Rolltown

XIII

“A what?” Diana Sward blurted.

He looked at her emptily. “I’m a paroled convict, Diana.”

The three of them held a long silence.

Finally, Bat said, uncomfortably, “Well, nevertheless, this is an emergency. There are women and children involved. You’re a good man. We need you.”

Ferd sucked in air and made a face. “You don’t understand. I can’t carry a gun. You see, I’ve got a bug planted in my skull.”

That made no sense to either Di or Bat.

Ferd said doggedly, “I mean an electronic bug. Everything I say is monitored. If I have a gun, or if I get into violence, I get a splitting headache and have to report immediately to my parole officer#longdash#by TV phone, of course.”

“Holy smokes,” Bat said in protest.

“It’s better than being in a prison cell, Bat. There have been recent changes in penology that a lot of people don’t know about. Today, most convicted… criminals aren’t kept in prison. Even lifers, such as myself.”

“Life?” Di said.

“Yes, I’m a three-time loser, Di. For the rest of my life I’ll carry this bug. If I have a gun in my possession, or if I participate in violence, my head aches unbearably until I report. They have a continual fix on me, always know exactly where I am. They don’t even care if I leave the country. If they wanted, they could drop me in my tracks, any place in the world. But at least I can carry on a reasonably normal life. It’s not like the old days, when you had to spend your time in a jail cell. Of course, if I wish to do certain things, take a job, or get married, for instance, I have to report in. Then my parole officer decides if I can do it or not. A woman is warned that I am a felon, a boss is also so informed.” He added wryly, “Few woman wish to marry a felon, and few bosses want one to work for him. However, we’re eligible for NIT.”

Bat said, uncomfortably, “What are you… well, what were you sentenced for, Ferd?”

Ferd, his lips white again, said, “Are you asking me as a police officer?”

“Don’t be an ass,” Di said.

Bat said, “Of course not, primarily as a friend.”

“You have to ask me as a police officer, so I can explain later to my parole officer.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

Ferd sucked in air. This was hard for him. “Everything I say is monitored. If I use certain words, the computers report it to my parole office and I have to have an explanation.”

Bat Hardin shook his head in disbelief but said, “All right, I ask you as a police officer.”

Ferd said, as though apologetically, “It’s like I told you, I’m under twenty-four-hour a day monitoring of everything I say. If I use terms like guns, robbery, fight, revolution, oh, scores of different terms that apply to crime of any sort, then my parole officer is notified and the complete conversation is then played back to him. And I have to explain. If I can’t explain, too often, then it’s either more brain surgery or back to prison for me.”

“All right,” Bat said. “As town police officer, I ask, what were you given life for, Ferd?”

“Conspiracy to commit subversive acts against the government.”

They both ogled him.

He shrugged. “You asked me. I told you. Shortly, I’ll get my headache and have to report to my parole officer. They caught me three times. I was easy to catch. Anybody’s easy to catch these days when you can’t exist without a credit card and when the computer data banks know everything about you that there is to know.”

Diana Sward was looking at him strangely. “At least all this helps my ego. I’ve been wondering why, no matter how provocative I try to be, you haven’t made the slightest effort to get into my pants. I thought my girlish charms must be fading.”

He looked at her emptily. “Don’t think I’m not susceptible. But how would you like to have a lover, every word of which he said was being listened to by a computer, or a parole officer, or two? Can you imagine these characters sitting around, some afternoon when things are slack, playing back some of the conversations that are put on the magnetic tapes? A love scene? The things a man says to a woman in bed?”

He clasped his hands suddenly to his head. “I shouldn’t have said that,” he muttered in agony. “I’ll have to go.”

They stared after him as he stumbled away.

“Good grief,” Di blurted.

Bat said, “I’d think it’d almost be better to be in a cell.”

“Oh, Bat,” she said. “The poor sonofabitch.”

Bat said in disgust, “Subversion! In this day and age? What possible chance could there be of overthrowing the government when every slob in the country is getting a free ride with his NIT? Not one person in twenty is dissatisfied with Meritocracy.”

She viewed him from the side of her eyes. “I wonder.”

As usual in the privacy of the camp ground, Diana Sward was both barefooted and topless. Her clothing bill must have been truly minimal; she seldom wore more than a pair of men’s denim pants, cut short. Now, she knocked at the door of the camper before her.

It opened and a wan Ferd Zogbaum said, “Oh, hi Diana. Come on in.” He stepped back to allow her entry.

She looked about the small, neat interior and shook her head. “All you bachelors are the same. Neat as goddamned pins. Bat’s trailer is disgusting; it’s so much cleaner than mine.”

“Partly military training,” Ferd said. “They teach you to be neat in the military, or you get the works. Sit down, Di. Could I get you a drink?”

She said, still standing, hipshot, “In a minute. Did you make your report?”

He took her in, almost as though suspiciously, “Well, yes, I did.”

“No more headache?”

“No,” he told her. “No more headache. The report was accepted. I was able to use the words that they monitor me on since I was talking to a police officer.”

“Listen,” she said deliberately. “When they monitor your conversations, do they hear what the other person says as well? What I mean is, are they picking up what I’m saying now?”

“No, of course not. Only what I say. They only hear one half of the conversation.”

“All right. If you say nothing more than yes and no, then they don’t give a damn?”

“Of course not. At first it’s difficult, but after a while you learn to avoid saying words that are taboo.”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?”

She stepped closer to him and put her arms around his neck and pressed her fabulous breasts against his chest. “Don’t say anything except yes or no to me. And how do you get the bed out in this camper?”