The Criminal Streak

by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

  There was one drawback to his apartment, though. On the nights she stayed over, the noise of the freight movers kept her awake. It was during the nights, when the walkway was relatively free of foot traffic, that garbage was picked up and freight was transported from the commute-train to the centre malls with the use of big trucks. If they kept his apartment, the noise was something she would have to get used to.

  Chapter Six

  One day when Georg was getting ready to go to work in the bar, Jawn offered to go with him, hoping he’d be able to find a night job and get away from the hot day’s work.

  “You don’t want a job out there,” Georg said. “We’ve got enough work here to keep you busy.”

  “I’d rather find something to do at night like you.”

  “I don’t go out there because I want to.”

  “Then why do you go?”

  “You might say it’s to keep tabs on our opposition and to listen for any news about a possible takeover plan.”

  “Has it ever been tried?”

  “Many times, but so far not successfully.”

  “By whom?”

  “Anyone who wants to, but usually it’s one of our competitors. Right now, there’s a new guy who wants to combine all the tobacco growers into one business. He’s got a lot of followers and has already clashed with two tobacco bands and won.”

  “Let me come anyway,” Jawn said. “I’ll stay out of your way.”

  Georg shrugged. “I can’t stop you.”

  Jawn followed Georg out of the Tech Dump. The sun was still high in the sky and only those carrying pails of water were on the streets. They stopped at the pipe to wash and drink from their cupped hands.

  At the bar, Georg nodded to the guard who kept the people out during off hours. It would be an hour yet before the first customers came. Georg took the broom and swept the floor. He then checked the levels in the beer crock and counted the number of jugs of homemade whiskey. He marked the numbers on the board with a message stating that an order would have to be placed soon.

  Jawn stood in the doorway looking out onto the street. He’d been there almost a month. The fear of the first day had lingered with him and kept him in the security of the Tech Dump. But growing tobacco was hard work. There was no mental challenge and after the years of university, where his mind had been constantly stimulated with new learning, he couldn’t adjust to the dullness of the menial work. He’d decided that he had to find a way out of the Fringe, back to the Megalopolis. If he didn’t, he’d be a mental screw-up in no time. The sun was hidden behind the buildings and shadows had begun to form. The fear of his first night was still in his mind, but he had to go out, even if it was just to acquaint himself with the streets.

  “It’s still light,” he said to Georg. “I’m going for a walk.”

  “If you think you have to.”

  Jawn stepped out onto the sidewalk. He kept to the shadow side of the street, as did the people already out looking for food, or money, or clothes, whatever they could steal. Although he didn’t feel like them, he knew he looked like them. His clothes were dirty and ragged and he needed a bath. He would blend in well physically, but would they still sense his newness, his uncertainty?

  As he walked, he studied the people. At one time they had been a part of the society in Megalopolis One. They’d gone to school, were members of families, and had jobs. They’d worn clean clothes, had baths whenever they wanted, bought food at the stores. And there were no children, not on the streets, not in the Tech Dump. There had always been rumours that the water pumped to the Fringe contained a birth control drug. Now he wondered if those rumours were true.

  After the first block, when no one had accosted him and nothing had happened, he began to relax. He stopped on the corner and looked around. Which way should he go? One street looked much the same as another. He turned right. He passed old, decaying buildings, stopping at some to peer through the holes where windows had once been. Inside, he could see sparse living quarters, where dingy mattress lined the floor and chipped dishes sat on rickety tables. The walls were cracked and old staircases had toppled, but as long as the building was standing it was apparently good enough to live in.

  “Not like they really have much choice,” he muttered as he continued his exploration. A couple of times, he was scared away from a window by the occupant throwing a brick at him.

  Where buildings had fallen, paths went around or over the rubble. If the pile was too high a detour of a block or more was made. After a few of these detours, Jawn realized that activity had increased in the streets. And he was lost.

  He tried to remember where he had turned corners, where he had made the detours, and what he had seen that he could use as landmarks. He tried not to panic and he tried not to run. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself. He didn’t dare ask for directions.

  It was getting darker. People brushed against him, some accidentally, some feeling for anything worth stealing. His fear was mounting. He’d never survive the night. He was too small, too naive of the ways of the street. If only he’d been more vigilant as to where he was going.

  At one corner he knew he’d turned left, so he went right. He remembered the building with the gaping hole in the wall. He went left at the detour then, in a block, turned right and right again after another block, then left at the brown building. He walked a couple of blocks looking both ways at each corner. Another detour. He hurried on knowing he’d turned right onto this street from the street the bar was on. But where was that street?

  He knew he would recognize it, if only he could find it. He reached a corner but before he could see if it was the right one, a hand grabbed his shoulder and swung him around. He was face to face with the large man that Georg had been so wary of on his first night in the Fringe. The man stood in the middle of the sidewalk staring at him.

  “So you’re Georg’s brother.”

  “Who … who are you?” The hand was hurting his shoulder and his fear was almost overwhelming.

  “You might say we have a friendly rivalry going.”

  “You’re the one who wants to take over the tobacco business.” He tried to wrench free but the hand held him fast.

  “Smart boy. Maybe you’ll be able to convince Georg to come in with me.”

  “He doesn’t want to.”

  “He really doesn’t have a choice anymore.”

  “He can fight you.” Jawn tried to sound tough.

  The man shook his head. “The days of fighting are over. We have different methods now.”

  “What methods?”

  The man shook his head. “Tell Georg that Davi sends him a message.”

  “What?”

  “Tell him he has until tomorrow night to join us.”

  “And if he doesn’t?”

  “Then it’s ‘goodbye, Georg’.”

  The hand let go of Jawn’s shoulder and as much as he wanted to run, he forced himself to turn the corner and walk down the street to the bar. Georg was standing at the door when he arrived.

  “Where have you been?”

  It took a few moments for Jawn to be able to speak. “Davi sends a message,” he stammered. He didn’t have to be tough now.

  “What did he say?” Georg scowled, looking in the direction Jawn had come.

  “That you had until tomorrow night to join him or it will be ‘goodbye, Georg’.”

  “What did he mean by that?”

  “I don’t know. That’s all he said.”

  Georg shrugged his shoulders and went back in the bar. Jawn furtively looked back to the corner before entering himself.

  * * *

  Gwin and Britt stood in the huge crowd on the platform. Everyone watched the long, two tiered distance train pull into the station. As soon as the doors opened they pushed forward. There were two rows of seats facing the tinted windows on each side of the train. The first in the cars got the ones closest to the windows. Britt grabbed a seat and Gwin quickly sat beside her, beating ou
t two university students who slid in behind them.

  The distance train travelled smoothly and quietly on its rails. Gwin stared out the windows. Huge cracks criss-crossed the bleached soil where not a plant grew. The only movement was the occasional swirl of dust created by a lonely gust of wind. In the distance Gwin could just make out the long line of black that was the high screen over the vegetables grown on the farms closest to the edge of the dead land, which had been created by the constant shining of the sun. From her visits to the farms she knew those screens were attached to the sprinkler framework and they protected the vegetables from the hot sun. Farms further from the edge received less direct sunshine and didn’t require the screens.

  The train slowed and turned onto a side track, which ran through the forest. The canopies over the windows remained in place as protection against the sun while the windows automatically slid open to let the smells in through the screens. The train did not stop and no one was allowed off as it glided silently through the forest.

  The forest had been cultivated for almost three hundred years and many of the trees were huge. The medicinal plants grew wild in the shade of the tall trees, as they had done before the asteroid bump. Although it did occasionally rain, most of the moisture was misted from overhead water lines. It gave the forest a warm, humid, closeness that soon permeated the cars. Gwin inhaled deeply, trying to capture and hold the real smells of the trees and bushes. The only sounds were from the people on the train as they pointed to something and talked to each other. No one watched for movement in the bushes or listened for birds singing or hoped to see an animal eating. Only plants lived in these woods.

  As usual, the time passed too quickly and soon the train was heading back to Megalopolis One.

  “Wasn’t that wonderful,” Britt said, as the train picked up speed. “I look forward to this trip every year.”

  Gwin nodded her head in agreement as she glanced around her. Everyone, including the children, sat quietly content. A trip to the forest, farm, or sea always produced a sense of having seen something remarkable. At one time, she would have been lost in that feeling too, but not anymore.

  Her mind returned to the last planet she had explored, or ‘her planet’, as she now called it. She had been on many missions and had seen a lot of planets, but for some reason this one had touched her. Maybe it was because she had walked barefoot on its grass, or had sat under one of its trees and watched the insects go about their daily lives, or had listened to a small stream trickle by or had watched wild animals eat. Maybe it was the comforting warmth of the sunshine on her skin or the wetness of the raindrops. Maybe it was because there was no noise other than leaves rustling in the wind, birds chirping, insects buzzing, and the scurry of small animals.

  While the real forest was wonderful compared to the engineered forest, it was nothing compared to the fresh air and the lush beauty of her planet. She’d tried to explain the difference to Mikk over their dinner and to Britt before they boarded the train, but neither of them could grasp what she was saying.

  Gwin suddenly wished she could visit her planet again. She wanted to fly over the meadows, the hills, the lakes, the mountains; she wanted to walk with freedom from crowds; she wanted to hear the sounds of tranquillity.

  “Do you want to go to the Hub tonight?” Britt asked.

  Gwin came out of her reverie. She shook her head. “I need to get my sleep because I have go to the Assembly tomorrow. How about tomorrow night? I have a feeling I’ll need some fun after listening to boring discussions all day.”

  As they travelled towards Megalopolis One she looked out the window at the stark landscape that stretched as far as she could see.

  Chapter Seven

  The Global Alliance had it headquarters in the convention hall multi-block on the ground level of Megalopolis One. Also here were the courts, the offices of the elected of the megalopolises, the boardrooms of committees set up to study problems on the planet, the departments that oversaw the land and fish farms and the forests, the science laboratories, and various other sections of the governing bodies.

  Gwin stepped off the commute-train in front of the multi-block. She went through the archway and once in the centre area looked up at the sixth floor windows of Mikk’s laboratory. She’d hoped to have lunch with him today but he’d said he’d be too busy.

  She walked to the auditorium where the Assembly of the Global Alliance was to be held. Outside, protestors who were holding signs and chanting, stopped her. As they paced in front of her, she read:

  Save our Prisoners!

  Stop the Banishment!

  Reform Rather Than Remove!

  When there was an opening she rushed through, up the steps, and into the building. She paused at the side doorway of the meeting room and scanned the audience in the raised rows of seats. They were representatives from various groups with concerns on the topics to be discussed, and most of them were reading a report made of several metal sheets which she could see had been placed on each seat. She saw Royd sitting in the third row. She was almost at the row when she recognized the person next to him. He was from the Taproom on Pidleon. She hesitated but Royd had seen her. Gwin picked up the report and sat.

  They exchanged greetings and when Royd didn’t introduce her to his companion, Gwin opened the report titled Habitable Planets by Exploratory Captain Royd. She thumbed through it remembering the statistics on each of the five planets they had found. When she reached the fifth one and read the recommendations Royd had made on it, she grimaced.

  “Something wrong?” Royd asked.

  “I guess I was just hoping you wouldn’t have singled out this one so much.”

  “Why not? It is the best of the five.”

  “I know but it’s so beautiful. Why can’t we just leave it alone?”

  “It was our job to check the planets and give a detailed report. The ultimate choice of the planet isn’t ours.”

  “Will the meeting please come to order,” the moderator called.

  He stood at a podium on one end of the stage in front of the audience. Beside him, the men and women leaders of the Global Alliance sat in order of rank. Leader One, the lowest in status, was on the far left with Leader Nine on the far right. Each wore a red robe and faced the audience, ready to listen to their opinions.

  The moderator banged the tapper again. “Will this meeting please come to order.”

  Slowly, silence descended on the large room as everyone turned to the speaker.

  “We have a long agenda,” he began. “So I advise that we quickly begin this first day of the last tri annual assembly of the Global Alliance for the year.” He looked at the audience and when no one objected, he continued. “First, the city manager of Megalopolis Three would like to apply for a permit to begin construction on a fifth down level.”

  The moderator stepped back as the city manager of Megalopolis Three climbed the podium and began speaking.

  A fifth level down, Gwin thought. It would be the first in any of the megalopolises. She listened as the city manager explained that within the six years it would take to complete the fifth level down there would be the beginning of a housing shortage in Megalopolis Three. He wanted to prevent that from happening.

  “What are your thoughts?” the moderator asked the Leaders.

  “Since we have decided to expand into the Fringes rather than continue to build up or down, I think the request should be tabled until the prisoner relocation has taken place,” Leader Nine said.

  The other Leaders nodded in agreement.

  This was the first assembly that Gwin had attended and she listened attentively to an application to begin organizing a celebration for the three hundredth anniversary of the Great Change and a request to add another distance train to the two already operating at Megalopolis Two. More trains were needed for the country visits to farms. Both were approved.

  “It’s now lunch time,” the moderator said, looking at his watch. “We will adjourn for an hour.”r />
  When Mikk couldn’t have lunch with her, Gwin had thought maybe Royd would, but after a brief smile and nod he left with the Pidleonian. Gwin followed the signs to the cafeteria and ordered a bowl of soup. She sat at a table in the corner and when the hour was up returned to her seat.

  There were three more items on the agenda to be taken care of before the moderator announced. “And now we come to the results of search for a planet for the Prisoner Relocation Program. I’d like to present Exploratory Captain Royd who was in charge of finding such a planet. Each one of you should have a report on his findings.”

  Royd stood and walked to the podium. He cleared his throat. “Before my companion and I started our journey, we went over all the data we could find on previously explored planets that weren’t already inhabited. None of them gave us the right combination of air, water and soil, so we selected five, as yet, unexplored ones. On each of them we ran through our tests. Two planets were totally unsuitable, two came close to meeting our needs, but the fifth one was almost an exact copy of what we know ours was like hundreds of years ago. That would be the last planet in the report.”

  A few moments passed as everyone flipped to the last section and read the findings.

  “It’s a lot further than the other two planets,” Leader Three pointed out.

  “That’s true,” Royd nodded. “But when you look at the better growing conditions, it makes sense to travel that extra distance.”

  “Travelling that extra distance also means more expense. I think we’ve already spent enough on our prisoners.”

  “That money should be spent on providing them with a better life here,” a woman shouted in the audience behind Gwin. There was a smattering of applause from the people around her. Gwin turned to see the group of protestors seated a few rows up.

  The moderator banged his gavel. “There will be no outbursts from the audience. If you have something to say, wait until discussion time.” He turned to Royd, who continued.