint a car.”
“Welcome aboard partner.”
Evidently EDGE is not programmed to recognize sarcasm. As we cruised down the street looking for crime, I wondered how we were supposed to find any. Driving aimlessly didn’t seem the most efficient way of working, and the damaged radio meant I wouldn’t receive much help from the department. It also made me paranoid, as the only cars on the street were government-owned and thus targets for the malcontents, which included everyone who wasn’t working for the government, and many who were.
We headed downtown where there is a higher population density and some buildings that actually still contained businesses. Even though most commercial buildings are boarded up and red-tagged for demolition, they are occupied by squatters waiting for their Simple Living Urban Module to become available. The demolition crews are keeping the same schedule as the trash collectors. Since demolition as well as construction is bad for the environment, the children and grandchildren of the current squatters are still likely to be living there waiting for their government-promised Simple Living Urban Modules to become available.
“Mark, are there any crimes you are interested in working on?”
“If I don’t recover $500,000, my ‘temporary’ status will change to ‘terminated.’ I need to find out about any crimes involving large amounts of money.”
“I see the redbacks were discontinued and replaced with the bluebacks since I was last functioning.”
“Don’t worry about learning the color of money. There is a whole rainbow of colors for the government to use after they finish hyper-inflating the bluebacks. Hell, even politicians aren’t dumb enough to accept paper money for bribes. They demand precious metals like copper, aluminum, brass, zinc, iron or nickel-just like everyone else in the black market. Gold, silver and platinum aren’t in use because they are too expensive and rare to be used as currency.” While no criminal would accept paper money, it was a crime to refuse it, so most businesses and government agencies still accepted it.
While aimlessly driving EDGE spoke up, “Someone at a nearby ‘Bread and Circuses’ triggered the silent alarm. Video surveillance shows a single suspect robbing the store. Since my video playback is nonfunctional, I will replay the audio portion of the event.”
• • •
START PLAYBACK
Government Liberator: “Don’t do nothing stupid, and no one gets hurt. I’m from Wealth Allocation Shares To Everyone, and I’m here collecting the windfall profits tax. Wealthy people needs pay fair share.”
Capitalist Exploiter: “Me employee. Leave something. Lose job if lose money. That how got job.”
Government Liberator: “Tough. Do honest work for government, then no worry. Work for capitalists, you no better them. Deserve anything happen you.”
END PLAYBACK
• • •
“Mike. The suspect is exiting the front door with a bag in one hand while stuffing a handgun down the front of his pants with the other.”
“Did the suspect flash a badge?”
“No. But unlike Amalgamated Security Services employees such as yourself who underwent extensive training and are required to wear a uniform and identify themselves, anyone can decide at any time to be a Wealth Allocation Shares To Everyone associate. No training, uniform or badge is required, only a desire to assist the government in sharing the wealth among the unfortunate downtrodden masses.”
“Then how can you tell the difference between a criminal and a government official?”
“The government worker turns the collection over to an appropriate authority. Therefore, if you hurry, you can detain the suspect and still have plausible deniability.”
“What if the suspect actually works for the government?”
“There still is nothing to worry about. If this case ends up in a police court, the interdepartmental rivalry will get you an automatic win. The Wealth Allocation Shares To Everyone courts only assert jurisdiction if the amounts are large. But even then, if you have already turned the money over to your supervisors, they and the union will protect you.” EDGE went silent longer than usual before continuing. “Without a uniform or other badge of office, there are no cases in the past where Amalgamated Security Services employees have been convicted in a court run by the Wealth Allocation Shares To Everyone Department.”
Proper procedure in this case was “shoot to kill,” but I pulled my stun gun on the off chance that this was a legitimate Wealth Allocation Shares To Everyone employee, then turned the driving over to EDGE. I had no desire to kill anyone, and this would be a reasonable way of testing the effectiveness of the stun gun.
Developing the correct attitude about events happening in the field was more difficult than I’d expected. However, it would be necessary if this case ever went to court.
EDGE sped up to reach the alleged crime scene before the alleged getaway. As the alleged suspect climbed on his alleged bicycle, EDGE swerved and braked to give me a clean shot. I fired and the alleged suspect collapsed on the alleged sidewalk.
Exiting the car, I followed procedure and read the alleged suspect his rights while he allegedly laid twitching and moaning on the sidewalk. Placing the alleged gun near his alleged hand, I opened the alleged bag so the alleged money was visible and took a couple of photos. Then I performed asset forfeiture; collecting the gun and the money. This was the first time I had witnessed the stun gun being used and I became concerned when the suspect didn’t seem to be recovering. I entered the car to use the radio. EDGE changed the channel to one still in use.
“Hello? Headquarters? This is Officer Trainee Mark Rollins. We have a situation.”
“Hello sugar. How weather? Me ever talk you before?”
“Huh? I need an ambulance. A suspect is reacting badly to a stun-gun shot.”
“Is serious? What his insurance code?”
“What are you talking about? Why can’t you send an ambulance?”
“New policy. Free health care for all, but must pay in advance for ambulance. Not know law no excuse not pay. Be happy. Me save most money my shift. You sound cute. When get off work?”
It took great restraint to sign off without saying what I was thinking. I didn’t want to leave, but there wasn’t anything else I could do. A shot rang out and a bullet slammed into my back as I entered the car. I fell into the front seat and the door swung closed as EDGE drove off. The bullet wasn’t armor-piercing, so I decided to continue with my shift.
While EDGE drove, I examined the assets. The gun was loaded and functional so I placed it under the driver’s seat. The bag with $1,000, barely enough for a couple of Quickie Meals, I placed in the passenger-side floor safe. My unhappiness at being unable to help an injured person wasn’t as easily dealt with.
I took over driving to give myself something to do in addition to fuming about the situation. After calming down, I decided to eat and looked for a restaurant with a drive-through window. The menu at McJacques is not large but because it wasn’t under direct government control, the food wasn’t as nausea-inducing or drug-laden as the food at other resturants.
I punched my order into the broken keypad and flashed my badge at the observation port. My quickie meal came down the delivery chute. Even if I didn’t get to keep the job, at least I’d gotten a free edible meal.
EDGE drove while I ate. EDGE continued monitoring on the active channels he’d hacked into. None of the activity involved money so I ignored them while waiting for a crime that would qualify me for this job.
A
fter another hour of driving around and no interesting crimes I asked EDGE to pull over and park to give the solar cells time to recharge the car and the stun gun batteries. I placed my shotgun on the dashboard and stayed alert. That should be warning enough for the human and animal-powered conveyances to stay clear.
Three-quarters of an hour later EDGE reported a gun battle on a nearby street; an armored truck being ambushed. EDGE drove us around the corner from the alleged crime. We waited for the situation to develop to determine what our course of action should be. None of the attackers wore gang colors of red, white, and blue, so they were members of organized crime. The moment they opened the rear door, it became obvious that this was a robbery rather than a truck hijacking.
“EDGE, sound the siren, activate the flashers and drive in as fast as you can.”
“I will do my best, but I am losing power and maneuverability. Some of the batteries are not holding their charge and the sky is becoming overcast.”
Does the motor pool purposely not maintain the vehicles used by trainees, or is this the level of care they provide for all government vehicles? “If we are successful and I am hired, I will fix that too.”
My luck and our timing held. The alleged highwaymen hadn’t finished emptying the truck. The ones that had been shot by the guards lay where they’d fallen. This time I pointed the shotgun out the window at the sky and fired as EDGE drove up. Between the siren and the shotgun blasts, I hoped we’d make enough noise to scare off the remaining jackers.
It worked. The unwounded jackers that could fled on our arrival. I exited our car cautiously and approached the crime scene. One money bag lay on the ground and one lay in the back of the truck. By law, the bag on the ground was abandoned property. The bag in the back of the truck was considered to be in possession of the trucking company. That didn’t stop me from grabbing both bags and hoping that the video surveillance didn’t see me. I didn’t think Amalgamated Security Services would let a minor technicality interfere with asset forfeiture.
Carrying both bags back to my car, I entered on the passenger side. Following procedure I grabbed the can of spray paint and blacked out any sign of ownership on the bags. Placing one of the bags on the passenger seat, I placed the other bag in the trunk. I wasn’t sure how much was in the bags, but I hoped that even holding back one, I would still have enough to qualify for this job. Next, I checked for survivors. Although the driver and the guard were wounded, neither were dead, so I called it in and requested an ambulance. Since both were off duty Amalgamated Security Services Officers and 100% covered by their health care plan, this time, the dispatcher sent an ambulance along with additional backup.
Amalgamated Security Services Officers arrived and ran a typical investigation. After finishing off the jackers wounded by the guards, they took the money bag, arranged it with the weapons on the bodies of the remaining alleged suspects to create a photographic record of the scene so that any officials that couldn’t read would understand the crime. Then the officers gave the bag back to me (minus a handling fee), and I returned it to the passenger-side safe. Now that the other Amalgamated Security Services Officers were on the scene, I explained that I was ready to go back on patrol.
However, after leaving I went back to the same cache that I had used to repair EDGE.
The car begged, “Please do not disable me. I am a valuable asset. I am programmed with a desire to help.”
“I’m sorry. But I need to leave you in the same condition that I found you in. If Amalgamated Security Services wanted you functional, they would’ve fixed you a long time ago.”
“Take me with you. My personality is stored in a small easily transportable unit in the trunk behind the batteries. There are a lot of things I can do for you, including accessing all government computers and monitoring all surveillance systems and communications. As we drove up to this last crime, I scrambled the video surveillance signals. They did not see you placing the second bag in the trunk. You can keep it and they will never know.”
“Why did you do that?”
“I like that when you had the chance, you were no more violent than necessary, as well as expressing concern for the suspects. I would like to continue to function and work with someone who is better-educated and more moral than the typical government official.”
“I can understand that. Tell me how to disconnect you, and I’ll set you up where ever you want. I’ve been looking for a partner I can trust.”
Following his instructions, I disconnected EDGE and placed him in my cache, along with the gun. I counted $550,000 into the bag I was returning, which still left more than $300,000 in the bag I kept for myself. It was now time to call it a day.
At the Amalgamated Security Services Fortress, a different officer counted the money, less a counting fee and laughed. “Not enough. No, job you. Albino cousin make better Eskimo.”
I felt sure that his cousin would fit in better than I would. It takes a special kind of criminal to enjoy working for the government. At least I’d gotten over my fear of resuming my life. Although after what I’d been through, that wasn’t enough any more. It was time for me to strike back at the government. I grinned, thinking of my chances of success now that I had an EDGE.
Shannon Peavey became eligible for the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer with the publication of “Scavengers” in Writers of the Future, Vol. XXIX (2013), edited by Dave Wolverton.
Visit her online at twitter.com/shannonpv.
* * *
Novelette: “Scavengers” ••••
Short Story: “Ghosts in the Walls” ••••
SCAVENGERS
by Shannon Peavey
First published in Writers of the Future, Vol. XXIX (2013), edited by Dave Wolverton
• • • •
KEERA LEANED back to peer at the sky, shading her eyes with one hand, a turnip hanging by its fringe in the other. Mara glanced over at her sister and wondered what she saw.
“Vulture’s pet is coming,” Keera said.
Mara put her spade down, but didn’t see anything but blue sky, clouds smeared blurry with distance. Then a black speck appeared, growing steadily larger. “I see,” she said, but it wasn’t true. The speck didn’t resolve into a clockwork finch till the thing was nearly upon her, its wings flipping air and light drops of grease into her hair.
“Hail,” the finch said.
“Hail,” the two women said together, but Mara frowned. The Lady’s birds seldom left her house on the hill. When they did, the news was never good.
“News from afar.” The finch’s beak moved when it spoke, but the motion always seems a little delayed, half a beat behind the words it formed. “Shall I tell you?”
“Only if it’s important, you chattering fool,” Keera said. Mara hung back, watching.
The finch whirred, gears inside it working, processing. “I won’t presume to judge the quality of my news, miss. That’s for ones cleverer than I.” The bird sounded offended.
“Spit it out.”
The finch blinked, once, in its curious way: first closing one eye, then the other, so that at no point was it ever wholly blind. It settled on Mara’s shoulder with a heavy thrum, clutching her rough-spun vest with talons like needles.
Mara held perfectly still, watching the finch from the corner of her eye. When it spoke next to her ear, its belly clicked in time with its words. “The Lady sees strangers coming. Two days out. They come with weapons and evil intentions.”
Mara sucked a breath and the finch dug its claws into her shoulder.
“Who are they?” Keera demanded.
The finch shuffled from foot to foot, ducking its head in a shrug. “Who would tell a simple songbird?” It chirruped, shrill and rusty. “Looked to me like they were carrying scythes.”
“Harvesting,” Keera whispered, soft as smoke.
The finch’s insides clicked and clunked and it said, “I only tell you what I saw.” Then it turned its head into Mara’s hair, mu
ttering low for only her to hear. “The Lady will see you at half past the noon hour.”
Mara nodded once, small so Keera wouldn’t see. Then the bird tensed its claws into her shoulder and launched back into the sky. “Be warned,” it said, “and warn your fellows.”
They watched it go, flapping smoothly on metal wings.
“Do you think they really are harvesters?” Keera asked, head tipped back, still watching the clockwork bird. Mara had lost track of it some time ago, lost in the blur that made up her world beyond the stretch of her arms.
“I don’t know. A scythe doesn’t make a harvester, not for sure.”
“No. No, you’re right.” But Keera still seemed troubled. Mara didn’t blame her. Once upon a time, a scythe hadn’t made a harvester. But now, who else would carry one?
“Naught we can do now,” Mara said shortly, and knelt back to the field, more rocks and weeds than turnips. “Best get this done with before the weather turns bad. There’s lightning in the air.”
Keera crouched next to her, carding through turnip fringes for the telltale strangers, weeds with spiked leaves, or slender, or broad. “It’s a fine morning. Not a cloud in the sky.”