Chapter One – Slippery Slope – Return of the Forgotten One (Sci Fi)
For years now, thousands of people had been coming into the country illegally from Zoor’s neighboring border, Bartonia. The Government had laws against it, but they had not been enforcing them. Now, the situation was dire, and the provinces closest to the border were beginning to take things into their own hands.
If the Newcomers wanted to come into Zoor so badly, then it is only right that their movements should be tracked. So some thought. The Newcomers should be issued an electronic surveillance bracelet. They should be counted. They should be controlled. Their access to education and health care should be decided upon by the Government. It was a slippery slope.
Usually, the people of Zoor would have thought that barbaric, but in the tough times that had hit the planet over the last 50 years – basically non-stop war and greed – many people in Zoor saw jobs being taken by the Newcomers, and services their tax dollars were paying for being given free to these “border-crashers.”
The Government already had practice in this regard. Already, the Government had begun issuing the surveillance bracelets (“tags”) to prisoners of war, and to war contractors and to soldiers. Over 10 million people in Zoor had been catalogued and “tagged” – and now for Zoor citizens to go into or out of their own country, required being tagged, as well. It was a slippery slope.
These tags contained everything needed for one to operate in modern Zoor. All of this was done, of course, to keep the people of Zoor safe from terrorists. Though small, the bracelet contained birth and family information, tax and employment records, financial records, law enforcement records, health records, an iris scan, 12 rolled fingerprints, numerous pictures of his/her face, and any identifying marks, and the most critical element – the unique DNA of that individual. The bracelets were different colors, though no one knew for certain if the colors meant something or not.
Through a newer technology, called RFID, an area could be scanned and a list of all of the people tagged in that area could come up on a computer screen (showing their whereabouts and their identifying data.) You know, like items are managed and monitored in large retail stores. It was a slippery slope.
Many people across Zoor had become sick – some from known causes, others from hidden causes. Mining was everywhere. Each province seemed to be mining for their own survival, regardless of the health and environmental fall out.
Costs were soaring. Money was devalued. Many people did not have basic care. Many could not find natural foods, only synthetic nano-foods, and clean water was scarce. Part of the food supply – the seafood – had been wiped out by massive oil spills. Not a good situation.
So, the Government had come to the rescue and developed a brand new Plan to take care of the populace: From the time each baby was born in Zoor until the time they died, the Government would furnish their health care and food. What a deal. And, of course, a surveillance bracelet would be required to “participate”. It was a slippery slope.
Zoor was buzzing… Who would monitor all of the bracelets? And, would the leaders of Zoor and those who monitored the populace also be tagged? Those were unspoken questions as many were sometimes afraid to speak out. Perhaps, eventually, computers could monitor some of the bracelets – to save money, of course.
*****
In the midst of it all, there sat Noelte, 29, a young mother. She had a dilemma. She had lived near the River near a chemical plant for years and knew she had developed another tumor in her leg; she could feel it, the knot protruding from her thin, tanned shin. But, she had already had three removed. The pain was bad. She tried to move through it, rather than dwell on it. But, the possible repercussions from getting an appointment to see a medic could be even more daunting.
Noelte had heard that on the fourth tumor, you would be labeled “incurable” and a “marker” would go on your bracelet. She wasn’t sure what the marker was, or what it meant. It just didn’t sound good. Noelte looked down at her little girl, Rombley, resting on the bed and smiled. Now, there was a beautiful girl! Vibrant eyes, full of hope. After all, why not? Rombley had seen God a lot more recently than Noelte had, and still had visions of flying at night… visions of hope.
To be continued…