We Are Them

by L. K. Samuels

  I gave a little nervous little laugh. I could see that Lenny was not amused, his brow wrinkling with a scowl of disapproval. “I’m working on it, Lenny. We just hired another 100 new people. It takes time to train, equip, and get them to fill out all the paperwork.”

  “Is vital they pay up soon,” Lenny said slowly and coldly. “We need to know who to charge. We need them pay union dues.”

  I was doing the best I could. I was trying to follow the letter of the law. The lack of time was the culprit, not me.

  “I expect report,” he ordered. “I want names. I want names of everyone. By tomorrow.” Lenny turned around almost in military-style and stomped away in his black boots.

  Tommy eyed me with a sense of relief. “Can you believe that blowhard sourpuss?”

  I shook my head. I could just envision Lenny taking charge of our newly mandated MAD, arresting violators, imposing long jail sentences, or simply shooting the guilty parties against a stone wall. It seemed like an eerie scene right out of Dr. Zhivago.

  “He’s got a butt load of problems,” Tommy grumbled.

  “I’m sure he has the same cheerful thoughts about you.”

  Tommy shook his head with disgust. “The problem is, my ideas may be wrong. I admit that is a possibility. But I believe I have no right to ram my precepts down another person’s throat. I mean, like we decide our own fate, our own future. But I don’t think Lenny would give me the same consideration.”

  Chapter 10

  I hated dealing with a bad itch, especially at the office. For the next several days, I sensed a tingling throb that provided little relief no matter how much one scratched. Big Al had was the likely source of that incurable irritation, demanding more and more from his department while we worked with fewer and fewer resources to do his bidding.

  Any first-year economics student could have predicted our problem. DED had overspent its operating budget. The city treasurer sent us threatening letters of financial doom. They warned that Hemet would soon file for bankruptcy if we kept burning cash like there was no tomorrow. I held the same feeling. I feared that I would be unable to pay off my five-year luxury car loan without my city job. Something had to be done.

  Our department had to go on a strict no-spending diet. But that was never going to happen in my lifetime. Big Al would simply ignore any financial restraints. He might think he was a social visionary, but his starry-eyed expectations reflected a skewed worldview. He could not see what he was doing wrong. His vision was impaired; a blind man was better at seeing the future. I had no idea how he would attempt to accomplish his quixotic tasks. I was afraid to know.

  As I understood it, the citizens of Hemet had two choices; they could either call DED or ignore our mandates. If they disobeyed, we were powerless to force compliance. We still were unable to discover a forceful means to guarantee compliance or generate revenues for our invaluable services. We simply had no teeth. Moreover, we could not easily identify most lawbreakers. I racked my brain to unearth some technological way to discover who had driven around without authorization. It was maddening. Many drivers told us that they would obey, but somehow, they kept forgetting or neglecting their duty. Others, the more silent and subtle ones, seemed to be sabotaging our effort, determined to stop us from bringing positive change to Hemet.

  Big Al was furious over the high numbers of disloyal drivers. I tried to reason with him and point out the spontaneous nature of humanity. We were a weak and disorganized species. People were absent-minded and hasty, and always forgetting to buy a gallon of milk to feed their hungry children. Big Al had another take, arguing that neglectful drivers were actually going on unauthorized trips to liquor stores. I chuckled. I had to plead guilty to that behavior. I was infamous for my late-night beer runs.

  * * * * *

  As I was updating the work schedules for my senior people, a murky shadow blocked my light. I looked up. Immediately, I felt inadequate to resist its odious presence. It was Big Al. He was acting a bit strange. He almost appeared happy and elated. Something was wrong.

  “Spencer!” Big Al boomed as he stuffed his loose white shirttail into his pants. “I’ve figured it out. It’s brilliant if I may say so.”

  “What’s brilliant?” I was almost afraid to ask.

  “My plan to solve our financial challenges.”

  “You found a way to get more money?”

  “Was as easy as crossing an empty street. Some days my intelligence just knows no bounds.”

  “Okay,” I leaned back in my chair, folded my arms, and stared up. “Let it rip.”

  “Here it is. The mayor and I have decided to impose a fine on any driver who fails to inform DED.” Big Al fished in his pocket, pulled out a wad of paper, unwrapped it, and read. “The fine for the first violation is $250. The second violation is $1,000. After that, it’s $5,000.” Big Al paused and eyed me. “That should make our lazy citizens sit up and take notice.”

  “Is there a fourth violation?” I asked with a smirk, knowing that the fine could not be any higher. I was wrong.

  “Sure. That is the beautiful part. We can charge them with a serious felony. That allows us to use civil forfeiture asset laws and seize their home, boat, and car. In fact, we can use a loophole. The law says that we don’t even have to charge someone with a crime. We can take what we want. No expensive trials or lawyers. It’s like a free smorgasbord of monetary delights.” Big Al glowed. “Boy, we’ll be back in the money.”

  I swallowed with great difficulty. I had to talk some common sense into him.

  “So,” I asked innocently, “we get to take citizen’s property without any criminal charge or jury trial?”

  Big Al nodded in agreement.

  “Don’t you think the public might find that a bit improper?”

  Big Al pursed his lips in thought. He tilted his head slightly and gazed up at the ceiling. “Okay, I guess we should charge offenders with a crime. I mean, we’ll win in court anyway. The judges know we need more revenue to afford our judicial branches’ higher salaries.”

  “What’s the penalty?” I asked.

  “We have not settled on the mandatory and minimum sentencing yet. However, I am pushing for ten years of hard labor, minimum. But that’s being worked out as we speak.”

  “Aren’t we going a bit too far? I mean, many murderers and rapists spend less time behind bars. The violators are simply drivers who failed to call DED.”

  Big Al’s eyes flashed like cannon fire. “What’s your problem, Spencer? You’re always complaining, always trying to belittle my achievements. Do you want me to transfer you to another department? Is that what you want?”

  I recoiled with horror at his suggestion. I was not going to tell him the truth. My thoughts on accepting a demotion were a closely guarded secret. Even I was not privy to them. I just wanted to stay the course. Keep my job and prevent Big Al from diving off the deep end. Then again, he was always swimming over the Mariana Trench.

  I stared hard at Big Al and fumbled for words. “Well, ahh… I just want to make sure everything is perfectly legal.”

  “Hey,” Big Al said in a jovial tone, “the City Council voted to approve the ordinance. It’s legal as anything can be.”

  “I mean the bigger picture. You know, on the state or federal level?”

  “Don’t worry about those federal clodhoppers. They don’t have that much jurisdiction over our local municipality. We control the local area. They won’t interfere with us unless there is an earthquake, flood or foreign invasion. And when those emergencies do arise, we always make out like bandits. Never let a crisis go to waste.”

  I found this a little disheartening. We were supposed to have local autonomy, not local monarchy.

  “So how do we enforce it?” I asked.

  “Well, we have made arrangements with the police department. Every time they pull over a driver, citizens will be asked whether they called us to schedule their driving destination.”

  “And what if they lie
?”

  “That’s the beauty of the system.” Big Al stroked his chin. “The police will call the DED and confirm their claim. We can get them on perjury as well as failure to follow the law. Well, I mean we could if they were in a court of law. Anyway, we’re planning to record their response and, if they lie, we can sock them with massive fines and years in jail. What a great way to fund the DED! Our financial woes are behind us.”

  “Yeah.” I gulped, struggling to stop a rising sense of dread. “Sounds like a great way to increase our funding. Especially since I will need more people and equipment to communicate with the police.”

  Big Al beamed. “That’s the spirit, Spencer! I’ll get you everything you need. Remember, this is almost like a war! It is us versus them. Right? And, boy, we will soon have the enemy on the run.”

  I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. In fact, I felt ill on too many levels to describe. We were sinking fast and deep, and I could only guess where the bottom lay.

  “Have everything ready in two days. That’s when the police will start calling us.”

  “Ahh… Okay.” I took a deep breath. I knew our entire staff of software engineers would have to stay up for over 48 hours. Even that would not be enough time to finish the job. I began scratching my forearms.

  “That’s what I like to hear.” Big Al almost did a little jig. “Get the system up and running. I want something that will quickly identify every criminal cheater. I want everybody’s name available for the police, except, of course, city officials. We have important things to do, and we cannot be bothered calling up every time we have to go to the dry cleaners. Got that?”

  “I will need the list of those exemptions,” I said, wondering if I was destined to be on the VIP list. I was like everyone else. I liked to travel without any restrictions. “Will I be on that list?”

  Big Al gaped at me as if I was a side of beef hanging in a slaughterhouse. “You?”

  “I need the exemption,” I pushed him. “You know, official city business.”

  “It’s only for top management.”

  “I’m almost top management.” I felt a sense of helplessness washing over me. Nothing was more humiliating than begging for rights you should already have.

  “I suppose so,” Big Al said with condescending tone. “But I expect close cooperation with the police department, especially when the first few violators are caught. You see, we plan to come down hard on these lawbreakers. You know, make them an example to the community. Shame them until they start obeying us. And to make sure that they will never betray us again, we will print their driver’s license photo in the newspaper. That will humiliate them. If we are lucky, maybe a mob will drag these betrayers out into the street and make an example of them.”

  “Well, that’s one way to encourage compliance,” I said sheepishly.

  “Hmm.” Big Al bit his lips and looked around slyly. He turned to his left and then to his right. Soon, his attention shifted back to me, staring directly with a wild fervor in his eyes. “I wonder if someone could entice good people to stop wicked ones.”

  I was not sure what he meant. Did he want me to arrange some questionable activity? Was he encouraging me to mobilize our workers to engage in illegal activities? That was a frightening thought. I stared back at my boss and pointed to myself with a puzzled look. “You mean,… you want me to be more pro-active, more direct and forceful?”

  Big Al nodded his head with great satisfaction, seemingly to convey his secret and expected wishes.

  My heart shuddered, skipping a beat as if it had jumped into my throat. “Well,” I mumbled with a quivering voice, “Ahh… I mean… are such acts necessary to help our department? I mean, don’t we have better things to do?”

  “Why forgo all of the fun? No, we must make sure these lawbreakers look as guilty as hell in the newspapers. You know, dredge up some personal dirt—past convictions, bankruptcies, late payments for child support, debt, rumors, anything that will make them reek of depravity. That should scare the willy-nilly out of everyone. Nobody will ever challenge us again. It will make people think twice before ignoring us.” Big Al smiled with a satisfying grin on his face. He pulled out a new cigar, popped it into his mouth, and rushed out the door.

  I felt victimized. My boss gave me no chance to reply to his terrible and probably illegal proposal. I was not going to organize mobs to shame opponents and manipulate public opinion against others. This was one bridge too far to cross.

  I just sat in my chair and looked out the window in disbelief. What was next? Were we going to shoot protesters and hang them from lampposts? Had we come to that? When was someone in the community going to start protesting our deplorable city government? Someone had to stop us. But who?

  “What’s wrong?” Tommy asked as he leaned against my doorframe, munching on wheatgrass.

  “This world is getting too complicated,” I said. “I think we have lost our sense of balance. No,” I paused, “we have lost our sense of decency.”

  “Is that all?” Tommy laughed. “I thought it was something serious.”

  I jumped up and rushed to Tommy. I grabbed hold of his forearm, slammed the door, and dragged him into my office. “My God, this is serious. I’m not sure where to begin. We must now use the police force to enforce DED’s new laws. It will be a disaster.”

  “Sure!” Tommy smirked. “I’d like to see them try that. Nobody’s going to obey that.”

  At that moment, Lenny barged in without knocking.

  “Heard about new enforcement rules.” Lenny slowly shut the door and walked to my desk, looking worried. “Well, well, looks like shit has nick the fan.”

  “Hit the fan.” Tommy corrected him.

  “Oh, yes, and more than that. Top City officials are exempt from new rules. Know what that means?”

  “No, what?” Tommy’s voice soured.

  “Means special treatment. No equal treatment. Not fair.”

  I stared at him. “Does this mean you’re not exempt?”

  “How you know?”

  “Just a hunch,” I said.

  “Well, that is wrong, very wrong. Everyone at City Hall should be exempt. Not right. Everyone should have equal treatment.”

  I nodded. This was the first time I had ever concurred with Lenny. “You’re right. It’s definitely unfair.”

  Even Tommy nodded in agreement.

  “What can we do?” I asked, hoping that he had some ideas.

  “Don’t know what we can do.” Lenny moved closer to me and whispered, “But something is wrong here. Everyone acting queer. Hard to put fingernail on it.”

  “Were you in Hemet when the fireball hit?” I asked.

  Lenny stepped back. “What you talk about?”

  “The meteorite last month.”

  “Oh, that. Big explosion in sky. I was at a union seminar in Los Angeles. Why?”

  I began to see an emerging pattern so large that it could easily overtake the suspicions about the infamous Illuminati conspiracy. Something had happened to Hemet that night. It was beyond spooky. Everyone who was in the city during the explosion had been altered in some way. It sent a chill down my spine. It was like something out of the “Invasion of the Body Snatchers”—both movie versions. They had all transformed into frigging control freaks with a Dirty Harry “make-my-day” death wish.

  “Why…” I almost shouted, “Because over half of the city residents have gone bonkers.”

  “Oh,” Lenny shrugged. “So, big bang in sky is culprit.”

  “Well, it seems that way,” I said.

  “Very good.” Lenny seemed overjoyed. “I thought was me. Nice to know I’m not going psikh.”

  “No, you’re not,” I said, trying to sound as confident as possible. “Something has gone wrong. It seems that only the people who were in Hemet that night have become zombie-like followers. Somehow, the purple gas from the fireball must have changed them.”

  “They eat human flesh,” Lenny had a fearful expre
ssion on his face. “Not good. Never liked zombies.”

  “No,” I assured him. “No zombie apocalypses. I was just making an analogy.”

  “Oh.” Lenny pulled back his shoulders and stuck out his chin like a pouting child. “Don’t be funny. Strange things happen all time.”

  With a skeptical eye, Tommy turned and directly faced Lenny. “This nightmare had to come out of somewhere.”

  “Sure,” Lenny agreed. “But purple gas?”

  I confronted Lenny. “So, what is the cause? If not the gas.”

  “I don’t know,” Lenny said with a puzzled face, his hands held out, palms up. “First noticed when union gone crazy. They want promote workers on merit, not on seniority, special favors, or privileges. Boy, cannot make this shit up.”

  I stared at Lenny. I also felt we had entered some weird parallel universe.

  “So what?” Tommy shot back, looking confused.

  “Another bad thing,” Lenny said. “They plan raising union dues 300%. Maybe more. Way too much. I guess city running out of greenbacks.”

  “That’s interesting,” I remarked. Of course, with all of the logic-defying spending, the lack of funds had to rear its ugly head. Money had to come from somewhere other than trees.

  “It’s all phony baloney,” Lenny said. “I say we’re all hell going. Tell me. Makes no sense.”

  “Anything else?” I asked, wondering if this day could get any worse.

  “Let’s see,” Lenny paused, glanced up, and squinted his eyes. “Oh, yeah. One other tiny thing. They want to brand Social Security numbers on forehead. Said it reduces paperwork. Little strange. No?”

  I almost fell backward. “Yeah, I think that one qualifies for weirder than weird.”

  “Wow!” Tommy›s eyes widened. “This is like a Stephen King movie. But without all the gory special effects.”

  “Surely you’re joking?” I asked Lenny.

  “Nyet!...” Lenny replied, shaking his head. His face furrowed into a fog of worry and confusion. “Funny thing you ask that.”

  “Why?” Tommy asked.

  “That’s what I asked them,” Lenny said. “Were they doing comedian skit?”