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ExamForce :: Article Archive :: Newsletter Article
 The Cert Times: IT Edition Article Archive
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| Civil Service (and the Ethics of Contractors) (B1N@RY N@T10N (A.J. Axline)) |
Civil Service (and the Ethics of Contractors)
"As interrogation rooms go, this is pretty nice," I said. "Instead of the usual ultra-beige that always looks like it was painted onto every surface with a garden hose, this has lots of stainless steel, with some strategically-placed wood accents. Sharp. The chairs are even sort of comfortable. I'd rate them somewhere between a dentist's waiting room and a Turkish prison patio set. Hey, you've even made an effort to make the one-way glass sort of cheery with the faux-cherrywood framing. It's the little touches, you know, that make... say, is that a drain in the floor? I suppose you need that for hosing the blood away after a successful "confession extraction". That's a good practical solution. Hell, I'd have mounted a few more sprinkler heads in the ceiling and made the room self-cleaning, but that's me, I'm all for automation. It's good that some of our societal institutions, particularly the ones that give tasers to their members, are keeping it real with a touch of conservatism. Could I get a glass of water? My throat's kinda dry."
The detective looked at me, and sighed.
"I'm sorry, I'm monopolizing the conversation again," I said with a self-effacing shake of my head. "I'm that way, it's awful, isn't it? My mother used to say that I was over-ebullient. I don't think she knew what that meant. I think she may have thought that it had something to do with food. It sounds like a food word, doesn't it? Ebullient. Sounds like something Italian. I love Italian food. It uses a lot of cheese. Aren't cows great? They make dairy and beef. It's like there's something for everyone, except vegans. Cows and vegans are actually in competition with each other for the same foodstuffs. No wonder they don't like each other. Can I have a cigarette? I quit smoking a year ago, but I could use it for currency when you throw me in the joint."
"Maybe we could get back to the subject at hand," the detective said. I think his name was Phil. It was some kind of verb, at any rate.
"Certainly," I agreed cheerfully. "To answer your question, I would love a glass of water. You've been very thoughtful so far through this process, don't think that I haven't noticed."
He got up from his chair, walked over to the door and opened it. He asked someone to bring a bottle of water. Momentarily it appeared, and he shut the door and walked back to his chair and sat down. He handed me the bottle, and I accepted it with sincere thanks.
"That's good," I said after a few long swallows. "There's nothing like a cold drink of water when you're about to get worked over with a rubber truncheon. It helps to settle the mind."
"Mr. Axline--"
"Oh gosh, call me A.J.," I offered. "I don't want any formality between myself and my Inquisitor."
"Mr. Axline, I'm not going to torture you," the detective said with a tired voice. "Even if I wanted to, and I admit that I am approaching a gray area on that subject, I wouldn't torture you. I just want to ask you a few questions."
"Oh gosh, of course," I said. Then: "Oh, that was sly of you, very sly. I'm abashed. You have such a trustworthy demeanor. It must be the Glock on your hip."
"Mr. Axline, do you know at this time the whereabouts of your friend, V--"
"Please," I said holding up a hand, "don't say his real name. It makes me giggle, and I think that giggling isn't going to do anything constructive for either of us at the moment."
"...the whereabouts of your friend, Vector."
"Thank you. And, no."
The detective sighed.
"You have to understand," I said, "that even though Vector and I are friends, there is still much of his life that I know nothing about. For example, it was only very recently that I discovered that Vector is a ventriloquist, and that he performs once a week at an avant garde club called Spittle, under the stage name of Moisturizer Canasta. Don't ask me what his dummy looks like. It's disgusting."
We looked at each other for awhile. It wasn't a friendly look.
"I don't know where he is," I said, speaking plainly and easily. "And, holding me won't prompt him to just magically appear on the precinct's doorstep."
"So, you two aren't friends?" the detective asked.
I didn't answer that one. I just smiled, and sat back in my chair.
"All right," the detective shrugged. "But, try to look at this deal from my perspective. The Mayor of this city appears in front of over 50,000 fans during the half-time show of a football game, and while he is delivering a rousing speech on civic duty and pride, the scoreboard Jumbotron suddenly starts showing video footage of the Mayor with the female head of the city's Chamber of Commerce, in an act that could best be described as 'adult situational role-playing'--"
"I didn't know they made pink riding crops," I said. "That's a real niche market. And where do you take a person to get fitted for a saddle? That's strange, is what that is."
"And when this disturbing video footage ends with the words "A BINARY NATION PRODUCTION" flashing across the screen..."
"Hubris," I agreed. "Sheer hubris. Still, Zorro set the historical precedent. It's a form of cultural peer pressure, really, even though I'm not Mexican. To the best of my knowledge, I'm not Mexican. Again, my mother--"
"Well now, you are probably bright enough to imagine the chain of events that follows. The Mayor contacts the Chief of Police, and screams at him for half an hour. The Chief of Police gathers all of his detectives in a room, and he screams at them for an hour. And eventually, it becomes very important that the two individuals responsible get apprehended and made an example of."
"Ahh," I replied. "But, you refer only to the two individuals responsible for Binary Nation. The footage in question and the accompanying credits could have been generated by anyone."
"You must admit that the two of you have a reputation for socially inappropriate behavior," the detective said.
"As does the Mayor, at least now," I agreed. "But, reputation doesn't equal culpability. Tell me, do you have any evidence whatsoever that Vector and/or myself actually perpetrated the so-called crime in question?"
Silence.
"Right," I said. "All you have is two words at the end of a broadcast that you aren't even in possession of a copy of. Now, I sympathize with your situation. I do. You aren't the villain in this piece. But, if I say that somebody set us up, or more importantly my lawyer says that, and you are called upon to counter this argument with the evidence you have in hand, exactly what is going to happen?"
More silence.
"I'm a reasonable guy," I said. "If you want to throw me in the pokie overnight in order to take a little heat off you and the gang, that's fine. Heck, I won't even wake up my lawyer as long as I walk out of here first thing in the morning. By then, you and the D.A. can maybe get the Mayor to start thinking more about damage control with his wife and constituents and less about putting the P.D.'s head on a pike."
Even more silence, followed by a sigh.
"Looking forward to retirement?" I asked, not unkindly.
"You have no idea," the detective replied.
Detective Phil was as good as his word. I spent a night as a guest of the city, and was whistling down a cab before 9:00 AM. Hizzonor the Mayor checked himself into a counseling facility, I assume to get out of range of his wife's fists. And two weeks later, Vector came home.
"I, um, I hear you got pinched," he said, more than a little embarassed. He looked like he hadn't seen a lot of sunlight recently... more than usual, I mean.
"Mildly squeezed," I replied, grabbing a fresh pot of coffee. "Spent a night in the slammer. No charges, no arrest record. It's cool."
Vector shook his head. "That is so insane. Man, it wasn't even us."
I raised an eyebrow. "How do you figure that?"
Vector shrugged. "It was the guys who hired us to do it, not us. Put the blame where it belongs."
"I hadn't really thought of it that way," I replied. "Gosh. You'll do all right in Hell after all."
A.J. Axline is the author of Closet Universe, and spends much of his time coming up with witty banter to swap with figures of authority.
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Posted by
nam on 26/07/2007 17:28 |
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