life had changed a great deal on earth since its invasion and conquest by the avar-scythians.
one of the more noticeable changes, gregor mused, was that there were many more people in the streets, since the invaders had abolished the internet, television, radio, and telephone. the invaders (or invos, or as they were familiarly called by the earth’s inhabitants) had not bothered to confiscate the devices for these services, but the devices no longer worked.
gregor, like many people, still carried his phone in his pocket. although it no longer functioned, it was still his most precious possession.
the only information available to humans was that in the newspapers that the invos printed, and distributed free in kiosks in the streets, in schools and libraries, in the government buildings they had commandeered, and in cafes and coffee shops. where large numbers of people - those not employed in the invos’ work gangs - now congregated. many of them, like gregor, for many hours a day.
gregor had not been drafted into a work gang for eight days, so he made the bed in his lonely room and wended his way through the crowds in the street to a coffee shop on the corner of main street.
the coffee shop still had a sign on it saying “winchell’s donut’s” but like all such establishments, was now administered by the invos.
gregor entered the shop. there was a pile of the free newspapers on a little table just inside the door and he picked one up.
he took a blue ticket from his pocket, one he had been issued on one of his work days. the ticket entitled him to three hours at a seat in the cafe, refills of coffee up to four fifths of a liter, and either three donuts or a breakfast sandwich.
gregor got his cup of coffee and the first of his three donuts and took a seat at a small table for two in front of a window. the other seat was empty, but would not remain so.
gregor looked forward to reading the paper in peace for a while, until another patron filled the seat across from him, as the new patron would probably, though not absolutely surely, wish to talk.
the headline on the paper was a familiar one - conspiracy uncovered.
the papers were usually filled with news of conspiracies against the new government of the invos, and their successful infiltration and exposure. less often, there were accounts of actual battles between armed insurgents and the invo army or police, which always ended wth invo victory.
but this morning gregor noticed something a little different, lower down on the front page of the paper.
new reward program installed, the lead on the story read, and then proceeded:
due to the proliferation of conspiracies and illegal political movements, new rewards are now being offered for any information about them. (see schedule on page 4). information need not pertain to specific acts or threats but only to suspicious behavior.
caution: this program must not be abused. do not use this program to settle personal scores or gain personal advantage on your fellow citizens.
the information offered must be verified or regarded as worthwhile or probable by the enforcing authority. the offering of unverified or worthless information will be regarded as a crime and treated as such.
gregor considered this. sitting for long hours in the coffee shop, he had never heard any obvious plotting, but he had overheard or been directly addressed by a number of blowhards pontificating about the good old days before the invaders arrived, and grumbling generally about the new order.
was that enough? gregor wondered. and would it be worth his while to try reporting anybody? he felt a stirring in his brain. he was tempted to think of reporting somebody, just to bring a little variety into his life.
he turned to page 4 of the paper, to look at the schedule of rewards offered, and as he did a man sat down across from him.
the man, a large round-faced fellow with staring, challenging eyes, looked familiar. gregor thought he had talked to him before. what was his name - eddie? eli? chan? chuckie?
“we meet again”, the man said, as he put his coffee and a sausage and egg breakfast sandwich down on the table in front of him.
“good morning,” gregor replied. “it’s a nice day, isn’t it?”
“ha, ha! yes it is a wonderful day! a beautiful day! i see, my friend, that you are perusing the new list of rewards for turning in your fellow citizens! is it different from the old list?”
“i was just looking at it because it is in the paper, “ gregor replied. “and i always read the whole paper, as i have nothing better to do. as to the list, i do not recall seeing an exact list before, although i knew that rewards were offered.”
“of course, of course, a most diplomatic answer. perhaps you were in the diplomatic corps, before we were all happily liberated by the glorious invasion? ”
“no,” gregor said. “i was not.”
‘my name is ali, by the way, in case you have forgotten.”
that was right, gregor thought, ali, not eddie or eli. eli was jewish, ali was arab - or was it the other way around? and eddie was polish or irish. did such things matter any more?
“my name is gregor,” was all he replied to ali.
“of course. i, myself, never forget a name or a face.” and ali took a big bite of his sausage and egg sandwich.
gregor did not like ali’s manner. he decided, as soon as his three hours were up and he was free of ali, to report him as a suspicious person at the nearest police station.
why not? what did he have to lose?
and he knew that ali would hurry to another police station, or perhaps follow him to the same one, and report him, gregor, as a suspicious person.
and then they would just have to see what happened next.
how he missed his old life, in his hut outside the village, with his cow and his goat and his pig, where he never had to wonder what would happen next.
ali took another bite of his sandwich and it occurred to gregor that the sausage in ali’s sandwich might be his old pig matthew. matthew had been a good pig, the best gregor ever had.
how strange life was!
No comments:
Post a Comment