O: Cops

Cops

As Crete frantically entered the police vehicle through the rear hatch,
he shouted at Tag.

"Shut the damn thing, man!"

Crete looked around and saw the many human faces pressed against the 1"
thick Plexiglas hatch.

"Damn, Tag, it's three o'clock in the morning. Why'd you want to go out
there?and how'd you piss all them Streets off in the middle of the
night, man?"

Tag slightly extended his arms, palms up, and shrugged, indicating he
didn't know.

"I was just takin' a look around, steppin' quietly, tryin' to get a
sense if anything was happenin', you know?"

"I'm going to have to lower the snowplow. Can't believe I'm doing this
at this time of the night, but the Streets are crowding around the
front, too."

He pushed the yellow button situated to the right of the ignition
switch and a mechanical hum answered. The arrow-shaped plow dropped to
its business position directly in front of the cruiser. Its job today
was to move Streets, not snow.

Streets are the people who live on sidewalks, lawns and fields in old,
run down neighborhoods. Over the last hundred or so years the
population of the country, in fact the whole world, has skyrocketed.
People couldn't purchase houses for exclusive use anymore. They had day
rights or night rights. Twelve hours per day leasehold, all owned by
the rich folk in the domed cities. And families were lucky to get that.
The alternative is to live as a Street.

As Crete moved forward, the faces on the hatch grew smaller, but the
bloody spots on the Plexiglas were blocking his view. He pulled the
Pol-Remote from its platform and in a few seconds the outside rear
window was cleaned.

Tag's mouth formed a slight smirk. Crete commiserated with the Streets
but would not show it.

The tractor-like treads of the vehicle moved it forward slowly, and cut
a path through the Streets as surely as a laser. Tag thought little
about the nature of the occasional 'bump' in the road as they headed
back to SeattleDome. Crete felt each one deep inside. The police car
had a bubble top; bullet proof. Before either of the officers stepped
out they took a good look around, then checked the Doppler for the
number of Streets nearby. To fail this is to forfeit your life.

Eventually the vehicle crawled away from the most crowded areas. There
was trouble everywhere, so it was not a matter of finding crimes, but
to watch for suspected slave traders, or much worse. The grillroomers
were the single most feared group in America. They were owners of
eating establishments all over the world. They lured streets into
employment with promises of a dry place to sleep and two meals a
day.

As soon as they were transported to the barracks where the real
employees lived, the streets were killed and their meat combined with
artificial substances and sold as a specialty food. Obviously, this was
not popularly known. Frankly, it only became an issue when one of our
politicians lost a daughter to the 'specialty' blends. Prior to that,
it was a relief to the authorities that someone was culling the
herd.

In about an hour, Crete and Tag could see the lights of SeattleDome.
Years ago, it became clear the population was going to explode
regardless of the efforts by those organizations created to stop it, or
at least slow it down. The wealthiest people, the powerful people,
decided to protect themselves, to create a world of their own. This
movement started in Seattle, Washington, where these wealthy people
erected a dome around the city twenty miles across. From West Seattle
to Edmonds, from Redmond to the waters of Elliot Bay.

The structure was impenetrable. There was egress at guarded gates
around the dome, but police were regularly dispatched to check the
status of the Streets. There was little conflict. The food supplied to
the Streets from helicopters by the grillroomers was not high in
nutrients, so they had little strength to spare in struggle.

"PolCreeper Six, we have you on screen." Came the voice of the
dispatcher within the dome.

"Roger, dispatch. Six inward bound at gate thirty-one. Be there in a
couple of minutes, Rhonda."

"Okay, Tag. Please tell me you don't have that bug-ugly Crete with you.
We've been thinkin' 'bout letting him stay out there with the
Streets."

Crete grabbed the microphone.

"Oh, so, funny, Rhonda." The only thing funnier is the size of your
butt!"

They all had a good laugh.

As Tag navigated the PolCreeper to its parking location inside the
dome, Crete used his wrist phone to call Rhonda.
"Can we talk?"

"When?" She replied.

"Coffee in about an hour, at Stafford's caf?? That ok with you?"

"Ok. But don't say anything to anyone else. I have some news, or should
I say rumors, to tell you about. Heavy stuff, Crete."

"Got ya. See you in a few."

Crete had shared his circumstances with Rhonda some time last year. He
had mated with a Street he met on a round-up and it resulted in her
becoming pregnant. He really wanted to see the baby and help it if he
could. He knew that he would lose his job if he were caught, and worse,
could become a Street, too.

Individual transportation within the dome was by the PeepBelt, an
electrical powered conveyor belt about five feet wide. If you could not
get there via the PeepBelt, it was somewhere you weren't supposed to
be.

Rhonda was on her second latte when Crete arrived. Her face told much
of the story. A normally smiling face showed unnatural strain, and she
must have been deep in thought since he got right to the table before
she noticed him.

"Damn, Crete, you startled me!"

"Sorry, Rhonda. I just walked up like always."

"Any luck?" She said as she passed a hand through her wind-tangled
hair.

He slowly shook his head, and Rhonda could see the worry on his face.
Well, her news wouldn't make it any better for him.

"When's the last time you had any information about her, Crete?"

"I guess its been somewhere around a year now. Amazing that I don't
remember the exact date. Even more amazing that I didn't find out
exactly where they were sleeping. They're Streets, for Christ's
sake!"

"Don't beat yourself up. You'll find her. But?do it soon."

Crete looked up fast.

"Tell me."
"Not here?"

"Tell me now." He leaned in and said through gritted teeth.

"Listen, I live close by, lets stop at the open market, pick up a few
things for dinner and go to my apartment, shall we?"

"Listen, what?."

"Just do it, Crete." Sternly.

He got it.

"Ok."

After arriving at Rhonda's apartment, she turned on the house music
system and escorted Crete to the bathroom. She shut the door behind
them.

"Sorry, Crete, I don't know who's listening around here. I know they
listen to some people because I transcribe the reports to the holonote
system. I attended the meeting last night of the SeattleDome Advisory
Board with Advisor Bowers, and the continued increase of the numbers of
the Streets was on the agenda. Damn, Crete. They want to reduce the
numbers by sterilizing them, without their knowledge, by misting them
with HumEnd from the food helicopters. Goddamn animals!"

"What! When?."

"Five days from today. That would be Sunday, on the early 'copter food
run."

"Damn, that'd be over 100 helicopters spraying that crap out. Don't
they remember that the reason they stopped using it many years ago was
because of the mortality rate? It flat out killed so many young and
elderly people!"

"Do you think Bowers cares? If I remember correctly, she turned old man
Corrion over to the Board, and they sent that pitiful man out with the
Streets. I hear he went crazy and killed himself."

"Ok. I gotta think here. Five days. Jesus."

Rhonda rose and opened the bathroom door and crossed to the
kitchen.

"Crete, let's do some cookin'!" For the benefit of any listeners.

He walked out of the bath with a grim face. She looked at him and
pantomimed a big smile, he got the message.

"Oh. I'm hungry." Not a good actor.

They awoke next to each other. Both were surprised to be there, but
neither regretted it.

"I've gotta go. I have to meet Tag for the patrol. At least we're going
to what I think is the right sector today. Out near Burien. That's
where I hope they are, she said she's got friends that way."

***

The PolCreeper was humming nicely when Crete opened the final security
door to the bay in the outer skin of the dome. Tag was waiting by the
hatch to the creeper.

"Hey, Crete, ready to go, man?" Perfect white teeth showing.

Crete smiled back, hiding his feelings.

"Let's kick some ass, buddy!"

They secured the little dome of the creeper, pushed the zebra-striped
button on the PolRemote, and the bay doors opened, slowly and silently.
Four heavily armed cops were there in the event Streets had hidden and
tried to get in. But the dome has a kill view of 100 yards around it
just in case of something like that, so it would be very
difficult.

The inside of the creeper looked much like the controls of old airjets.
As they left, the two checked internal oxygen, filters, ammunition,
arms, medpacks, etc. A thumbs up from each was the signal that all was
ok.

"Wonder what's up in Burien?" Crete said as nonchalantly as
possible.

"Beats me. I heard there was some kind of Street meeting or something.
We're just to drive around a bit and take a few pictures."

The drive to Burien was uneventful. The landscape was as usual. No
remaining trees. People milling around waiting for the food
helicopters. All staring at the PolCreeper. Their mouths would move,
but you didn't want to know what they were saying.

As they left the flat trail that is the tract of an ancient highway,
Tag thought he saw a group of Streets suddenly dash behind an
embankment. He sped the creeper up, and as he rounded the mound of
earth he was shocked.

About 60-70 people were in a group, standing behind a tubular device.
At the exact moment Tag and Crete recognized the old air defense
cannon, the end of it closest to them exploded in fire and white smoke.
Before Tag's brain could instruct his hand to act, the shot hit the top
of the dome, blowing a large piece off and wrecking the front of the
creeper. Tag and Crete had deep scratches on their faces and looked
worse than they were.

A man stuck his head in the open area of the dome with an old
pistol.

"Which of you is Dannie Luvera, known as 'Crete'?

Crete wiped the blood dripping from his brow down over his right
eye.

"That'd be me."

The Street quickly turned the pistol to Tag and shot him between the
eyes. The bloody gray of the brain mixed with the mess already there
from the rocket. Crete put his hand over his face in a reflexive
move.

"C'mon, Crete, let's get out of here fast. We're friends of Lisa. And
her?your?child. Move, man!"

Crete's body was in gear, but his mind was still with the semi-headless
Tag in the dome.

"Where is she?" Asked Crete.

"We're on the way there now, hold on." From the man who gave Tag the
facial.
As they neared the Puget Sound Basin, where an ocean used to be, the
group dropped down a steep incline and rounded a point, and there was
about 100 people around several campfires.
At the edge of the crowd nearest Crete was a tall woman with long,
black hair. At the sight of Crete, she ran towards him, and when they
met they were a tangled mess of arms, punctuated by kisses and
smiles.

"Oh, Dannie, I'm so glad to see you! I didn't think?"

"I know, I know. I didn't think I would ever see?"

"Do you want to see her?"

Crete's eyes filled with tears, but he fought hard against them. He
just took a deep breath and nodded yes. Lisa let go of him and entered
a Yurt that had been erected below the cliff, and came with a two year
old, child with Raven hair. Crete stepped over to her. He was a bit
afraid to pick her up with his big paws.

"This is your father, sweetheart."

The word 'father' hit him like a jealous husband. The child let go of
her mother's hand and walked over to Crete. She reached out with her
hand. All Crete could do was stare at her.

"She wants you to take her hand."

He did. It was full of bees to him. He did not remember ever shaking
before. He kneeled down to her.

"Hi."

The child smiled and put her arms around his neck.

"What's her name?'

"Ask her."

"What's your name, honey?"

"Amanda."

He stood, picked Amanda up and walked to Lisa. He put one arm around
her, and the three of them stood, faces touching, for a moment.

"Dannie, the man who found you is my father, Marc. He needs to talk to
you. It's important."

"Yeah. I gotta talk to him, too. The SeattleDome people are
planning?"
"We know. That's what he has to discuss with you."

"We have to get you and the rest out of here fast?"

"Talk to Marc, Crete."

He turned and looked at the grandfather of his child. The man looked
tough. And smart. He was glad of that. He crossed over to him, and put
out his hand. Marc took it.

"Let's walk over to the sitting tree area-over there." Marc
pointed.

Crete and two others follow Marc over.

"Marc, the Advisory Board of SeattleDome is planning to?"

Marc interrupted.

"Yes, Crete, we know. What you don't know is that there has been a
council of the Domed Cities all across the west coast that has
conspired to gas as many Streets as possible. Killing hundreds of
thousands. Starts in three days."

Crete's face turned hard.

"Jesus!" He shook his head.

"What do we do? I don't think there is any way to get in the dome,
so?"

Marc put his hand up to silence them all.

"I think we have the answer for this immediate area. But we will have
to move as many of us as possible to the foothills near the old Black
Diamond. Will you help?"

"What are you ?"

"Trust me, Crete. I'll trust you. But lets get this people out of here.
Now."

For the next few hours, Marc and Crete hurried all the clan in their
packing. They wanted to be out of here by night. The cops would be
looking for the creeper sometime after midnight, and they had to be
long gone by then.

At about 5PM the group was moving, two and three abreast, towards the
foothills of the old mountain. Crete, Marc, and some of the other men
were hurrying them up.

At 10:00, Marc halted the procession so they could rest. At 10:15 they
stood and continued. Crete had slowed a bit to walk beside Lisa and
Amanda. The three held hands for awhile. Amanda in her father's
arms.

At midnight, Marc halted the group again, just for a moment.

"OK. The cops are looking for the creeper now. They will find it
quickly. Then it will not take them long to figure out the ambush. They
will kill us all. Pick up your feet, walk as fast as you can, we only
have about an hour's march remaining to where we have to be."

He tu;rned and called to them.

"Let's go!"

An hour later, they reached an area high in the foothills with a good
view of SeattleDome. He had the clan move into the hidden, rocky area
below a precipice, and remain there. He motioned to Crete and some of
the men, and some of the women, to join him.

As you all know, we learned of the holocaust we faced because one of
the Advisory Board members couldn't face the murder of innocents. We
have taken steps-very drastic steps-to prevent this from happening.
They were to start the annihilation tomorrow night. In all domed cities
simultaneously. We had to stop them, so we sent a note to the Board of
each of them, citing SeattleDome as an example of the consequences of
their actions. It's about time. If each of you will stand, and face the
mountain?"

"But that's away from SeattleDome!"

Crete got it, now.

Marc's brow furrowed.

"Yes. Whatever any of you do, stare only towards the old mountain.
You'll know when to look back."

They all complied. There was a line of about 15 men and women standing,
holding hands, watching the old mountain for what seemed forever. Then
the mountain lit up. Like a flash. Then the ground rumbled like a
terrible quake. Then the whole area was lit like the heavens
opened.

When the light started to dim, they all turned around. Where the dome
had been was a mushroom cloud filling the sky. It was punctuated at the
bottom by a ball of white fire. Everyone was amazed. Everyone
numb.

Marc spoke.

"Let's start a new home now, shall we?"
He looked over behind the boulder near them.

"Come with us. Start a new life with us. You will be welcome."

All eyes watched Advisor Bowers enter the little group.