2100 AD: A Sly Pretense

by Tariq Saleim

  The doctor nodded, fully assimilating the facts being shared by the Commander.

  “When we arrested this man he was in possession of religious materials—not only for one religion but several. He possessed literature in several languages. He also had a collection of flags for countries from the era of savagery. It baffles us; despite our best efforts these nuisances have survived more than four decades. We believe there is an organized group behind this, and that is why we must find his companions and take possession of all the material they hold.

  “They want to divide us again. They wish to spread their religion, talk about their cultures. They want to go back to the chaos that we have controlled with much difficulty. We must crush them.” The Commander pumped his fist in the air.

  “Yes, we must,” said Coco, with genuine conviction.

  “You do not like my ways of interrogation, but these yield results. I am willing to go to any lengths for the greater good of humanity. When I joined Militia, I swore to protect the system at all costs. If it was my own son I would have treated him the same way. No child in the UPF is ever going to lose his parents or siblings to savagery again. I am going to crush every head that rises against us with my bare hands.” The Commander was looking at his hands and gesturing as if crushing someone’s head with his hands.

  It was clear to Coco that the matter was not entirely professional, but rather personal. His emotional wounds were still fresh and hurting. It was obvious that he held religion and culture responsible for the tragic loss of his family. He was not fighting one person or a body of people; he was fighting an ideology, a social setup that had hurt him. He was out to avenge the wrong done to him and family.

  “How far are you willing to go?” the Commander asked.

  “What do you want me to do?” replied the doctor.

  “I want you to befriend this man. Try to convince him of the merits of our system. Explain to him that we will take care of him if he helps us in capturing members of his rebel group. Tell him we mean well for everyone, including him.”

  “Why would he talk to me? Why would he trust me?”

  “Because you are a kind woman, and he is a man in trouble. You did not notice the way he looked at you, but I did. He saw hope in you. There is definitely something there.”

  Coco decided not to speak further on the subject. It did not matter if the Commander was right or wrong; she had no choice anyway. She had to follow orders and her orders were very clear.

  “I will try my best, sir,” said Coco.

  “That is what we expect from you after what the system has done for you. You can go now.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  She went straight to the medical room to check on Nile. A team of doctors was attending to him. He was in good hands, for now. She watched silently from a distance, unsure of her next steps. Nile would start recovering in a day or two and that is when she would be expected to start her work. Until then, she had time to plan.

  She stepped out of the medical room and walked to the cafeteria. It was almost lunchtime and the place was full of uniformed men and woman. They were chatting, laughing, and looked happy. There were no signs of work-related stress. They took their jobs in stride and followed their orders without questioning. I have to do the same, she reminded herself. The Commander is right. It is our duty to protect the system that delivers such good results.

  “One latte, please,” she ordered the young cadet behind the counter.

  “Not having lunch, Doctor?” the cadet replied politely while punching her order.

  “Later.”

  She grabbed her coffee and looked around for an empty table. Upon finding none, she decided to walk back to the medical center and have her coffee on the way. She was in no mood to strike up a conversation with anyone. She faced a dilemma and wanted to avoid interaction until she had found a solution. There was something inherently wrong in what was being asked of her. She was a doctor, not a spy. There are other doctors on the team, why am I being forced? Why would someone do something illegal in the first place? What kind of a stupid person is Nile? He is brave, though, and strong and…What the hell? Why are you fantasizing about a criminal? Have you completely lost it? She quickly snapped out of her stupor.

  CHAPTER 2

  Sector 3, Sub-Sector 1 (formerly known as New York City, United States of America)

  “This is a long queue,” Spike said disapprovingly.

  “We should not have waited until Friday; the whole bloody town parties today,” replied Hawk, standing next to him in the queue.

  “Well, at least the crowd is good.” Spike pointed to a girl standing a few spots ahead of them.

  “She is good, I agree.”

  “And wasted already. I do not know why she is here.”

  “She is here for more—more drugs, more fun, more sex. What else?” explained Hawk.

  “Don’t you think this crowd is getting younger and younger?”

  “I am not sure. Legal age for buying drugs is still fourteen; it was always fourteen.”

  “Did we look this young when we started coming here?”

  “Yes, my dear Spike, we were.”

  “Look at her—what is she even wearing?” Spike pointed at another girl who was wearing a short see-through dress.

  “Nothing that I cannot take off in two seconds flat,” replied Hawk, eyeing the girl and undressing her in his head.

  “How is your girlfriend?” Spike unexpectedly changed the subject. Hawk was amused at the derisive timing of the question. Spike had a way of attacking his love life.

  “She is OK. We talk on the phone once or twice a week, but I have not seen her for a while. Since she got a job with Militia, I hardly get to meet her,” replied Hawk.

  “You should dump her; she is a boring girl.”

  “You are a crazy bastard. Why should I dump her? She is a good girl, makes an honest living, works hard—why the hell should I dump her?”

  “Because she is never there for you. You are always alone. When was the last time you had any action with her? If it was not for my parties you would be all to yourself.” Spike was making fun of his friend’s sex life.

  “Get lost—I love her and I am going to marry her,” replied Hawk in mock anger. “And while we are on the subject, where is your girlfriend these days? I have not seen you with her for a long time.”

  “She is traveling; been busy. She is a big star; comes with the job.”

  “She is not a big star, she is a porn star, you dumbass.”

  “She is a star, my friend. She does three movies a year and makes millions. She is a brand ambassador for a dozen products. She is hot and I am lucky that she still fancies me.” Spike quickly counted his blessings.

  “You are so fucked up in your head. She sleeps with men for money in front of cameras. Her porn movies are sold to billions every year. How can you go out with a woman like that?” Hawk was unable to understand his friend’s point of view.

  Spike smiled at him and shook his head. “She is better than your boring girl, who works fourteen hours a day and makes shit money. You work long hours too, but at least you make more money in the financial industry. Still, both of you don’t have time for each other. When you get married, what will you do? Sleep with each other’s picture? Talk on the phone, once or twice a week? My girl is good and I love her.” Spike was adamant.

  Hawk smiled back at his friend. He was head over heels in love with a porn star and there was no way to convince him that she was not the right girl. He would buy her extravagant gifts, convinced that this was how one courted a celebrity. He was rich, but the woman was milking him dry and that is what worried Hawk. For a girl who openly slept around for a living and who was with Spike only for a few weeks in a year, she was costing too much money. Hawk’s profit-biased thinking could not see the logic in dating such a celebrity. He was happy with his girl: a scholarship student throughout, independent, committed, and loyal. What else could a man ask for?

&nb
sp; “How is your brother?” Hawk suddenly changed the topic.

  “Ken? He is not OK; going down rather quickly.”

  “That is sad.”

  “He is unemployed—again. He keeps on saying weird stuff about the system, the Council of CEOs, etcetera. He believes there is some massive corruption taking place. No newspaper wants to employ him now, which makes him even more horrid. His drug addiction is out of control. He is always wasted and disillusioned.”

  “Sad indeed,” added Hawk.

  “His allegations are really baseless. Can you imagine our system being corrupt? Look around you, where is corruption? This is a flawless and fair system, yet he cannot stop complaining.”

  “I agree, your brother really needs to behave. If he continues to be unemployed, he will run into trouble.”

  “I know that. Dad tried to give him some money to set up a business of his own, so that he is struck off the unemployed list. However, for some reason his business registration applications keep on getting rejected. Sometimes paperwork is incomplete, at other times allocated quotas are not available. It is really a very bad situation. Annual draws are close and the family is worried,” said Spike.

  “It would be sad if he is selected, this year.”

  “I know, but we are hoping he will be spared. They only select one percent of the unemployed from all over the UPF. One has to be really unlucky. Draws are done randomly by computers, so it is not like someone can hack it.”

  “Still, there is that one percent chance.” Hawk disagreed with Spike’s analysis.

  “I choose not to think about it.” Spike gave a shoulder shrug. Hawk nodded, understanding his friend’s reluctance to have a discussion on the subject.

  “Look at this happy crowd.” Spike changed the topic again. “Would you believe, before the war all of this was impossible?”

  “Imagine that.” Hawk agreed with Spike’s comment. “My grandfather told me that drugs were illegal before the war. One could go to jail for selling or consuming drugs.”

  “They were surely messed up, killing one another for no reason. Imagine how much fun we would have missed if we were born then.”

  “I am so happy I was not born in that era—shit time with shit people and shit ideology.”

  “Yes.”

  “Who all is invited tonight?” Hawk introduced another change in topic.

  “The usual, plus some new faces,” replied Spike, cheerfully. “It will be fun; don’t worry.”

  “How can I be worried? I am with you. I will get what I want.” Hawk played to his friend’s ego.

  “You bet.”

  “Turn around, buddy, we are almost there.” Hawk was referring to the fact that they were at the counter now.

  “How may I help you?” asked the salesgirl behind the counter.

  Spike was instantly smitten by her youth and good looks. Her ginger hair and pink complexion appealed to Spike’s interests. “In more ways than you can imagine,” he replied, hoping she would respond positively.

  She laughed at his flirtatious answer as if she was expecting it. “You have no idea how many times I get to hear that line,” she replied, gleefully.

  Hawk rolled his eyes, absolutely sure Spike would not let go without trying to chat up the girl. He was not sure why it was needed; Spike had invited enough girls to the party already.

  “Are you a natural ginger?” Spike asked. “I have never seen a ginger with such flawless skin. Most gingers have freckled skin.”

  “I guess I am the lucky one,” replied the salesgirl, still smiling and obviously enjoying the attention she was getting.

  “Indeed you are. Your skin is beautiful, radiant, as if it is virgin to the touch.”

  “I would not count on the virginity part, but yes, I do have nice skin.”

  “Come on, Spike, can we please order?” Hawk was irritated. The salesgirl was not objecting to Spike’s advances, which was encouraging him to continue. Hawk’s patience had run out.

  Spike gave his friend an angry look and turned to the salesgirl again. “We will have this.” He pointed to a particular picture on the screen in front of them.

  “Good choice,” said the salesgirl.

  “Nothing but the best,” Spike boasted.

  “Can the two of you look toward the camera?” The salesgirl pointed to a small red light on the right. A camera quickly scanned their faces, and their identity details appeared on the screen in front of the salesgirl.

  “Why is this still needed? Do I not look like I am not fourteen?” Spike asked, still trying to sweet-talk the salesgirl.

  “Just routine procedure,” replied the salesgirl, looking at the screen and punching various buttons as she tried to complete the order. “Both of you need to pay separately to record two sales, as per the quota.”

  They nodded and took out their respective credit cards. A few minutes later she handed over two small packets, one for each one of them.

  “Enjoy yourselves,” said the salesgirl.

  “I want to tell you something,” said Spike while taking one of the packets from her.

  “What?”

  “Lean over.”

  The salesgirl leaned over the counter and Spike said something in her right ear. Hawk had no idea what was happening. Spike was at work here and he decided not to disturb the master.

  “You are not kidding?” asked the salesgirl as she moved back.

  “No, absolutely not.”

  “And the address is the same as shown here?”

  “Yes, beautiful.”

  “Hmm, OK, I will try.”

  “I will wait,” replied Spike.

  As they left the queue and started walking toward the exit, Hawk was speculating what bullshit story had been told to the salesgirl. Once out of the premises, he questioned Spike about this.

  “What just happened?”

  “I told her that one of her bosses, a very senior one, is also coming to my party tonight. It would be a good opportunity for her to meet him in a more personal way. It turns out she is interested,” Spike replied casually.

  “But is that true?”

  “Of course it is.”

  “And if he does not show up?”

  “Then who cares. She will be wasted anyway,” Spike replied carelessly. “Too stoned to remember what happened. It does not matter if she does not show up or her boss does not show up. I have invited so many girls tonight, I don’t need her. I am simply intrigued by a fair-skinned ginger girl. I have never seen one. I thought it would be good to see if she is ginger everywhere.”

  Hawk was amused by his friend’s imagination. He had a fair idea of what Spike was thinking. “You dirty pervert,” he said and mockingly tried to strangle this friend.

  “Come on, are you not intrigued?” asked Spike, trying to free his neck from his friend’s grip. “Let’s go home now. It is almost evening and I need to make arrangements.”

  Hawk was unsure as to what arrangements were to be made. Everyone was bringing their own drugs; Spike had already stocked up on liquor and food had been ordered. No one cared about the food anyway. By midnight people would be totally wasted and the only thing on their minds would be sex.

  ***

  Spike’s apartment was full before midnight. The music was loud, but did not disturb the neighbors. Spike had hired a specialist firm that provided high-quality soundproofing services. It cost a bomb, but was definitely worth it.

  While Spike was busy flirting with any girl who provided an opportunity, Hawk was only interested in younger girls. Legal age for sex had been relaxed to twelve and for consumption of liquor it was set at thirteen. As a result, such parties ended up having lots of schoolgirls who were still in their early teens. Hawk was fascinated by such girls. They were ready to experiment, eager to prove that they deserve to be at these parties, and stupid enough to trust men.

  Hawk looked around for his first prey and spotted a girl who looked too young to be there. She was of medium height, and had dark skin and
small breasts. She was drinking with her friends, but refraining from smoking. Her friends made a few attempts to make her smoke from a pipelike instrument, but she refused. Hawk felt she was slightly uncomfortable with the scene. Perfect, let’s have some fun, he thought.

  He made his way to the girl and raised his glass. “Is this your first time to a party?” he asked.

  “Why do you say so?” replied the girl.

  “Are you old enough to be here?”

  “I am old enough to do a lot of things,” the girl replied with a fake flirtatious tone.

  “You will not get us into trouble, I hope.”

  “I will not. This is not my first time.” The girl comforted the gentleman who was trying to be her morality police.

  “OK, I trust you. By the way, I am Hawk. I am one of the hosts.” Hawk offered his hand.

  “I am Zin,” replied the girl, taking his hand in hers.

  “Where are you from, Zin?” Hawk wanted to know more about his prey. He politely let go of her hand after their brief handshake.

  “Around here, Sector Three, born and brought up.” Zin was avoiding giving away too many details.

  “Which Sub-Sector?”

  “How is that relevant?” replied Zin. She moved closer and placed her right hand on Hawk’s pelvis. “Don’t you have other things to worry about?” She was looking into his eyes meaningfully.

  Hawk was not surprised by her move. This was a recurring pattern with these teens. The moment they felt threatened in these parties they responded by sexual advances on the host. It was socially unacceptable to be thrown out of these parties because you were considered too young. It would be a matter of discussion in school, and social media would make it impossible for the poor girl to have a normal life after that. This is what Hawk loved about these girls. Zin had taken the bait and was his to abuse.

  He removed her hand from his pelvis, pushed it behind her back, and pulled her toward him. “Of course I do. Let’s see if you are up for it,” he replied in a predatory tone, sensing an easy win.