The constable leant further towards me as he spoke.
“It was a good try, but it will always go to the closest outpost first. Lucky for me that I could cancel it on the console.”
“Why are you doing this?”
The constable didn’t reply. Thoughts about the bloody mess of XO were plastered across my mind.
“My friend, he needs help, he can’t make it like that. You have to help him. He’s an ultra veteran, he’s never done anything wrong.”
The officer sighed.
“Listen, kid, I’m going to start asking you some questions. And this time, if I don’t like your response. I’m going to give you the stick, it’s going to be a lot of pain. Ok?”
He used the handcuffs to chain me to a table leg I tried to resist but he was a lot stronger than me.
“Why can’t I see your information.”
“I’m upper management.”
The constable clocked me round the head with his baton.
“Some questions I know the answers, some I do not. It is not your job to figure out which, it is your job to tell me the whole truth, so we can both be happy.”
“.....”
“I’ll let you out alive, and if you tell me faster your friend can get the help he sorely needs.”
“It’s just a bug. My name is Joe blogs, It’s just because of my name, they thought it was test data and threw it out.”
I was clocked again round the side of the head. After that, he brought out a knife and planted it onto the table along with what looked like salt and soy sauce.
“What the fuck!?” I shouted. The constable looked annoyed.
“Are you telling me, your name is really Joe Blogs?”
“Yes, It’s my fucking name. What else would you want to hear?”
“Did you go to school with XO?”
“Yes, we are friends from school.”
“Then why is there no record of someone named Joe Blogs ever existing in that school, this area or even this city.”
“I don’t know!!”
“Alright, kid. I’m a bit rusty at this, but we’re going to kick it up a notch.” He smacked me in the face with the baton.
The hit he gave me wasn’t that bad, but cut my lip on my teeth and spat out a little blood and pretended to collapse.
In the moments that this gave me I tried to think. The chain of the cuffs was grating on the table leg. They were an old-fashioned idea not used much today. Not with these 19th-century chains. Things were normally manufactured to a better quality. Cables instead of chains, the sort of metal cables that were now common in the automation industry, was practically unbreakable. But he was using the old fashioned style with a chain that would shake as he moved.
I had even seen videos about how these old chains could be broken just by spinning them into a Knott and putting in a bit of leverage.
As I had my head on the table and under it I slowly circled the chain, moving it around itself into a rigid chainy ball.
The constable lightly slapped my cheek a couple of times.
“Get up kid,”
He brought out a knife.
“What the fuck man,” I cried.
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“How did you hack the system.”
“I don’t know how to hack anything!”
He went to grab my head and moved to cut off an ear as went for the cut I broke through the chain. I fell backwards out of his grasp, a tuft of hair still in his hand. Just before I ran I caught a glance of the bewildered expression on the constable’s face.
I ran for the door, seeing it automatically open once again. As I went down the ally I started hearing the sound of a helicopter coming in through the walls. When I went to the doors I found them shut and locked, every exit to this place was closed down.
I thought about the roof. There was a landing pad on all these places, maybe the people in the helicopter could help. Maybe they were working against me with the constable. I closed my mind to the negative thoughts as I ran in panic.
The sound of helicopters grew louder as I ran almost blurring the sound of footsteps chasing after me, the constable. I raced up the steps, finally reaching the door.
I opened the door and was blinded by lights. I felt a shocking pain in my back and realized a taser had shot into my spine. I collapsed to the floor, my consciousness fading out as both men in riot gear and suits flooded the scene.
I woke up slightly to one of these men in a suit. He had given me a blanket and a drink. My parents were next to them.
“My, my friend. I think he’s still downstairs, I think there’s still a chance,” I murmured.
A few moments later, I heard “teenage casualty,” echo from one of the officers in the helicopter with us. After a signal from one of the men with us, the copter started to leave.
I saw the constable on the floor a gunshot wound visible in his chest as if from a high powered rifle.
“Holy shit.”
…...
The helicopter moved in silence before landing on a skyscraper-like building, my mother looked into my grief-ridden eyes and held my hand.
“It’ll be alright.”
After landing a woman in a suit directed me to the door. The way into an open room, walls of mostly glass adorning the sides.
“Please take a seat, the director will be with you shortly.”
“What happened to zero, is he ok?”
My father looked at me with a grim expression and my heart lurched. I felt cold.
“He was confirmed dead at the scene.”
A tired man walked quickly into the room, adjusting his tie as he went.
“Mr Blogs I assume.” He said reaching out to shake my hand.
“Hi,”
“So, let’s cut to the chase. We have been recently made aware of your unique situation. This cannot be rectified due to numerous global agreements and the system itself having been set in place by the GCT. Whom as you are likely aware is a highly secluded organisation that balances all corporate global influence.
This means that you specifically are the sole person, on this planet capable of bypassing the restrictions overall GCT balanced securities including but not exclusive to, Saraha and all Sahara ultra subsidiaries.”
“Yeah, I noticed…”
“As such, we have unfortunately had to remove all information specific to you, including school records, applications, cloud gaming profiles and even birth records.
Further, we will now need to move you to a secure facility for an indefinite amount of time. Please be aware this is for both your safety and ours. We understand that this may come as a shock to you but I assure you this is in your best interest.”
He waited for some sort of response as if he expected acceptance or a simple question about the process. Instead, the situation created a slow bubbling of rage.
“I don’t give a shit about any of that!” I burst.
The man was taken back, unable to react as if this was the first time anyone had spoken to him like that as if it was the most illogical thing I could have said.
“I want to know why the fuck, my closest and oldest friend is now dead!”
“What?” he replied.
“Brutally beaten and murdered by one of your chief officers. His blood is still etched into the back of my mind, the smell filling up my nose and you just talk to me about this?! About my fucking school records?”
I was crying now, uncontrollably. The reality of everything seeming to hit me just now. The man opposite me seemed to panic slightly, checking around him he motioned for the suit waring security to talk to him.
“I…. Have not been given all the information… Please bear with me.”
The man got from his seat to walk out of the room, a few moments later he walked in looking a bit more worse for wear.
“Sorry, I was not aware of the specifics of what brought you here today. The constable was shot directly through the chest. It seems that due to a situation with misconduct having him removed from office, he was wishing to take advantage of whatever method you used to his own advantage.
The situation has been dealt with.”
“I saw he was shot through the chest.”
“Yes…”
….
“The international and Omega news agencies are already running a piece on it. They labelled it as the corrupt officials of Sahara indiscriminately killing children. Obviously, this is bad for public relations and substantially affects the moral capital we held of the reputation of competitors such as glass.”
It was pretty common knowledge that the large costs involved in stopping or even slowing the “manufacturing” process, meant there is a surplus in basically everything. Manufacturing a new better phone doesn’t benefit Sahara because it’s still the Sahara people spending the same money they would have spent but on another phone.”
Eventually, virtual countries like Glass tended towards the more socialist methods, with “government issue” or better translate as “corporate” phones, so they could more easily regulate their profits. The real profit came from advertisements. Like the idea of “moral capital”.
So I was their only option of saving moral capital before the whole of Sahara was known for totalitarian corrupt police murdering teenagers. Likely the most costly thing to happen to Sahara in years.
“So what? Do you want me to cry to the camera and say it was not your fault? I ain’t gonna do that. You fuckers deserve everything you get.”
“We understand how you feel, this situation was one of exceptional low probability. I guarantee that constables are normally heavily vetted for any possibility of this sort of behaviour.”
“Sure..”
The man sighed, looking down to the ground.
“We have managed to make contact with GCT and wish you to travel and meet with zero’s parents. It is ok if you wish to refuse, but this will at least mean you will be able to give them and yourself a bit of closure.”
….
I was silent for the rest of the night, not able to talk to anyone especially my parents. Who seemed to be embracing the benefits Sahara had given them.
I felt abandoned by them, I didn’t want anything good to come out of his death and couldn’t accept anything they tried to give me. I slept in the block given to my family in the executive apartments. Guards outside seemed more for me than they were for my protection.
The next day I was taken in the same helicopter on the long journey to Switzerland. The GCT headquarters had interesting architecture, in a more rural location, it embodied a dome-like structure surrounded by an audacious amount of military-style guards for a research block.