When the Tommy Cops took Lyric Tyne to court, the judge agreed to release her on her own recognizance, but the prosecutor insisted on one condition. She would need to download the Police Dog app on her IntelliPhone. The software kept her under constant surveillance. It monitored her calls, emails, and messaging, and eavesdropped on her live conversations. The app could override anything on her phone. A barking dog CGI appeared on the screen and then a stern automated voice ordered her to stop doing what the AI had flagged her for.
The terms of her bail said she’d need to keep her phone charged and close at hand at all times. If the app went off when she was part way through a live voice-over, it was certain to cause problems. Not only embarrassment, but she hadn’t told the general manager about the charges. She hoped she could get the case resolved without him finding out about it. Her on air image was cool and laid back, and she worked at keeping her growing anxiety under control. So it wouldn’t show when the automated program keyed her mic.
She finished her shift and pulled out of the radio station parking lot on her motorcycle. The bike had a hybrid engine, it could run on hydrogen fuel cells or gasoline. The motor performed better on hydrogen but gasoline, though an archaic fuel, was cheaper in New Cali. Easier to find, too.
Lyric had an appointment at an attorney’s office. She didn’t want to be late, and when she opened up the bike’s throttle on the crowded freeway, the Police Dog app went off. First, the barking dog, then the automated voice: “Suspect is exceeding the posted speed limit by 7 mph!”
She let off on the throttle and moved into the slow lane. She felt beads of perspiration blossoming behind her helmet’s visor as she kept an eye on the rear-view mirror. Would the Tommy Cops appear to take her back to jail? It had been her first time behind bars, and the thought of going back scared the daylights out of her.
A few moments later, two Tommy Cops in a black and white came up behind her, but the replicants stayed in the fast lane and passed her by. What a relief.
Because it was a felony case, lawyers she contacted wanted more money than she could afford to pay. If she was unable to retain an attorney, she’d need to apply for an automated public defender. Or leave New Cali.
Erwin Duhl seemed like her last chance. He practiced law in a ratty looking two-story office building. In a neglected section of the city, not from the Wall. You could see the imposing structure from his office window. Solid concrete thirty feet tall, topped with rolls of electrified concertina wire. Nowhere City was on the other side. An infrequent series of gates the only way through.
The crossings were secured by Tommy Cops. It was relatively easy to pass if you were bound for Nowhere City. As long as you weren’t wanted by the law. But crossing back into New Cali was a different story. The Tommy Cops didn’t let just anyone through. Why would someone want to travel to Nowhere City in the first place? Unless you were looking to buy syntho-bliss from a dust biker or maybe trying to hire a hitman.
Duhl wore a mustard yellow tie and black suit with visible stains from spilled food. His long, greasy hair was combed straight back, and his breath smelled bad, like onions and garlic. He had an air of sleaze. The lawyer skimmed through the discovery information that she’d brought along silently, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head. Finally, he set the paperwork down on his desk and sat back in his chair.
“To put it bluntly, you’re in serious trouble, Ms. Tyne.”
“Because I made a couple of mistakes at the self-serve checkout?”
“The store’s surveillance software has collected enough evidence to charge you with hundreds of counts of theft. Though each individual act represents misdemeanor shoplifting, combined it’s enough to indict you for grand theft and fraud. As a result, the Directorate has charged you with engaging in an ongoing pattern of criminality. The government is alleging you’re a habitual offender.”
“Because I entered the wrong code for my tomatoes?”
“Yes. As I said, the frequency of transactions is what makes it so serious.”
“If I simply plead guilty, what happens?”
“I strongly advise you not to go that route.”
“If I do, what’s the likely outcome?”
“The judge will sentence you to prison.”
“For how long?”
“Your lack of a previous record weighs in your favor so it’s likely the judge would choose the low end of sentencing guidelines. For the grand theft and fraud, the statute calls for anywhere from 2 to 15 years, but the habitual criminal enhancement puts it in the 5 to life range. My guess is you would get 5 to 7, but don’t hold me to that estimate.”
Lyric was stunned. “Can you fight the charges?”
“With what defense? When they have so much evidence?”
“I can’t go to prison.”
“If you retain me, I’ll do my best to cut a deal with the prosecution. If you promise to make restitution by paying the grocery store for the food you’ve stolen, I may be able to get a lighter jail sentence. Maybe a few months, but I can’t guarantee anything. That would be unethical.”
Lyric thought the lawyer looked about as ethical as a back alley con artist, and the amount he quoted for a retainer was still too much. It wasn’t as much as the others had wanted, but it was money she simply didn’t have. The cost of living in New Cali had gone up steadily for years, but her paychecks at KNEX remained the same. That’s how she’d developed her bad habit of deceiving the self-serve kiosk at the grocery store. Because she could barely afford to eat.
Lyric didn’t know what to do next. She needed time to think things out, but her preliminary hearing was only a week away. From what she’d heard, the automated public defenders were deliberately programmed to be inept, so she was reluctant to go that route. But at the same time, the prospect of going before a judge on her own terrified her.
The next day, the KNEX general manager said he needed to have a few words with her when she finished her shift. In addition to managing the station, Bob Brownsmith handled sales accounts with his Slick Sales Software. The station’s wealthy owner, Sandy Libretti, had fired the animate sales help. It was like a game of musical chairs at KNEX. Every time the music stopped, another job went to automation.
Lyric met with Brownsmith in his office. A middle-aged man in a lime-green polo shirt. The view from his window was dominated by the roof of a data center, a massive server farm as big as four football fields. She could tell from his demeanor that he had bad news, but she knew he’d try to butter her up with a compliment before he broke it to her. Like any shrewd salesman, and her prediction proved accurate.
“I was listening in this morning, and you sounded great as always, Lyric.”
“Thanks, Bob.”
“I was on the phone with Sandy earlier and she said she received word from the Tommy Cops that you were arrested a few days ago…Is that true, Lyric?”
She realized she was about to get canned. “Yes, it is.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
“They caught me scamming the self-serve checkout at the grocery store.”
“Scamming the self-serve checkout? How does that work?”
“I was entering lower priced codes for higher priced items. Putting hot house tomatoes on the scale and entering the code for the cheaper Roma tomatoes instead.”
“And you’ve been doing this for a while I gather.”
“Yes, I have, for a few years.”
“Why?”
“To save money. Everything has become so expensive.”
“Uh huh. I’m surprised the machines didn’t catch on sooner.”
“They have now.”
“I talked to Sandy at length. She’s been wanting to try out a new AI air personality program that’s guaranteed to fool the listeners. You know, make them think they’re listening to a real person.” He sat back in his chair and gazed out the window at the rows of air conditioning compressors on the roof of the data center. Then he turned back towards her. “In any event, Lyric, she’s decided to let you go.”
“Okay.”
“You can pick up your last check from the security replicant at the front door.”
“Sure, Bob.” She rose from her seat.
“And Lyric?” he added as she was leaving the room. “Make sure to take everything you own with you, because if you set foot inside the KNEX building again, Sandy said she’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”
Lyric pulled out of the parking lot on her motorcycle for the last time. She was doing her best to keep her emotions under control. Seven years of work at the radio station and Libretti had thrown her out on the street. She was already living paycheck to paycheck and now her difficult life had grown much worse.
Finding another job in New Cali would be close to impossible. The unemployment rate was over 50% and now she had an arrest record. She could apply for UBI, but it wouldn’t be enough to pay the bills. The apartment she shared with Joyce was small and over-priced and if she couldn’t pay the rent, it wouldn’t take long to get kicked out.
What then? A cardboard box in Nowhere City?
She rode to her apartment and began going through her belongings, figuring out what she could carry in the panniers on her bike. A couple of changes of clothes, toiletries, jewelry, irreplaceable keepsakes, a sleeping bag…She’d have to abandon a lot of her stuff.
She wrote a note for Joyce to explain things and told her to go ahead and rent the bedroom to someone else.
Joyce was a longtime friend she knew she could trust, but she didn’t say much about where she was going, and the truth was, Lyric didn’t know where she was headed anyway. She only knew one thing for certain…She had to get out of New Cali.
She couldn’t go east because she would need to cross the Wall and besides the possibility of getting picked up by the Tommy Cops, it would mean riding through Nowhere City, not a good idea for a woman travelling by herself, it could lead to trouble.
So she headed for the coast. When she reached the beaches, she found a place to park. Lyric had grown up in New Cali, and she wanted to take one last look at the ocean before she left. She was a strong swimmer and learned how to surf as a teen, but her visits to the beach had grown less frequent. The water and air pollution was out of control and the last time she was on a surfboard she’d encountered an oil slick on the surface of the ocean.
She slipped off her shoes, left them with the bike, and began walking towards the breaking surf. Scores of oil derricks dominated the view along the shoreline. Many rose up out of the sand, others were a mile or two out to sea. She could see the refineries to the south as well, and a stagnant cloud of yellowish-brown smog laid heavy overhead.
Gasoline and diesel fuel were New Cali’s chief exports, most of it sold to Asia. It was how the wealthy elite made their money. Renewables had fallen out of favor, and the solar panels and wind turbines had been torn down. Satirical slang names for the beach towns followed, Rigondo Beach, Santa Monoxide, and Smoghattan Beach.
As she walked towards the water, the Police Dog app went off. The barking canine and then a Tommy Cop appeared on the screen. It was a desk sergeant, identical to the rest except for the additional stripes on his sleeve. “It’s come to our attention that you lost your job, Ms. Tyne. You must be employed to comply with the terms of your bail. Return to police headquarters immediately.”
Lyric threw her IntelliPhone as far as she could. She watched the expensive phone hit the breaking surf and disappear, then she hurried back to her motorcycle, climbed on, and started the engine.
She rode north on the coastal highway. The New Cali border was only a few miles past Santa Monoxide. The Tommy Cops stopped incoming traffic at a check station, but outbound vehicles weren’t monitored, and she barely slowed down when she came to the border. Lyric was tempted to flip her middle finger at the replicants as she flew by, but her better judgement told her not too.
Once she’d passed through, she opened the throttle and kept an eye on the rear-view mirror, but the robots weren’t following. After a few more miles she slowed down to a reasonable speed.
Lyric had traded smog-choked New Cali for the clear blue skies of the federal bureaucracy, but it didn’t mean her life was carefree now. She had limited money and wasn’t sure the Directorate’s currency was worth anything anyway in the sparsely populated region she’d entered. She’d need to stay on the lookout for dust bikers and keep her wits about her.
It was slow going on the winding coastal highway. When she saw the Eden Stacks on the horizon, she decided to head inland. Passing through the independent city states along the coast could be problematic. Mellowbreak Beach might have an extradition arrangement with New Cali, and they could be looking for her. So instead, she crossed the coastal mountains. At the top of the divide, she passed by a burnt-out gasoline powered sedan that looked like it had been involved in a bad accident.
She rode on and avoided Shakersville when she saw it in the distance. The road across the desert was in poor condition, and she slowed down when she came to the frequent drifts of dust. She reached a junction with a dilapidated freeway and saw a line of self-driving transports headed towards the north-east. The trucks meant there were people somewhere off in the distance. How far off she didn’t know, but sooner or later she’d need to find a new home. A place where she could make new friends and start over.
Lyric followed a convoy of transports for a few hours. Finally, she came to a high point in the desert where she could see the Big Abandonado in the distance, the towers of the forsaken hotel district rising up from the floor of the arid basin. It was one of the inland cities that New Cali had cut off, after the river was put in a pipeline. She didn’t know how many people still lived there, but she was almost out of gas.
As she rode closer, she could see that the city was for the most part deserted. Scores of abandoned housing developments and strip malls, and the road was in horrible condition. Her motorcycle’s motor began sputtering as it ran out of fuel. She coasted it under an overpass and did her best to conceal it behind an abutment.
She began walking, hoping she would find someone who could help her. It appeared to be a ghost town, but when she crested the overpass, she found tire tracks in the dust. She followed them towards the east. She walked for a couple of miles, and before long, she’d drained the last of the water from the container she’d brought along.
The tire tracks led her to a gate that was part of a fortified fenceline. Above it was a sign with the words: Blue Springs Geo-Thermal Power Generating Station. A placard next to the gate said, “Check in Here,” and an arrow pointed to a button. She pressed it, and a screen lit up with abstract graphic art. An automated voice said: “Good afternoon. State the reason for your visit, please.”
“I need help. My motorcycle ran out of fuel on the freeway.”
Jody responded instantly: “Logan will be with you momentarily.”
□□□
Logan was working on an underground level beneath the control room. The generating equipment needed regular maintenance, and he cleaned dust out of the alternators with compressed air and checked the connections for corrosion and wear. Jody called him on the intercom system. The individual sections of the power station were wired for communication. “A visitor has arrived at the gate.”
“Who is it?”
“An unknown party.”
“What’s the unknown party look like, Jody?”
“A rather attractive young lady. She said she ran out of gas and needs help.”
“Okay, I’ll be up there shortly. Let her know I’m coming.”
Logan laid down the tools he’d been using and wiped his hands off with a rag. He walked up three flights of stairs to the control room and sat down behind the display monitor. Jody brought up the view from the camera at the gate. The young woman standing outside it looked awfully worried.
“Hey there. I’m Logan Writt. You need help with something?”
She was overwhelmed with relief to hear a friendly human voice. “Hi, Logan. My name’s Lyric Tyne. My motorcycle ran out of gas on the freeway. Would it be possible for you to help me out?”
“Of course I’ll help you. I’ll walk out there to let you in. Give me a couple of minutes.”
“Thank you so much.”
Logan was wary of dust biker ploys to get inside the gate and needed to make sure Lyric was genuine. He clicked off the intercom and had a few words with Jody: “Analyze my interaction with Lyric Tyne. Is she sincere about what she said?”
“Body language and voice patterns indicate honesty and she also appears dehydrated.”
“Are you detecting any other actors in the vicinity of the gate, animate or machine?”
“Negative, Logan.”
“Should I trust her?”
“Affirmative.”
He grabbed a bottle of cold water and walked out to the gate to let her in. Logan trusted first impressions and as he approached, he knew Jody was right. She appeared trustworthy, and he didn’t hesitate to open the gate.
“My AI said you look thirsty,” he said, handing her the water bottle as she walked through.
“Thank you.” She drained half the bottle in no time. It was dry as a bone in the Big Abandonado and blistering hot in the midday sun.
“Where’d you run out of fuel?” said Logan as they walked up the drive towards the station.
“On the freeway…Or what’s left of the freeway,” with a nervous laugh. “I coasted it under an overpass. Couple of miles from here.”
“What type of fuel does your bike use?”
“It’s a hybrid. Gasoline or hydrogen cells.”
“I have plenty of hydrogen. A friend of mine synthesizes it here in town.”
“The city looks deserted. How many people live here?”
“Not many at all.”
“You have water, then?”
“Yes. The aquifer is still producing well water.”
“I really appreciate your help.”
“Nothing to it. I’ll grab some fuel cells and give you a ride to your motorcycle.”
“I can pay you for the fuel.”
“Don’t worry about it. I have lots to spare.”
“Thanks again, Logan.”
He started the echo-pulse cruiser and Lyric climbed in on the passenger side.
“So, where’re you headed?” said Logan as they passed through the gate.
“I’m not really sure to tell you the truth.”
“Problems in New Cali?”
“Yes.”
They reached Lyric’s bike. After she loaded the fuel cells and started it up, Logan noticed the worried expression had returned to her face. She looked downright scared. Like life had dealt her a losing hand and his intrinsic goodwill towards others told him he should offer her more help. “If you follow me back to the station, I’ll make you something to eat.”
“I don’t want to trouble you.”
“No trouble at all. My friends Myles and Harmony are turning abandoned golf courses into farms. We have plenty of food.”
“That sounds good. I haven’t eaten anything since this morning.”
“Myles and Harmony are looking for help.”
“Doing farm work?”
“Yup. And refurbishing houses so everyone has a place to live.”
“I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“What type of work do you do?”
“I was a radio station air personality. I did mornings at KNEX in New Cali.”
“Cool. But you’re not doing that anymore?”
“They replaced me with AI.”
“Well, that stinks…So that’s why you left New Cali?”
“Yeah. Pretty much.”
Logan could see she was in good physical shape. She’d hiked a good stretch through the desert to reach the power plant. She was obviously tough, too. Traveling across the desert solo on a motorcycle took guts. “That’s a nice bike. You must have experience with motorcycles.”
“Yeah, I’ve been riding since I was 16. I can work on them too.”
“Any experience with firearms?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. My brother taught me how to shoot for self-defense. I have a pistol in my pannier.”
Logan smiled. “I have another job you might be interested in. Pays better than the farm work.”
“What’s the job?”
“Security escort. Myles and I are making deliveries with transport trucks. Long distance.”
“That sounds interesting.”
“There’s danger involved, but I can pay you well.”
Instead of making dinner at the power station, Logan took her over to meet Myles and Harmony. Lyric clicked with Harmony instantly.
“I have the perfect place for you to stay. We’re refurbishing houses at a new farm and one of the places has guest quarters. It’s a cute little one bedroom that I know you’ll like.”
“I really appreciate the help. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. Everyone here has been so nice.”
Harmony could see the emotion welling up in Lyric’s eyes, and she gently laid her hand on her shoulder. “You’re among friends now, don’t worry about a thing. We need good people to help us rebuild.”
After Logan had gone, Harmony climbed on her ATV and Lyric followed her to the guest house on her bike. Hodgett and his crew had furnished it after Jody turned on the power and water. She took a shower and marveled at her good fortune as she settled into her new bed. It was a stroke of luck running out of gas at the overpass, because it had led to her finding the power station. And what an exceptional man she had met there. Cool, kind-hearted, and handsome too. Fate moves in mysterious ways, she thought as she drifted off to sleep.