Darwood & Smitty - Chapter 9
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“Half a billion credits!” said Darwood, collapsing onto his bed. “We’re rich! We can live on that for a couple of years.”
The two had waited for more than an hour in the Earth Express depot before setting off into the dark on foot. And they even prepared for that, getting a couple of E2’s special Destrackt® boxes — just the size for their wallets — normally used to transport sensitive packages that clients didn’t want traced. Smitty was damn sure that the government could track their real ID cards if it wanted to ... not to mention the government-issued debit/ID cards and the Govway card. And if the government could track them, probably the Jovians or anyone else could too. The boxes would help to keep them hidden. After waiting that nerve-stripping hour, they had made their way to a hidden corner of the city and found a motel there — not quite so remote as Vermont, but it would do, especially if the cops had destroyed their van and thought them dead. The place was dimly lit and boasted ancient radiators for heat. Both the beds sagged in the middle, but Darwood somehow scored the better of the two. And it frankly didn’t matter to him. He was sitting on an enormous wad of virtual cash. Smitty decided along the way to the motel that, as long as they were together, they needed to stick with using just one debit card. Even if they could block the cards from being traced remotely, someone was bound to go looking for them when they actually used the cards. Since the government-issued cards weren’t tied to the deliverymen’s identities, they could be used by anyone, and that kept them hidden. But if the same two cards were being used in all the same locations, it would be an obvious tip-off that two people were traveling together. So Darwood’s card would go unused unless they were separated. Darwood had agreed at first, but after they paid for the motel, he knew how much was on his card. It was an extraordinary amount — the kind that might just get him interested in parting company long enough to head out for some toys. “They’re government funds, remember,” Smitty said as Darwood lay down, grinning with the idea of so much money. “We can spend it to serve the president and the people, but if you go off and buy anything we don’t need, then you’re stealing from the people, same as politicians have done forever. Don’t sink to their level Darwood.” Darwood sat up. “Let me get this straight. This morning, I’m a deliveryman. No danger, no surprises. Just a daily routine of dropping packages at people’s homes and businesses, and making just enough that I can afford something fun maybe once a month. And that’s pretty good by me, because I don’t need any danger or surprises. Now all of a sudden, I’m buddies with the president of Earth and, because he’s apparently got ethics as nutty as yours — and by nutty, I mean admirable of course — I’m getting chased by Jovians and having my delivery van blown to pieces. I can’t go home because I’ll probably get killed there. For all I know, I might not have a home at this point. And you’re telling me that for all this extra bullshit in my job, I’m not supposed to get any more money to spend?” Smitty frowned. “Hmm. You’ve, uh ... you’ve got a point. So ok, keep it reasonable Darwood. Take a little extra pay for the extra service, but remember that this is your parents’ money, your neighbors’ money, and shoot ... our money, all from taxes.” “Good. Then I’ll take ours back, and I never worried about borrowing money from Mom and Dad. And I’ll take a few more bucks from anyone who ever cut me off in traffic. I’ll leave the rest.” Smitty sighed and shook his head, partly because he knew when to give up, and partly because there wasn’t much use arguing when Darwood made sense. Taxes were taken by coercion, really. When you looked at the purpose of government in a reasonable way, they were sometimes used appropriately — protecting people’s rights and ensuring equal opportunity — but they were far too often used to support individual people or groups. There was no way government could justify that to Smitty’s satisfaction. So how could he tell Darwood not to take back what had essentially been stolen? Darwood couldn’t head out that night to enjoy his newfound wealth, though. It just wasn’t good horse sense to put so much effort into evasion only to blow it with a trip to the local Harley dealership. So he had to spend the night fidgeting in the hotel room, thinking about what to do with his money while Smitty apparently thought through their options. They were both set for bed early, ready to be finished with the monotony of a small hotel room, and as Darwood pulled back his sheets, Smitty flicked on the TV — they still called the new HoloVisions “TVs” — to check the news before they slept. “Thanks Linda,” said a middle-aged reporter on-site with a story. “As you can see behind me here, there’s a large crowd gathering to see the remains of the Martian troupe, but they’re not much more than steaming puddles now, of course. They had held out for a little more than a week, demanding fewer trade regulations with Earth. A special congressional committee agreed to have the police end the standoff, using force if necessary, as the troupe was causing trade complications. Normally, of course, this kind of stand-off would be an acceptable form of trade negotiations, but not in the midst of a contract. The Martians still have three years under current trade agreements. Back to you Linda.” “Steaming puddles,” said the anchorwoman without much emotion. “An effective display for anyone who thinks they can cross the law here on Earth. In other news, the Apex has just announced that the president will hold a special news conference tomorrow at noon. We will of course broadcast the event live, and will start things off with expert commentary beginning at 11:30.” The time, of course, was translated automatically to the time zone of the viewer. And for Darwood and Smitty, this meant that things would keep moving quickly come the next day. |
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