The Precinct

Joyce liked introducing new Redmond residents to the Precinct. The building was always clean and friendly, the kids were allowed to play with dummied-weapons, the adults were introduced to the patrols who guarded their neighborhood, and it was more than a mere informative tour, it was a festival.

Four surly Precinct officers muscled two suspects through the front door past Joyce, leaving two individual trails of blood. Joyce said merrily, "Oh, folks, this is a real treat." She panicked, hoping she would get the three different families' attention before the scene ended. "The woman in the front is our very own Janet Parkinson, a graduate of Rose Hill. She learned that karate-chop she just used to break the suspects collar bone with from the Precinct's defense course, which is available through our Plantinum Protection Program. And there's Henry Wallis, who just slipped in that pool of blood, Carl Ruttledge, and Shane Olson."

The parents smiled and clapped. One timid mother stepped forward. "Is it true that you promote violence and unorthodox methods of interrogation as an answer to crime?"

Joyce frowned inwardly. She absolutely despised politically correct people who always had to be picky. She believed that if they didn't like it, they could move into Bellevue, or just not hire them. "Sometimes," she said with a bright smile, "violence isn't always the answer. But when it is needed, let it be no secret that our policy is to promote safe violence. All of our officers are medically insured, relatives outside of Redmond are on witness protection programs, and believe it or not, they use rubber bullets and rock salt."

"But," the woman argued, "isn't it true a Precinct patrol threw eighteen grenades in the bottom of a swimming pool last week when they tried to break up a party a teenager was throwing when her parents were out of town?"

Joyce turned away and spoke into a lapel mike, "logic scan on lady in white polka dot pants." She turned around and smiled brightly again. Somewhere behind the wall, a large boom swung around and began to digitally reconstruct the woman's cognitive processes and implant subliminal suggestions to counter each of her own arguments. "You know how the media gets. They print what people want to read. Besides, what would you do if your daughter invited one hundred of her friends over and trashed your house?"

One of the parents muttered that she'd shoot her.

Joyce smiled candidly, "Exactly." Her lapel buzzed and a monotone voice spoke in her ear, "logic scan enabled. Rebuilding client's cognitive analysis resulting in doubts." Joyce rolled her eyes, but continued, "but, I want you to know that party was over right then and those kids were studying the rest of the week."

The adults laughed, even the lady who had argued.

When the group had left, two families signing for Platinum Protection and the argumentative lady signing for the Diamond Defense, the highest level, Joyce pulled at her hair and leaned on the counter, looking at Janet.

"You know, it gets really old sometimes when people ask the same stupid questions." She cursed under her breathe and mimed in a snide tone, "do you have to be so violent? What if one of my children commits a crime. Are they exempt? Sheesh, if we did that, we'd be in the same boat we were before the Precinct was started."

Janet ejected a magazine of explosive tipped .475 rounds. "Rubber bullets my ass, Joyce. Damn, so when I shoot one of their dogs for peeing in the neighbors yard, you know how hard it will be to find some poor kid to frame? Especially if school isn't out yet."

Joyce put on her best yucky face and called, "Hey, Mary, clean up this blood. It's getting all over my shoes." She reached for Janet's patrol helmet and put it on. "God, I love these things. Wait, wait." She activated the computer link and requested a jury, then looked at Janet. A small screen was projected in the upper left corner of twelve people in a conference room. The computer generated jury leader said in a monotone voice, "The jury is deliberating the crime." Several moments later, a second projection popped up in the upper right hand corner. This time of a judge. "The defendant has been found guilty of loitering. Police brutality approved. Possession of a lethal weapon assumed. Use of lethal force acceptible."

Joyce took the helmet off and set it back done. "Do you even listen to the jury and judge anymore?"

Janet cocked the .475 and shook her head. "Why? It's been on the fritz for the last month. All we get is 'police brutality approved, et cetera'. I'll tell you, it gets tiring of blowing up stray dogs and framing people for stupid things other people call in."

Joyce shrugged. "Hey, if someone calls in about a stray dog and is only on our Thrift Security plan, you pat the dog on the butt and send it home. If they are on Diamond Defense," she smiled.

Janet rolled her eyes, "eighteen grenades in the swimming pool and the daughter blasted into so many pieces even her dentist couldn't identify her."

Joyce nodded, "exactly."

"So what are you doing tonight?" Janet put away her weapon and attached her helmet to her body armor.

"Going to back to my apartment in Bellevue. Wanna come over? We could go out for pizza."

"Sure, I'm sick of hiding out at home. I really ought to move outside this district where it is safer. God knows I don't want to get caught up in any ruckus the night patrols stir up." Janet brushed her hands through her hair.

"What was it last time? That car thing, wasn't it?"

"You mean when they packed a pickup bed full of explosives, put the key in the ignition, and waited for someone to try and steal it?"

"No, the other one."

Janet thought for a moment. "Oh, when they called in an airstrike on that old couple for not signalling a lane change."

Joyce smiled, "That was so cool from my apartment."

"Yeah, makes you wonder, doesn't it."