BREACH OF CONTRACT

I pledge myself to the Central Services Committee. I willingly surrender my own rights and conveniences for the greater security of the collective. I hereby agreed and comply to any current or future decisions of the Central Services Committee and relevant sub-committees. I willingly give myself to the greater good from now in perpetuity. Potatoes. Vegetable Oils…

LNA turned the packet over… Salt and vinegar. One ration. No littering.

She looked up at the streaked night sky; a crosshatch of spotlights, telephone lines and webbers, and was that snow or ash? What did it matter? LNA scrumpled up the finished crisp packet and carried on. This was just the start of a long night.

I pledge myself to the Central Services Committee. I willingly… LNA snapped herself alert. This time it was on the back of a lamppost, of all things. She didn’t know how many times she’d read those words, but once was more than enough. She wouldn’t catch herself being absent-minded again. The mag-line above her whistled and warped, then rattled to a stop. That should be him now. She was obscured by steam and shadow but he knew the spot. Better stay hidden.

This was their sixth meeting, each one more revelatory than the last. He had unrestricted access to everything the CSC was hiding and was slowly drip-feeding LNA information vital to The Cause. This meeting was to be their last; he had promised that, after they met, The Cause would have everything they needed to bring down this vile autocracy.

The Everies bustled down to street level. LNA searched the crowd, flicking between one disgruntled face after another. No one looked the part. The mag-line clattered away. The crowd was beginning to thin. That can’t have been everyone. Perhaps he was on the next train?

But it was far too late for that. LNA suddenly had the feeling. It always began with a slight discomfort, then you heard it, only faintly so that you couldn’t be sure if you were imagining it or not. LNA knew that this time it wasn’t paranoia. There was no mistaking the tone, so high-pitch it was almost inaudible. A webber was approaching.

In a crowd of commuters she could walk right past one, but if she was caught hiding out in the shadows…? Any deviance from CSC sanctioned behaviour and the punishment was unspeakable, mainly because no one had survived to speak it.

The ear-splitting ringing was now all she could hear. She had to decide. Move, and risk being seen, or stay in the shadows and definitely be seen, but the webber wasn’t here just yet and if she was lucky…

LNA pushed out from the underpass and struck up a pace that, hopefully, looked like she’d been walking for a while. That trick wouldn’t work if she was going the same way as the webber, so she listened for the sound and, against all her instincts, headed straight for it.

The narrow street only led one way and when LNA turned a corner she saw it. Almost invisible in the darkness, LNA could only perceive a shimmer of black, suspended a metre or so off the ground, stretching back in a long line to some unknown origin. Though the shimmer appeared to have no substance or dimensions, it also seemed to be as strong as steel and no thicker than a needle. LNA’s eyes widened. They normally kept above the rooftops. This one was at ground level and its long synthetic spike was extending towards her.

Too late to stick to sanctioned behaviour, LNA thought as she spun around and ran. She dived around the corner, threw herself into the chest-wide alley, pushed out the other side then sprinted towards the underpass. Still that torturing noise was in her ears. It only grew louder. LNA pushed harder. Her throat dried up. Her legs began to ache. Her eyes were watering. Still that merciless shriek grew louder. LNA looked back; her last mistake. The webber was keeping pace and now it was a sharp point, just inches from her head.

LNA stumbled and crumpled onto the cold street concrete. The webber soared past, turned at an exact right-angle, then headed towards LNA’s exhausted body. It halted only a hair’s breadth from LNA’s petrified eyes. If she even blinked, that needle would shoot straight through her eye.

“Citizen L72N5A40,” said a voice emanating from the webber. LNA couldn’t breathe, let alone reply, but it wasn’t a question.

“You are hereby held in breach of contract with the Central Services Committee,” the voice continued.

This was it. She just hoped her informant wasn’t compromised either.

“You have been recorded deviating from Central Services Committee sanctioned behaviour at 03:36. Recorded deviation: littering.”

…what?

Another webber shot across the street and came to a stop right in front of LNA’s eyes. Grappled in its tendril was a crumpled packet of CSC sanctioned crisps.

A packet of crisps. LNA’s heart sank.

Littering or conspiring, the punishment was the same.

LNA couldn’t help herself from reading the words in front of her eyes: I pledge myself to the Central Services Committee. I willingly surrender…

ANAX.