By The Hermit

Horace Greeley said, "Go West young man, go West. This became one of the most popular sayings during the California Gold Rush days...I decided to take it to the extreme...and achieve... "Peace on Earth"

Sergeant Charlie 3 listened intently to the frantic voice, as he entered data into his terminal. "Calm down, Leona 4," he spoke soothingly, "you have nothing to worry about. You say your daughter, Melody 2, was supposed to arrive on bus 2704, but the children told you she never got on the bus." He listened to the rapid rattle of angry words.

"Come now, Leona, even security officers have to answer the call of nature sometimes. Let's see now...Melody 2 left the school bus-stop data recorder in the company of Justin 3-15-11-23. Hmmm that makes him 53 years old. Do you know a Justin 3 about 53 years old?"

" Well, that makes it an abduction then. They are just passing data recorder 11253N by 23542E. Leona, I've activated the SWAT team. They will deactivate the vehicle, and when it stops, I will deactivate Justin 3-15-11-23. Your daughter should be home in Hmmmm about twenty-two minutes. Thank you for calling -- Glad the Los Angeles Police Department could be of service."

Charlie leaned back in his wrap-around chair reflecting on how completely different things were now from the old days. He'd read history books about times in L.A. when children would disappear and never be found. How crime got so bad full time martial law went into effect. The dusk til dawn curfews finally brought on the last but worst Civil War. It lasted from 2010 to 2013 and the streets literally ran red with blood, but the Law and Order Party prevailed.

They built the solar powered data recorders and installed them every 1,000 yards across the country. They had battery back up and a simple Central Processing Unit which recorded all incoming signals and stored them until the memory was full. Then it started dumping the oldest as newer input arrived. The incoming signal was sent by a small sending unit that was surgically implanted in every person in the nation.

Because of their being so many duplicate names, each citizen became unique by having choice in their first name. the second digit/s was the order in which that first name came into being on that day...Charlie 3 was the third Charlie born on the day he arrived. The next number was that day, the next, the month and the next the year.

So, Justin 3 born 15th. of Nov., 2023 was recorded leaving the data recorder with Melody 2, and as they passed data recorders the information accumulated. One search query sent through the network of overlapping data recorders and the absolute location came back almost instantaneously.

Crime was almost a thing of the past; although, every once in a while a rebel would try to convince people that freedom was more valuable than the safety and security provided by the State. Charlie 3 shook his head sadly, people like that cause nothing but trouble and really didn't understand the reassuring feeling an implant gave a person. Knowing that you couldn't ever get truly lost, or if you had an accident, as soon as you were late help would arrive. I'd sure hate to be without mine.

The United States is a very large area of land to cover with data recorders, and in order to convince a populace wanting to believe, all it took was the constantly repeated claim that the entire surface of the land was crosshatched with these recorders, and they soon believed. The real truth was that there were many area so rough and so inhospitable to humans that they didn't bother. There were badlands and deserts where they believed no humans could survive, but the kind of humans who could, did. And they were the kind of humans the State tried and failed to hunt into extinction.

Brad Billings was one of the survivors; a battle-scarred freedom fighter who had survived and gathered a fierce band of desperate outcasts in the process. They fought against the technology of the state with primitive weapons, communicated using ancient C-B radios and burrowed into mother Earth like moles to escape detection.

Brad didn't take just anyone into his band of freedom fighters, he was constantly screening and searching for remnants of the technical society that had opposed the Orwellian approach to populace control -- scientist who opposed the concept of big brother watching as you went to the bathroom or made love to your wife. He had found a few...not many, but a few. Now he was looking for some old time foundry people and engineers.

He and a young electronics tech were tracing circuitry when he got the message. "Damn, they got Jason before he could drop off the girl. Automatically, they figured he was guilty of something, so that damn butcher deactivated him. Then when he didn't die, they figured he had a phony implant and cut him down with a laser. I thought you said that implant was a dup. of one of those teachers."

Clyde, the tech looked embarrassed, "I didn't check it out personally -- I'm sorry, but would it have made any difference? Once the alarm goes out, whoever is with the girl is suspect."

"Yes, you're right, but one of these days I'm going to kill that murdering bastard who monitors this district and deactivates so many people without even letting them explain their side of the story."

Clyde asked, "Why not kidnap him and use him in our first test? I can't think of anyone I'd feel less sorry about, if it doesn't work right the very first time."

"Great idea," Brad replied, "If he survives, I'll kill him myself when I get back there. Now let's get back to work." He knew they were getting close to succeeding and could also feel the need for a speedy conclusion to the current series of tests. The odds were getting smaller all the time against keeping their experiments secret because of the need to keep increasing the power used. The damned SWATs were bound to detect them soon.

They had arrived at their plan to escape the oppressive life of total control and zero privacy quite by accident. The quiet atmosphere of the electronics lab had been shattered by the discovery of a wild jack-rabbit hiding on a shelf reserved for radio parts. His hair was singed and smelled acrid -- similar to after a lightening strike. Other than that he appeared to be in good physical shape. They scooted him out the door and watched as he hopped off into the distance, wondering how he had managed to get into the locked workshop. They checked for openings but found none. There wasn't any way the bunny could have gotten in without human help. Then began the game of guessing who was the practical joker.

Their research project was pathetically crude. They were trying to develop their own laser weapons to afford some measure of protection from marauding bands of other rebel forces and the Control forces. They salvaged an old geo-thermal generator. It utilized six parabolic mirrors on sun-tracking platforms, a huge brass steam-boiler and a steam powered generator. The parabolic mirrors were the key to the project the rest was window dressing. They worked for two years cutting and hand polishing a huge, crystal prism. It stood on a turntable under the hollow, bottomless, brass steam-boiler, and when the boiler was lifted up the sun's rays were concentrated on the prism which focused a tight beam of incredibly hot energy at their target.

It wasn't a laser, but it would be an effective weapon if they needed it. So far, they hadn't tested it; however, working night and day and with the help of many cups of caffeine laden coffee, Brad was ready to test a week after the bunny incident. They decided on trying the first test at sunrise because they were like kids with their first rocket...they had no idea how strong it might be and they didn't want to attract attention to the area.

His people double checked the area to make sure it was clear. Brad had selected a small shack located in a field about one mile to the West as his target. While Clyde prepared the equipment, Brad set up the telescope and cameras that would record the event. Now all they had to do was wait for the full sunrise. At last the full red orb was visible on the horizon. Brad waited five more minutes logged the time and date and said,

"Now, Clyde!" Clyde hit the big round button on the console and the shack disappeared in a bright flash.

"Jesus !! That was quick. I didn't see a damn thing. I hope the high speed camera got more than my pea-brain did. Clyde, you record all the machine settings and let's call it a day. I think we've got ourselves a cannon, folks." Clyde grinned like a kid and whispered ,

"Sure wish it would work in the dark."

Later when they were studying the film, Clyde pointed to one spot near the shack.

"That sure looks like our jackrabbit, don't it?" Brad looked as he held the magnifying glass.

"Sure does, don't guess he'll be breaking in here again -- poor critter. He never knew what hit him. That reminds me, Clyde, I hate to do it, but we need the data; next test I'd like you to stake out several animals at varying distances from the target area. We've got to know where the danger zone ends. We don't want to be killing our own people if we are under attack." Clyde nodded saying nothing.

Their next test was a little more scientific. They used the stump of an old oak tree for their target. The stump was located a good mile East of their test site in the middle of a barren patch of ground. There were many such patches left over evidence of chemical warfare at its worst. They tied a long wire rope to the stump and stretched its length out until it was taut. At 20 foot intervals they tied a goat until they had a line of goats 100 feet out from the stump.

When the sun came fully into view, Clyde fired the weapon. He looked up from the view finder into Brad's shocked face,

"Christ, Clyde, they're all gone -- there's nothing left of them not even any fur. Good God, what have we stumbled on to? Obviously we can't increase the power until we understand more about this damn thing. Lets build a miniature and experiment with it before we go any farther with this thing."

Clyde agreed and for the next week the whole crew worked night and day on the new project. It was on the morning of the eighth day that all hell broke loose. Brad and Clyde arrived at the lab at the same time, and Clyde held Brad's briefcase while Brad unlocked the lab security doors. When they walked inside the place was a shambles -- papers were scattered everywhere, equipment was on the floor and five goats were munching on a pile of papers. They each had a short piece of burnt rope dangling from their neck.

Brad left the cleanup to the crew and went back outside. Clyde watched him pacing back and forth beside his car and knew better than to intrude. Finally Brad returned and went to the fire controls of the weapon. He looked to where the shack had stood then turned and gazed at where the stump once stood. He beckoned to Clyde, and when Clyde joined him he grinned and started with,

"You're gonna think I'm nutty as a fruit cake, but I don't think we blasted those critters out of existence. I think we disassembled them down into something that could be blasted through space so fast they went faster than time itself. And when they slowed down they came right back here and got reassembled."

"Don't ask me how. I haven't the foggiest, but it all makes sense. The shack was West of us and the Earth is rotating from West to East -- so the bunny got blasted into the past, and we saw the bunny all frizzled a week before we blasted him and scorched his fur. The stump is West of us -- so when we blasted the stump the goats were blasted a week into the future because the Earth is rotating toward the future or toward the East. Get it?"

Clyde wobbled his head in several directions and said no. Then laughed and admitted he didn't have any explanation that made any sense at all, so this one at least could be tested and proven, so they'd better figure out a way to contain the beam so they didn't accidentally start importing stuff they didn't want in the lab -- like hungry goats!

They decided to avoid sending stuff into the past because they had only been involved for a few months and anything that arrived before they started would be useless evidence. It wasn't long before they had the machine calibrated with the angle of the sun and found that by calculation at peak power output from the sun, they could theoretically send something 200 years into the future.

Clyde had only one negative reaction, "Brad," he said, "I hate to be a killjoy, but even if we're positive this will work to that extent, we'll never be able to prove it. None of us will be around 200 years from now to check out any evidence one of us might leave in the future as proof. However, we just might be able to prove a trip into the far past if the evidence is there already."

Brad thought a moment and smiled, "I see what you mean. Your a damn genius, boy! I think I know how to do it. You tie me to a post out by that shack and gather a crowd of reliable witnesses. Kidnap that murdering bastard, Sergeant Charlie 3 and tie him right next to me. Then borrow something personal from someone in the group like a watch with an inscription or anything hard to duplicate, and have them stick it into my pocket where I can't reach it. Then zap the hell out of us. Send us back one hundred years into the past.

When we are gone, go up to the big Hollywood Sign overlooking Hollywood. We know it's still standing. Look in the first "Oh" and get the evidence back. I'll put it there as soon as I can get up there.

Everything went well as planned...they dragged a kicking screaming Charlie 3 to the stake and tied him in place. He was so angry he was almost foaming at the mouth,

"You lowlife scum will pay for this. The SWAT will be here in minutes and you'll all be deactivated! And I hope they leave you deactivated for years!" Brad looked at him in disbelief he suddenly realizing the stupid bastard thought he was just temporarily turning people off -- he didn't know he had murdered hundreds. There was a blinding flash and Brad thought about nothing...

Charlie Bronson knew he was doing something horribly wrong, but somehow it felt so wonderfully right that he couldn't stop pulling the trigger. Long after the gun was empty and the huge body had quit twitching he kept jerking at the trigger until he collapsed to the ground and started sobbing. Next, up came the hard-to-come-by "Silver Satin wine" he'd scored earlier in the evening until he was so weak he couldn't stand.

Earl stirred and moved -- he was covered with blood, but wasn't dead after all, thank God for that! He crawled over to Charlie and whispered, "Gawd, Charlie, you really shot the shit outa that bastard. Ya saved my ass, Charlie. He had me by the hair and was whackin at my throat with that blade, and I was bleeding so bad I couldn't see. I knew I was a goner....all that shootin, we better haul ass outa here." Their cardboard beds were so blood soaked they just grabbed their bedrolls, threw them into the shopping carts and hurried down the dark alley.

It wasn't until they were safely hidden inside the storm drain tunnel they called home that the reaction started. Charlie started shaking and crying like a baby. He wrapped his arms around his boney knees and rocked back and forth until Earl finally shouted at him,

"God Dammit Charlie, knock it off! I'm sitting here bleeding to death and you're acting like a punk kid. Didn't you tell me about all those Viet Cong you bagged in Nam? Was that all a lie? Hell, even if they wuz just war stories, you sure were a hero tonight. That big bastard was killing me and you saved my life. That's good enough for me...now come on finish the job -- start patching me up and quit yer sniveling, okay?"

Charlie quit crying and started tearing his t-shirt into strips. He made pads out of what was left, and when he was finished wrapping Earl's wounds, Earl looked kinda grotesque; however, the bleeding had stopped. Charlie sat leaning back against the wall opposite Earl and started talking,

"Earl, my friend, I really want to explain why I reacted the way I did, but if I tell you the whole story, I afraid you'll think I belong in the loonie bin. If you're really my friend, you'll at least try to believe me. To start with, that's the first time I've ever seen anyone die. I've never even seen blood before. It was horrible, and what I did went against everything I was taught about right and wrong. I knew it was wrong when I did it, but Earl, it felt so right; and may God forgive me -- I thoroughly enjoyed doing it. That's what shook me up so much."

"Christ, Charlie, where on Earth have you been that you never saw anyone die or even saw anyone bleed? You musta been born and raised on an island somewhere."

"Not on Earth as you know it Earl, not as you know it," came the cryptic reply.

"What d'ya mean by that?"

Detective Sergeant Brad Billings stepped out of the darkness and spoke,

"Well, Charlie 3, I see you've been busy deactivating the bad guys again. Why don't you just tell your friend that you were isolated from the real world for a long time, but now you're learning fast.....See ya, Charlie"

He then turned and disappeared into the darkness of the Los Angeles night. [END]