CHAPTER 31
The SST landed in Jongil City in less than an hour. The weather was a bit warmer than Snow City, by at least thirty degrees. But what the City had in nice weather, it lacked in scenery.
Most buildings were on the verge of collapse, their wooden frames sagging under years of wear. Weeds and trees grew over the old roads. Even the newer buildings had all their windows punctured. Fallen trees made the driver take detours.
On this first visit a year ago, the Govicide Agents told Locke this place had been evacuated almost thirty years ago. Over the course of months with trucks and boats and a few planes, the OWG moved the Masses to the other continents, closer to the distribution network. To make the move easier, the OWG instructed them to leave all their belongings behind. They would receive new goods when they reached their destinations. The Agents added that many subjects were killed during the move by rough seas, plane crashes, and hurricanes.
The trip into the mountains outside Jongil City took three hours. Along the way they passed a succession of ridges separated by narrow valleys. Snow topped some of the mountain peaks that went in and out of sight as the limousine wound its way through the switchbacks. Much like the tundra from the day before, this area was barren, like humans had never stepped on this land.
The limousine stopped in front of a concrete tunnel, penetrating deep into a mountain. This was not a tunnel for vehicles, though. It had no exit. Someone had recently found the cash inside. Hiss asked how the site had been found. The driver claimed he didn’t know since he lived elsewhere.
Inside this tunnel, a network of small hallways broke off in different directions. Offices, storage areas, laboratories--all sheltered under thousands of tons of rock. Even if he took the whole day, Locke wouldn’t be able to investigate it all. At some time, subjects worked for the OWG here. What their work was, neither Agent knew.
True to Hiss’ report, they found the green bills deep inside. The green color appeared in front of their flashlights like a rodent at night. Like Cornville and Snow City, the cash was spread out as if somebody couldn’t take all of it. While Hiss examined the cash, Locke scoured the cave for the Symbol. He didn’t find one, whipping a few pebbles against the cave walls. Maybe he wasn’t searching hard enough.
“This cash is from Red Star City,” Hiss said after a few minutes.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. See this WPS? The battery is dead but I recognize it as the kind we use in Red Star City.” Hiss showed it to Locke then shoved it in his pocket.
After rummaging around for another half hour, they found a clue, several metal parts similar to the ones on the tundra. “You had a good look at those parts. What do you think? Are they the same?” Hiss asked.
Locke kneeled on the gravel floor, picking up a curved part, “Kind of. This piece is similar to the pieces at Snow City except it’s smaller. Maybe part of a cylinder. See how it’s curved?”
“Grab what you can.” Hiss ordered. “We will take them to town in the limo.”
Locke carried the parts out to the limousine, putting the smaller ones in the passenger area and the rest in the trunk. Hiss carried none.
As they pulled away, Locke looked up at the hillside above the tunnel.
A Symbol stared down at him.
Not huge like the one on the tundra, but it was large. Fifty feet by forty feet.Someone constructed it out of rocks littered across the mountainside. They placed the rocks about a foot apart to form the hump. But, the Symbol was out of sight before he had a chance to alert Hiss. His partner would’ve dismissed it as a natural formation anyway.
On the road into the city, they passed rows and rows of empty living quarters. All built in the exact same dimensions. No electrical lines ran to any of them. He pointed this out to Hiss who believed the OWG took the electrical lines with them to save materials.
That night, the Agents stayed in a trailer, since no hotels existed in Jongil City. The trailer sat in the vicinity in case Govicide Agents came into the area. It consisted of a bus with living accommodations inside. Three couches, tables, a television, and two bedrooms. Hiss picked the bedroom at the far back of the trailer. Locke was left with the one closer to the front.
When Locke got settled in his room, he called Jade. There was so much he wanted to say, but Govicide guidelines were clear. He informed her that he wouldn’t be home for a while. Maybe a week. The silence on the other end told Locke all he needed to know about Jade’s feelings about it. After a few seconds, she perked up and blurted with robotic precision what was expected in such circumstances, “The OWG is going to be so much more perfect because of your work.” She had no choice. Complaining about a Govicide Agent’s work schedule could get a subject in trouble, even if the subject was an Agent’s girlcomrade.
Locke, frustrated by the OWG phone limitations, felt like the conversation was going nowhere. Jade must’ve felt the same way since she didn’t put up much of a fight when he said he’d better go.
After the conversation ended, the driver brought dinner. Hiss and he both enjoyed steak cooked by one of OWG’s finest chefs, who had come along with the driver and the limousine on a cargo plane. Nothing but the best for Govicide Agents.
Locke slept well, climbing out of bed shortly after six in the morning to go to the bathroom. While Hiss’ bathroom connected to his room, Locke’s was at the front. It was no bigger than a phone booth and reminded him of the bathroom on the SST.
He shut the door behind him and the light came on. And there on the sink sat another envelope. He wasn’t even surprised. He almost expected the messages at this point. If Hamilton’s comrades were in Snow City, of course they could be here in Jongil City. He tore the flap, his eyes not wavering from the hand-drawn Symbol.
Once again, another single sheet of paper.
Hello Govicide Agent Locke, this is where the future is headed.
Locke read the message a few times. Headed for what?
Standing at the toilet, he squinted out through the tiny window. A male standing in the bathroom could urinate while admiring the landscape outside. The window was far enough off the ground that no one could look in.
The trailer sat on a street by a park. In the distance, Locke saw a building, similar to Govicide Headquarters, but much smaller. Forty years ago, he pictured the structure being the centerpiece of the city. Only a shell remained. Walls and a roof, nothing else.
A dirt and gravel street, as crude as the evacuated building, separated the trailer from the building’s grounds. He glanced at the letter sitting on the sink.
Hello Govicide Agent Locke, this is where the future is headed.
He looked outside again. The building. He read the note. He looked outside. The streets. He read the note. He looked outside, remembering those rows of buildings on the edge of the city. Back and forth his attention alternated between the view and the letter.
He took the letter and envelope to his room, locking the door so Hiss wouldn’t peek in unannounced.
Opening the blinds, he continued thinking.
He saw a wasteland.
Could this letter mean this environment was where the World was headed?
Locke shook his head. The OWG was providing everything for everyone. The future had no choice but be better.
But, what if Hamilton and his comrades had their way?
If they were truly Free Enterprisers, then the future would be the scene Locke saw outside his trailer. Like the fables said: Free Enterprisers destroy everything.
But, Hamilton was high tech, at least as high tech as the OWG. Hamilton was in perfect health. He had the ability to travel the World. And, this outside environment looked the opposite of perfect.
Why would Hamilton’s comrades want to make the future worse if they lived so well now?
Hamilton knew the meaning of this message. But would he tell Locke the truth and admit his plans were to take the World back to anarchy?
No, he wouldn’t do that. But Locke anticipated asking Hamilton anyway.
He stuck the letter and envelope deep in his bag with the previous ones.
An hour later they were in the air on their short trip to Red Star City. OWG techs would be waiting for them to collect the parts from the mountain site.
Locke had no time to relax in his seat before the SST descended to their destination. Below him, he saw a city he remembered well. He recalled being able to smell the city from the ocean as he neared shore ten months ago.
The stench was a combination of OWG Food being cooked on open grills and industry from the stacks belching smoke. The OWG believed in good environmental policy, but not at the cost of producing Goods and Services. And this is where most manufacturing took place.
Everything from bicycles to forks, plates to wheels. All made here. OWG workers of all ages labored to make sure the Masses had everything they needed. Children from five years old up to subjects in their last years before elimination toiled twenty-four hours a day to make sure everyone got that to which they were entitled.
As the SST flew over the miles of factories, Locke thought how responsible the OWG was to teach youngsters good OWG work habits at such an early age. OWG children worried about two things: school and OWG work.
The thought of children brought Jade to his mind. He reminded himself, no matter how his curiosity took him off in different directions, he needed to solve this case. There could be no children in his or Jade’s future.
The OWG techs met them and took the parts from Jongil City away. Hiss insisted they call him as soon as they learned something.
The limousine pulled up alongside a tanker roped to a Red Star dock. It had arrived two days ago. One of the sailors found cash on its deck. The ocean-goer was several hundred feet longer than the cruise ships Locke used for two years. Yet, all it held was the black liquid so important to the OWG: oil.
The captain, short with a large hat, led them aboard. His OWG language sounded rough, like he learned it a week ago. This was common with most of the subjects in this area.
“Gov’cide Agents,” the captain bowed. “Happy have you here.”
“And we are happy to be here, Captain Lee,” Hiss answered. “Where is the cash?”
“Still on deck.”
Through a series of heavy metal doors and stairs, Captain Lee led them up to the front of the ship.
“You have questioned the crew?” Hiss asked.
“Oh, yes, Gov’cide Agent. Oh, yes.” The captain bowed again. “They know nothing.”
“Did you whip them? Torture them to get some answers?” Hiss asked, his tone seeming to doubt the crews’ innocence.
“No. Not yet.”
“Govicide will take care of it.” Hiss nodded, face hard as the ship’s steel hull.
One more door and the three stood on the main deck. Locke strolled to a side railing and gazed down. The limousine was a speck in the distance.
“Cash over here. In oil.” Captain Lee directed.
Beside one of the openings into the hold of the ship, a large, black patch dirtied the red deck.
“And there are no crew members missing?” Hiss continued his questioning.
“No, Govicide Agent. All here. They found cash two days ago. Sunrise. Ship in Middle Ocean when happened.”
As the two talked, Locke listened, hanging onto the rail. “How much oil is missing?” he finally queried.
“Hard to say, Govicide Agent. Ship leak oil all time. Hundreds gallons a day. Hard to measure any taken.”
“Leave us,” Hiss commanded.
One more bow, and the Captain retreated to the inside of the ship.
“What do you think?” Locke asked.
Hiss raised a scraggly eyebrow, “The System registered no red flags. The ship did not stop on the way here. Whatever happened occurred while the ship was in motion.”
The cash was soaked in oil, keeping it from blowing off the ship and into the water. Neither Agent touched the slimy mess.
Locke bent over. What was just a slight smell overwhelmed his nose when he got close. He recoiled. “They’re one hundreds. But in this condition you’ll never be able to tell where they’re from.”
“Yeah . . .” Hiss nodded, sounding like he’d just missed a meal.
After a walk to the bow and stern, they climbed down all ten flights to the dock. Their walk to the limousine took them along the side of the ship. As Locke admired the steel of this monstrosity, he noticed something at water level near the bow, sixty feet from the dock.
The Symbol—black and not well drawn. In fact, if he hadn’t seen all the others, he wasn’t sure it would have stuck out on the red hull of the ship. This provided him an opportunity. “Govicide Agent Hiss, see that?”
“What?” Hiss kept walking.
“On the bow.”
Hiss squinted. “That black thing? The ship must have rubbed against something.”
“No. That’s the Symbol for the subjects moving this cash. They’re all over the place.”
“Really? I have not seen any.” Hiss slid into the limo.
Locke blocked him closing his door. “I’m serious, Govicide Agent Hiss. This Symbol means something.”
“What? What does it mean?”
“I . . . I don’t know. But they’re everywhere. They’re all over Gambling City and--”
“I have never seen them. But, when you find out what they mean, let me know. Now, move your fingers before I shut the door on them.”
The door slammed, just missing Locke’s appendages. Solving this case before Jade’s pregnancy had just become more difficult than ever, as Hiss was becoming more of an obstacle. Dread wrapped itself around his throat and squeezed.
Four hours later, the SST touched down in Punjabburg. Locke recalled being stunned by the color of the subjects here. They weren’t white. They weren’t black. They were tan but not quite the color of Jade either.
Hamilton killed Govicide Agent Victor Fielek here nine months ago. Fielek was here investigating Offenders when poisoned.
The hour was too late to go to the site, so the limousine whisked them to their hotel.
With the rising of the sun, Locke woke up to another message under his door.
Hello Govicide Agent Locke, our plan involves not taking over, but taking over.
“Great, another riddle. Why can’t they stick to straight forward messages like the first one?” Locke tossed the page across the room.
Regaining his composure a few moments later, he packed the note in his bag. Him putting the message away was not a sign that he’d lost interest in them. Very much the opposite. He liked getting them . . . as long as they said nothing about blackmail.
What they found in Punjabburg was nothing like Locke experienced before. First, like the ship, this seemed an outrageous place to find cash: inside an OWG tech facility. Yet, no one saw anything. The workers here programmed computer equipment, dealing with making the System more efficient and powerful.
It appeared nothing had been taken. Well, except the videos tapes recording everything going on at the facility. The cash was found in an out-of-the-way part of the building where few workers labored.
While Hiss surveyed every inch of the work area, Locke selected a few workers to question in a private office.
“So you saw nothing?” Locke asked.
“Nothing, Govicide Agent,” the older male answered.
“But, the cash was found fifteen feet from where you work for the OWG.”
“I never go over there. Not part of my work for the OWG.”
“But it’s only fifteen feet away!” Locke slammed the desk.
The worker cleared his throat, “Are you saying I should take time to go over there while I am supposed to be working for the OWG, Govicide Agent? There is no work to be done for the OWG in that area.”
“What I’m saying is it wouldn’t hurt to turn your head and notice something once in a while . . . Next!”
The worker left the office. A young female entered. She bowed.
“You sit right by the front door. Nobody goes past without you noticing.”
“Yes, Govicide Agent. Well, no, Govicide Agent.” she answered.
“Is your answer yes or no?”
“It means I see subjects pass by me but I do not look at them.”
“And what does that mean?”
“I do not see their faces.”
“You’re telling me you couldn’t identify one of the other workers here?” Locke asked, his voice cracking.
“No. Why would I? I work for the OWG. Not them. The OWG is everything. They are nothing. I owe everything to the OWG. Not them. I am sure all the other workers would say the same. Any time I spend observing them takes away from my time working for the OWG.”
An image of the busses sped through Locke, the riders’ heads down. “Then tell me. The System says you’ve been here a few years. Who should I ask about the cash? Who would be first on your list?”
“Everybody.”
“Everybody?” Locke cocked his head. “Why?”
“Because I am the most loyal OWG worker on the entire World, so everyone else must be less loyal. So, they must all be investigated.”
“You’re saying everyone else must be guilty of something against the OWG but you?”
“Yes.” Her answer sounded crisp with certainty.
“Next!”
The female exited. The next subject to enter was a young male in charge of the videotapes for the facility. Surely he had something to say. He bowed.
“What happened to the tapes?” Locke asked, nose to nose with him.
“They were taken.”
“I know that. Who took them? You?” Locke circled the worker, sensing weakness.
“Well, uh . . .”
“You did, didn’t you?” he whispered in the worker’s ear.
“Yes, I did. But . . .”
“And where did you get the cash?” Locke yelled.
He shrank from Locke. “I do not know anything about the cash.”
“You expect me to believe you had something to do with the tapes but nothing to do with the cash?” Even louder this time.
“You do not understand, Govicide Agent.”
Locke leaned on the corner of the desk. Much softer now, “Then, explain it to me.”
“Well, uh, I watch OWG News all the time. You can check the System. It is the truth. And I see all the time how the One World Government is telling everyone to save energy because of the worldwide shortage. And I know how many of the buildings have shut down their video cameras, you know . . .the ones left over from the original system . . .so I decided I could help the OWG by shutting down ours, too.”
As the male spoke, Locke remembered the first hotel with its non-working cameras.
The tape manager continued, tears overflowing like a plugged toilet. “They have been disconnected for years now. No tapes in them either, because the cameras were disconnected anyway. The Offenders did not take them because there were no tapes to take.”
If this were a murder investigation, it was about the time Locke would punch a witness. Unlike his moments with Hamilton, Locke would have no problem delivering a few punches.
But he held back. Instead, Locke grabbed a pen and paper, and sketched the Symbol.
“Have you ever seen this?” He held it very close to the male’s face.
“What is that?” the subject sniffled.
“For now, let’s just call it an upside down U. Have you seen it?”
“I think so. Yes, I think so.” The male straightened, seemingly happy he could finally assist Locke.
Locke’s eyes opened wide. “You mean you didn’t ignore them?”
“No. How could I? They are in the bathroom stalls.”
“If you’re telling me the truth, you’ll get no credit deductions. But if you’re lying, I don’t need to tell you what will happen. And get those cameras working again.” Locke scolded as he left the office.
The worker told the truth. Locke found the Symbols drawn in every stall, done with a sharp object. A knife maybe. He weighed showing Hiss, but the Agent would dismiss it as someone bored while going to the bathroom.
As he stood there, with the stall door closed, the bus image returned. How everyone had their heads down, not giving attention to anyone around them. Not talking to their fellow travelers.
Just like the workers in this facility.
How could two different types of subjects show the same behavior when thousands of miles separated them?
One side of him insisted the OWG caused this behavior, while the other side insisted it wasn’t possible.
In the limousine, Hiss complained the whole way to the airport about the OWG workers. How they hadn’t shown the two Agents enough respect. How he thought a few of them didn’t bow low enough. How one of them wanted to touch the cash that was found.
“And what about you?” Hiss finally got around to asking.
“Offenders took the tapes,” Locke lied. He could never turn in a subject who helped him find the Symbol. “What did you think about the workers not even recognizing each other?”
“Concentrating on their OWG work like they should. They should work as hard at showing us more respect . . .”
The SST flight that evening took them to Pak City. Another short flight. Hamilton hadn’t murdered anyone here, so the area was new to Locke. The Masses here were very similar to the ones in Punjabburg. Dark-skinned with white features. Since night had fallen, they’d have to head to the mountains where the cash was found in the morning.
Locke anticipated an envelope the next morning. The timing was right. A different city, a different hotel, a new message.
But it got Locke to thinking as he relaxed in his Pak City hotel. How did the Messenger even know where Hiss and he were going? Govicide agent’s movements were secret. The pilots were given the schedule on a day-to-day basis.
And how did the Messenger stay in step with them? A different one in every city? Maybe, but all of the messages had the same handwriting.
Were they written beforehand? And then sent out to the different cities somehow? That seemed like a lot of work.
But how?
The same way Hamilton traveled the World.
Hamilton must have used a plane. During those two years, Locke thought Hamilton used the same travel methods as Homicide. Boats, trains, and buses.
Now, Locke decided his premise was wrong. Hamilton used something a lot faster. And the only way to travel faster was by jet.
But, Govicide and a few select Departments were the only groups who had jet access.
And jets were tracked with radar. They had to take off from somewhere. They had to land somewhere. They needed fuel. Pilots. Maintenance.
In those terms, the possibility of a group other than the OWG having a jet was remote. Someone would notice a jet landing somewhere other than at the regular airports. A pilot couldn’t safely land a plane in a field.
These mysteries could be solved with one simple action: Catch the Messenger.
Locke slept through the message deliveries so far. Not this time.
If he caught the delivery subject, he could find out how the Messenger moved from place to place. Who wrote the notes. What they planned.
And if the he didn’t cooperate, Locke could always turn him over to his superiors at Govicide.
But could he do that?
He wasn’t so sure.