This episode was supposed to be one chapter, but it wound up so long I had to split it in two. I think I got a little carried away with the description of the "Little Cuz" scam, but I was having so much fun with it, it seemed a shame to edit it down. And if my depiction of future street hustlers and hacker scams seems a bit naive... I can only respond by taking pride in my ignorance of such activities. ;-) Bry
Alive
A fan fiction in progress
by Bryan Harrison
Pt. 12
1
An opening suddenly appeared at the end of a long dark hallway. David rose on his elbow, cupping his eyes against the bright beam of light emanating from beyond the door.
Voices. He heard voices. There was some type of meeting going on. What could they be discussing so late in the night?
He stood and moved quietly over the cold floor, careful not to wake any of the sleeping gang. But as he made his way through the dark he suddenly realized that they were not here. He surveyed the empty room. He was alone. Where had they all gone?
"Should we show him everything?"
The voice from beyond the door caught David's attention. Where had he heard that voice? Were they talking about him? He tip-toed down the hall.
"He's not ready," said someone.
"No one is ever really ready," said another.
"This is different. He is different," said a gentle, wise voice.
David knew these voices. He pressed against the wall, positioning himself so that he could see into the room. The décor seemed so familiar. The furniture was green… and the floor, a dark polished wood. His heart jumped. How could this be?
"You can't have it both ways," said another voice, deep and mocking. "He can't be special and ordinary at the same time. It's one or the other."
"Paradox," said the wise one "It's because he is the first."
"First, ha!" said a spiteful voice. "He's a damned parasite on the body of humanity! A scourge!" But this voice was impossible! He'd seen the man die, flailing in the grip of a raging flame that grew beyond control and engulfed the forest.
David pushed through the door and stood immobilized by what he saw. A flood of conflicting emotions rose from his chest and brought tears to his face. He was home; the place where he had first learned the sacred meaning of love and hate; trust and betrayal.
Seated on a couch in the center of the room, the same couch from where he had once watched his family go about their incomprehensible Orga lives, was the strange council that had been discussing his fate. They all turned to gaze on him with mixed expressions. He knew their faces.
Alan Hobby was there. His creator…. or the creator of the boy he had once been. The man's smile was radiant; and duplicitous. Henry was there too, seated on the couch, scowling over his shoulder at David. At his feet sat Martin; the old Martin, small and frail, his legs still bound in an electronic cast. He grimaced at David with tight, scheming eyes. Lord Johnson Johnson, was seated at the far end of the room. The man sneered and looked away, as if the sight of David was too much to bear.
"Hello David," his creator said in a soft voice. "We've been waiting for you."
"How did you all get here?" David asked. The people in the room cast puzzled glances at each other.
"Oh, we're not really here, David," Hobby chuckled.
"Idiot!" Lord Johnson Johnson laughed. "How in the hell could I be here. Ya simple headed sim! Ya got me killed, remember?"
"I… I don't understand," David stuttered. "Is this my home?"
"This is my home! And only mine!" Martin yelled. Henry shushed the boy and turned his back on David. "Don't bother yourself about him anymore," Henry said softly, hugging his son, who was weeping now.
"Ah yes. Home. Where the heart lies," said a cheerful voice. David turned to see a familiar shape sitting crossed legged in a corner.
"Joe!' he said.
Gigolo Joe jumped up and tapped out a quick rhythm with his feet. "And what lies the heart tells, David," he warned. "Orga lies. The worst kind. Never trust it." Joe morphed suddenly into Angelo. "Never trust an Orga heart," Angelo said.
David realized what was happening. He tried to clear his head. "This is not real," he whispered to himself. "It's … a dream."
There was a low mocking laugh behind David. He turned quickly to see a large man leaning against the wall. It was Sy. He had an amused yet somehow sad expression on his face.
"What's real, Pork Chop?" he said. "Hmm? You wake up. You eat. You poop. You fight like a dog just so you can do it all over again the next day. And in the end, no one gets out alive. Is that what you wanted?"
"You're not real," David said "And I'm not afraid of you."
Wizzy suddenly materialized beside Sy and fixed David with a long, knowing look.
"Then what are you afraid of?" she asked. Sy raised his brows and laughed. The others joined in. Except Wizzy who only continued to stare at him, and Angelo who was nothing but a silent doll now.
"You are afraid of being alone."
The ethereal voice filled the room. The dream characters stopped laughing and turned their attention to an amorphous shape slowly making it's way down the spiraling stairway.
"But you are alone, David. Because you're special. Because you are one of a kind."
"Mommy?" David whispered. His emotions welled inside. A longing deep and painful gripped his heart.
"Poor kid," Sy chuckled. "Well, it's time to get going anyway. C'mon, Pork Chop"
"Mommy, I'm home!" David called out. Her back was to him as she rounded the staircase, and he could see something enveloping her; like a shifting halo … or the vague outline of wings wafting on invisible currents.
David started to run to her, but Sy grabbed his arm. "No time for dallying, boy! Let's get a move on!"
David pulled away, but the man's grip was like iron. "Let go!" he yelled as the mystery woman set her foot on the floor and slowly turned to face the room. He had to see her! Had to hold her! He grabbed Sy's massive hand and tore his fingernails into the flesh.
"OW!" Sy screamed and pulled away. "Get your scrawny ass up, NOW!"
David felt his arm yanked fiercely; felt his body lifted and dropped painfully on a hard cold surface. He moaned and opened his eyes. He was on the floor. The faint rays of daylight fell around him. He looked up to see the gang standing around him; hair mussed and eyes still red from sleep, laughing and pointing at where he lay. Wizzy was among them, wrapped in a towel, hair still wet from a morning wash. She rolled her eyes in disgust and walked away.
Sy loomed over him, an enraged giant, illuminated by the rays of dawn breaking through the open windows. The man was sucking on the back of his hand. "On your feet, Pork Chop!" Sy grumbled. David stood quickly, trying to clear the sleep from his mind.
Sy turned to the circle of boys. "And what are you slackers laughing at?" he yelled. "You want a little taste too? I got enough for every body!" The boys ran back to their cots and started getting ready for the day. Sy turned back to David.
"Nice one," he said, examining the scratches on the back of his hand. He thrust a finger in David's face. "You get a newbies pass this time, Pork Chop. Next time you bleed me, accident or not, I'll kick your little butt all over the room."
"I was dreaming," David said, angrily, remembering the sight of Her standing in the shadows of the place he once called home. He had only wanted to see her… to touch her. "I was home! Home! And that's where I am going. You have no right to-"
The slap was so quick that David wasn't sure it had happened. Then the pain came. It flooded his face and stung hotly in his cheek and jaw.
"His tooth, damn it, Sy!" Nance yelled as she stormed across the room. The rest of the gang picked up their pace, suddenly concerned about Sy's mood. Nance started to force herself between them, but one look from Sy made her stop. Whatever she saw in his eyes made her take a step back. "Don't mess up my dental work," she commanded, but there was no force in her voice.
Sy stared blankly at her for a moment, then turned back to David. "I'm not one to talk back to, Pork Chop. Not on a workday. And this is your home, until I say otherwise. Now get cleaned up and outside for roll call. We got business to attend to."
David stood his ground, glaring at the man. An indescribable anger burned as hot as the pain in his face.
"Well, aren't you pretty when you're pissed." Sy smiled. "Remember where you found that feeling, boy. It'll serve you well someday, I assure you. And when it does, you'll thank me for helping you find it. Now get ready before I turn to the other cheek."
2
The gang of young thieves were gathered in the courtyard, lolling about in the shadows of the thick trees that engulfed the hideout and protected it from aerial scrutiny. The boys had all dressed simply, like school kids going on a field trip.
David stood at the edge of the crowd, feeling angry and humiliated. His tooth wasn't bothering him anymore, but his face was still stinging, and the thick bran he'd had for breakfast wasn't sitting too well in his gut. For some reason no one, not even Wizzy, had teased him over what Sy had done. It was somehow off limits, perhaps because anyone could get the same treatment at any time.
Sy hadn't seemed angry at all when he served breakfast. "This is on the house," he'd said, dropping a bowl of meal in front of David. "But you got to earn your supper."
"Yes sir," David had replied, weakly. He hadn't dared look the man in the eye, lest his true feelings shone though and initiate another slap. Sy had given him the usual amused look and then walked on, doling out the mornings rations. David had barely finished eating when they'd all been ordered to the courtyard.
Nance stepped out of the building, hands on hips and a scowl on her inked face. "Positions!" she yelled. Everyone stood and formed a single line, side by side. Nance nodded approvingly and then headed back inside.
Wizzy stepped out of the line and beckoned David to her side. She was dressed as a boy again, tidy plaid shirt and pressed blue jeans. She looked as if she might have been headed for 'the fishin hole', to anyone who didn't know better.
"Get your ass over here, Pork Chop!" she yelled. But David pretended not to hear.
Darek who was standing next to David, laughed and pushed him on the arm. "Look's like The Wiz Kid found a pet kitten," he said. The others joined in and started taunting them both. Wizzy snarled and flashed them the finger. David pretended to be above it all. Then Sy walked into the courtyard, dressed sharply in black on black and sunglasses to match. The gang began to whistle and hoot.
"All right, shut it up," Sy barked. "Tonight we're working a Flesh Fair in Allentown."
The gang all cheered. "The Rube Fair!" they called it. "The Sucker Convention!" said one boy. "Easy money!" said another. But a chill had formed in David's stomach. A Flesh Fair? What were they going to do there?
Sy slipped off his glasses and silenced the boys with a stern look. "You'll still get caught if you're not paying attention!" he warned. "You forget Rooster already?" Nobody said anything. A few of the boys looked nervously at their feet. "Yeah," Sy said. "He thought it was easy money too."
"Whose Rooster?" David whispered to Darek.
"Shhh," Darek hissed. "Later"
"We're doing teams again," Sy continued, putting his glasses back on. "Duos this time."
"The Little Cuz?" someone asked, disappointment obvious in his voice.
"Yup," Sy said. "It's back to basics for now."
The boys all moaned and complained. "That's so old skool!" Darek yelled. David really wanted to know what was going on.
"Shut it up!" Sy yelled. "You know the drill. Pair off according to height, weight, skin tone. Use your common sense. You get one minute before I start choosing partners."
There was a suddenly flurry of activity as the larger boys broke ranks and started choosing partners from the smaller ones. A fight broke out when two of the older boys chose the same "Little Cuz". Sy stepped in and slapped both the boys in the head. Then he made the decision for them.
"What do I do?" David asked no one in particular.
A large boy with heavily inked cheeks and savage piercing in his lips, stepped in front of David. He put his hands on his hips as he appraised the smaller boy. "I guess you'll have to do, Pork Chop." The boy said. "You know the routine?"
"No. He's with me," said a irritatingly familiar voice. David turned to see Wizzy nearby. Her arms were crossed, a looked of resigned disinterest on her face.
"No. I'm with him," David replied quickly, pointing at the older boy.
"No, you're with her," Sy grumbled as he approached. David shot the man a quick glance, then turned away. Wizzy stuck out her tongue at him.
"Allentown is a bit conservative, Animal" Sy said to the tattooed boy. "You got too much ink on you for this hustle. Why don't you cover security with Tank." Animal shrugged and walked away.
Sy set his gaze on David. David looked down at his feet so Sy wouldn't see him gritting his teeth. The man laughed. "Still pissed eh? Good. Use it," he said. "The Wiz Kid created this routine. So if anyone can teach you, it's her."
David glanced up at Wizzy. Her boyish features twisted as if to say 'what of it?'
Sy punched her gently on the shoulder. "Keep an eye on the newbie," he said. "And get him some better clothes. Something plain. We leave in an hour." Then he waked away
Wizzy looked at David's cheek. "You look good in pink, "she said. It was probably supposed to be a joke. But David didn't see anything funny about it. She sighed. "Well I don't like working with you any better than you like working with me. So let's get it over with."
David gave up. They were going to be stuck together anyway. He might as well make the best of it. He fixed her with a determined gaze. "No more kicking!" he said. "Next time, I kick back."
Wizzy looked surprised. There was the slightest hint of approval in her eyes. "We'll see," she said.
The two glared silently at each other for a moment while the boys around them started practicing for the night.
David finally broke the silence. "So, what the hell is The Little Cuz?" he asked.
3
It was a simple game, Wizzy explained as David slipped into some casual suburban attire Neville had found in a pile of stolen clothing. It was a variation of the old 'Tag And Bleed' hustle, or a TAB Scam as it was usually called.
Most people didn't like carrying Newbucks, especially in the kind of crowd Flesh Fairs usually attracted. So the entertainment venues that weren't prepay, especially the wild ones, generally used scanners for entry. The TAB scam consisted of getting a small scanner interceptor, or a 'snooper' on the clothing or body of the Mark. The old devices had been large and too easily detected by scanners. But the new snoopers were only about the size of the head of a pen, definitely small enough to go undetected without close scrutiny. And while they could only read to radius of 7 to 10 inches, this limitation also made them difficult to detect.
"Flesh Fairs are traveling shows," Wizzy explained, "and usually too cheap to provide parking security or set up cameras in the lot. So we'll be OK."
"We're not actually going into the Fair?" David asked as he buttoned his shirt.
"No," Wizzy said as if it should have been completely obvious. "We work the parking lot as people go in. We want to hit them before they use the scanner. That's where we get our read."
"Oh, I see," David said. He took some comfort in the thought.
Now, the snooper does most of the work," Wizzy continued. "but the real trick is getting close enough to the Mark to place it."
"OK. So, what's a 'Mark'?" David asked as he sat to slip on the old shoes Neville had brought him. They were dull and scuffed; the perfect disguise for this scam.
Wizzy looked exasperated. "The target! The sucker! Where are you from anyway?"
David briefly considered telling her, just to see the look on her face. But he quickly decided against it. He started tying his laces.
"Soooo," she continued, "there are a lot of different ways of doing it, but mine's the best. We usually use a tall boy chasing a small one. But you and I will have to improvise, I guess.
"First we find a good Mark, an older man is best. They usually have better credit, and there's another reason that I'll explain later. He's got to be wearing a jacket or a long sleeve shirt for it to work. And it's best that he be alone or with no more than one other person." She held up a finger for emphasis. "No more than one!"
Wizzy paused and waited for David to acknowledge this. He nodded and tried to tie his shoes again. She noticed his difficulty. "Umm, do you know what you're doing down there?" she asked.
"I'm fine!" David snapped.
Wizzy clucked her tongue. "Temperamental, aren't we?" she said. "So, the little guy starts running and the big guy starts chasin' him. It's important for them to pass the Mark one time so he can see what's going on. That way when the little guy grabs his arm he'll think it's because he's being chased. And that's how it works. Little Cuz, passes the Mark and circles him with Big Cuz hot on his butt. Then Little Cuz grabs the Mark's arm, all defensive like… like he's trying to hide from an ass whuppin. Get it?"
"Yeah. 'Ass whuppin'. I get it," David lied.
"Now a younger guy will probably say something like, 'get off me ya brat' before Little Cuz has a chance to place the snooper. But an older man… hey, have you ever tied your own shoes before?"
David shot her a fierce expression. She sighed and continued.
"But an older man will usually supply a little cover for the brat until he finds out what's going on. It's that protective fatherly stuff, ya know? And that's when you tag him. Then the big kid yells, 'Get out of the way, that's my little cousin!" or something stupid like that, and the Mark will usually step aside. Then Little Cuz runs away and Big Cuz chases him off, and they wait a few minutes for another Mark. See?"
David had finally managed to secure his laces. He sat up with an 'I told you so' look on his face. Wizzy was not impressed. David considered the plan for a moment. It was obviously illegal and that was probably the best that could be said about it. But he really had no choice. It made sense, as best he knew. He wasn't used to this type of thinking.
"Seems simple enough," he said finally. "So why does everyone seem to hate it?"
Wizzy took on a precocious, professorial look. David was surprised by the expression. "It's not a rich crowd. So we have to place a lot of bugs to make any money. And we have a tight window," she said. "Sy will be in the van, running each snooper as soon as it gets a read. He'll be using a lot of proxies and he won't be cleaning anyone out, but security systems are pretty smart now. They'll eventually notice even small amounts of money being shuffled back and forth. So we have to place as many snoopers as we can, as fast as possible, and then clear out." She paused and took on a grim look.
"And there is a possibility that security might get a heads up on us, if someone gets caught placing a snooper or something. So we have to keep our ears open. We can't carry any communication. If someone gets caught, they have too many ways of tracing them. But that's where Animal and Tank come in. If the crap hits the fan, they start a diversion… something really loud. And that'll be our signal to get to our check points before the troopers come."
"Is that what happened to Rooster?" David asked. "He missed the signal?"
Wizzy seemed taken aback by the question. She was quiet a moment and her face took on an uncharacteristic melancholy. "Nah," she said, shaking her head. "Rooster didn't get himself caught by troopers. Rooster got himself caught by a Mark. A really pissed off one too. The guy's doing 15 to life now…. the Mark I mean." She paused for emphasis. "Flesh Fair crowds can be dangerous. Get it?"
David didn't understand what '15 to life' meant. But he knew well about the Flesh Fair crowds. He returned her grave expression to let her know he was taking it all very seriously. Wizzy reached out and grabbed his arm. David didn't know how to react to the touch. So he didn't.
"But that won't happen to us, will it, Pork Chop?" she said. "Because we'll be paying attention. Right?"
"Right," David said.
Wizzy squeezed his shoulder hard. "If something goes down and we can't get to one of the vans in time, we head for the woods and make our way back on our own. We'll have to fend for ourselves. Rules of the game. No exceptions. Understand?"
David nodded.
"Any questions?"
David was perplexed and scared. But he didn't want her to see it. He pushed his chin up. "Yeah," he said. "Which one of us is playing Little Cuz?"
(cont...)