Plasma Cat

Ch. 2: Souvenirs

"I really shouldn't be saying this, but you've got to stop coming here. I am starting to get worried."

Hank leaned back in his overstuffed and over-decorated chair and regarded the old gypsy with a quizzical expression.

"What do you care?" he retorted. "Some people spend their disposable income on golfing, or video games, or drugs. I choose to spend it on this."

"I am not complaining," the gypsy replied, "I am just genuinely concerned. Believe it or not, I do well enough that I do not have to swindle anyone, and I would rather not. It displeases the spirits."

Hank rolled his eyes. "So, what do they say? Has the prognosis changed?"

The gypsy just sighed.

"Damn it, I paid for an answer now give it to me."

"No," the gypsy said sadly, "it is the same. It's always the same. You know that, so why do you keep coming here?"

"Hell if I know."

After a moment of silence the gypsy looked directly into Hank's eyes.

"Would you like to hear a lie? A sweet, soothing lie. On the house."

"Sure."

"I see you walking through a forest. The mountains surround you, but they protect you, shield you from the chill of autumn. The air is cool and crisp, and you walk with a powerful stride, the mark of a man who knows where he is going. You have a rifle slung over your shoulder, and a boy walks by your side. There, in the distance, a deer feeds on the green grass of a meadow. The boy lies down, but you remain standing. The boy implores you to shoot the deer before it notices you, but you say nothing. The deer can sense you and looks up, directly into your eyes, but it feels no hatred in your gaze and returns to grazing. The boy asks, "what are you doing?", and you reply that you are simply living. And the two of you continue on towards the setting sun."

Hank was silent for a moment. Eventually he asked, "what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Perhaps in time you will understand," the gypsy replied.

____^._.^____

"Seven Henry Two, come in."

"This is Seven Henry Two, go ahead."

"Seven Henry Two, we have a report of a... uh, suspected suicide, 1400 block Wilshire. Can you respond?"

"Sure, we aren't doing anything."

"Seven Henry Two, is that an affirmative?"

"Yes, yes, affirmative."

"Seven Henry Two, I'm sorry, couldn't quite hear you there, say again?"

"Yes, yes, yes, si, da, ja! Affirmative!"

"Roger Seven Henry Two, I'm sending the address to you now."

Robert swore as he struggled to place the radio back into its stand, missing a few times due to the insufficient lighting provided by the streetlamps that swooshed by outside the car. "Jesus, when are they going to replace this piece of junk? Have you seen what those fuckers down in San Diego are using?"

"No," Hank replied, "but who cares?"

"I care!", Robert complained as the address appeared on the radio's display and he quickly made a U-turn in response. "Here we are in the largest city in California, hell, the largest city besides New York, and we're using these damn radios to respond to calls. Meanwhile, in San Diego they're using the new PATROL system. It's outta this world, it's basically your own personal supercomputer. It comes with these little drones which follow the car around and using all this fancy tech the system records and analyzes everything within several square miles around the car. If anyone jaywalks or even just has an expired tag, bam! You got video of the crime and the system routes you in to make the stop. The officer I was riding with claimed that they can patrol the same sized area more efficiently than before with a tenth as many cops. It's incredible."