Lucky to be alive
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“We’re based in a mud zone now,” Peterkin said as the flyer came down. Filth flew up and hit the hull. “But the warehouse is sound. More or less.”
“Warehouse?” Samantha said. “You sell things?”
“Forget I said that,” Peterkin said. Bork went red.
Inside, Samantha checked her general feeds. “They don’t know where I am,” she said. “You know computers. Can you fix something for me?” Peterkin looked at her a long time.
“They fired you,” Bork said. “Why not live normal?”
“They’ll move me to another job if I stay registered. I was a nurse. I won awards. Look at you now. You were an idiot when you came.”
“Thanks,” Bork said. “I was playing a part.”
“I doubt it.”
Peterkin ignored them and fiddled with his device.
“I need a break,” Samantha said. “Make it look like I’m hurt. Brain damage. Lost memory. Anything. I’m done with public work. They don’t deserve nurses.”
“You walk and talk,” Bork said. “How hard is that?”
She smiled at him. It was real.
“You want to shed your old life,” Peterkin said. “I don’t blame you. A good nurse, and this is where it gets you. You’re lucky to be alive. My brother says you’re great.” He took out a small tablet and worked with it. “Stay here for a while. The old Samantha can die in the disaster. That part’s easy. You’ll be new. Basic EMUs. Plus extra.”
“It’s that or be an Utter,” Bork said.
Utters lived off-grid and waited. The longer they stayed out, the more EMUs they had when they came back. Some saved for dreams. Some hated the system. Some just liked the woods and the mud. A few never came back right.
“So what’s in it for us?” Peterkin said.
Samantha looked at him. Then she saw he meant it.
“You made the offer,” she said. “I saved Bork.”
“You had exit codes,” Bork said. “What could I do?”
“I could’ve used the emergency cannon.”
Bork laughed. The cannon was for rapid evacuations, from the riotous days before everyone adjusted.
“We walked through a hole in the wall,” he said.
“Stop,” Peterkin said. “I hate fights. Samantha, I’ll set you up. Plenty of EMUs. We’ll be friends. I need people.”
“What people?”
“My brother said you were close.” Peterkin winked. Bork sighed.
“Don’t believe what he says.”
“You can stay a week or so,” Peterkin said. “There’s a room.” A line lit up on the floor.
The room showed a fake beach. She took pills and lay down.
After she left, Bork said, “Are you nuts?”
“She thinks you bust up cars, you were in for that, right? Antisocial behaviour? Who cares about cars?”
“The story worked.”
“She needs a new life,” Peterkin said. “She’s lived inside too long.”
“I know she likes kids,” Bork said. “Do you have any?”
“Maybe,” Peterkin said. “People get lost after disasters. I can make a group. Big house. Health perks. A care bot.”
He worked his screens.
“Free cash,” Bork said. “Let’s make kids.”
“All equal,” Peterkin said. “That’s the rule.”
He erased the old Samantha from the wreck of the world. Her money in limbo. He took it. A new personality made, already known by authorities. The trace of the old benefits system was extra funds for those with family needs, the flexible zone where Peterkin prowled. Peterkin looked pleased.
“I made her a new self,” he said. “More real than the old one. Tied to everything. It all holds.” He grunted. He enjoyed his work.