73. A Day Without Bodies

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October 29, 2045 - 10:30 AM

A soft rainfall dampened the streets traversing through Nicetown as Psychwatch installed the final SanityScans. Carl, Andrade, and Nikki rested by one of their agency's armored vans, witnessing history in the making. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, the third city in the United States to reach one hundred percent surveillance under Psychwatch. Advanced therapy and mental health resources for citizens rich and poor. The criminally insane and those so far gone, they'd foamed at their mouths and spoke only in gibberish? Extinct.

Perfection.

Carl took a sip from his hot chocolate, steam exhuming from his mouth as he glanced over at the holographic screens hovering before Nikki and Andrade. On Nikki's screen, online and offline neighborhoods sprawled like disease at a cellular level, and with each SanityScan installed, the blue gnawed away at the red. On Andrade's screen, faces and names, new individuals inducted to the P3S. The ones who didn't resist, of course. A Psychwatch officer could detect the ones who'd resisted by the body bags hauled out by three or four other officers, each one usually sporting a mask, at least one of them spattered with blood that wasn't their own.

But that day wasn't like the others. Carl and his coworkers spoke more carefully. Sunlight creeped through gaps in the clouds rather than hiding behind the gray blanket in the sky, illuminating the raindrops bright yellow. There were no protesters. There were no body bags. The streets, the homes, Wayne Junction, all far too peaceful, too still, like a movie set.

Is it possible, Carl thought, that things are going too well?

Perhaps, replied Catalina. What seems off, mi amor?

Everything's so quiet today. No one's resisting the Scans' installations. Or at least no one loud and aggressive. We've gotten a few of the usual concerns, but they've been so professional. It almost feels like...

Like they've accepted what's become of them?

Yeah. That's exactly it.

Carl took another sip of his hot chocolate. He thought of Christmastime, when he and the Sandovals would travel downtown to see the lights and shops. Vibrant, serene, only to go back to work soon after Christmas Day and hear of individuals who'd taken their lives during the holidays, illustrated by the hanging of wreaths made of spark roses.

Well, Catalina continued, at least you've made a difference. No one has gotten hurt since the installations began.

"Not yet," Carl whispered.

Andrade glanced at her colleague. "Did you say something, Maslow?"

"No," Carl said. "Just someone else in here."

Andrade nodded. "Of course."

"Anything from the commissioner?"

Carl saw his fellow officer breathe sharply, as if momentarily hurting herself. "So far, nothing," she said.

Why did I even ask her that? Carl thought. We all have ThoughtControl pieces. I'd hear the commissioner, too, if she announced anything. Stupid small talk.

He gulped down the rest of his drink before marching over to a trashcan to toss it in. He extended his arms to embrace the rain, the cold little droplets rapping against his coat and his face. Even the temperature felt balanced. The hot chocolate warmed him up inside while nature cooled him on the surface. Staring up, he saw the sun in between the clouds once more. Everything too balanced. Too perfect.

Am I actually getting bored with the idea that things could finally work in our favor?

Was he even working for Psychwatch anymore? They'd finally listened to him. Was it all a trap? This was Psychwatch he was working for. Belligerent, violent, ignorant Psychwatch. There had to be a catch. There had to be a breaking point.

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