Electronic Gags (9 page)

“Good
point, director-general,” Professor Reed said. “I think it will be unwise for
us to let citizens go out of the Ten Districts with electronic gags. There will
be lots of international outrage if our citizens go abroad with gags on their
necks. I suggest that when citizens leave the Ten Districts, they must
surrender their gags at the port of exit and get the gags on their return.”

“Good
point professor,” Vice President Butler said. “We can’t allow citizens to go
out of the country with our gags.”

“Some
citizens might try to sneak out of the country with the gags just to embarrass
us,” the police commissioner said.

“Yes,”
added Collins. “Imagine what will happen when our citizens appear in Canada or
in Europe with the gags. Our detractors will have a field day.”

“Some
citizens might try to sneak out of the Ten Districts with the gags, but they
won’t succeed,’ Professor Reed said with authority. “We put a geofence round
the country’s borders. If a citizen comes to within five hundred meters from
the boarder, his electronic gag gives him repeated shocks to warn him.” The
professor looked at the supreme leader and was happy to see him nodding his
head in agreement. “The system also sends an alert to the border patrol. If the
citizen advances to within two hundred meters from the boarder, he receives a
continuous electric shock till he retreats. If the citizen manages to cross the
border illegally despite the electric shocks, the gag will explode and kill
him.”

“Professor
Reed, you continue to make us proud,” President Ward sounded like the father of
a brilliant student.

“Thank
you, Your Excellence.”

“Your
Excellence, are we going to put electronic gags on soldiers, policemen and CIB
agents?” asked General Robinson, the commander of the armed forces.

“My
sentiments exactly,” added Retired General Sanders, the Minister of Defense.

“Let’s
gag every soldier below the rank of captain and every policeman below the rank
of inspector,” President Ward said.

“That’s
wise, Your Excellence,” entered Christopher Ward, never one to argue with his
brother in public. “The gags will make it easier for us to monitor our security
forces.”

“But
won’t that lower the morale of our servicemen?” General Robinson asked.

Professor
Reed avoided making a comment, knowing the security chiefs would resent
anything he said in this purely military matter.

“They
will get used to the gags,” the supreme leader said. “We gag them but they
won’t have to buy airtime like civilians… they will speak for free. That way,
policemen and CIB agents can investigate crimes without worrying about airtime.
Is your question answered to your satisfaction, General Robinson?”

“Yes,
Patriot President,” lied General Robinson. He thought NASP was a waste of time
and resources. The government was wasting money on Professor Reed’s toys instead
of strengthening the country’s military. China, Iran and North Korea were
amassing arms, threatening the Ten Districts’ position as the world’s most
powerful country. Ten Districts security agents had the population firmly under
control during all the twenty-three years of Brandon Ward’s rule and there was
no need for these expensive toys.
The president is becoming paranoid,
the general thought.
Age is catching up with him.
General Robinson had
harbored presidential ambitions for a long time. Maybe now was the time to
start thinking about a military coup.

Director-General
Sullivan looked at his colleagues with unexpressed delight. Since the CIB ran
NASP, gagging soldiers and policemen would put them under his control.

“Patriots,
do you have further questions about NASP?” the supreme leader asked.

Silence.

“Patriots,
cross-examine the professor,” President Ward said. “We have to close all
loopholes in NASP.”

Silence.

“I
guess this means you have no questions at the moment. Let’s go to other
security matters.”

Professor
Reed listened as the High Council, the security ministers and the security
chiefs discussed the army, air force, navy, police, CIB and prison services.
Although there were times when he thought he had good points, the professor
remained silent, careful not to antagonize the security chiefs. By attending
the National Security Committee, he had invaded their territory and he didn’t
want to rub salt into their wounds.

*
* * * *

Brandon
Ward Wildlife Refuge is the largest wildlife reserve in the Ten Districts. For
someone who didn’t give much value to human life, President Ward had surprising
love for animals. During his reign, he advocated for the preservation of
wildlife and enacted harsh anti-poaching laws. He also banned the exploration
of oil in wildlife refuges.

The
transformation from the modern world to the scenic, natural environment struck Melissa.
Here the air was so clean and so fresh that she felt like she was on another
planet.

Scott,
Freddie’s colleague was waiting for them in a Land Rover at the bus stop. His
mouth gaped when he saw electronic gags on their necks. “This is my first time
to see the device on someone I know,” he said. “They have decided to track us
like animals.”

“Scott
, if I were you I would go and get a tracker on my neck before the deadline
expires,” Freddie advised.

“I’m
going tomorrow,” Scott said. “I dreaded having the device on my neck but seeing
you with it gives me courage.”

“Scott,
this is my mother.”

“I’m
pleased to know you, ma’am.”

“Me
too,” Melissa said, shaking Scott’s hand.

“My
mom is normally very sociable. Forgive her if she appears distant… she is
worried about airtime and so am I.”

Scott
started the car and drove into the wildlife refuge.

“Is
the tracker painful?”

“Sometimes,”
Freddie said curtly, worried about airtime. “I will give you the manual.”

Melissa
looked around as the car sped into the refuge. The dust road was the only
evidence of human activity in the natural landscape. The land had no trees and
here and there where patches of snow that were stubbornly refusing to give in
to the rising temperatures. In the hills snow appeared untouched by the rising
temperatures of fall. The car stopped when a herd of bison crossed the road. Melissa
watched with excitement as the big beasts majestically galloped across the road.
Scott moved the car after the last of the bovines had crossed. He didn’t give
the same respect to the pack of gray wolves that crossed the road ahead of the
Land Rover a minute later. He accelerated the vehicle, sending the wolves fleeing
to safety on both sides of the road.

Suddenly,
there was a fenced clearing that looked like an ugly scar in the natural plain.
This was the wildlife refuge’s headquarters, which consisted of an
administration block and staff cottages.

Freddie
carried his mother’s bags to his cottage, which was the biggest of the staff
cottages. Melissa was glad to discover that although the cottage looked
battered from outside, it was well-furnished.

“Welcome
to the residence of the chief scientist of Brandon Ward Wildlife Refuge,” Freddie
said. “This is the kitchen... the bathroom... and your room.”

“You
have a beautiful place here,” Melissa said. “I thought wildlife scientists
lived in tents.”

“When
we are doing field work we sometimes stay in tents. But don’t worry... I won’t
be doing field work any time soon. I shall be your tour guide during your stay
here.”

“Won’t
I disturb your work?”

“What
work?” Freddie snickered. “The animals and plants can do without me... they
have been doing that for millions of years.”

The hundred-thousand-seater
Ward National Stadium, named after the president like so many things in the Ten
Districts, was packed to capacity. Members of the National Party, dressed in
the party’s regalia, cheered as soldiers and policemen performed parades, acrobatics
and mock battles to entertain the crowd. Then came the parachute displays in
which paratroopers displayed their parachuting skills as they attempted to land
in a circle marked in the centre of the football pitch. The air force displays
came next. The spectators held their breath as air force pilots showed off
their skills in aerobatics. The coordination of the jets was perfect. It was as
if the airplanes were robots controlled by one computer.

This
was only a part of the entertainment on the day’s program. Today was the fifth
of May, the First Lady’s birthday or ‘The Day of the Mother of the Nation’ as
it was officially known. The president and the first lady sat in the VIP lounge
with Cabinet ministers and security chiefs.

Mrs
Ward clapped hands and cheered at the aerobatics like a little girl. “This is
the best day of my life, darling,” she said, leaning on Brandon Ward’s
shoulder. “Oh is that the police band! I love the police band.”

Throughout
the day, Cassandra Ward shrieked with excitement at the entertainment the
organizing committee had lined up for her birthday. Then came the time for her
to read her birthday speech, which she did with obvious enjoyment. The Ministry
of Information had prepared the speech for her and she found it difficult to
pronounce some of the words. What she had in beauty, the first lady lacked in
brains. Thirty-eight years younger than her husband, she had married him after
the death of his first wife. Cassandra Ward believed her husband was a
philanthropist who did everything for the good of the nation. She actually believed
that electronic gags were antiterrorist tools that protected citizens from
terrorists. She always showered Ward with heartfelt praises, something that
endeared her to him. The president had married his biggest fan and staunchest
political supporter. She was not like his first wife who questioned everything
he did.

The
First Lady’s Final, the final game of an annual football tournament, which the
government had launched in Cassandra Ward’s honor, started just after she
finished reading her speech. When the match ended, she carried the trophy like
an excited little girl and handed it to the captain of the winning team, to the
cheer of the team’s fans.

“I
enjoyed myself today, darling,” she told her husband. “I wish today was twice
as long as other days.”

“Then
you shall have your wish,” President Ward said.

“What?”
she asked, dumbfounded.

“Wait
and see, darling,” he said.

“You
never cease to amaze me, Brandon darling,” she said, leaning on his shoulder.

“I
want to make an announcement,” Brandon Ward told his secretary.

“Okay,
Your Excellence.” The president’s secretary quickly relayed the message to the
master of ceremony.

“Ladies
and gentlemen, please be quiet for a moment,” the master of ceremony announced.
“I have just received the message that His Excellence, Patriot Brandon Ward,
the supreme leader of the nation and commander-in-chief of our armed forces,
has something to say. Please come forward and address the nation, Patriot
President.”

The
stadium fell silent when Brandon Ward came to the podium.

“Long
live our republic,” he shouted, waving his fat fist.

“Long
live!” thousands of throats responded and a forest of fists shook in the air.

“Long
live our first lady!”

“Long
live!”

“Down
with rebels!”

“Down
with them!”

“The
first lady has just told me how much she enjoyed this day. She told me she
wished today was twice as long as other days. I said to myself, ‘Why not give
her wish?’ After all this is her birthday.” He paused, waiting for the cheers
die down. “I hereby declare that tomorrow is now an extension of today.
Tomorrow, like today shall be the fifth of May. I have doubled the length of my
wife’s birthday and you, good people of the Ten Districts of America, have got
yourselves twenty-four more hours of holiday.”

The
crowd cheered.

“So
tomorrow, I mean the second half of today, we shall all come back here and
continue our celebration of the first lady’s birthday.” He waited for the
cheers to die down. “We shall repeat today’s program and the two football teams
shall play part two of The First Lady’s Final with another trophy and more
prize money up for grabs.”

The
football fans cheered, glad of another chance to watch the country’s best two
teams playing for a trophy.

“When
you wake up tomorrow, I mean on the second half of today, adjust the date on
your watches and cell phones to 5 May.”

Cassandra
Ward hugged her husband when he returned to his seat. “Forty-eight hours of
birthday!” she enthused. “This is the best birthday present ever. I will enter
the Guinness book of records for the longest birthday.”

*
* * * *

Sergeant
Jennifer Rodriguez believed in survival of the fittest. Growing up, she
constantly watched her father batter her mother. Her mother tried to fight
back, but her father, the strongest member of the family, always won the
fights. In frustration, her mother lashed out at her. Although she didn’t like
it, Jennifer knew there was nothing she could do because her mother was
stronger than her. In turn, Jennifer lashed out at the weakest member of the
family, her young brother, Andrew. And Andrew vented his anger on ants and
other insects. He pulled out the legs of insects one by one, dropped their torsos
to the ground and watched them wriggle helplessly before he squashed them with
his right foot.