eagles were further proof of how far short of perfection the world still was. It was no laughing matter, that.
He had briefly wondered if her laughter constituted the 'unusual behavior' that he was supposed to report. He had decided that it was too risky to file a report. What if he was asked if he had nearly laughed?
Instead, he had stood up, so she could see that she was being observed from a different spot than usual. She had noticed him then, and stopped laughing. She had moved off, to work with the cattle under her care. He had never heard her laugh again. Part of him was proud of that; to know that his mere presence had forced a reassessment of behavior. Proper thought had won out, with him as its agent.
Through the fog of his dream, he heard the wind's howl acquire a strange insistent pounding. He tried to file it away as a large woodpecker drilling under the eaves again, but the effort failed. He clawed his way awake, and listened more coherently.
"Please, Citizen Officer, if you are there will you open the door? I need help," a woman said.
Renzo liked the idea of being sought out for help. It went especially well with his pride at having achieved Adult Minus One Round status. He abandoned the warmth of the bed and opened the door. There stood the cattle herder from across the river. She was windblown and pale, a bit wet from snow that had melted on her skin, and she was carrying a bow. Renzo wasn't sure what to do.
"My Informers have failed, and wolves have attacked the herd, and I can't find out what to do without my Informers. If you could report that I need instruction and perhaps replacement Informers? Unless, of course, you have a better plan?" she said.
Renzo had no better plan. For that matter, he had no plan at all. The woman had tossed too much impossibility at him at once. There was also something about her person that was disorienting.
"Or, perhaps you can get this to work?" the woman asked as she held an Informer out to him.
He took it and tried to turn it on. It stayed dead.
"My heater is not working, either. Or the lights. Somehow my power supply has failed, or that it what it looks like," the woman said. "I am not bred or trained to understand such things very well. But perhaps, in the meantime, your charger would charge my Informer enough for it to work?"
Renzo recovered his composure enough to invite her inside. He took her Informer to his charging stand, and with a little trepidation (it felt dangerous to take his own back-up Informer off the charger) he set hers in the stand. No lights went on. He tried his again, hoping that the problem was somehow restricted to his neighbor's equipment. No lights. Alarmed, he went to his heater. It was cold, dull, and dead.
A warning message flashed on the Informer he'd taken from his charging stand: "Make sure that this device is seated properly in the stand. Failure to do so will result in failure to charge. It is a criminal offense to have an uncharged Informer in your possession." He'd never seen that message before, probably because he was meticulous about his Informers.
He fished his other Informer from his pocket. It was less than half charged. He felt a sudden aversion to using it. As a responsible Citizen Officer, he should ration its use, if power to restore it wasn't available.
Besides, if he used it, he would have to report that he was a criminal. That is what the fading Informer said: "It is a criminal offense to have an uncharged Informer in your possession."
He started to hand the woman's uncharged Informer back to her, to save himself, but it didn't seem right to do so.
"What is wrong?" the woman asked.
He mutely showed her the warning message on his fading Informer. As she read, that Informer died. Renzo froze. Now they were both in trouble. It was through no fault of his, which somehow made it worse.
When climbing up the hill, Julia had fought off waves of terror that splashed at her from both directions. Washing at her heels were wolves, and dead and maimed cattle for which she would have to answer, and the fact that she had acted without authorization, plus the inexplicable long-term loss of power which might accidentally have been her fault (how was she to know?). Ahead of her was the unknown, as well as a Citizen Officer, whose whims could seal her fate, if she wasn't careful, and lucky. (How glad she'd been, when given this assignment, to get away from the dangers of interacting with roommates and neighbors – possible false informants all – although of course she would never say so.)
When she had reached the birdwatcher's quarters, and there hadn't been a ready answer to her knocking, she'd been both frightened and relieved.
When the birdwatcher had shown up at the door looking tousled from sleep but self-important, it had almost been too much. She'd successfully fought off an urge to laugh out loud, but had instead blurted her troubles in a manner that was nothing like her careful rehearsals coming up the hill.
And now, after investigating the situation, the birdwatcher was just standing there, looking as scared and befuddled as she felt.
"Your power is disabled, too? How can that be?" she asked.
"I am not sure."
"Do you think war might have started?"
Renzo stared at her. War was even more impossible than anything else that he could bring to mind. Who would the enemy be? Everyone worked for the government these days.
Julia regretted getting him sidetracked. "I am sorry. I am not thinking clearly. I will readjust my thinking," she said. "But I have never had this sort of difficulty with the power. I have not been taught how it works, or what troubleshooting steps to take in case of continuing malfunction. Ordinarily, I would use my Informer to get instructions, but I cannot do that just now. Have you been trained in such matters?"
Renzo remembered a control box, with switches to be flipped. He went to it, and found the switches turned the wrong way. He flipped them back on. The charger lights came on. Renzo put his dead Informer in the charging seat. He was rewarded with the usual charging-in-progress message.
"You should do the same at your quarters, perhaps?" he said.
Julia hesitated. "If our systems are tied together, perhaps you have fixed the problem at my quarters?"
"I do not think our systems are tied together, exactly. I think they might have the same source, though. I am not sure," Renzo said, meaning to be useful, but instead driving home in his own mind that he had no idea what would cause his breakers to break, much less what would cause the herder's breakers to break at the same time.
"Since you are authorized to manipulate control switches, perhaps you could come down, or teach me what to do?" Julia said, studiously avoiding mention of the usual course of action, which would be to call in on a working Informer and find out officially what to do. Until the Informers were recharged, they ran the risk of being taken up as criminals, after all.
Renzo noticed the omission, and was quick enough to understand the problem. He didn't like it, though.
Noticing his hesitation, and fearing where it might lead, Julia said, "Perhaps I have not spoken clearly. I am not specifically authorized to access the control box, but I am under orders to not report unanticipated deviations from the Plan unless I cannot bring the situation in line with the Plan in a timely manner. I wish only to realign the situation in accordance with what is expected, if it is possible to do so. I cannot ascertain if it is possible, until an attempt is made to remedy the anomaly."
This had a wonderful effect on Renzo. He, too, was expected to not make the Plan (or his superiors) look bad at secondhand by putting an excessive number of unfortunate happenings on record.
He took his gun in hand – he never went outside without it – and escorted Julia down the hill. He suffered a pang of doubt when they got to the bridge. To cross would mean entering another jurisdiction. Ordinarily, he shouldn't do that without permission. He tried to think how he would word his request, if he called to ask for permission. No perfect phrasing presented itself.
"I consider myself fortunate to have a Citizen Officer nearby who can assist me in restoring proper order under these unprecedented conditions, in an unpop
ulated area. Much credit to Greenley the Third," Julia said.
It was the proper attitude, Renzo thought. He marshaled forward.
Shortly after they crossed the bridge, Julia scurried partway up a tree. "I am just seeing if I can see where the wolves are, if they are still around," she said. "Oh, there is a group of them still at the second dead cow. We shall not have to worry about them for a while." She turned to look at her hut. "I cannot be certain about the area around my quarters. It is possible that some are behind it, but that seems unlikely," she said. "It looks clear, in the areas I can see."
Watching Julia walk and clamber, wolves had slipped Renzo's mind. He did not wish to say so. He tried to look steady and unperturbed.
Julia climbed down, and notched an arrow in her bow. She was careful to convey a sense of being authorized to shoot on her own authority. Renzo, responding to the aura of official sanction, improved the grip on his rifle, and indicated that he was ready to follow wherever she led.
Julia felt that Renzo should lead the rest of the way, but didn't mention it, for fear of offending him. She led the way to her hut.
Renzo quietly noted the dead wolves, including the grown one with an arrow still in it. He took this as further proof that his companion was operating within extended, but proper, authority.
The breakers, as expected, had shut off. He reset