The soldier hesitated, seeing someone interpose himself between him and his target. “Move, citizen. SIC reports this to be her third infraction.”
John felt a chill course down his spine. Subcutaneous Information Chips were imbedded in everyone these days, just below the skin of a person’s hip. The chip can be scanned by army personnel from up to a hundred meters away by a computer attached to the soldier’s rifle. Just point the rifle at a subject, and the SIC uploads all the data regarding that person to a small HUD in the soldier’s helmet visor.
The law stated that a third infraction—of any sort—could be met with lethal force. It took the old “Three Strikes and You’re Out” law to new heights of judge, jury, and executioner. Soldiers no longer had to make arrests on third infractions. They could kill on sight. Indeed, they were encouraged to do so under the belief that the rest of the populace would be warned off against committing any crimes.
“Are you certain?” John asked, trying to buy time.
“SIC doesn’t lie. This is her third infraction.”
“Listen—”
“Please move,” the soldier interrupted, now aiming his gun right at John. “You are in violation of the Penal Reduction Act, Section A. No citizen shall interfere with an authorized action in accordance to the Act. This is your first infraction, John Dale. I will warn you only once more before I am authorized to shoot.”
Lorna gasped and John waved a hand at her to keep her in place. The woman who had so brazenly stolen the bread huddled behind the table, her eyes darting every which way like a caged animal.
“You got this wrong, soldier. I gave her the bread. She didn’t steal it.”
John hated lying. He felt it bad policy, but he couldn’t stand by and let this soldier execute the woman. He couldn’t see past the soldier’s darkly tinted helmet visor, but the voice sounded young. He hoped the man didn’t relish shooting people.
“What?” The gun wavered uncertainly.
“I waved her over and allowed her to take some. She’s hungry, soldier. And I can afford to absorb the cost of the bread.”
“I never saw you wave her over,” the soldier protested.
“And do you see everything, private? That G-class helmet has a peripheral view rating of only 60%. Your HUD blocks out about 12% of your vision when activated. Are you telling me that you know for certain?”
“How—”
“My SIC doesn’t have all the information about me. I’m going to reach into my pocket and pull out my identification. Please don’t shoot.”
The soldier tightened his grip, but didn’t place his finger on the trigger as John reached in and pulled out an identification card. He held it up so the scope of the rifle could reach the chip imbedded in the card.
It took a moment for the soldier to realize what he was reading. His rifle slid down to his chest and he stood erect and saluted. “Sorry, Captain!”
John allowed his voice to harden. “I think this should be a lesson for you. You know who I am now. You know what I do. I do the really nasty stuff, so unless you want to be busted down to latrine cleaner for the rest of your life, you will not get so trigger happy in the future. Am I understood?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Let’s pretend for a moment that this woman had stolen the bread. Would you have shot her? A defenseless woman?”
“A criminal is a criminal, sir. You know the law.”
“Are you pretending to know what I know, solider?”
“No! I—”
“Shut up! I want your name, rank, and serial number. If I ever hear of your itchy trigger finger again, I’ll have you brought up on charges. Understood?”
The young man was visibly trembling. “Yes, sir!”
John walked up so that his nose was about a millimeter from the man’s helmet visor. He tore the man’s rifle from his body, breaking the strap in the process. “I’ll take this. You can explain to your CO how you lost your weapon. Now get out of here!”
The man left rapidly.
Shaking his head, John pulled the clip out and cleared the chamber. He then erased the computer’s memory for the last thirty minutes. Let the solider try to explain what had happened. Captain John Dale was a ghost. He didn’t exist as far as the army was concerned—or at least the rank and file. The solider or the soldier’s CO would not find any information regarding him. No doubt the hapless solider would be reprimanded strongly, but that’s what you get for wanting to shoot helpless women.
Shaking his head, he tossed the weapon on the floor after removing the firing pin. He walked back to the table where Lorna studied him with a look of trepidation. She was biting her lip, the only nervous habit John had ever detected from her. The dirty woman was still standing near the table, her mouth covered in bread crumbs. She eyed John like a deer caught in headlights.
He waved towards the waiter who stood in the shadows watching. “Hey, you! Get this woman something to eat. I’ll pay for it.” The waitress bowed and hastened over. She showed the woman to another seat. John called after the woman. “I wouldn’t stay too long. When that soldier gets back, you won’t want to be here.” She nodded, her eyes grateful. “Oh, and I would be careful from now on. The next time you are caught, they will shoot you.” The woman’s eyes shifted away and John knew that his warning had fallen on deaf ears. Desperate people just didn’t care.
Lorna stood up and came over to him. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be here either when they get back.”
“Agreed.
They paid for the food and left.
“Our society has become inhuman,” Lorna said as they walked away.
“Wild, you mean. We’re still human. We’ve just let the baser human parts dominate.”
They both fell silent as they walked. They walked nowhere in particular, and soon found themselves making a wide circle. They were approaching a jewelry store when a single shot sounded from within in. A body tumbled out of the open doorway and lay face up on the sidewalk. A woman. Half her head had been shot out, and a pool of blood began gathering under her. In her right hand, she clutched a necklace of pearls.
It was the same woman who had stolen their bread.
Another solider stepped out from the store, assault rifle aimed at the woman. “Target down,” he said. “Third infraction. Theft. Eliminated under the Penal Reduction Act.”
Neither John nor Lorna said a word as they walked by.
That night, John got a call from the Pentagon recalling him to active duty. His lucrative business deal would have to wait. The government insisted. They always did.