by Isaac Hooke
"No gun for you."
This wasn't going as planned. "Mito, listen—"
"No."
I glanced over my shoulder. The two armed escorts had remained, and were now edging closer to me from the entrance. "Look. It won't happen again. I—"
"You are correct. It will not happen again."
I frowned. I didn't like the sound of that. "Mito, what—"
"Clients do not like you," Mito said.
"What do you mean, clients don't like me? I've always kept them safe, brought them to their destinations on time. Never had a client robbed. And never had a client who didn't tip me. So I'm pretty sure you're wrong on that account."
Mito grinned, bearing his teeth. "I do not like you."
"Okay. I get you. No gun. I'll scrounge one on my own, somehow. But if you wouldn't mind, I could use a small advance. As I said, I was robbed. Some guy—"
"No advance."
I regarded him in disbelief. "You own me this much, Mito. How much money have I made for you?"
"A man is only as good as his gun," Mito said. "How he treats that gun, the care, the attention, shows me how he will live his life. If a man cannot protect his own gun, how can he be expected to protect his client? I have a rule: Lose your gun, and you're done."
Nice of him to tell me about this rule now, of all times.
Mito set the Baoding spheres down. "As of this moment, your services are terminated."
"Wait a second. You can't—"
He smiled, baring his teeth. "Get out of here, little white bread roll. Before I terminate more than just your services."
The armed escorts showed me to the door, none too gently.
* * *
I met Alejandro at the local dive that night. Holographic women danced on most of the tables. If you liked what you saw, for a small fee you could meet the living-and-breathing version in a back room. The more upscale bars had the all-too-perfect Skin Musicians—also known as Pleasurers—available in the back. Don't think this place could afford the robots though.
"Wish I'd stayed home today," I said. "CryptoG. 'Your Data Security Is Our First Priority.' Right. Well, maybe if you didn't accept billions of government digicoins to bake backdoors into your software, you might actually live up to your slogan. The only people who benefit from those backdoors are the hackers. And the government, of course."
"Mito," Alejandro said, shaking his head. "Caramba. I never thought he would fire you." He finished applying the healing ointment to my scalp. Claimed it was the best available. I wasn't sure how much it helped, because I still had a raging headache.
I took a long sip of my Tijuana cerveza. "Doesn't matter."
"You going freelance again?" Alejandro said, wiping his hands on his duster. "You know you'll have to seek out clients from scratch. The ones you got through Mito? They're untouchable, if you know what I'm saying."
"I know." Mito would do some pretty nasty things to me if I tried to poach his clients. No, if I wanted Dissuader work, I'd have to post online. That was the only way, really, other than going door-to-door. Which flat-out didn't work, and was a good way to get shot, actually.
"You still want out of this country," Alejandro said. It was a statement, not a question.
"Yeah." I took another sip. "I'm done. I've had it with this place. What happened today only reinforced that. Getting robbed, then fired. I mean look where we live, Alejandro. Take a good, long look. This isn't a good country."
"Maybe the robbery was a sign from above, you know?" Alejandro said. "That you shouldn't be trying to leave."
"Don't give me that."
It was Alejandro's turn to take a long swallow of beer, though he bypassed his glass and drank straight from the pitcher. Classy. "You know, despite all its flaws, the people are happy here. You could be too, if you just let go. Get a nice mamacita, a few kids. Maybe try a different line of work."
"That wouldn't make me happy, Alejandro. It would distract me, sure, make me forget about my unhappiness, but in the end I'd still want to leave."
"Rade, the UC isn't the utopia you think it is. Those vids on the Net? All propaganda. Everyone knows that. They make the United Countries look like heaven, make us want to migrate, then as soon as we cross the border, bam! They force us into the army. Courtesy of the EEI Act."
The Enforced Enlistment of Immigrants and Illegals Act.
Alejandro whistled at the bartender and waved our nearly-empty pitcher. "José, another." Alejandro wasn't wearing his hat tonight, and he had his double collar down so that his oval face was completely visible. He had a closely-trimmed mustache and beard that nicely matched his thick brows. Didn't help his haunted eyes, though.
I emptied my glass and wiped my lips. "What if I like the EEI Act? What if I want to be drafted into the UC army?"
Alejandro nearly choked on the last bit of beer in the pitcher. "Most people sneak across the border because they want to live in the UC. Not die for it, you know?"
"Just listen to me for a sec. Joining the UC army isn't so different from what I'm doing now. I'd still get beat up for other people, except I'd get to wear a fancy uniform while doing it. And whenever I lost my gun, I'd get a new one free of charge, no questions asked. I'd get to see the world, and potentially the galaxy. Plus I'd be paid a heck of a lot more."
"Yeah, and get shot at," Alejandro deadpanned.
"As I said, not so different from here. Look. I'm twenty-two years old. I've been in this country far too long. I appreciate everything you've done for me, I really do, but you know what? I'm going to walk all the way to the border if I have to. I've had it with this place."
Alejandro started tapping his fingers against the side of the pitcher. A nervous habit of his. "You really mean that don't you?"
"I do."
He took another swallow, finishing the pitcher. He stared into the empty container. "I might have... I might have paid someone to rob you this morning."
I stood up. "You what?" My pounding headache seemed to worsen.
He couldn't meet my eye. "I'm sorry, Rade. I didn't want you to go. I was afraid. Caramba. I didn't know how important it was to you."
I held up my thumb and forefinger. "Alejandro, I'm this close from starting a bar fight with you."
"I'll pay the Border Hoppers so you can go," he said softly.
"You'll what?" I wasn't sure I'd heard right.
"I'll pay the Border Hoppers. Because that's how we do it. I did you a wrong, and now I'm making it right."
I sat back down, the fight draining out of me. "I still can't believe you'd do something like that to me in the first place."
"I know. It was a mistake. I guess I hoped it would make you change your mind. But maybe it's better if you go. I don't want to hold you back."
"You're really going to pay the Border Hoppers for me?"
He gave me a cross look. "I said I would, didn't I?"
"But what about the condo you've been saving up to buy with that girl of yours? Your fiancée?"
He stared into the empty pitcher once again. "There is no girl." He sounded ashamed. "I made her up. Brenda is... she's a Skin Musician."
"Oh." That explained why he never introduced me. You couldn't marry a bawdyhouse sex robot.
Alejandro waved at the bartender. "Damn it José!"
José finally came and refilled the pitcher.
We portioned the beer out in our glasses, drinking quietly. My headache had faded. Guess the ointment Alejandro had applied was working.
That, or the beer.
"Come with me," I said.
I wasn't sure I could do this myself. Despite my heartfelt, determined words, moving to the UC and joining the army was a frightening prospect. Alejandro had been there for me since I was a child. He'd found me on the streets, guided me, acted like the big brother I never had. Sure, sometimes he did a few misguided things, like robbing me for example, but in the end he was really just looking out for me. In his own way.
Alejandro downed his glas
s, and refilled it. "I'm not going with you. I'll give you the money, si, but go with you, no."
"Okay." I finished my own drink, looking away. I didn't want him to see the disappointment on my face. I guess I'd have to do this alone after all.
"You don't believe me, do you?" Alejandro said.
"I believe you, Alejandro."
"Then why don't you sound happy? Caramba. I just said I'd pay your entire Border Hopper fee!"
I looked at him, and forced a smile. "No. I'm happy."
"Actually, you know what? I'll throw in double what you had in your account."
"Why?"
"Because that's how we do it. I always pay back my debts."
"I don't know what to say. Thanks bro. I owe you one I guess."
He smiled, but I could see that his eyes were moist. He looked away. "You don't owe me a thing." I thought he was going to choke up.
I rested a hand on his shoulder. "Seriously bro, come with me. Leave this sinkhole behind. You know in your heart that the UC isn't all hype and propaganda. You've seen the vids on the Net. And you remember what my Uncle Alek told us, don't you? How the United Countries really is a haven compared to this. Can you imagine, not having to work if you don't want to? Not having to carry a gun around everywhere?"
Alejandro wiped his eyes. "We just agreed that you'd have to join the military. So yes, you'll work. And yes, you'll carry a gun."
"Well sure, but I meant the civilians. They don't have to get jobs. They aren't allowed weapons. Think about what that must be like. To walk the streets and not worry about where your next meal is going to come from. To sit in the park and not worry about getting shot in the back, or hit by a two-by-four. That's living, bro. That's freedom. Not like here." I finished my beer and slammed the glass upside-down on the countertop. "Come with me."
"I had someone rob you this morning, and you still want me to come with you." Alejandro laughed, like I'd just told him the funniest joke. "I'm not going with you. And that's that."
CHAPTER TWO
Alejandro came with me.
He said it was because he'd changed his mind, and wanted to ensure he got the money above and beyond what he owed me back, with full interest. But I didn't believe it. He'd always been there for me, and I think he felt it was his duty to come. And while he wanted to look out for me, I'm sure he also wanted a change just as badly as I did, despite all his fervent declarations to the contrary. Who could resist the promise of a better life? That's what made people immigrate, wasn't it? Or border hop, anyway...
I sat in the rear bed of a pickup truck that was making a run for the UC border. It was pitch black out there: the truck had shut off its headlights for obvious reasons. I was assured the driver wore night vision goggles, though from the way the truck jolted and swerved, I had my doubts.
The darkness heightened my other senses. I heard the rush of the passing air, which was interrupted by the occasional rustle from a crushed tumbleweed, or the screech as the undercarriage scraped uneven ground. The electric motor itself was soundless, as the driver had disconnected the pedestrian warning speakers. I smelled dust, and fuel, and human sweat.
Alejandro sat on my left. In the light of the half-moon I could barely see his face, let alone the faces of the others crowding the truck bed. Men and women who appeared as vague outlines against the night sky.
"Scared?" the man sitting on the other side of me said in English.
"Yeah," I said.
"Me too." His accent made me think he was indigenous. Nahua, maybe. Late twenties, or early thirties, judging from the timber of his voice.
"Lucky we're on the same truck then," I said. "Back a scared man into a corner, and you've got a fight on your hands. Back two scared men into a corner, and you've got yourself a war."
The man laughed. "That's a good saying. I like it. I'm Tahoe Eaglehide."
"Rade. And this is Alejandro." I pointed at Alejandro beside me.
"Hola," Alejandro said.
"You're Nahua?" I asked him.
"Navajo."
"Interesting." I regarded him in the dim moonlight, but could barely make out his features.
Tahoe was returning the favor. "What's a whitey like you doing on the wrong side of the border?"
"The same question could be asked of you."
"It could." Tahoe sounded amused. "But I'm not a whitey." He fiddled with his jeans and retrieved something. "Here."
I regarded the dark mass in his hand dubiously. "What is it?"
"My wife. She is Nahua."
I accepted the item. It was some kind of locket. I opened it, and a backlight illuminated the picture of a wholesome young woman.
"Nice," I said.
"You like her?"
"Sure. Not my type, though."
"She's quite the beauty," Tahoe said. "After four or five cervezas."
I smiled, then shut the locket and handed it back.
"She's the reason I'm doing this," Tahoe said.
"What, to get away from her?"
"No," Tahoe said. "I'm going to send everything I make to her and my unborn child."
"Ah. Good man. I guess we all have our reasons."
"We do."
The truck swerved sharply, bouncing and jostling everyone.
"We should've just walked," I complained to Alejandro, switching back to New Spanish. "I don't think these guys have a clue what they're doing."
"No no no." I could barely see Alejandro shake his head. "They're experts, Rade. Experts. They come here every night. Know exactly what they're doing."
The bed jerked with a bang as the truck hit what must have been a wide depression.
I gave Alejandro an exasperated look, which he probably couldn't see anyway. "Know what they're doing huh?"
"Hey," Alejandro said. "We're driving with our headlights turned off in the middle of the night. I think the driver's doing an amazing job under the circumstances. Cut him some slack, okay?"
I crossed my arms, sitting back. This was going to be a long ride.
"You guys looking forward to joining the military?" Tahoe said.
Alejandro leaned over me and answered, in English. "Hey, we only join the military if we get caught."
"You think we're not going to get caught?" I could hear the humor in Tahoe's voice. "Interesting. Tell me, do you agree with the EEI Act?"
"Of course not." Alejandro said. "The UC should open its borders and let people come and go freely. None of this drafting crap."
"But you can see why they do it, don't you? Drafting all of-age immigrants and illegals to fight for them, because the majority of their own citizens won't do it?"
"Doesn't make it right," Alejandro said.
"What do you think, Rade?"
I shrugged. "It's a way in for us, isn't it?"
"So you're glad to be fighting for the UC?" Tahoe persisted.
"Well sure. I'll be fighting for my new homeland. And so what if I have to kill a few of the UC's enemies."
"You're forgetting that UC technology won't make you invincible. You may very well die for the UC. Something its own citizens refuse to do."
"Last I heard, no citizen of the UC was ever stopped from volunteering."
Tahoe's head bobbed in the dark. "This is true. But very few citizens volunteer. Immigrants make up the bulk of their army."
I exhaled loudly. "So what's your point?"
"Think about this: How good can a country's military be when its ranks are almost completely made up of soldiers from other countries? Wouldn't actual citizens fight harder? Patriotism and all that?"
"Not necessarily," I said. "Natural born citizens don't understand just how good they have it. Sure they're patriotic, but not like us. You gotta love a country a whole lot if you're going to give up everything to move there. And when you want nothing more than to be a citizen of that country, and you've wanted it your whole life, you'll fight, even die for that privilege, don't you worry. Because you have way more to lose than any natural born."
/> "I like that answer," Tahoe said. "And agree with it. I'm looking forward to fighting for the UC, too. Though for me, it's all about going into space. I've always dreamed of traveling to the stars. And the UC military is my ticket."
The stars winked out and the truck bed instantly became pitch black.
"I wonder if the universe is trying to tell you something," I mused. "As soon as you bring up the stars, they vanish."
"Story of my life," Tahoe muttered.
The driver turned on the headlights.
We were traveling inside a tunnel that had walls made of coarse sandstone.
"See?" Alejandro said, the ambient light reflecting off his features. His eyes glinted excitedly, and looked like dark gemstones. "Told you these guys were expertos. We're going to slip right under the UC border. We're not going to be caught, or drafted. I knew I hired the right crew. Did you know, they dig a new tunnel each time the gringos sniff out the old one? It's the only way to get past the robot drones and cameras."
"Only way to get caught, you mean," Tahoe said.
Alejandro leaned forward and gave him a dismissive wave. "Will you just shut it?"
I glanced at Tahoe, who raised an eyebrow. I could make out his features now that the headlights were on. I guessed his age at around twenty-five. Both sides of his head were shaved to the skin, and the top was buzzed, very much like the "high and tight" military haircuts I'd seen floating around on the Net. He was clean-shaven except for a soul patch just below the lower lip.
I could see the outline of well-defined muscles beneath his white t-shirt, and he had some of the biggest shoulders I'd ever seen.
"So that's what you look like," Tahoe said. "Dissuader?"
I nodded. "You?"
"Construction. Though I'm an astrophysicist by training."
"Nice. How'd you end up in construction?"
He shrugged. "You know what the jobs are like where we're from."
"I do indeed."
As the pickup sped through the tunnel, I saw a flash of metal in the distance.
"Did you see that?" I said, quietly.
Tahoe nodded. "And so it begins."
