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Playtime's Consequences
02c. Full Service Eviction

02c. Full Service Eviction

Dan huddled in his cubicle, staring intently at his computer screen. His eyes moved in quick jumps, the apparent focus belying his true actions. He smiled to himself. One moment he appeared to concentrate on a spreadsheet; for a longer period afterwards, he browsed the Internet, intending to satisfy any of his many shameful addictions. As soon as anyone walked by, he could almost instantly switch back to something work-related. He had spent quite a bit of time and effort mastering this deception, and it was paying off handsomely. He now got paid for doing very little. Everyone is stupid except me, he thought.

His phone rang. Instinctively, he switched back to the spreadsheet, feeling slightly dumb for doing that because of a phone call. He saw his wife’s name on the screen; he slid the button to answer. “Hey, babe,” he answered brightly. “How’s tricks?”

“Dan?” The panic in his wife’s voice was unexpected. “You need to get down here right now!”

She had his full attention. “Jessie? What’s happening? Where are you?”

“I’m at home!” she sobbed. “They’re in our house, packing up everything! I can’t stop them! There’s too many!”

“Where are the kids? Are they safe?”

“They’re spending the night at friends’ homes,” she cried. “I didn’t want them to see this.”

He stood up suddenly. “Call the police!” he remonstrated.

“I’m trying!” she protested. “I’ve been on hold for over ten minutes. Just get down here now!”

“I’m on my way!” Dan hung up and shut off his computer. It was close enough to the end of the day; what was another fifteen minutes, after all. He grabbed his briefcase and fled down the corridor.

When he arrived, he could hardly believe his eyes. Two large flatbed trucks, each with their own shipping container, slowly filled with his family’s possessions. Boxes of various sizes sat on the patchy front lawn; large men in navy-blue jumpsuits carried more out of the house. Tread-driven robots lifted the boxes into the back of each truck; another robot, its upper half looking like a multi-tined forklift, stacked the boxes expertly on top of the wrapped-up furniture, making use of every available space. A handful of large men with dark-gray jumpsuits and serious expressions supervised the activity; curious neighbors and passersby gawked at the spectacle. The street swarmed with people and cars; Dan had no choice but to park several houses away.

As he rushed angrily down the sidewalk, he saw a group of teenagers watching him. It was a few of the neighborhood’s surly punks; they smirked as he neared. “Ooooh, mister, you’re gonna get it now!” one mocked. Dan muttered an expletive under his breath as he strode by. He heard them laugh insolently as one mimicked him; “civilized people obey rules!” Dan burned with rage, but the teens were the least of his problems right now.

“What the hell is all this?” he demanded as he stomped into one of the few unobstructed spaces left in his front yard. Further away, past a short wall of boxes, he could see his wife with her phone to her ear, speaking intermittently with one of the gray-suited men. Two other ones looked at each other, sighed, and ambled up to meet him.

“I take it you live here?” one asked Dan, his politeness barely concealing his aggressive tone. Jessie approached them, her hollow eyes flush with worry.

“That’s right! And you need to tell me who you are and what the hell is going on!” Dan’s face flushed with rage; sweat beaded on his forehead.

“I’m Officer Chilcutt, and this is Mr. Randolph. And as it should be clear, you’re being evicted.”

“But you can’t do that!” Dan asserted. “I have rights!” Jessie came to a stop at his side.

Chilcutt tapped his clipboard. “According to our information, you haven’t tried to assert any of those rights; you simply stopped paying your rent. We have no record of any complaint you filed with the local housing authority, and no evidence of any communication with the landlord to try to resolve this.”

“Well, they’re getting one now! And you are going to put all my stuff back, right where you found it!” He dialed his phone furiously.

“Dan? Is what they’re saying true? Why didn’t you tell me?” Jessie pleaded. Dan shot her a fiery look. “Not now!” She flinched and went back to being on hold, staring at the ground.

“I’m pretty sure they’re closed for the rest of the day,” chuckled Mr. Randolph. “But be sure to leave a message.”

Dan smoldered as the recorded message played loudly enough for others to hear; he angrily stabbed at the hangup button. “Fine! You’ll all be hearing from my lawyer!”

“Do you have one?” Randolph brusquely inquired.

Dan gaped wordlessly for a moment. “No, but I can find one!” He searched public listings for eviction lawyers.

“They’re likely to be done for the day, too,” Randolph predicted. “And the ones that are still taking calls, won’t be the best and the brightest. They’ll just be desperate for business.”

“Oh? And how would you know that, Mr. so-called Randolph? You some sort of expert?”

“You could say that,” Randolph chimed. “I was a police officer too, until the city decided to defund us. Now I work freelance security, and recently started a salaried position at Full Service Evictions.”

Dan stopped scrolling through his phone for a moment to eye Randolph. Fury still burned in his eyes. “Really? There’s a company called that?”

“There is,” Randolph answered. “It’s a really professional operation…nothing like the old days. We take care of the whole process, from beginning to end.”

Dan chose a listing for an eviction lawyer and tapped to make a phone call. “Yeah, well, I’ll be taking care of them in a few minutes!”

“You had a chance to fight the eviction order, but the eviction itself is simply a fact at this point. The house has been vacated.” Randolph seemed weary. “Look, sir, I can tell you how the entire thing is going to pan out, no matter what you do. I’ve been involved with evictions many times before. Now, what say we discuss this calmly and rationally, before you give yourself a heart attack? I don’t relish having to resuscitate you…which, it turns out, I’m also fully qualified to do.”

The lawyer’s voicemail recording could be heard faintly. At the beep, Dan spoke. “Yeah, hello…my family and I are being evicted, and I want you to help me fight this.” He finished by giving his name and phone number, then hung up. He glared at the two officers. “Fine,” he barked sarcastically. “It seems I have time. Why don’t you two tell me all about it? I swear, if anything I own goes missing or gets damaged, so help me, I’ll—”

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“There’s little chance of that, actually,” assured Chilcutt, as Randolph smiled pleasantly. “This team is highly trained in rapidly packing objects of value for transport.”

Dan crossed his arms and huffed. “Why, because they’re expert movers?”

“No,” Chilcutt remarked, a twinkle in his eye. “Because they’re professional burglars.”

“What?!” Dan roared. He felt a pain in his chest; he quickly tried to calm himself. A mental image of Randolph giving him mouth-to-mouth was enough to chill Dan’s hot fury.

“Hello?” Jessie suddenly interrupted. “Yes…my family is being evicted from our home. They claim to be police officers, but…um…Chilcutt? Yes, he’s right here…oh, OK…” She proffered her phone. “It’s for you.”

“Chilcutt here,” he began. “Oh, hi, lieutenant! No, everything’s fine, it’s going smoothly. But yeah, the tenants showed up. Uh huh…yeah…OK, you can tell them.” He handed Jessie her phone. “Your turn.”

She listened glumly to the voice on the other end. “I see…oh, I see…well, thank you.” She hung up, then glanced around helplessly. “They said, even if something was going wrong here, they don’t have the resources to deal with it.” Listlessly, she stared at her shoes. “Something about funding cuts.”

“So as I was saying, your belongings are in good hands,” Randolph promised. “Each of the movers is under electronic surveillance; anything stolen or damaged would be noted immediately by their A.I.-driven observers, and displayed here.” He held up a tablet computer; a swarm of green dots indicated that they were all doing their jobs properly. Randolph motioned towards some nearby blue-suited movers. “Have you looked closely at their headgear?”

Dan squinted his eyes; in the long shadows of the rapidly approaching twilight, he could barely make out the details. What had appeared to just be a hat was now more obviously a ring of cameras, microphones, and other sensors. He contemplated them for a few moments. “So…how is that legal?”

“It’s not, for warehouse workers,” Randolph answered. “That’s how we were able to buy this equipment so cheaply. But it’s perfectly legal to use on convicted criminals during work-release. Something of a digital chain gang. But most of them are happy to be out of their cells, getting fresh air, and earning some money. They appreciate the chance to build up a nest egg for when they’re released.”

Dan looked over the array of boxes now stacked all over his former front lawn. “OK…but…something always gets broken in a move. How can you be so sure nothing will?”

Randolph smiled. “Why don’t you come with me, and see for yourself?” He began walking towards the front door, and beckoned Dan to follow him. Dan trailed behind; Jessie meekly brought up the rear.

Inside the house was a whirlwind of activity. Floodlights washed away any traces of shadows. The furniture was already gone; now they were packing the smaller items. Dan watched as two people picked up knick-knacks, sealed each in a plastic bag, lay them into a box, and sprayed foam over them. The foam bubbled and then went still; by the time the next knick-knack was placed, the foam had firmed into something pliable and sticky.

Dan sniffed the air. “I’ve seen spray-on packing foam before, but it always had a horrible smell.”

“This is water-based,” Randolph explained. “It’s not much more expensive, and it lets us use a lot of it in a closed area. It’s mostly corn starch and wheat gluten, so it’s not toxic either.”

In the kitchen, the dishes, pots, cutlery, and food were being packed similarly, but doing the job was a spidery-looking robot. Its multiple arms worked together like a well-oiled team of several people as it bagged, padded, and packed items into several boxes at once. “That’s another bit of warehouse tech. The e-commerce giants paid for all the research, then we buy it when it becomes cheap. Can you believe that’s one of their obsolete models?” Dan simply gaped at it as Randolph continued his explanation. “It works well in open areas where there are lots of items to pack. It’s not so good at going up stairs.”

Dan’s shoulders slumped. “Well, apart from being evicted, it seems I have little to complain about.” He looked down at his clothes. “Hey, what are we supposed to wear tomorrow?”

“We’ve taken care of that, too.” Randolph swept his arm to point at a series of loosely packed boxes near the front door. “In there you’ll find a minimal set of toiletries, plus outfits for three days. Granted, they might not be your favorite clothes. And we can only hope they all fit; we had no way of knowing.”

Dan and Jessie peered into the boxes; the contents appeared to be what was promised. He shrugged. “So what happens to our stuff now?”

“Well, assuming you want us to store them, not just leave them here on the street…” Dan blanched. “Of course. So, the shipping containers will be kept indoors, in a locked and guarded facility. A full inventory of your belongings will be delivered to you as soon as we’re done making it. You’ll be able to find anything you own once you find the box with the matching number. And should you choose to sign the contract that provides for repayment of past due rent, storage fees, moving fees, and so on, it’ll all be returned to you, and you can go on with your lives.”

“How much do you expect me to pay, and how quickly? You know I’m in debt.”

“True,” Randolph soothed, “but you have an advantage you’re not considering — lots of collateral.” He pointed to an area on his tablet. “Turns out you own several high-value items. Undoubtedly this list will grow once we inventory the contents of your safe. Don’t worry, we won’t damage it…we have expert safe-crackers on hand.”

“Also on work release, I presume.” Dan chuckled for the first time this evening.

Randolph returned his smile. “You can get your bare necessities back with very little down, and the rest will be returned once you pay off your debts and we don’t need it for collateral anymore. Or faster, depending on your level of cooperation. But confiscating your cars won’t be necessary. I’m sure you’re glad to hear that.”

Dan’s brow furrowed. “This seems too good to be true. You make it sound like this’ll all be resolved painlessly. I’m not buying it. Evictions are a traumatic experience, no matter how you try to sugarcoat it.”

“Full Service Evictions intends to be a game-changer in this field,” Randolph stated. “We want to earn and maintain a stellar reputation; we plan on doing a lot of these, and in short order. There are a lot of people in houses they can’t afford, and a lot of landlords not getting paid, to the point where it’s causing widespread social problems. It needs to be solved before the economy as a whole is damaged even more.”

Dan shook his head. “An eviction service with a vision? Now I’ve heard everything. This is really what your founder has been dreaming of all these years?”

Randolph laughed. “No, not this specifically. This company was founded to solve one of many related problems. The parent firm is the one with the vision.” His eyes glowed with revelation. “I never would have believed that, at my age, anything could surprise me, or any cause could capture my imagination. But frankly, their presentation knocked my socks off. And it didn’t hurt that I really needed the job. Now I’m one of their gung-ho supporters.”

“Who?” Dan felt slightly unnerved.

“Unlimited Partners.” The name rolled off Randolph’s tongue like a benediction. “They haven’t been around very long, but they’ve already made several significant moves. You can read about them online.”

“I’ll do so…in my copious spare time.” Dan let out a hollow laugh. “In the meantime…where does my family sleep tonight?”

“We have a deal with several local motels,” Randolph explained. “Your family can get rooms for the night at a discount. You’ll even get a buffet breakfast in the morning. But after that, you’ll have to pay full rates. Hopefully, by then, you’ll make a deal with us, and you’ll move into your new apartment later tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Why not tonight?”

Randolph grinned coyly. “Because they’re in the middle of getting evicted too.”

Dan pinched his brow. “You certainly thought of everything, didn’t you.”

“That’s our job!” Randolph beamed. “Besides, the place needs to be cleaned first. Maybe some light repairs.”

Dan noticed that the lights in his old house had been turned off, and the blue-suits were now removing the floodlights and coiling up the extension cords. Entering the house was a small army of different robots, many with brush and vacuum attachments. The cleanup crew, Dan surmised. “You already have a tenant here?”

“No, an owner,” Randolph noted. “The house was bought unseen, contingent on you leaving. The real estate market is really tight these days.”

Dan threw up his hands helplessly. “So an injunction against this eviction wouldn’t have helped — the house isn’t theirs to rent any longer.”

Randolph’s eyes gleamed. “Like I said, I knew how the entire thing was going to unfold.”

“Excuse me, sir,” one of the blue-suited movers addressed Dan. “Where would you like these?” A few of them were carrying the boxes left by the front door, containing their clothes, toiletries, and other bare necessities.

“Oh…my car’s down the block.” Dan turned to Jessie. “Well, honey? Ready to go?”

“I’ve been ready for a long time,” she sighed. “We could never afford this house anyway.”

Arm in arm, Dan and Jessie walked down the block, trailed by the movers with their boxes. Dan smiled sanguinely. “You know, I’m looking forward to that buffet breakfast.”

The teenage dead-enders were still there, smirking up a storm. One put on an air of politeness. “So how are you this fine evening, sir?” The others could barely contain their mocking giggles.

“Laugh it up, flakes,” Dan deadpanned as he walked by. “You’ll be lucky to end up so well. Don’t forget; civilized people obey rules.” He didn’t bother to turn to see their reaction. The sudden dead silence told him all he needed to know.