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Boundary
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Boundary |
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration 
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Disgusting. That was my first thought at the sight of the pathetic woman who was furtively glancing up and down the busy street. I watched as she studied the faces around her, gauging them for any hint of awareness. When she seemed satisfied that they were oblivious to her actions, she darted quickly at the small food stand. She jumped away quickly, then strolled up the street trying vainly to mask her apprehension. In a few moments she would blend with the crowd, melting away into protected anonymity. I shook my head with angry self-righteousness. I'd be damned if she'd get away with such a heinous crime! It was people like these that set my teeth on edge. Instead of an honest day's work on te dole, they spent their time and effort depriving honest people of the fruit of their labor. I could almost hear her protest to the judge right now. I knew her, as a matter of fact, I'd been the one to bring her in the last two times. As I realized that thought, I realized another in conjunction. She'd already been convicted twice. If she were caught again... "Stop right there!" I yelled out the window as I finished my thought. It never ceased to amaze me how stupid some of these people were. It wasn't my fault that they'd been born poor. Yet they took it out on us just to feed their families because they were too lazy to work the dole, raising the prices we had to pay for our own food. I knew working on the dole wasn't easy, and sometimes it was even dangerous. But it the right way to do things. I watched her turn suddenly at my voice. Abruptly, she stopped. As the crowd around her milled about uncertainly, it slowly came to realize who was being singled out. In defensive reaction the throng spread out, giving the woman a wide berth. It was as if they sensed that proximity would make them a target as well. Her blue eyes showed the stirring of panic racing its way through her brain. She looked like a cornered animal, her vision darting around, searching for a hole to climb into. But she found no solace in the stares from the people around her. They were either unwilling or unable to help her. A wise choice for them, Capital City police always prosecuted to the greatest extent of the law. There was no such thing as a philanthropic sentence here, as I think is right. These low-lives had no right to leniency. It was my opinion that they didn't even deserve three chances. I believe that all it should take is one. California had first adopted the "Three Strike" method way back in the 1990's. Designed to impose a limit on the amount of chances a person had to severely break the law, it ignored the "smaller" crimes, The focus was only on those that were considered the worst. But when the Joint Moral's Law went into effect, we found that we needed a new way to deal with the inevitable criminal element. As time has passed, that element has been systematically reduced, due to genetic monitoring and psych screening. But there still remained the occasional peasant that was unhappy with their lot in life and chose to break the law. The Boundary was the punishment. The Baker Street Boundary had been put in place as a punishment, without invoking the sympathies of the anti-death penalty advocates. It was as humane as possible, while providing complete protection to the law-abiding citizens of the city. The methodology is simple and just: If you were convicted a third time, you were banished to the Boundary. Anything can pass through the Boundary once. Anyone can be put in. No one can come out. Period. The Boundary shoots into the air out of thirty-five generators. They emit a high-intensity laser stream, creating a dome over the center of the city. The machines are set up on the inner diameter of Baker street, a road that loops back onto itself. It combines high-intensity laser technology, with the newest forms of genetic identification and recording. I don't pretend to truly understand how it works, so I'll put it out in lay terms. Basically, the genetic identifier is like a blank disc, formatted and ready for information. When it's presented with that information it determines whether or not it has already been presented with that information. If the machines decide that it doesn't contain that exact DNA strand, coupled with that precise genetic coding, it allows it to pass through. But just like a disk, if it already contains that information, then it cycles a conflict, whereupon the machines don't allow the information to pass. So, once you pass through the Boundary, you can never pass through again. Everyone knows about it, so there's no possibility of accidently walking through. As a matter of fact, the scientist who developed it claimed that they could have made it invisible, but instead chose to color it brightly as a warning to any who neared it. The area of te Boundary dome covers roughly twenty-two square miles. Inside, the criminals are left to fend for themselves. They are forced to learn to survive in a society of nothing but criminals. Many, including myself, think of it as poetic justice at its finest. Jenna had no more chances, and if the look on her face was an indication, she was thinking about the same thing I was. As I said before, the Boundary was the penalty for all crimes. In a panic, she looked down the street, then back at me. She was trying to decide how to get away. Even in a society as advanced as ours, that's possible. Sure, we have the identity of every living being on computer, and hers was on file. But where there are advanced methods of enforcing the law, there are even more advanced methods of breaking it. The fight between good and evil has never been on of who had the right morals. It's always been a battle of who can stay technologically ahead of the other. So, I slowed the Hover to a stop, watching her for any move. And I was right. Her kind always fought the law. It was as if we were anathema to them, disconcerting to them by our mere presence. Somehow they seemed to think they were better or even equal to us. Everyone knew that we were better, and they should know to appreciate us. Weren't we the ones that provided them the chance to work for us? Weren't we the ones who guaranteed that they would be able to work hard enough to put food on their tables? And on top of that, we take control of their lives, ensuring that they won't foul them up. And all we ask is for them to abide by our rules and do their work peacefully. And what kind of thanks do we get. None. But I could tell that Jenna wasn't thinking of work or food, or anything as mundane. Her mind was fixated on one thought only. She knew just as well as I did, that if she could get away from us here, she could find someone to alter her computer identity. In effect, she would start over. She would become a completely new person, with three fresh chances. I shuddered in anger as I thought about the traitors that would provide such a service. Though we've never caught any, we know the peasants don't have the intelligence or the learning to accomplish these things. What that meant then, was that there were traitors on our side. We were being betrayed by our own people. I have heard the arguments until I was blue in the face about how we used them as slaves. But I don't believe that. They have choices, and slaves by definition don't. Sure, the other choice besides working the dole was either to starve, or to steal. But that left them choices, so they weren't slaves. Besides, even if they were, where would they be without us to help them along? She moved. "No, wait," the voice said from beside me. But I was already out the door of the Hover. It shifted under my weight, as the gyros adjusted for the sudden displacement. I used it's overcompensation to give me a boost out onto the street, hurtling over a kid on his skateboard. Without a glance back, I ignored Ashley's protests and raced down the street. I yelled again, but Jenna ignored me. I stumbled over a wino, sprawled out with his back against the wall of a building. He cursed me in a drunken voice, but I cursed him back and kept after Jenna. I followed her as she dodged inside and raced up some stairs. I laughed in between gasping breaths, when I cornered her in a room. But she simply smiled at me and reached for the jack. "No!" I screamed. But it was too late. Before I could reach her, her form disappeared and she was transported across the wire. I shuddered. I hate traveling through the jack. Suppressing my fear, I pushed the button that caused the path to stay open. If I had forgotten, she could have jumped to any sub-directory she wanted, thereby making it impossible to follow. But I didn't forget. Sucking in a long breath, I placed the tip of the jack to my forehead and closed my eyes. Bright lights collapsed around me as my body's components were transformed into electrical energy. Short clicks sounded in my ears as the binary shifters pushed me through the network. I imagined the wind whispering past my non-existent ears and clenched my proverbial teeth for the sudden stop at the end. With a jolt, my body was reformed back into the less-reliable, but more comfortable flesh it was accustomed to. I managed to hold onto my lunch and gather my senses in time to see Jenna's foot as she passed through the doorway. I raced after her, feeling refreshed. That was the one thing about traveling through Cyber-Space, you always came out feeling like you've had a good night's sleep. One of the bad things was that that night, you would feel like you've been up without sleep for a week. As I passed through the door, I realized two things at once. One, I had no idea where I was, and Jenna apparently did. Two, she was no longer running, and had found two very large men whom she seemed to know. Oops! My first reaction was to reach for my stunner. But as soon as my hand felt the smooth fabric of my pants, I remembered another bad thing about traveling through the jack. You couldn't take anything that wasn't organic through with you. Oops again! Not wasting any time moaning over the loss of my weapon, I shifted my stance mid-stride and plowed into the closest of the thugs. The reaction was less than I had hoped, he laughed, while I landed painfully on my rear. I shook my head and stood up. Instead of charging straight on, I faked a punch to his jaw. Using the distraction it provided, I simultaneously brought a hard knee up into his groin. It gave me a grim satisfaction to vent my frustration out on these scumbags. I was paying them back in small part for all the grief and ungratefulness. While the first fell to the ground moaning, I threw my fist at the other punk, who was no longer smiling. Having seen what I just did to his companion, his hands shot down to cover himself. He must have realized it was the wrong move before he sank to the ground, unconscious from a blow to his throat. Sometime during the few seconds of distraction, Jenna had taken the opportunity to continue her flight. Sucking in my frustration, I ran through yet another door, finding myself on a familiar street. I turned to the right, preparing to look for any sign of Jenna. I bumped into a woman and we both fell to the sidewalk. I slowly stood up and gripped her hand, helping her to her feet. The woman stood with my help and brushed the long blond hair from her face. Jenna's look of surprise must have mirrored my own. Apparently she'd left before she realized that I was able to take down her two thugs. I was so shocked I must admit, that I simply let her wrestle free from my grip and watched as she began to run away again. When I recovered myself, I started to get mad. I was really tired of having such a hard time chasing down a small time crook. And though I'm not in the slightest bit chauvinistic, I will admit that it irked me that it was a woman who kept evading and out-running me. I tracked her course with my eyes before I shot after her. I realized that I knew where we were now. And I had a feeling that I knew where she was headed. Well she wouldn't get away from me that easy, by God! I'd show her what Central City cops were made of! There would be justice, she would pay! I had started to slow down when I realized she was heading toward the Boundary. But the thought of being beaten spurred me on. I renewed my effort, closing the gap between us. I mirrored her every action. When she dodged, I dodged. When she jumped, I jumped. We ran quite the merry chase down the streets, disturbing the citizens who crowded the streets. But neither of us was able to get an advantage. I stayed right on her heels, without being able to close the gap. And then we came to Baker Street. Abruptly, we both slowed down. Realization hit us of what we were really doing. This wasn't just a game we were playing, we were dealing with real lives. And while I don't feel sorry for those who are imprisoned within the Boundary, I recognize that it must be a difficult thing to face. But that wasn't my concern. She knew the penalties and she would suffer the consequences. Apparently not too difficult, for as Jenna approached the rim of the Boundary, she turned around deliberately, facing me. I had almost stopped, when she looked me in the eye and allowed a knowing grin to cross her face. Then she passed through. Icy anger flared up inside me and I continued forward. I slowed again as I reached the electric-green Boundary. As I completed my step through, I felt as if I had divested myself of my personality, leaving a fresh slate to be filled. The sensation was a lot like jacking, and I didn't like it at all. But it was worth everything, simply to see the complete look of shock, as I crossed my way through the jade barrier. The feeling of elation only lasted a moment, and I quickly began to scan the area. I looked over the people on the street. Inside, the barrier shed more of a bluish-green tinge than it seemed from outside. It had the effect of turning dark things almost black and making the lighter colors look aqua-marine. I ignored the apoplectic stares and searched the crowd. Among them was the person I'd been chasing. Without a moments hesitation, I charged after Jenna, startling the people nearby out of their silence. I ignored their trailing curses and clamped a hand on her arm. "By the power vested in me," I began, quoting the opening of the Amended Miranda Rights. I stopped at the look on her face. "What?" I asked, curious at the way her thin lips were squeezed together tightly. She rolled her eyes and began laughing hysterically. Soon, she wrestled out of my grasp and fell to the street, clutching at her sides. She was laughing so hard that she started snorting, and had to force herself to sit up. I left her there, understanding at last what she found so funny. I sighed and walked down the street, hunching my shoulders to block out the mocking laughter that rang through the air. ------------------ Sanity is the playground for the unimaginative. |
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| © Copyright 1999 C.G. Ward - All Rights Reserved | |||
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DreamEvil Member Elite
since 1999-06-22
Posts 2396 |
Truly remarkable tale you have created here. ------------------ Shall I indulge in flights of fancy hampered by clipped wings? DreamEvil© |
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Nicole Senior Member
since 1999-06-23
Posts 1835Florida |
This is incredible. I had an idea what was going to happen at the end, but I was still held captivated throughout the entire piece. Well done, and thank you for posting this. ------------------ "Grief can take care of itself, but to get the full value of joy you must have somebody to divide it with." *Mark Twain* |
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Severn Member Rara Avis
since 1999-07-17
Posts 7704 |
Flamin' heck!! Wow, this ties in with our little debatey thing! More stories please! Now.  This is just great - publishable even. |
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration |
I'm working on it severn, I have one complete, but its about 560 pgs long. I think it would take a looooooong time to post it in parts here! Thank you everybody! ------------------ Everyone has a photographic memory... ...most of us just don't have film! |
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hoot_owl_rn Member Patricius
since 1999-07-05
Posts 10750Glen Hope, PA USA |
Very nicely written. The use of imagery in this piece makes the story. Several time I was right there on the street along with the character. Nicely done! |
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration |
Just to toot my own horn... *bump* |
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Nicole Senior Member
since 1999-06-23
Posts 1835Florida |
Yeah! Love this one! Cool beans, Chris...thanks for diggin it back up!  |
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AVANTI Senior Member
since 2000-02-02
Posts 664INDIA/MAHARASHTRA/PUNE |
Imaginative...well written good story teller... : ) If all was light...then I would have never learnt the dark...from which such truth evolves from which evolves the light... Avanti Rao |
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LoveBug
Moderator
Member Elite
since 2000-01-08
Posts 4697 |
Chris, what a story! I usually don't go for stuff like this, but how can you not love this? I know I'll be buying this one day! Will you autograph it for me? Just put "To my best friend and greatest source of inspiration..." "We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." -Oscar Wilde "The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief" -Shakespea |
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