The Flash Collection

Gun

"Can't you please help me?"

"I'm sorry, sir. You know the rules as well as I do. No ID, no sale."

"I ran three blocks to get here. It's an emergency. I'll come back with my driving licence and credit card if you want. My card wallet is in the back of my van with all my other equipment." Matthew looked and the impassive face behind the perspex screen. "Come on. Please. I need this. I've enough cash here to buy what I need-"

"But no ID. Selling these things for cash is illegal if you can't prove who you are."

God damn the Security and Surveillance Act. Every web-enabled communication device had to be registered and traceable, like vehicles. Any government agent could access any device at any time, and a central automated monitor kept all communications under constant scrutiny. An ever changing algorithm checked for key words and actions, locking users out of suspect devices until the registered owner presented it to a security official to prove his or her innocence.

Matthew had dropped his phone whilst running to get a story. Every piece of screen glittering the pavement reflected the truth: this was going to be a difficult day. He shook his head and was glad there was nobody else in the store.

"Do you know who I am? Do you recognise me from the news? I'm in the middle of a report. I've recorded it to my cloud, I need a device to send it on to my editor."

"I know who you look like, sir. But I can't make a cash sale without ID. If I was caught -if, for example, you were an undercover reporter- I would lose my retail licence. No ID, no sale."

"Okay. Okay, fine. I'll be back in a few minutes."

It took considerable willpower to not slam the door on his way out.

Almost ten minutes later, a collar of sweat around his neck, he pushed the shop door open. He didn't know why he ran back. By now the report was superfluous. The incident was all over state-approved social media, and would have been picked up by several other news stations.

"Here. Two forms of ID, as per state regulations. Driving licence and citizen card. Now, what can I get for four-fifty?"

"Quite a lot, sir. I imagine you need something with good audio and video capture, but also with editing skills. Not to mention plenty of memory and a decent upload speed. I'd recommend this."

"Thanks."

He opened the battery compartment. A standard energy cell. At least that avoided one headache. He took what remained of his old device from his pocket, and put it into his new phone.

The screen lit up. He scanned his thumb and iris, and awaited the confirmation message. The phone would be useless until the Central Communications Agency verified his identity. Sometimes it took minutes, sometimes hours. He'd even heard of them taking a week. No sense staring at it. He put it in his jacket pocket and spoke to the store owner.

"Are you able to deregister and dispose here? This new one will put me over the two-SIM limit."

"Of course. Our standard service costs fifty, and can take up to a week to work through the system. To avoid complications and delay I'd recommend our premium service, which gets the job done in thirty minutes. Particularly since you've started the process of registering your new device."

"How much?"

"Two-fifty."

Matthew sighed, and produced his credit card.

"That's me on a budget 'til payday."

"Thank you, sir. If you don't mind, before you leave..."

"Yes?"

"I was wondering. I've not had a screen on all day, and, well, what was the story you were working on?"

"It doesn't matter now. It'll be old news by the time I'm back online. There was a guy down at the cinema. Walked into Guns-R-Us first. Bought one of those budget two-hundred credit semi-automatics, walked into a screening of The Soul Bazaar and opened fire. Killed about eight people, injured a bunch of others."

"Terrible. Explains the sirens I heard, though. You think they'll ever, you know, put some sort of limit on the guns people can buy? Maybe some security screening or something?"

Matthew thought for a second, then shook his head.

"Nope. Can't see it myself. It'd infringe our civil liberties."

He looked at the screen of his new phone. Still not approved. He waved it at the shop owner.

"Guess I'll be losing a day's pay at this rate. Take care, my friend. Maybe I'll see you around."

My longform fiction can be purchased via http://books.pronoun.com/AnthonyMorganClark. My website is www.AnthonyMorganClark.com