Part 3

     Perturbed and confused by the odd behavior of Alvis, Lorraine decided to stop for a drink on the way home.  “James,” she said into her wrist-com, which she set to message mode, “I’ve got something I need to take care of.  I probably won’t be home for dinner.  I love all of you.”  With that, she entered her favorite bar, the Unicord.  Walking in, she could see it was a slow night, with only a few patrons scattered about.  She ordered a Snorter from the bartender, Riley, whom she had spoken with many times before.  As she paid for her drink, Riley brushed her arm suggestively.  “Not tonight Riley, I’ve actually got real Ministry work to do.”  Riley ran a pick through her afro nonchalantly and turned her back away from the bar.  “Your loss.  But come see me anytime,” she replied. Lorraine didn’t reply to this, and moved to a booth at the back of the bar where she could have some privacy.  She looked again at the comm code on her wrist-com.  Her fingered hovered above the ‘authorize’ button, while all sorts of odd thoughts went through her mind.  Who was on the other end of the line?  What did they do?  Did they know about the murder?  How?  Was she in trouble?  Only one way to find out.  Lorraine pushed ‘authorize’.  What she saw on the other end surprised her more than all the other strange events of the day.

     “Yeah, who’s this?”  The face on the other end of Lorraine’s wrist-com was that of an older woman, maybe 63, although it was hard to tell.  The woman had dark black hair streaked with gray, cut short, maybe a little past her ears, with a dull brown complexion. Lorraine had never seen an older person except in pictures, which she supposed this was too, but different.  This one she could interact with.  “Hi, I’m Lorraine.  I work for the Ministry of-” at which point she was interrupted by the old woman on the other end of the connection.  “Let me guess.  You’re young, but not too young.  Close to moving up, but still in Twentytown.  Your Alvis shut down unexpectedly, and it won’t answer any of your requests.”  Lorraine looked into her drink, surprised.  How could she know all this? “Who are you?”  Lorraine asked.  “My name is Doris,” the older woman on the other end of her wrist-com said, “and I think I’m going to have to help you solve a murder.”  

     Lorraine assumed that Doris was a member of Sunset – Colony E.  Sunset was the last rung up the ladder of Colonies.  Once you got there, you’d completed your journey. Seeing as how travel between Colonies was only one way (up, never down, and never back), she didn’t understand how Doris could help her in any way.  So many questions. Almost as if she could read Lorraine’s mind, Doris spoke.  “Let me guess.  You know interactions between Colonies is forbidden.  You know travel is the same.  Well, newsflash kid,” Newsflash? That’s not a phrase Lorraine recognized.  “See, sometimes the Babysitters – sorry, the Kasparovs,” Lorraine could detect the sarcasm in Doris’ voice, “find something they don’t understand.  I’m from an older generation.  You might say I’m an outdated model if that makes you feel better.  But I remember the world before the Revolution.”  Lorraine had studied some of the history of pre-Revolution, but it fascinated her.  Animatedly, she spoke into her com “You did?  What was it like?  I’ve read it was a nasty, violent, socially intolerant place.”  Feeling like she was making a fool of herself, Lorraine slowed her speech before she spoke again.  “Everyone says I have an old soul, and I’m really interested in what it was like.”  

     Doris didn’t answer.  Doris figured it best if the kid didn’t know too much.  “We’re not going to be able to do this via com-link.  I’m going to have to come to you.”  Doris said. The look on Lorraine’s face when Doris said this was exactly what she expected, a mix of confusion and excitement.  “But travel isn’t allowed!  Interaction with different ages is forbidden.  How would you even get here?”  Lorraine was all at once animated again. She knew that Citizens understood when it was time to move up the ladder to the next Colony, but interaction between Colonies wasn’t something that was done.  Most people didn’t even think about the reasons as to why, because they were too busy living in the present.

     Doris spoke again.  “I’m scheduled to arrive there tomorrow night.  They won’t let me bring my wife so I’m hoping this doesn’t take too long.  I hate leaving her alone.”  At this Lorraine suggested “The rest of your collective will watch her, won’t they?”  “I don’t have a collective, kid.  One wife, that’s all.”  Lorraine had never met anyone with only a single partnup.  “How…” Lorraine didn’t know how to respond to this.  “It’s ok kid. You’d probably think it was quaint.  I guess in some ways it is. But, I maintain some nostalgia for the old ways.”  At this, Doris touched something on her wrist-com which sent instructions to Lorraine’s device.  “All you need to know is on there.  It tells you when I’m arriving and where I will meet you.  Oh, and you can’t tell your collective any of this. From now on you shouldn’t talk about duty in anything but a perfunctory way to them.” “Doris, why you?” Lorraine needed to know this.  “Because I used to be like you kid.  A detective.  Only back then, we had real crimes to solve.  Plus, I miss seeing young people. Sometimes.  Not often, mind you.”  Doris shut her wrist-com off.  Lorraine had a million questions, but she knew the comm code was probably disabled by now.  She would have to wait to see what happened next.  

 A Short Story in Multiple Parts

  Part 2

    When Lorraine and Jenna approached Rollie’s location, they could see the Kasparovs blocking the area, not forcefully, but in such a way as to divert attention from Rollie’s location instead of towards it.  This obfuscation technique was known to everyone who worked for the Order Maintenance Division, but to anyone else (Standard Citizens, Artmakers), it was almost imperceptible, the way the Kasparovs were able to motivate people to look the other way.  Of course, that was also because there was rarely any need to use the Obfuscation Technique, so most people didn’t recognize it when it happened to them.

     Lorraine and Jenna stood on the perimeter of the Kasparovs, received their retinal scans, and were allowed to enter the circumference.  Inside the circle was nothing they were prepared for.  “Rollie,” Lorraine said, looking down at the rookie, who was kneeling over the Citizen, “we’re here.”  Rollie looked up at the two women with something approaching fear.  “Lorraine…” Rollie stopped talking and stood up.  As he did so, Lorraine and Jenna both gasped aloud.  “What the stang?” Jenna cried, “Is that a cease?  That’s a cease!”  Lorraine put her hand on Jenna’s arm to calm her.  Lorraine looked at Rollie for what seemed a long time.  Then she asked Rollie in a firm voice “Rollie, did you move anything?”  “No, nothing” Rollie replied.  The three M.o.I. officers couldn’t help but observe the pooled blood.  “Did you find wounds?”  Lorraine asked.  Rollie was staring at the blood on the ground, wide-eyed.  “Did you find wounds?” Lorraine asked again, more forcefully this time.  “Yeah…knife.  This is a murder.” Rollie replied, barely audibly.  Lorraine turned her face to look at the sky.  The sun was a bright orange ball shining down, glinting here and there off the high-glass towers where most people lived.  There hadn’t been a live-death murder in over 13 years.

     Live-death murder was rare, but Lorraine knew the Medis would be thorough in their review of the body.  Lorraine was happy to have the machines.  She figured this would be easy.  The Kasparovs would take over, like they did with all advanced cases.  They can just organize mindgrabs.  Whoever has the murder in their mindgrab gets questioned.  Lorraine and her team get the satisfaction of having helped put a defective away.  

     Later that day, Lorraine punched up a command request on one of the ColonyVid machines at her station.  The Alvis presence appeared.  “Alvis,” Lorraine spoke into the Vid speaker, “tell me what happened this morning.”  As Lorraine waited for Alvis’ reply, she replayed the morning’s scene in her mind. The blood, the body, and the knife wound.  It could have been accidental, two Citizens playing with knives.  Accidents did happen, but if it was an accident, why weren’t there images?  Plus, most accidentals are easy to catch on a mindgrab, if they don’t come in on their own.  Accidents weren’t a crime.  But this didn’t feel like an accident.  Too much was wrong.  This disturbed her greatly.  “The victim’s name is Chase Millet, 29.”  29, a veteran.  Meant to move up soon.  “Alvis, was the victim killed in that alley?  Were you able to recover any fingerprints from the body?  And why did the ColonyVid not capture the crime?”  Alvis did not reply to Lorraine’s question.  “Alvis, please answer.  Do you need more time?  Alvis?”  Lorraine’s terminal shut itself down.  Lorraine stared at the blank screen in confusion.  Alvis was supposed to be available for commands at any time.  Lorraine reached around the back of the machine and turned it back on, and the face of Alvis appeared again.  “Alvis, why did you shut yourself off?  Please answer my question.” Alvis, the apparitional face on the screen, said nothing.  Lorraine waited a few moments, but the machine then shut itself off again.  “Jenna,” Lorraine said, poking her head up from her cube, “is your terminal working OK?”  “Mine’s fine,” Jenna replied. “Why, what’s going on?”  “I’m not certain I even know,” Lorraine said, slightly angrily.  “I think I’m going to go back to the scene.”
As Lorraine exited the Ministry, she punched up a code on her wrist-com.  James, one of her collective, answered and Lorraine could see his stubbled face. “James, listen.  I’m on my way to a crime scene,” she spoke into the machine, which made it look like she was talking to her hand.  James’ face lit up.  “Ooh, I just love it when something happens,” he said to her.  “There’s so little that ever goes on here.  Is it a big deal?”  Lorraine thought about this for a moment, her face screwed up.  Truthfully, she was still agitated that Alvis had shut down on her.  “Maybe I’ll tell you and the others when I return later.”  Not waiting for James’ reply, she shut her com off.  She didn’t really know why she had called him, since she knew she wasn’t allowed to talk about murders.  She had just wanted to hear a comforting voice.  

     As Lorraine was walking back to the crime scene (it was a beautiful day, after all) she marveled at how easy life was in the Colony most of the time.  All foods were available and free, Citizens were friendly with each other, and entertainment only cost time.  Most of her collective went out just recently to watch a couple of Artmakers perform, and they were thrilled by the musical performance.  One of the Artmakers covered an old standard,  “Luke Cage’s Theme” using only a rhythmachine and a bass module.  It was sparse and minimal, and she had thoroughly enjoyed the performance, although she still thought the original orchestral version was better.  

     She broke from her reverie as she reached the alley where the murder occurred.  It was completely clean.  Shadows were beginning to form off the angles of the buildings surrounding the alley, and one would never guess a crime had happened here.  She punched up Alvis on her wrist-com.  “Alvis, the scene has been scrubbed.  Do you have that information I asked for yet?”  Alvis’ face disappeared from her com at this request.  What popped up was a communications code, but one Lorraine had never seen before.  She’d never received an unknown comm code before.

End Part 2

A Short Story In Multiple Parts

     On the day before everything she believed in changed, she remembered that the clouds looked like ice floes seen in old VR image-texts.  The clouds were broken in the sky against the moon beautifully; a natural phenomena not to be awed by, but for some reason that evening, as she sat outside smoking on the balcony, this wholly common occurrence seemed weighted with potential.  

     The following morning, a voice came over the com-link.  “You’d better come see this”, Rollie said.  He sounded flustered, worried even.  “What?”, she replied, sure it wasn’t anything all that out of norm.  Rollie was new and prone to hyper-acuity, after all.  His tests confirmed this.  His inter-com cut out for a moment, then it picked back up and started again.  “There is a…situation.”  Lorraine sat back in her chair, the white plastic with leather contouring to her frame, especially her cybernetic left leg. She didn’t think about her leg often, having been born with a defected one, which was removed and replaced a few times during her growth spurts with fresh, shiny, nerve-connected plastic and metal legs.  Lots of people had better parts.  Truthfully, she barely noticed it.   She absentmindedly clicked off the textreader, where she had been reviewing an old document from the Racist days, something called Combahee River Collective Statement.  It seemed odd to her now that people used to have to live with those types of labels.  Punching up the response node on the com-link, she replied “Could you be more specific please?”  Of course, if something were all that interesting, the ColonyVid would have reported it.  “I don’t know how to describe it.”  Lorraine began to think Rollie might not be a good fit for duties.  “Someone passed out?  Warped?”  Warp overload was common in Twentytown, nothing to be alarmed about.  Just the populace enjoying their new vice.  “No boss.  Something else.  The Kasparovs are here”

     At that Lorraine stopped cold.  This wasn’t a Warp.  Kasparovs meant serious.  The defacto peacekeepers, the standard ‘bots, pretty much ran the policing in Twentytown – and everywhere else.  Karparovs were next level.  Lorraine had always assumed having humans on the job was some weird perfunctory role, people staying calm through duty. Because if the standard ‘bots couldn’t handle it, the Kasparovs did.  It wasn’t until later that she would come to view that idea as bizarre.   

     After the second Civil War of Ideologies, racial and sexual difference had finally been normalized, when it was finally accepted that people were all the same under the skin:  bags of meat, with the same internal organs and cancers, hormones and hungers.  Who you desired and who you connected with became more important than who you hated or feared.  Through a  series of pre-birth modification processes, the drives of humanity were isolated and corrected.  No longer would racial heritage warrant class division, hatred, or jealousy.  Sexual need was understood natural and not something to be feared.  Hatred was isolated and ‘fixed’ through scanning.  Corporate control of the populace was eradicated within a generation.  The human species could now progress free from the old systems of control, because what was discovered was that prejudice and repression weren’t inherited at birth, but through the process of accumulation.  The slogan on the front of each Ministry of Information building reinforced the Citizen Freeform tenet: “Our ancestors dreamed us up and then bent reality to create us.”

     As engineered babies replaced live births, the agreed-upon course of action was to isolate people by age range.  What was found through observation was that people, as they aged, accumulated more responsibilities, wealth, status, baggage.  Once it was decided that prejudices and restrictive laws designed to tell others what to do was a result of the fear of losing accumulated power and status, the Colonies, already an idea before that, were constructed.  

     Within a generation, all Citizens were divided by age.  Those under 20 were kept in Colony A.  Colony A included the birthing pens, developmental zones, and rebellious zones.  Colony A was the most divided of the Colonies, because of the massive shifts that occurred during development.  Most remembered it as 0-6, 7-11, 12-19, with plenty of ‘bot supervision.  When Citizens reached the age of 20, they went to Colony B, referred to as Twentytown.  Here, young adults were allowed to find duties, or be artists, or just hang around with others of their own age.  Auditory and visual stimulation were provided by the ‘bots, and by any humans interested in performing for others, but most people preferred to stay home with their collectives.  

     When it was found that people’s fear of their own sexuality and racial beliefs was constructed by repressive societal or parental teachings, those negative influences were removed.  Citizens became more comfortable in their own sexual desires, with sexuality becoming something to be celebrated, not hidden away for shame or fear.  This eventually led to the collectives, homes where 3,4, 5 or more people all lived together, male and female, and what went on between them was up to them.

     There were, of course, other Colonies after Twentytown, and Citizens could still learn about the past via their VR image-texters if they so desired.  All Citizens were also welcome to visit one of the many Ministries of Information, open all the time, but why?  Most of Twentytown primarily wanted to enjoy themselves.  Lorraine could see the beauty in that concept, but she herself liked duty and knowledge.  “I’m heading to you, Rollie,” she spoke into her com-link, “I have your location from your trackerpack.”  Lorraine stepped away from her cube and poked her head into one of the cubes near hers.  “Hey, Jenna,” she said, looking at a tall mocha woman in her mid-twenties, “Rollie says something weird is up.  It’s not on the ColonyVid but he seems freaked.  Come with me?”  Jenna turned, looked up at Lorraine and smiled.  “Sure.”  At this, Jenna stood up, grabbed her gear, and followed Lorraine over to the lifts.  Lorraine enjoyed Jenna’s company, and thought maybe she’d invite her over to her collective soon.

End Part 1