CHAPTER 7
Stallings led the way out through a backdoor, ordering Locke to follow him, but not close. Descending eight flights of stairs, they were underground by the time they got to the bottom. Passing through one security door with Stallings’ security card, he allowed Locke to go through first.
This door opened into a room the size of a theater, which could have fit three SST’s. Over one hundred workers sat at control stations with headsets and microphones. They pressed various buttons on the workstations in front of them.
Twenty by thirty foot screens, double-stacked, covered the massive front wall. Ten in all, they changed from one set of numbers to another. Numbers flashed across the screens. Green and red arrows pointed up and down. Every few seconds the screens changed to different colors with more numbers.
Stallings grabbed the microphone clipped next to the doorway. “Govicide Agent Locke, the wall to your right is ninety feet high by one hundred fifty feet wide. It is curved so the screens covering it can be seen and read from anywhere in the room.”
Even with the speakers, Locke had a hard time hearing the Director’s words. Clicks from switches, hums from the computers, red buzzers, and the workers’ interactions muffled the Director’s strong voice.
Locke walked to his left toward the back of the giant room. He shouted, “What do all the numbers mean? All the arrows? The green and red?”
“The screens display various numbers with accompanying maps showing where a One World Government economic crime is taking place. Go ahead. Walk around,” the Director commanded. “If you have ever wondered why each product and ID on the World has a barcode, this is it.” Stallings coughed. “When the product gets scanned, the information goes right into the System’s program. Food, bicycles, rakes, clothes, all of it. They all appear on one of these screens. For services, like healthcare, your OWG ID gets scanned in. We know everything every subject has and we know what the Masses are doing. All scanned in real time. Sex credits, too.”
Of course, sex credits, Locke mused, his legs locking up then relaxing.
He walked along the left side to get a better view at the large screens.
Stallings couldn’t be seen over the banks of computers and workers, but his voice emanated from the speakers. “Everyone. This is Govicide Agent Michael Locke. He is the first subject recruited into Govicide. He worked on the Hamilton case as a Homicide Detective but now he is one of us. Stand up and give him his first bow.”
The System operators, in black pants and short-sleeve shirts, stood up and did as instructed, the room becoming quieter than a dead Offender. In unison, as if choreographed, these males and females with different heights and physical make-ups started and ended their bows at the same time. Perfection.
Locke took a step back from them, knowing how the Exalted Ruler must feel when out in public. This was too much for him. Too much attention. Too much respect. Too much admiration.
He didn’t deserve this. He was a flawed subject. Jade’s pregnancy proved it. He couldn’t be trusted to follow all of the OWG’s mandates. So, how could he enforce them?
But, the Director wanted him in Govicide. And that meant the Exalted Ruler had signed off on Locke’s promotion as well. And they were perfect. They never made any mistakes.
So, standing in front of these workers couldn’t be a mistake.
It was meant to be.
He sucked it in. It filled him with a warm feeling like the one on his first date with Jade. All self-consciousness disappeared.
He could get used to this.
After the brief bow, the workers returned to their duties. The warm feeling flooding through Locke’s chest didn’t diminish. He hoped it would stay with him a long time.
“Govicide Agent Locke, what you see on these screens is the System. The System is everything. Everything with the exception of what is in a subject’s head. But, we can infer what a subject is thinking by tracking what that subject uses. Every transaction, every bus ride, every channel on a television, every Sex Credit charged . . . ”
The Sex Credit information flashed up on the nearest screen.
“ . . . every un-mandated trade between two subjects, every vegetable cooked, every abortion . . . it is all here. We know what everyone is doing at any time by the tracking devices we have on clothing, transportation, edible and inedible goods, video and audio communication devices, et cetera. This is truly the only way we can make sure everyone is behaving for the greater good.”
Locke stopped opposite from the door he entered. The screens flashed like strobe lights from one topic to another.
Stallings continued, “A subject gets on an OWG bus, swipes his card. A subject goes to work, swipes his card. A subject goes to an OWG Doctor, swipes his card. A subject has sex, swipes his card. Your OWG education taught you all this, correct, Agent Locke?”
“Yes, sir, it did,” Locke shouted back, not sure if his voice was loud enough.
“Good. We had the old System. You are probably too young to remember it. It used video cameras. Cameras in living quarters. On street corners. On buses. Subjects watching Subjects, the OWG Marketing Department called it,” the Director laughed.
The Director was correct. Locke had no recollection of this old System. Looking at what was before him, it was not a huge step to see how this one was better.
“There were problems . . .” Stallings stuttered. “Too labor intensive. A camera worker could only watch ten screens at one time. And many crimes against the OWG were missed. To improve it, OWG engineers created the Subject Improvement System--the System, for short. It needs a lot less subject power. Computers do all the analysis. Workers like these in this room do the monitoring and Agents enforce the OWG mandates.”
The red and green arrows. The blue and red numbers. The purple and yellow charts. Every pixel tracking a product. Every program tracking a service. Every Agent tracking an Offender.
“With the addition of the World Position System a few years later, the System has become one hundred percent accurate. In a few more years, with every subject of the Masses swallowing a stomach-acid resistant WPS device, the OWG will know where every subject’s location at a moment’s notice making it even more efficient.”
Leaning up against the wall, Locke’s eyes panned from one to the other, capturing every color and screen change. Complexity and simplicity at the same time. Complex because of the amount of different variables. But simple because it made sense: Controlling the subjects by controlling the goods and services. A subject couldn’t do something for his own interest because anything he would use--a good or service—was tracked. A subject could only make so many decisions. He had very few choices. And when a subject had few choices, he was predictable and controllable.
A perfect subject of the OWG.
“These controllers watch for errors.” Stallings hacked once again. It sounded like he was coming down with something. “If an offense pops up, the controller calls a scheduler. The scheduler records it on a calendar so we know when it happened. Of course, the offense is also stored in the System’s memory. A dispatcher alerts an Agent who investigates. You would probably be surprised, Agent Locke. We do not have the number of govicide crimes most subjects think. Granted, early in the OWG, we did. But a few executions of subjects was all it took to convince everyone of the genius of the System.”
An irrepressible grin, stretching like an Offender on the rack, spanned Locke’s face as he watched the screens flicker. No one could get away. Maybe they could for a short while but the System was too powerful.
Except Hamilton.
Locke resisted the thought.
Hamilton got caught.
But by Locke and Agents, not the System. Even to this day, Hamilton never appeared on the System anywhere.
The grin grew wider. Yes, Locke, for one moment over a week ago, was more powerful than even the System.
Then, he frowned, his body leaning even more into the wall. These screens would expose Jade’s pregnancy if he couldn’t come up with a plan. A red number or a red flashing arrow would pop up and soon his fellow Govicide Agents would be at his door. They’d drag him and Jade away for questioning. And punishment.
“For example, that top left screen at this second is profiling subjects watching the OWG News Channel . . .”
Stallings’ words faded into the background as they took on a whole new meaning. This was no longer a tutorial on how the System worked. No longer an explanation of how the beauty of it kept the OWG in control. No longer a lesson in how the OWG watched over its subjects.
Now it was a diagram as to how Jade and Locke would eventually be caught. Every red arrow and red number stalking them until they had the two cornered. In his own words, even though Stallings knew nothing of their predicament, he was telling Locke how the end would arrive. It would come as a red arrow, a red number, and a red buzzer on one of the worker’s workstations.
Within seconds, all the screens changed to a whole new set of criteria. Then, ten seconds after that, they switched again. The screens had a kind of rhythm. They were the pulse of the OWG. Beating. Thumping.
And nipping at the heels of Locke and Jade like a predator.
Locke rotated and flexed his ankles at the thought.
After all these years, Locke finally got to see the System. Like many others, he had tried to visualize it. Everyone was aware of it, but due to the size it was difficult to understand how it worked. The Masses could only see the scanners, the barcodes, and the cards used to access everything.
The System was like a jigsaw puzzle. A subject could hold one piece knowing it was part of a giant puzzle but not understand what the final picture looked like. Even having one hundred pieces of a thousand piece puzzle wouldn’t help.
And the puzzle picture for Locke and Jade was one of penalties and unavoidable death.
Fear filled him starting at the back of throat. He struck it down with one swallow. He’d made his final decision to stay silent when he didn’t fess up to the Director earlier. No use going back over covered ground.
He would find a way out.
Stallings’ words faded back into his consciousness, “ . . . this is just one control room of many across the World. This is the main one since this is Govicide World Headquarters. The mainframes, the supreme program, et cetera are kept here. But, there are four similar rooms on this continent. And another fifty spread out over the World. All the information they collect comes back here.” He hesitated. “I am going to talk to Ms. Zell for a moment, Agent Locke. Continue to observe.”
Locke circled back toward the main door, this time under the screens. They were hung above him like giant sails pushing the room forward. The room didn’t have any lights, other than small lamps on a few consoles. The lights off the screens were enough to keep the hangar-like room well-lit.
Examining the controllers’ work for a minute, he watched their eyes dart from one set of buttons to another. Up to the screens then back to their consoles. Many talked into the mikes attached to their headphones. Another group chattered on phones attached to their desks. A few others observed the screens as if under a trance.
This was the way to do it:Complete coverage and complete control. As much as Locke despaired, knowing he could be a future target, he couldn’t deny this was the way to run a civilization.
No way for a subject to strike out on his own and leave everyone else behind. Locke understood why Offenders who tried to get around the System got caught. These subjects were not truly getting around the System. They were falling straight into the System’s trap. They thought if they were alone they couldn’t get caught.
They were wrong.
A controller jumped up, the glasses falling off her face. “We got one. There are two video communication devices operating in this subject’s living quarters but the System says he only has one.”
At once, two other controllers came to her side. They spoke in hushed tones. Locke stepped closer, trying to hear them, but he caught none of their words. After a few frenzied seconds, the controller sat back down, picked up a phone and dialed.
A Govicide Agent would knock on that subject’s door within the next day. Locke imagined himself doing the same. Flashing the badge. Asking to see the video communication devices. Scanning their bar codes to see who received them after the OWG manufactured them.
Subjects could be clever, though. Offenders found ways of making fake barcodes out of paper and ink from computer printers. They could make it appear, in this instance, that both devices were legitimate, gluing a fake barcode over a real one. If an Agent wasn’t thorough, the Offender could slip by.
Offender John Smith would give his device to Tom Brown. Tom Brown would make a fake barcode in his living quarters, placing it over the real barcode. If scanned, it registered as Tom Brown’s, the Offender claiming the System made a mistake. John Smith, the Offender without a video communication device, would say his broke and he threw it away.
If the Govicide Agent was lax and didn’t check all records, Tom and John could get away with the crime. Granted, if the Agent followed the paper trail, there would be several indications Tom Brown forged the barcode. But the barcode would pass if a Govicide Agent were only making a spot check of subjects’ equipment.
Not that trading was impossible. If a subject filled out the thirty different forms and waited a year for the OWG to examine the economic impact of such a trade, then the trade might happen. Very few were approved, though.
Locke sauntered over to the door he first entered, craning his neck to see the screens.
Stallings, having returned, waited for him. When Locke got close, Stallings propped open the door, then started up the stairs well ahead of Locke.
“So, Agent Locke, what did you think?” the Director asked when he reached the top of the first flight. Locke heard the wheezing twenty feet away.
“Magnificent. Unbelievable,” Locke answered, a half flight behind.
“That is what all Agents say when they see it. It works, does it not?”
“Absolutely, Director Stallings. Perfection.”
Stallings stopped at the next landing, looking down at Locke. “Originally, we needed ten times as many workers and screens to track everything. But now, the Masses have become,” Stallings rolled his eyebrows,“conditioned. They do not get out of line as much.” Stallings cracked his knuckles and coughed, echoing down to Locke. “With fewer subjects trying to get around the System, less is needed to monitor them. The total conditioning of the Masses is nearly complete.”
They climbed the rest of the way in silence, except for Stallings’ wheezing.
“Are you alright?” Locke asked as soon as they reached the interview room.
Stallings stood at the window again, this time facing Locke. “Nothing getting to the front of the OWG Healthcare line cannot fix.”
Locke noticed some objects on the edge of the table that were not there before.
“I commanded Assistant Zell bring in the tools of the trade.” Stallings pointed to the table. “The Govicide badge. As you are aware, no other object is capable of scaring a subject like this one.”
Locke grabbed it, not quite snatching it off the table. It felt warm, like it had been sitting in the sun. Or, maybe it was the excitement flowing out of his fingertips.
The badge was palm-sized, shaped like a gold, five-pointed star. It said, Govicide, in capital letters across the middle. Locke ran his fingers along its edges. “I remember the first time I saw one of these. I think I was fifteen. Two Govicide agents flashed their badges to a comrade of mine. They asked questions about the boy’s father and what the male had been doing because he kept popping up on the System’s screens.” Locke suppressed a vision of this happening to him and Jade. “My comrade told them everything he knew like a good subject should, though it wasn’t much. I can’t remember the specifics. But, days later, those Govicide Agents took the dad away. Nobody saw him again. My comrade got over it within days.”
Locke expected a smile on Stallings’ face. Instead, he saw a concerned look. “You mean the Agents did not take your comrade in as well?”
“No. They didn’t.” Why was he asking?
“Hmmm, our policies have changed since then. We take in the whole family now. Do you know where your comrade is?”
“Kind of lost track of him. Can’t even remember his name,” Locke answered.
“Well, if he pops up, bring him in.” The tone in Stallings’ voice could have cracked solid rock.
“Okay, I will.” Locke nodded, his heading bobbing a couple times too many.
And with Locke’s answer, Stallings smiled again and the tone disappeared. “Your satellite phone . . .”
Locke hung on to the badge while he picked up the phone. He’d seen only a few of these. Far fewer than Govicide badges.
“These phones have the capability to take calls no matter where an Agent is,” the Director told Locke. “Bouncing off satellites the OWG launched many years ago. Agents get them. Subjects do not. They make Govicide more efficient. You will notice that as soon as you are out in the field.”
It was no bigger than Locke’s hand. A small antenna stuck out one side. He played with the buttons.
“And last but not least, your scanner,” Stallings pointed.
“I’ve seen these. You push the button and a red beam comes out, capable of reading any barcode.”
The scanner looked like a stun gun without the large battery. It was bigger than the phone and much heavier.
“You have everything you need to enforce the OWG’s mandates now, Govicide Agent Michael Locke.”
“Thank you, sir. Thank you. I won’t let you and the OWG down.” Only if I don’t get caught covering up my girlcomrade’s pregnancy first, Locke wanted to add. He smiled. Stallings probably thought it was due to Locke’s excitement of becoming an Agent. But it was because Locke found a way to joke about the worst circumstance of his life.
If nothing else, it was progress.
“I am sure you will not let me down. Your partner will meet up with you in Gambling City. He will bring your Agent clothes with him. He is working on a special project. I am sure you can help him. He will give you the details.” Stallings coughed one more time.
“I’ll be happy to meet him.” Locke’s first thought: Would this partner give him any insight on how to get out of the pregnancy?
“He was the partner of one of Hamilton’s victims. In fact, it was the first one, William Cardon. His name is Govicide Agent Alex Hiss.”
Locke shook his head. “I can’t say I remember the name.”
“You two should work well together.” Stallings started toward the backdoor, keeping clear of Locke. “He has been with Govicide since his eighteenth birthday. He is fifty-eight now.”
“A forty-year veteran? I’m sure he’ll teach me a lot.”
Locke and Stallings said good-bye to each other, without shaking hands, of course. Out through the exquisite waiting room. Into the buzzing office. But this time, when the workers saw Locke, they stopped as if someone hit the “pause” button. The chattering. The clacking footsteps. The keyboard tapping. It all halted. And just like the System workers, every single worker bowed to Locke. Once again, in unison.
This time, he had no feeling of being overwhelmed. Just thanks.
He waved his right hand as he paraded past them, dragging his luggage behind. The only sound? The squeaking of his bag’s wheels.
Locke heard them go back to work as soon as the elevator doors closed.
Zell waited on the ground floor. She noticed Locke’s badge, phone, and scanner. “I see you passed Director Stallings’ test.”
“What test?”
“You admitted you failed on your original Govicide test, right?”
“Yes, I did. I had to.” Locke shrugged his shoulders.
“If you had tried to defend yourself, he would have dismissed you right there. Director Stallings wants everyone to realize that admitting their errors is the way to a true understanding of Govicide, the System, and the OWG. They exist to perfect us and defending one’s self against the Director is neither fruitful nor advised.”
“I have no doubt.” Locke took in the lobby of the building, not knowing when he would be there again. And, if he were, would he be in chains or not?
She led him to the front doors and opened them. “Your limo is here. And remember, Govicide Agent Locke, we’re counting on you.”
“Thanks.” He left the building, pausing to turn around and examine her one time more time. There was something about her . . .
The door closed on her but Zell remained there. Just as he decided to walk back to the door to see what she wanted, she walked away.
Was that the behavior of someone who knew something? If Zell somehow knew about Jade, she would’ve told the Director. But she couldn’t know anything, could she? Maybe as a female, she guessed Jade getting pregnancy tests weren’t a preparation for the future like Locke told the Director.
Maybe Zell knew females got those test because they needed them now. But, wouldn’t she tell the Director that?
Strange.
Locke descended the stairs, Zell’s last glare etched on several memory cells.
The return trip to Gambling City was a blur. Limousine to airport. Airport to plane. No flirtatious and opportunistic flight attendants. No wondering why the airports were so large. Or why he was the only Agent on the SST.
He was a defender of the OWG now. A defective defender but a defender nonetheless.
No matter. He would find a way to fix the defect.
Everything faded to the background when he ran his fingers over the badge, the phone, and the scanner. He felt as if power flowed through them, sending a surge of heat through his body. The badge’s points were sharp, claw-like. The phone, advanced and efficient. The scanner, accurate and deadly.
He was the first, the first to fail the test and be an Agent anyway. He couldn’t fail the Director. Whatever special project his new partner was working on, Locke planned to do whatever it took to help. Anything. Anything to keep the OWG providing everything for everyone.
He would give his all for the OWG until either it found out about the pregnancy. And if it didn’t, and he found a way to get around it, he would work even harder until his life ended.
But there was still the problem of Jade. Locke had no idea how he would tell her. She wasn’t going to like the idea he chickened out. She would just have to understand and believe he could find an escape hatch.
However, a speck of unease crept in, like a nagging worry he forgot to turn off the stove after leaving his living quarters. Was there an ironclad way to satisfy his desires—being an Agent and solving Jade’s pregnancy—that he was forgetting?
The answer was right there. But it was like his inner thoughts couldn’t focus on it.
And its origin was a mystery.
When he exited Gambling City airport, a limousine waited for Locke. This driver had the same demeanor as the one in the District, few words and no emotion. Locke gave up trying to start a conversation within a block of leaving the airport.
When the limousine got close, he dialed his living quarter’s number. The line rang twice.
“Hello.”
“Hello, OWG honey, guess where I am?”
“Uh, you’re still in the District?”
“No.”
“You’re at the airport waiting to leave?”
“No.”
“I give up. Where are you? How did it go?”
“Look out the window and I’ll show you.” Locke answered, trying to be serious.
Locke jumped out and leaned against the limo. In a few seconds, Jade poked her head out from between the curtains. She saw him and squinted for a second then her eyes went wide. She disappeared from the window.
She came out the front door screaming and ran over to him, jumping into his arms. They kissed, long and hard. The limousine driver stood watching, staying silent.
“You got it. Didn’t you? You got it,” she said between heavy breaths.
“I did. Are you going to bow to me?”
“Girlcomrades of Agents don’t have to bow, even I know that. But . . . I’ll do it once. But only once.” She bowing, hands clasped together, then jumped back into his arms.
He kissed her again, spinning together until they both got dizzy.
“Let me show you the tools of the work.” He put her back down.
Locke ducked back into the car. He handed her the badge, scanner, and phone.
She admired all three. The badge seemed to attract most of her attention. She pressed the buttons on the phone and the scanner, similar to Locke’s initial reaction.
“This is a phone? You were talking to me on this?” She held it up to her ear and then looked at it again.
“Uh-huh.”
“I didn’t think a phone like this was possible. You can go anywhere with it?”
“It even works on the jet. I mean, the SST.” Locke turned to the driver. “So, how does this work?How do I reach you when I need a ride?”
“Dial zero on the phone.” The driver’s voice was lower than Locke expected given his thin stature. “Either myself or the other driver will be here in under a half hour, Govicide Agent Locke”
“I like the sound of that. Well, I’ll call you tomorrow morning. Have to get some things at Homicide.”
The driver climbed into the limousine and pulled away.
“Strange male,” Jade mentioned as she watched the automobile leave.
“Yeah. You aren’t going to believe the stories I have for you.”
Hand in hand, Locke and Jade strolled up the sidewalk to their living quarters.