Electronic Gags (5 page)

Collins
and Campbell exchanged angry looks. Professor Reed had encroached into their
territory. Even the Minister of Defense, the amiable Retired General Sanders,
was not happy. The defense industries, which manufactured weapons for the security
forces of the Ten Districts, fell under the Ministry of Defense. He didn’t like
having Reed, a mere Minister of Education, giving orders in a branch of the Ministry
of Defense.

“Professor,
I’m giving you one month to finish the project,” the supreme leader said. “You
will have all the resources you need. Prepare your budget and I will discuss it
with Dr Kirk.”

“A
month won’t be enough, Your Excellence,” Professor Reed said.

“I
will give you six weeks then. I want people wearing the electronic gags in six
weeks. Is that clear?”

“Yes
Patriot President,” the professor said with a sigh. He wanted more time to test
the electronic gag and install a strong security system to protect the computer
network controlling the gags. But now that the supreme leader had accepted his
idea, he couldn’t risk making him change his mind. If the supreme leader wanted
the system running in six months, he would get it. Professor Reed would perfect
the system while it ran.

“Patriots,
I urge you all to help the professor in any way you can as he makes our
electronic gags.” The supreme leader thoughtfully scratched his cheek.
“Electronic gag... the name sounds inhuman. We must give the gadget a name that
makes it sound user friendly, a name that tells the people what we are trying
to achieve. We are not fitting people with the gadgets to gag them... we are
doing it to weed out troublemakers from the population.”

“You
are right, Your Excellence,” agreed Professor Reed. “The name electronic gag
sounds inhuman. We can simply call the device the National Antiterrorist
Surveillance Tool, NAST in short. And we can call the whole program the
National Antiterrorist Surveillance Program, NASP in short.”

“Wonderful,
professor,” the president extolled to the envy of the rest of the Cabinet.
“What do you think, Patriot Butler?”

“It’s
a good name, Patriot President,” replied the vice president. “It will do just
fine.”

“What
do you think, Patriot Christopher?” President Ward asked his brother.

“The
whole idea is just great,” Christopher Ward said with zeal. Now that he had
seen the benefits of the professor’s invention, he fully supported it. Unlike
the other members of the Cabinet who envied the way the president was praising Reed,
Senior Minister Christopher Ward was not given to such petty jealousies. He
knew that as the president’s brother, he would always be closer to the
president than any of the ministers. “Well done, Patriot Reed. Keep it up.”

“Thank
you, senior minister,” professor Reed said joyously. With both Ward brothers on
his side, his plan would succeed.

“Is
there anyone with something to say?”

“I
have an idea, Patriot President,” Reed said, still eager to impress.

“Speak,
Patriot Professor.”

“Patriot
President, I was thinking that two or so weeks before we roll out the
electronic gags we could stage manage an attempt on your life. And then―”

“Reed
are you crazy?” spluttered Collins.

“Let
the professor speak,” Brandon Ward ordered.

“Thank
you, Patriot President,” Reed said, smothering a smirk at Collins. “I think we
should stage manage an attempt on the supreme leader’s life or bombings on one
or two police stations. Then we blame the bombings and the assassination
attempt on rebels, and use this as a pretext for launching the National
Antiterrorist Surveillance Program.”

“Antiterrorism,”
Brandon Ward said with delight. “I like that word. That would be the best
excuse for launching the program.”

*
* * * *

Freddie
sat in his mother’s living room, trying to drown his sorrow in beer. The Ward regime
had taken a lot from him: his freedom, his best friend, his girlfriend, and his
good name. A lot of people now believed he sold Michael to the CIB.

He
wanted to do something to clear his name and save Michael. He had to do
something. But what could he do against such a ruthless and powerful regime?
The police and the CIB would surely eliminate him if he tried to make trouble.

Freddie
knew he was intelligent. At school he had always been the first in his class.
He surprised his family and friends when he chose to become a wildlife biologist
after acing his Advanced Placement exams.

“Freddie,
why don’t you become a doctor?” his mother asked. “You have got straight ‘A’s.”

“No
mom,” he firmly told her. “I want to become a zoologist. I want to work with
animals.”

“You
must become a doctor and help people.”

“I
want to work with animals because humans are selfish,” he said resolutely.
“When a bear kills prey, it does so because it wants food. Animals don’t kill
for sport. They don’t kill other animals for their tusks or their hides.”

After
graduating from university he found a job at the Brandon Ward Wildlife Refuge, in
the region that was once known as Alaska, now part of District Ten. When he was
in the wildlife refuge, Freddie pretended the world around him was fine. As he
worked with animals in the wilderness, he forgot he lived in a police state. As
the refuge’s chief scientist he had managed many conservation programs. He was
currently managing programs to save lynxes and short-tailed albatrosses from
extinction.

After
Michael’s arrest, Freddie spent all his time at the Brandon Ward Wildlife
Refuge, overworking himself, hoping work would help him forget his misery. He
had briefly cut his stay in the wilderness to attend his grandmother’s funeral.
Grandma Nicole had succumbed to heart failure. Freddie felt he was to blame for
the old woman’s death. He knew his grandmother had never stopped worrying about
him since his close shave with the CIB.

The
door opened and his mother entered.

“I
still can’t believe she is gone,” she said.

“Me
too, mom,” he lamented. “Mom, please come and stay with me at the wildlife
refuge for a week or two.”

“No,
I don’t want to live in the jungle,” Melissa said, shaking her head.

“I’m
the refuge’s chief scientist… I have decent shelter in the refuge. Mom,
please... it will be like a holiday. It will cheer you up.”

“I
will think about it.”

“Will
Kyle stay alone at grandma’s house?”

“I
told him to come and stay here with me but he is stubborn.” She shrugged. “He
says he likes it better at his grandma’s house.”

“I
will talk to him,” Freddie said.

Melissa
switched the TV on and President Ward’s face filled the screen.

“Citizens
of the Ten Districts of America,” the supreme leader announced. “We are
confronted with the threat of terrorism. In the past two weeks, our country
suffered terrorist attacks. Terrorists bombed District Three Central Police Station
and then bombed Cabinet House.” His voice rose. “The terrorists also tried to
kill me. These terrorists are still at large and they can strike again. Two
months ago, the Central Intelligence Bureau arrested fifty-one terrorists who
were planning to topple the government...”

“Son
of a bitch!” Freddie shouted. “What did you do to them?”

“Lower
your voice, Freddie,” Melissa rebuked. “The walls have ears.”

“We
have to protect ourselves from this terrorist threat,” the president went on
with his speech. “Government has come up with a program called the National
Antiterrorist Surveillance Program, NASP, in short. Every citizen above the age
of fifteen must enroll in NASP. This program shall protect all citizens of the
Ten Districts of America from terrorists. We are giving citizens eight days to
enroll, starting from tomorrow. Any citizen who fails to register will be
deemed a terrorist. The enrollment will take place twenty-four hours a day,
including weekends. To register, you must take your national identity card to
your nearest Civil Registry office. I thank you.”

The
TV played the national anthem and the national flag replaced President Brandon
Ward’s image.

“What
is this NASP?” Melissa asked.

“It’s
another measure to tighten the regime’s grip on our necks,” Freddie said
angrily. “I wish I could kill Ward and his henchmen. Whatever this NASP is, you
can be sure it’s nasty.”

Freddie
felt foolish as he remembered how he rejoiced when there was an attempt on Brandon
Ward’s life, and how he celebrated when Cabinet House was bombed, believing the
regime had finally found a match. Now he realized the regime had simulated
everything.

“God,
please help this country,” Melissa prayed.

“I
have to return to the wildlife refuge on Monday, so I am going to enroll in
this evil program tomorrow.”

“I
hope they won’t charge us for the enrollment.”

“Brandon
Ward said nothing about registration fees.” Freddie rose from the sofa. “Let me
go and have a chat with Kyle.”

He
walked to Grandma Nicole’s house. On the way he saw his ex-girlfriend, Tiffany,
walking across the road. She pretended she hadn’t seen him and he returned the
favor. His heart ached as he looked at her. He loved her and was thinking of
proposing to her when she dumped him. He had hoped they would get back
together, but now he realized it was over. Tiffany didn’t want to date a man
she believed was a CIB informer and Freddie didn’t want to date a woman who
accused him of being a spy.

The
front door of Grandma Nicole’s house was open.

“Kyle,
are you in there?” he shouted.

“Yes,
Freddie,” Kyle shouted from the kitchen.

He
went to the kitchen and found Kyle eating bread.

“Freddie,
how are you, man?”

“I’m
fine, Kyle.”

Freddie
looked around the room. When Grandma Nicole was alive the house was always
spotlessly clean. Now Kyle was in charge and traces of the old woman’s hygiene
were disappearing fast. “This house will never be the same without Grandma Nicole.”

“Yes.”
He swallowed a mouthful of the bread. “She was everything to me. I miss her.”

“We
all do.”

“Let’s
have some lunch,” Kyle said, through a full mouth.

Freddie
looked at the slices of bread that were thickly covered with jam. “You call
that lunch?”

“Yes.
I have no time to cook, Freddie.”

“That’s
why you must stay with mom. She will cook for you.”

“No,
I will stay here. I like it here.”

“Come
on, Kyle. Go and stay with mom. You can rent this house and get some cash.”

“No,
I will stay here.” He took a bite from his bread. “It’s quiet and no one
disturbs me.”

“I
guess there is no way to convince you to stay with mom.”

“Don’t
worry about me, Freddie, I will be fine.”

“Promise
me you will visit mom regularly. She is worried about you.”

“I
will visit Aunt Melissa. Come on Freddie… it’s not like I live in another District.
We live in the same neighborhood.”

“How
far have you gone with your computer game?”

“I’m
almost there. When I finish developing Super Death Race, I will develop the African
wildlife game. I have been watching the African wildlife films you gave me.”

“Did
you hear about a government program called NASP?” Freddie asked.

Kyle
shook his head. He spent most of his time in the basement, on his computer,
oblivious of the outside world. He didn’t have human friends; his computers
were his only friends.

“You
have to go to the Civil Registry to enroll in the program. Ward has given us
eight days to enroll. If you don’t enroll, the CIB and the police will arrest
you. I am enrolling tomorrow.”

“I
will enroll on Monday,” Kyle said, chewing.

“Promise
me you will enroll.”

“I
will,” Kyle promised. “The last thing I want is trouble with the government. I
want to develop my computer games in peace.”

“Come
with me to the wildlife refuge and watch wild animals live,” Freddie said. “It
will help you when you make your video game.”

“No
thanks. The films you gave me will do. I can’t afford to travel right now. I
have to finish Super Death Race and start working on the wildlife game.”

*
* * * *

Freddie
woke up early in the morning and went to the local office of the Civil Registry,
a kilometer away from his mother’s house. Although he arrived before seven,
more than an hour before the start of business, there was a growing queue in
front of the Civil Registry offices.

He
joined the queue behind a woman and her teenage daughter. Few people talked
about NASP. CIB informants were everywhere and the safest thing to do in public
was to keep one’s mouth shut. Those who dared to speak about NASP praised the
government for its stance against terrorism. No one knew how the program worked.