Electronic Gags (7 page)

Melissa
set up the breakfast table and they ate in silence. They had agreed to speak
only when it was necessary. Freddie opened his mouth and shut it just in time
to avoid a comment on the taste of the western omelet.

The
sight of the electronic gag on his mother’s neck filled Freddie with rage. In
the wildlife refuge, he never enjoyed putting trackers on animals and only did
it when it was necessary. His mother never talked about politics and had
accepted her fate under the Ward regime, but the regime had fitted her with a
tracker. The trackers that the government had put on people were worse than the
trackers Freddie and his colleagues put on wild animals. Wild animal trackers
were much lighter than NASTs and they did not gag animals, administer electric
shocks on animals or contain deadly explosives.
Ward thinks we are worse
than animals,
Freddie thought angrily.

“We
leave for the park Monday morning,” he said, chewing, hoping the food in his
mouth would distort his voice and stop it from activating his electronic gag.
“We will discuss our travel arrangements at twelve o’clock when we get four
minutes free airtime for the national anthem.”

Melissa
nodded. Tears gathered in her eyes as she looked at her son. Freddie was only
twenty-seven and had a whole life ahead of him, but his world had been torn
apart. First he lost his best friend, then his girlfriend and his grandmother,
and now NASP had taken all his freedom of speech. Melissa had always thought
that Freddie and Tiffany made a good couple. Although Freddie tried his best
not to show it, Melissa knew he was hurting inside. She had raised him alone
after his father ditched her when she was pregnant. Freddie and Kyle were the
only family she had left. She didn’t know what she would do if something
happened to them.

“I’m
going out to see Kyle,” Freddie said.

“Bring
him some breakfast,” Melissa said. “Your cousin will starve on his computer.”

Freddie
nodded and filled a lunchbox with food and a Thermos with coffee.

Melissa
pulled out the keypad and display panel of her electronic gag and dialed *100#.
She sighed with relief when she found out that her account had ninety-nine
lucres twenty-four cents.

Freddie
carried the lunchbox and Thermos to Grandma Nicole’s house, now Kyle’s house.
He looked at the necks of the people he met, checking whether they had NASTs,
and they also looked at his neck.

He
found his cousin in the basement, furiously tapping the keys of his computer.
He was sporting an electronic gag on his neck.

“Hi
there, computer genius.” He put the food and coffee on the desk beside the
monitor. “I brought you some breakfast.”

“Thanks
man,” Kyle said without taking his eyes off the computer. “So how is Aunt Melissa?”

“She
is fine. I’m taking her to the wildlife refuge on Monday for a two-week
holiday. My invitation still stands... you can come with us to the wildlife
refuge.”

“I
wish I could.” He finally took his eyes off the computer. “I have to finish
making Super Death Race before I can think of travelling.”

“If
you change your mind let me know... How far have you gone with Super Death Race?”

“I
thought I had finished it yesterday but I realized the game still needs some
improvements for it to take the world market by the storm.”

“I
am looking at a future millionaire,” Freddie teased.

“It’s
only a matter of time before I make it into the big time.” He opened the
lunchbox and his eyes widened when he saw the western omelet and toast. “If you
keep on bringing me food I will remember you when I become a video game mogul.”

“How
does the dog collar feel on your neck?”

“It
feels like a dog collar,” Kyle said, fingering his electronic gag.

Freddie
checked the balance of his electronic gag. “See you, man. I have just blown sixty
cents talking to you. Stay safe. Keep the door locked at all times. Goodbye.”

“See
you, man.”

“One
more thing... I need your ID number. You never know… I might want to phone you or
send you a message using NASP.”

“NASP,
NAST... what exactly is the name of these dog collars?” Kyle asked.

“According
to the manual, the dog collar is called NAST, short for National Antiterrorist
Surveillance Tool… and the program that runs it is called NASP, short for
National Antiterrorist Surveillance Program.”

“This
is all bullshit,” Kyle said.

“Mind
your language,” Freddie warned. “The supreme leader might be listening. I’m
waiting for your ID number.”

Kyle
scribbled his ID number on a piece of paper. Freddie entered the number in his
electronic gag and waved Kyle goodbye.

When
he arrived at his mother’s house, Freddie opened his laptop and searched the
web for news about electronic gags. He found an article on Yahoo News and added
a long passionate comment, begging the international community to free his
country from Ward. He copied the comment and posted it to all major
international news sites. Although he knew that his posts were useless, he
posted them because they made him feel he was doing something to fight the Ward
regime. No foreign power could oust President Brandon Ward, the most powerful
man on Earth. Brandon Ward had UN veto power and he had enough weapons of mass
destruction to pulverize the rest of the world. If the American people wanted
change, they had to fight for it themselves. Other countries could only give them
morale support. America’s former allies had pulled out of NATO in protest
against the Ward regime but this didn’t worry Brandon Ward and his National
Party.

Freddie
jumped when he looked at his watch. “Mom it’s seconds to twelve,” he cried.
“Where are you?”

“Here,”
Melissa said, coming out of the kitchen.

“We
have four minutes of free airtime,” Freddie said. “If you have anything to say,
please say it now at no cost.”

“I
just want to tell you that I love you and I’m sorry for all that has happened
to us,” she said, wiping tears from her cheeks. “What did we do to deserve
this?”

“I’m
sorry, mom,” Freddie said. “Things will work out.”

“Freddie
please... don’t do anything silly,” she begged. “We don’t want trouble. Stay
safe.”

“Don’t
worry, mom… I will keep out of trouble.” He looked at his watch. “We still have
more than three minutes of free airtime.  You will enjoy your stay with me at
the wildlife refuge.”

“You
are right, Freddie… I need a break from this place,” she said. “I don’t like
the way the neighbors are looking at me. They think you betrayed Michael.”

“I’m
glad you are coming with me, mom,” he said. “Grandma is dead, my girlfriend dumped
me… that makes you the only woman in my life at the moment, mom.”

“Maybe
Tiffany will come around,” Melissa said. “You two were such a lovely couple.”

“That’s
what I thought.” he said. “It’s over. I don’t want her back.”

“Why?
All relationships experience bad patches. I believe she still loves you.”

“Mom,
do you believe I betrayed Michael? Do you believe I am a CIB informer?”

“Of
course not! You’d never do such a terrible thing.”

“My
point exactly. You believe in me, mom. Tiffany doesn’t believe in me at all. If
she really loved me, she would have believed in me or she would at least give
me the benefit of the doubt.”

“I
suppose you are right,” she said, smoothing her blouse. “That girl doesn’t
deserve you. However, you must know that a mother’s love is different from a
girlfriend’s love. Maybe I would react differently if I was in her shoes.”

“It’s
over between Tiffany and me. I’m glad it happened before I committed myself to
her.”

“You
never know, Freddie. Maybe you will get back together.”

He
consulted his watch. “The free airtime will be over in fifteen seconds.”

Melissa
spoke fast to beat the deadline. “It was nice speaking without worrying about
airtime.” She returned to the kitchen to check on her cooking.

Freddie
went back to his laptop and searched the internet for information about GPS
tracking, cell tracking, voice recognition, speech recognition and electroshock
weapons. As the CIB agent had said at the Civil Registry office, he had to
treat the electronic gag like a vital organ. He knew how the vital organs of
his body worked and he wanted to know how the electronic gag worked.

There
was a loud knock on the door. Freddie froze. This was the kind of knock that
could only come from the police or the CIB.

“In
the name of President Brandon Ward, I order you to open the door,” the knocker
demanded.

Shuddering,
Freddie closed the internet browser and opened the door. Two CIB agents burst
into the house and flashed their badges at him.
This is it,
he thought.
They
found out I was in the political gathering with Michael.

“You
misused the four minutes of free airtime that the government of the Ten
Districts of America gave you for the national anthem,” the older of the agents
said. “At twelve every citizen must stand at attention and sing the national
anthem yet you were discussing nonsense.”

“Sorry
patriot. We didn’t―”

“You
are lucky you didn’t say anything against the Ten Districts. The supreme leader
told us to be lenient during the first two weeks of NASP because people are not
yet used to the program.”

“If
you do it next time you will be in big trouble,” the other agent said. “At
twelve o’clock NASP alerts us when the graph of a anyone’s voice doesn’t
correspond to the national anthem. The system will also alert us if you say a
word that is not in the national anthem during the four minutes of free
airtime. Good day. Next time you won’t get off the hook so easily.”

The
CIB agents walked out.

Freddie
heaved a sigh of relief and looked at Melissa. She was leaning against the wall
to stop herself from collapsing with fear. He wanted to say, “These bastards
should leave us alone,” but knowing the CIB could hear him, he only said, “That
was close.”

Melissa
said nothing. She was still recovering from the shock. Now she knew the hold that
electronic gags gave the government over the people. If she said a wrong word
she would be arrested in minutes.

“They
are gone, mom,” Freddie assured. “It’s over.”

“Freddie,
I thought... I thought they were going to arrest us,” she said, shaking.

“They
won’t come back again, mom,” he assured. “We won’t repeat the mistake.”

“I
have finished making lunch,” she steered their conversation to a safer topic.
“You can help yourself if you are hungry. The CIB scared my appetite away.”

“I’m
hungry,” Freddie said, switching off his laptop.

Melissa
filled a lunchbox with food.

“I
am going to warn Kyle not to forget singing the national anthem at twelve,” she
spoke fast to save airtime.

Freddie
waved at her and she waved back before she carried the lunchbox to her nephew.

*
* * * *

“We
are going to church today,” Melissa told Freddie in the morning on Sunday.

He
nodded. He knew there was no arguing. His mother was easygoing in everything
except religious matters. When he was in her house, he had to go to church
every Sunday.

“Go
and tell your cousin to get ready for church.”

Freddie
nodded. “Will you sing away all your airtime at church? Will the preacher have
enough airtime?”

“We
are going to church and that’s final.”

They
simultaneously pulled out the keypad and display panels of their electronic
gags and checked their NASP balances.

Freddie
went to his late grandmother’s house and found Kyle in the basement, tapping
the keys of his computer.

“Get
ready for church,” Freddie said curtly. He had no airtime for pleasantries.

“Church?
Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Kyle,
I have no airtime to waste arguing with you. Mom said you must get dressed for
church.”

“Aunt
Melissa and her church,” Freddie grumbled, rising from his chair.

Freddie,
Kyle and Melissa arrived at church at 10:32 and found a seat at the back.

“Ladies
and gentleman, brothers and sisters in Christ,” Reverend Andrews, the church
minister was saying, “today we shall try to worship and praise the Lord as
always. When we sing, those who can afford the airtime will sing and those who
can’t will clap their hands to the tune. We won’t allow our poverty to stop us
from praising the Lord. A well-wisher gave me the airtime that made it possible
for me to preach today. Mrs Owen, I thank you for your generosity. Let’s clap
hands for Mrs Owen.”

The
members of the congregation grudgingly clapped hands. Sarah Owen was a
shameless show-off. She was rich and she came to church to show off her wealth.
Whenever she donated money to the church, she made sure that the church
minister announced her donation. She believed that the main use for money was
flaunting it to those who didn’t have it. She drove the most expensive car in
the congregation and she always wore expensive clothes and jewelry.