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no hidden bank accounts, no stash of cash, nor even much barter since all
commodities would be allocated by and kept track of by the syndicates.
Nice and neat. No wonder there were so few crimes, even without the ultimate
punishment angle.
From the individual's viewpoint, he or she was a free employee. But since the
ultimate control was the governments, you'd better not make the syndicate mad
or you might find yourself unemployed and being unemployed for more than three
months for reasons other than medical in this society was a crime punishable
by forced labor. It seemed that those basis raw materials came mostly from
mines and works on several moons of Momrath, and the mining syndicate was
always eager for new workers.
To do anything you needed your identity card, which contained all your
physical data, including your photo, but no name or personal details. That was
on a programmable little microchip in the card itself which could be changed
automatically should someone else find himself or herself in your body. Not to
report a change was a crime punishable by being locked in an undesirable body
and packed off to a lifetime of meaningful labor under the shine of beautiful
Momrath.
The next day I asked our hosts how it would be possible to lock someone into a
body, and was told that some people, through sheer concentration and force of
will, could essentially "cut off" your Warden beasties from sufficient contact
to make a switch. These people, called judges, were on call to the government;
they didn't judge but merely carried out sentences. Top judges working
together could actually force a transfer, too.
And of course there it was. Older, undesirable bodies were always around, and
you could reward the faithful with a young, new body while shipping the
malefactor off to Momrath until he or she dropped dead.
Chief industries were light manufacturing in general, computers and computer
design, weapons, tools, all manner of wood products, seafood protein, and
fertilizer. They even exported some of this stuff beyond the Warden system,
something I hadn't realized was possible. It was even possible to "sterilize"
some types of things, mostly inorganic compounds, and keep them together and
working. That led to an obvious connection. That very human robot that had
broken into the defense computers, for example. Was it possible that somewhere
here among the more primitive machines, at least one place was turning out
these sophisticated robots to some alien-supplied design? And if so, was there
here some sort of programming genius capable of turning out robots so real
they would fool even close friends and family, as had the alien robot? It
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
sounded and felt right. No violent criminals here, they said. Only
technological ones. The best.
By our fourth day all of us were becoming bored and restless. As much as could
be learned in any brief period bad already been taught us, so obviously we
were
file:///F|/rah/Jack%20L.%20Chalker/Chalker,%20...0-%20Cerberus%20A%20Wolf%20in
%20the%20Fold.txt (23 of 122) [7/1/03 1:26:17 AM]
file:///F|/rah/Jack%20L.%20Chalker/Chalker,%20Jack%20-%20FLOD%202%20-%20Cerber
us%20A%20Wolf%20in%20the%20Fold.txt being kept here at this point only for
reasons not yet revealed by our hosts.
For me, the wait was getting dangerous, since several of the prisoners had
formed casual liaisons and I'd been propositioned repeatedly. Pressure mounted
as I became a "challenge" to a couple of the men. I had no desire for any such
experience, not in this body, but the situation was causing a social gap to
open between me and the others. I wanted this waiting over with and for us to
be out in the world as soon as possible.
I also wanted classification, something they certainly should have been able
to do long before now, considering all the tests. I'd tried to angle the
aptitude parts heavily toward computers and math, since not only was that
consistent with the individual I was supposed to be but also that was where
the greatest potential for moving up and finding out things might be. Besides,
I'd listed a high level of expertise on many of the older-type computers in
use here.
Near the end of the fourth day it hit me just what we were waiting for.
Obviously, if some measure of control was needed, they didn't want to throw us
Cerberan virgins out before we knew just what the Warden facts of life would
be.
Close proximity, they'd said.
All those cots all close together.
Acclimation, they'd told us, took three or four days, so it was about right.
They were waiting, then, until the morning when all or most of us woke up in
different bodies.
That thought brought up a mental dilemma for me. If we had to switch to leave,
I'd rather leave as a man but because of the personal problem I noted, I'd
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