PREPARATION IS EVERYTHING

Doyle called yesterday and I agreed to meet him this morning at the Woodbridge Mall - the lower level in front of Sears at 9:30. There's some benches there. He showed up with a box and some coffee from Dunkin Donuts.

"Want a donut?"
"No thanks."
"OK. I'll get right to it." He put his stuff down, and pulled out an envelope from his inside, coat pocket. "You'll need to sign these, first."
"What are they?"
"The paperwork I had to get done . . you know, to set up the account and get you on the records as a consultant."
"A consultant? What the hell is that?"
"A formality. I had to list you as something, even though you're part-time, and this looks better then Random Killer."
"OK . . OK. " I took them, and looked them over quickly. There was no reason not to sign them. I did, and handed them back. He put them back into his pocket.
"Now what?"
Do you have any questions before we begin?"
"Would you have made this offer to anyone who got Jimmy's heart?"
"Well, that would've depended on how the recipient recovered and their physical abilities afterwards but, probably yes. Having the tracker already in place also makes a difference."
"What tracker?"
"Oh, I guess I forgot that. There's a tracker embedded in the heart already and we won't have to go to any elaborate lengths to keep tabs on you."
"What are you talking about? When did this happen?"
"It's a bio-electric implant that can only be read by specific equipment which, obviously your hospital didn't have. It was implanted in Jimmy when he joined DHS, and we thought it would stop when he died. Apparently, when they did what they did to keep the organs viable, they had the heart in a state that kept the implant in stasis. Once it was transplanted into you, and beating on its own, the signal started up again. It won't hurt you, and it lets us know where you are at all times. Trust me, it's a good thing."
"All right, look, I'm not crazy about this whole thing in the first place. Let's get on with it. What else do you want me to know right now."
"You need to know how to use this." He took a cylindrical object, about the size of a wrapper of nickles, from his side pocket and showed it to me.
"What is it?"
"It's called a Flasher, although I think there's a more accurate, scientific name for it. It emits an electro-magnetic pulse guaranteed up to 50 feet."
"And that's good for . . . ?"
"Creating Random Events. You point it at you Event Target, push the button, and it releases a pulse that stops all biological functions within whatever it comes in contact with. Instantly. Here's how you hold it." He extended his pointer and middle finger, and folded in the other two. The cylinder had a small fin on one side that lay within the space between the two extended fingers, and a slightly raised button on the opposite side. "You hold the Flasher like this so it lies along the line of the extended fingers. You fold your thumb down over the back of the cylinder, and it should rest across the raised button. All you have to do is point at you target, and press the button with the side of your thumb. That releases the pulse. There's no noise, just a brief, intense flash of light, hence the name Flasher. It can be used in either hand. This is just a test version, and is actually just a laser pointer, but go ahead and try it."
I took the Flasher from him, and held it in my left hand. It was surprisingly light and easy to use. I pointed it at him and squeezed. A red light appeared on his chest.
"See? Easy." He held out his hand.
I gave it back to him.
"Now, I have a real Flasher here for you, but there's a few things you need to know. One, you can't use it on anyone from DHS. Those implants not only serve as tracking mechanisms but will diffuse a Flasher blast so it becomes ineffective. Two, this Flasher is a Level 1 which means you get one shot, then it needs to be recharged for about 20 hours, so figure a day. Three, you're on your own. We won't specify any targets. These are all to be Random Events of your choosing. Be careful so you don't cluster them. You don't want anyone to get suspicious. Spread them out. Area wise and time wise. The only thing we ask is that you create at least twelve events within the next six months. That's the time frame approved by the People Upstairs. Then they'll reevaluate the program. Whatever they decide, I'll let you know. If they decide to terminate the program, I'll make sure that that doesn't include you. Also, if by some fluke, someone figures this out and comes after you, we will protect you. We'll start throwing around the Patriot Act, and put you somewhere safe. Now, I gotta be somewhere, so if you have any other questions they'll have to wait till I can arrange to meet with you again. I'd start working on your Random Events soon cause the clock started ticking when we spoke last week."

With that, he was gone, leaving me with a Flasher, a deadline, a whole lot of doubt, and a huge headache. I find that I'm looking at people differently now.

ARC 1

IN THE BEGINNING . . . If you're going to plagiarize you might as well steal from someone who won't sue you and take something catchy!!

Before I do begin I have to tell you that this is all ----

BASED ON A TRUE STORY
As a transplant recipient, I have to go back periodically for a biopsy and/or blood work. The biopsy makes sure there are no signs of rejection, and the blood work monitors my med levels and other organ functions. The last time I was there, after the biopsy, I went to my doctor's office as usual. A tall man was there already, but I thought nothing of it. When I came out, he approached me.

"Glad to see you're doing OK Mr. O'Neill."
"Do I know you?"
"No, but I knew your donor and I'd like to talk to you if you have some time."
"Well, I've got a bus to catch, but . . . OK, lets, uh, lets talk."

We went to the cafeteria. He got a blueberry muffin and coffee and I had a danish and apple juice. We found a table a little removed from the other eaters.

"So, you knew my donor?"
"Yeah. He worked for me." With that he opened a wallet that he'd taken from an inside jacket pocket. Shiny badge and an ID card from Homeland Security. His picture, and the last name of Doyle.
"OK. Agent Doyle is it?"
"Just Doyle. OK if I call you Denny? It makes the conversation easier."
"Yeah sure. Whatever. How does this affect me? Did my donor die while on duty?"
"No. Nothing like that. Jimmy was shot in a random act. Wrong place at the wrong time sorta thing."
"Jimmy? His name was Jimmy?"
"Yeah. But let me back up a little. Do you know what Homeland Security does?"
"Well, I guess you're supposed to make sure nothing like 9/11 ever happens again."
"Right. You might say we're tasked to protect our resources as well, right?"
"OK."
"And these resources would include our food supplies and power sources. right?"
"Yeah."
"Good. So you'd agree that Homeland Security has the responsibility to protect our food and power supplies from being depleted or used by unwanted sources, right?"
"Yeah. But where's this going?"
"I'm getting to it. You see, Jimmy made a proposal about 6 or 8 months before he died. It addressed these points, but I wasn't too sure so I asked him to put it in writing. He did but I just filed it away. After he died, I remembered it. I took it out, sent it upstairs, and they've just OK'd a pilot program."
"OK. I'm happy for you and Jimmy, but what has this to do with me? I have a bus to catch."
"C'mon. I'll drive you home and fill you in on the way."

We went down to the garage, making small talk. It never occurred to me to offer him directions or give him my address. He does work for the government after all. When we pulled out of the garage, he started.

"Remember how I asked you about protecting our food and power supplies? Well, Jimmy's proposal addressed that. It specified a particular threat - illegal aliens. They are not contributing to our society and yet draining our resources."

I started to protest, but he interrupted.

"Hold on. Let me finish. I'm not going into any specifics, but the People Upstairs liked it and it was implemented on a trial basis a couple of months ago. They now want to look at an offshoot of the proposal. This is where you come in." He paused, unsure of how to continue.
"Go on . . how do I fit in?"
"Well, Jimmy's proposal also had a minor addition that we might potentially want to remove other non-productive types for using our resources. Read in here the elderly and/or disabled..."
"Wait a minute, I'm on disability...are you saying I'm to be removed?"
"No, no, no... that wouldn't be fair. We don't want to target a specific sub-type of the overall population. We want it to be random. Like Jimmy's death. That's where you come in. I liked Jimmy because he had heart, and now you have it. Jimmy's heart that is. Someone will be given the means to remove people, randomly, from the population. I'd like it to be you."
"You want me to remove people? You mean kill them?"
"Well, KILL is such a harsh word, but, . . yes . . kill them. This reduces the demand on our resources."
"You gotta be kidding me! What if I refuse? I could go to the cops, the press?"
"First of all, you wouldn't be believed. Secondly, we'd just wave around the Patriot Act and everything would disappear. And thirdly, someone's gonna do it. We wanted random eliminations, but we could always "suggest" a target or two. You do have family, don't you? A daughter?"
"You wouldn't!"
"Me? No, of course not. But I wouldn't be in charge then. I told them I'd only do this if you were the random element. It's like I'd still be working with Jimmy."
"I . .I. . I gotta think about this." I was stalling. I knew what he said was right. No one would believe me, they could hush it up easily, and my family was being threatened. He knew that I knew.
"If I say yes, what happens? You put me on the payroll or something?"
"Nope. Fraid not. You're on disability, after all. That's part of the beauty of this. We'll setup an account and for every lets call them random events - will deposit $1,000. You'll have access to it, of course. And we'll see that it goes to your heirs after you're gone."
"I don't have a car, so I'm limited to where I can travel."
"Again. Part of the plan. You can more accurately control the event. I can't really be more detailed until I know you're committed. What'dya say?"
"Maybe I outta be committed, but I don't see as I have much of a choice. I'm in."

We pulled up in front of my apartment.

"It goes without saying that you can't say anything to anybody. I have some paperwork to clear up, and some preliminary work to do. I'll be in touch in a day or two. When your phone rings, and the name on the screen is James, it's me. Pick it up."

With that, I got out of the car, and he drove away. I didn't think to look at the license plate. What the hell did I just do?

Youth in Asia

Whatever you may read here - from today on - is fictitious. This is why I'm not using my real name. However, anyone reading this knows who I am. My circumstances up till today are real, it's just the stuff I make up going forward - which may or may not include any one I know - that is not real. Get it?