Brave New Worlds

keep him alive, to keep him alive forever. "It should have made a big difference," she said. "He knew I had a card. "
    "Had he been drinking?"
    "He'd been out messing around. He always seemed to be going someplace. "
    "Why did you shoot him?" asked Officer Hamilton, trying the question one more time.
    "I really don't know," said Linda. "I think I just snapped. "
    "Linda," he said. His eyes narrowed. "People with red cards are allowed to snap. It's their duty to snap. "
    Officer Hamilton pressed on with questions for almost half an hour. How did you feel? Where did you keep your card? Did the handbook prepare you for your role as an enforcer? Linda answered as best she could, but she was ready for it all to end.
    Finally, Officer Hamilton put down his pencil. "that's it," he said.
    "Really?"
    "That wasn't so bad was it?"
    "Not too bad. Anything else?"
    "Just a word of advice," said Officer Hamilton. "If you ever get another red card, don't tell anyone. I don't even know who has them. The program is random and anonymous. That's what makes it work. If you start taking those factors out, the program loses its effectiveness. "
    "Of course," she said, a little embarrassed at having made such a careless mistake.

    Officer Hamilton released Linda and led her to the hallway out. "Do you need a ride?" he asked.
    "I'll go back with Sarah," she said. "I could use a restroom though. "
    In the restroom, Linda checked herself in the mirror. Her lipstick had faded from the right side of her upper lip, and black mascara crept up towards her eyebrow. Her blush had cracked except for the glow on her nose. The night had been hard on her face; she looked old and tired. She freshened her lipstick, brushed her hair, and killed the shine on her nose. It seemed futile. She would need to check Truly Beautiful for a look that could hold up better.
    Linda left the restroom and walked down the long hall to join Sarah in the waiting area. She paused at the end of the hall, dwarfed by the grey partitions that separated the waiting area from the rest of the police station. She could hear voices, several of them, mingling, Sarah's dominant among them.
    Linda looked above the partition and saw a small television, muted and pathetic, hanging from the ceiling. The television's color had shifted long ago, and a bald, blue man in a sweater dispensed advice. She thought she might have seen him before. He seemed vaguely familiar. Was his name Richard? She wasn't sure, but he seemed like a Richard to her. Maybe it wasn't advice; he could be warning her about something, some disaster, some great flood.
    "Well I know what I'll do if I get the card next," she heard Jerry Miles say.
    "Shoot yourself?" asked Freddy Nevers.
    "Never mind, I just changed my plan," cackled Jerry.
    "Well, if either of you get a card, let me know," said Sarah. "You tend to live a lot longer if you know who has the cards. "
    Richard now held a green spray bottle. He was selling something. Of course. Why advise or warn when you can sell. Linda decided to wait until the conversation settled down a little more before joining Sarah. Conversations tended to die once Linda entered into them.
    "I never know who has the cards," said Jerry.
    "I try to make it my business," said Sarah. "I try to make everything my business. " She spit out the words as if they were rehearsed.
    Richard, energetic and passionate now, waved the bottle about in his left hand. He held up a shirt and sprayed it. Linda moved closer to the television, but she couldn't tell if the spray had any effect. Richard sprayed the bottle on the floor and then on himself. He was obviously proud of its versatility. He looked straight at Linda and urged her to buy his product. She needed it. She needed to have what he was selling.
    "What about Linda?" asked Jerry.
    "I've known Linda for years," said Sarah. "Her husband too. "
    "I knew her," said Freddy.
    "But not like I knew her, dear. "
    Linda hated to interrupt; Sarah seemed to be enjoying herself. She wondered what it would be like to enjoy yourself. Linda continued to watch the commercial, one of those long ones, one of those that could go on for five minutes. Richard had toned down the sell and appeared to be whispering, enunciating every word. He had two bottles now, one cradled under each arm, and he was talking to Linda, directly to Linda, only to Linda.
    "Well, she shops at my store," said Jerry. "Buys a lot of makeup. Careful shopper. Always did like her. "
    "Sweetheart,