“Citizen Director, come have a look at this.” Technical Specialist Mark removed his glasses and cleaned them with his necktie. It had been a long day and his eyes were feeling the strain of staring at a computer screen for 8 hours.
“What is it, Citizen? Another idiot searching porn?”
“No, Sir. At first I thought it was some nostalgia freak researching Old American History. But, I’ve been watching her activity for about 4 hours. It looks like she’s sending some kind of messages that I haven’t quite been able to decipher. Thought it might help to have a fresh set of eyes check this out. I don’t know…maybe I’m reading more into it than is really there.”
Gary Bryant had been named Citizen Director of the National Technical Assistance Center (“NTAC”) three months ago. NTAC had been created in 2012 by The Founder to track opposition activity during the election. Since the time of the “final election” NTAC’s original function was no longer necessary. However, the New American Government felt the agency should be re-purposed. Vid-Ed, tracking of Citizen Health, the Fairness Commission and Border Security now fell under their control.
“Give me a print-out of her transmissions and shut her down. If any questions arise over this, I can back-date a directive limiting recreational internet access to three hours a day.”
“Yes, Citizen Director. I’m sending the info to your printer right now. Funny thing, though. I can’t seem to get a lock on her cell phone. I’ve been trying to pin her down for two hours and the signal keeps bouncing around like a freakin’ ping pong ball.” Mark reached into his desk and opened a bottle of Ibuprofen. He dumped three pills into the palm of his hand.
“Give me some of those, will ya?” said the Director. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”
Gary went to his office and retrieved a stack of papers from his printer tray. He sat down on a long couch, leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. “Anita, contact my wife and tell her I will be staying here tonight”, he said into the mouthpiece that rested against his left cheek. “Yes, Sir. Do I need to send flowers this time?” replied a voice in his ear. “No. She’s used to this now. I’ll bring her something when I go home. Thanks, Anita.”
He stood up and looked out of the huge pane of one-way glass that gave him a bird’s eye view of his department. Dozens of Techies were gazing intently into computer screens, their faces bathed in the blue glow given off by the monitors. Each Techie was given the best possible environment within their cubicles to reduce fatigue. Ergonomic seating, soy energy bars and drinks, soothing nature sounds to relax the mind. Family photos were not permitted as they had been determined to cause stress and feelings of guilt. Hidden cameras gave the Director real-time video of the activity in each cubicle. Fifty flat screens adorned the walls of his office. In the lower right-hand corner of each screen was a health monitor which showed the current blood pressure, heart rate and stress levels of every Techie under his supervision. The Founder was a firm believer in detecting deception through biorhythms and this method was used in every Government agency in New America.
Gary moved to his desk and began to sort through the communications T.S. Mark had sent to him. On their face, the documents seemed harmless. The woman appeared to be in her mid-40’s, which would put her in the category of those who required advanced indoctrination when New America was established. For the most part, Citizens acclimated themselves to The Founder’s visions with little or no resistance. However, some needed more intensive re-education. A few never quite accepted the New Constitution and were relocated to isolated areas of the country where they could not instigate unrest among the general public.
The Founder was a compassionate man and understood that there would be resistance to new ideas. He relied heavily upon the children of those resisters to help their parents transition into a new, worry-free life. In extreme cases, the children were eventually adopted out to compliant families and their parents were relocated. As far as the children knew, their parents were deceased. The Founder felt that it was unnecessary for those children to live with the stigma of having a parent in a relocation community.
T.S. Mark’s hands hadn’t typed this fast in months. Every time he felt he had a lock on the location of his subject’s cell phone, it would shift to yet another unknown ISP. He had orders to shut her down, but it was becoming an impossible task. Mark pressed the “call” button on his earpiece.
“Yes, Citizen” the Director responded. “Are you making headway on that transmission?”
“No, Sir” Mark replied. “I wonder if I should hand this over to the Border Security Techies. Their tracking software is much more advanced than ours.”
“Okay. Initiate the transfer. Make sure you include all ISPs in your report. After you’re done, why don’t you head on home. No sense both of us spending the night.”
*****************************************************
“Jeff, I don’t know how long I can keep this up. I think they just handed me over to Border Security” said Beth. “Why don’t you work on this for a while and I’ll finish the dishes.”
Jeff set the dinner plate he had been washing into the drain board and joined his wife on the couch. “You’re a lot faster than I am, Beth. Besides, if we don’t get this information to the others they won’t know when to cross.”
“How many are going this time?” he asked.
“Oh, big group. Thirty or so. Shit!” Beth grew quiet. Her thumbs flew over the tiny keys on her phone. She brought the device closer to her face. “Border Security just brought out the big guns. They must be desperate.”
“I don’t like this, Beth. I think we pushed the wrong buttons this time. Maybe we should meet the group and cross with them.” He rose from the couch and walked over to the large picture window. A strong sense of urgency rested in the pit of his stomach. “Honey, I’m serious. I think we need to leave…now!”
Beth stopped what she was doing and glanced over at her husband. Jeff was not the sort to panic. The look on his face was enough to convince her that he was right. “Okay, we’ll go. I just have to send the final coordinates and we are out of here. Why don’t you get our packs out while I finish. Two minutes…I promise.” She managed a half-smile and turned her attention back to the phone in her hands.
Jeff felt better knowing they were leaving the relocation community. It was not going to be easy and he hoped all of the pre-planning they had done would pay off.
“Okay, done!” Beth turned off the phone. She removed the battery and ID card, then walked to the kitchen sink. As the water flowed into the garbage disposal, she tossed the items in and turned it on. A horrible crunching noise filled the house as the battery and card were hacked to pieces by stainless steel blades. Jeff handed her a parka and large backpack.
Neither of them bothered to look back. The house they were given by the Government had never been home to them. Their true home had been a log constructed cabin in the Foothills of the Rocky Mountains surrounded by 40 acres of ranch land. Jeff and Beth had raised Black Angus for 20 years and had a comfortable life. That is, until Two Thousand Fifteen. Their cattle were shipped to Mexico by the Government. Jeff protested the takeover and they were labeled “resisters”. In Two Thousand Sixteen they were removed from their ranch and sent to a re-education commune.
Beth refused to cooperate with the Government’s efforts to turn them into “compliant mush”. She and Jeff happened upon some like-minded people and their journey into the world of underground railroads and coded communications began.
Over the years they had been instrumental in helping more than 1,000 fellow resisters cross the border into Mexico. Until today, they had flown under the radar. Beth was not sure how she had been discovered. She would have plenty of time to figure it out once they reached the Constitutional Colony in South America.
to be continued…
The House of Representatives (what the f*** they represent is anyone’s guess) passed their 1,990 page “One small step for the Left, one giant leap into Socialism” bill last night.
You know, when Richard Nixon did it the Media didn’t like it. Not at all. I’m talking about blackballing a newspaper for writing articles questioning decisions made by his administration.
However, I do take issue with her stance on burning the American Flag.
sstorm0730
