SFSD 6.0 Round 2 - Dystopian Quotes!  Greenpunk

Challenge - to write a dystopian sci-fi story and incorporate five quotes from a given selection, these appear in bold.

#1 - 2 Every man has to decide for themselves which side they are on.

#2 - 6 Anyone that wants to challenge that will have to deal with me.

#3 - 1 This is a witch-hunt. I will not have it aboard my ship.

#4 - 6 For instance, on the planet Earth, man had always assumed that he was more intelligent than dolphins because he had achieved so much - the wheel, New York, wars and so on - whilst all the dolphins had ever done was muck about in the water having a good time. But conversely, the dolphins had always believed that they were far more intelligent than man - for precisely the same reasons.

#5 - 1 He needed to sleep but more importantly than that he needed to rub one out, which he did, twice.

GREEN REVOLUTION

Eco-Enforcer Tom Forest stared at the sawn off stump in disbelief. Only a day ago, possibly two, there had been a living tree there, providing shade and more importantly, cleaning the air and storing carbon. He transferred his gaze to the perpetrator, a short stocky man in dusty workman's clothes, standing opposite, looking back, guiltily defiant. 

"It had to go!" he insisted. "It was dropping branches on the house, leaves in the gutters. Made a mess all over the paving." 

Forest shook his head, "You should have put in a request to council. Cutting down a tree? That's a third degree felony." 

"But I did! I made three requests. They did nothing!" the man protested indignantly, starting to feel a little uneasy. 'Third degree felony' didn't sound good. 

Forest examined the stump more closely. "Eucalyptus leucoxylon, sub species megalocarpa, a red flowering gum," he pronounced with absolute certainty. "Only twelve years old," he added sadly.  

"That'll be at least a year in the tree nurseries for you, after you finish your rehabilitation of course." 

"A year? I can't spend a year stuffing around with plants! I have a job, a family to support." 

"You should have thought of that before you cut the tree down," Forest reproved, unsympathetically. "Perhaps the judge will let you do your service on weekends, although of course that will stretch out the sentence." 

He entered the details into his palmtop, taking a couple of pictures of the stump as supporting evidence. "Where's your blackboard?" he demanded impatiently.  

Reluctantly the other man handed it over and Forest wrote down a date and time in red chalk. "That's your court hearing, Woodville council chambers, Wednesday the fifteenth, 14:00 hours. Don't be late." 

He left the man clutching his blackboard, the defiance now replaced with fear.  

Forest had no sympathy for him, some people just didn't deserve to live in a house with a real garden. If he had to sell it now and move into a zero-energy apartment while he worked off his debt to society, that was his problem.  

He looked down at his palmtop for details of his next assignment. Since the Green Revolution, fifty years ago, electronic devices were severely limited. Personal devices were issued only to individuals occupying various carefully monitored positions, Eco-Enforcers being one of them. People who had been brought up in the rampant technological age before the Revolution would have been amazed at how little technology modern people needed. Blackboards for instance, blackboards were ideal for recording messages and information. They could be used multiple times and once produced, required absolutely no energy to keep operating. 

His next assignment was to investigate a rumour that Apartment Block Golden Wattle in Garden Sector 2 was running a private television set. Just for themselves! Using precious electricity for something as frivolous as entertainment. Forest shook his head. Why couldn't they watch the community television in the town hall like everybody else? If there was a particular program they wanted to watch, they could submit their request and as long as it wasn't pornographic they would have had their turn, eventually. 

He let himself into the building and crept silently along the passage. Headquarters had received a tipoff from a disgruntled resident, advising that the television could be found on the upper story, presumably so the perps could siphon off enough energy from the solar panels on the roof to run it. He could hear a soft murmur as he drew near. It certainly sounded like a television. Carefully he opened the door and peered inside. Straightaway he could see the screen against the far wall, with upwards of thirty people sitting on the floor watching it. The program appeared to be some sort of fiction, not even something worthwhile. He heard the actor speaking, 

"For instance, on the planet Earth, man had always assumed that he was more intelligent than dolphins because he had achieved so much - the wheel, New York, wars and so on - whilst all the dolphins had ever done was muck about in the water having a good time. But conversely, the dolphins had always believed that they were far more intelligent than man - for precisely the same reasons." 

Well that was true enough, perhaps the program was educational after all. Never mind, that wasn't the point. He flung the door open wide. "This is a raid! You have breached Section 12 (a) of the Electricity Use Act, and your television will be confiscated. In addition, your whole apartment block will have your electricity ration reduced by 50% for the next twelve months." 

"That's not fair!" shouted one woman. "We just wanted to watch our own choice of program, the electricity is coming from our own solar panels, where's the harm?" 

Forest frowned. "It's not just your electricity madam. Electricity is a shared, community resource. You are stealing from everyone by running this pirate set. Anyone that wants to challenge that will have to deal with me. I can easily add some further charges. Anyone?" 

Silence. He made a request into his palmtop for two removal staff to come and take the television, and stood there waiting until they arrived. The occupants began to file out, heads lowered, some in shame but he could see others were just trying to hide their anger.  

Forest found that people constantly amazed him, and not in a good way. The council provided a large television for twelve hours of the day, free of charge. Why couldn't they have been grateful, instead of greedy, wanting their own set? When he was a child, there hadn't been any television at all, electricity had to be saved for essential services, there hadn't been any to spare for entertainment. During the last days of the terrible Technology Era, nearly all the planet's resources had been used or destroyed. The once great Amazon forests were reduced to a few isolated pockets, the Indonesian rainforests replaced by palm oil plantations which had a limited lifespan of up to thirty years and then left the soil bare and depleted.  

As for wild animals, the few who had survived now lived in zoos, subject to intensive breeding programs. Many had become extinct, but he had heard there were promising signs that kangaroos might be able to be released back into the wild in a few years. They had already made a successful transition from zoos to open air parks. Wouldn't that be something to see? Kangaroos bounding across the red plains, just like in the old films. 

It was going to take years to rebuild even a fraction of the forests and jungles. Wood as a commercial product no longer existed, that meant no paper, no books, no fires, no wooden tools or furniture, at least, nothing that was new. Only that which could be salvaged from the past and reused. 

Energy supplies were vastly reduced from previous levels, electricity was now produced only by natural processes, wind and solar. Which meant that it had to be used sparingly in return. Lighting, cooking and moderate heating were all provided for, but many factories had had to close or diversify. Farming went back to manual labour, a good thing in Forest's opinion as it provided work for a lot of people. 

The two removalists arrived and took away the set, grumbling a bit at the weight. He hoped they wouldn't have too far to carry it to the nearest recycling depot. 

He looked at his palmtop. What was his next assignment? He read the instructions in front of him ... and his mouth dropped open in sheer horror. 

XXX 

Lucy Farmer gazed down at the small bundle in her arms. Despite her fear, she smiled at the tiny fingers gripping her thumb. Hope was perfect, only a week old. Jason, her four year old brother, peered over to have look too. It was dark in the ship's hold but that couldn't be helped. She put a finger to her lips, warning him to be quiet. She wriggled, trying to get comfortable amongst the bags which contained all their possessions, at least all those they could carry, to start their new life in New Zealand.  

The ship should be leaving soon surely? Every moment they delayed increased the danger. Where was Joe? He'd said he was just going up on deck to give the crew a hand but he'd been gone for ages. Her heart was pounding, her mouth dry with fear, she knew she wouldn't relax until they actually reached New Zealand. She tried to pull herself together, breathe evenly, you would have thought that after nine months she would have got used to the anxiety. She, and Joe for that matter, were breaking the law. And not just any law, the one at the very top of the list of the new Green Australia. Each couple shall only have one child between them. 

She could see how that had once been necessary, back in the days immediately after the Revolution when countries were struggling to feed millions after the collapse of technology. But surely the situation had improved since? Back then it was either reduce the population by controlled child birth or by death from starvation and for the first few years it had often been both. Most countries had chosen the former option, fiercely defending their borders from the ones that hadn't. 

Last she had heard, there was still some fighting going on in Asia but Australia was lucky, being an island and so far away, once the planes and ocean going ships ceased to operate, that is. The ship they were on now was a large yacht, salvaged after the Revolution and carefully maintained by its owner. She didn't know what would happen when the last of these fell apart, maybe there would be enough timber by then to build wooden ships like they had in the good old days, the golden age of sail. At the moment she found it hard to care, all her energy was tied up in wanting this particular ship to cross the Tasman Sea. 

New Zealand didn't have the same laws on population control, they had relaxed theirs a few years ago, allowing two children per couple. There was pressure from a few small lobby groups for Green Australia to do the same, but nothing had happened yet. Each day the news reported a small but steady stream of illegal boat people trying to get across the Tasman. The risks were high, but the risks of staying were even higher. If they caught you, they would take away a member of your family in trade for the baby, and you would never see them again. 

Joe Farmer was on deck getting ready to cast off when the Eco-Enforcers arrived, six of them wearing the trademark green suits. He threw the rope up onto the deck and leapt aboard, pretending he hadn't heard the shout to stand still. Go! Go! he screamed inside his head to the Captain. With agonising slowness the yacht drew away from the dock, slowly moving out into the channel. Joe watched the figures of the Enforcers grow smaller as they headed out to the open sea. 

Then he went down to see Lucy in the hold. "We're safe! We got away just in time!" he said, jubilant. Lucy offered a tremulous smile, she wouldn't believe it until they landed in Greymouth, on New Zealand's South Island. She nursed the baby, who was fretting, and asked Joe to get Jason something to eat too. At least, now they were at sea, they didn't need to be frightened of making a little noise.  

Her mind went back to the day she had realised she was pregnant. Unbelievably, for the second time. After the live birth of a first child, the mother and father were supposed to be automatically sterilised, thus solving the problem of contraceptive failure. However, two accidents had combined to allow a second pregnancy, the sterilising procedure hadn't been completed properly on Lucy, and Joe had been out fishing at the time. He had slipped through the net so to speak, and had never bothered to follow up because they both thought Lucy couldn't have any more children. The second pregnancy had been four months along before they realised something had gone wrong, or wonderfully right depending on how you looked at it. Joe and Lucy had exchanged glances and that had been that. They had never actually verbalised their decision to go ahead and have another, forbidden child. Joe had started making plans immediately to flee to New Zealand.  

For the first time in her life Lucy had been glad she was built on the plump side. She complained constantly, to the extreme boredom of all her friends and neighbours about putting on extra weight and nobody had suspected it was due to something other than overeating. The last month she had kept to the house, and Joe had spread the word that she had glandular fever. Nothing to worry about, although yes, it was highly contagious, and probably best if people didn't visit. They had hoped to escape before the birth but the baby had come early and so here they were, all four of them hiding in the hold of the Adventurer. 

They were about an hour out of Adelaide when disaster struck. The yacht came to an unexpected halt. Had the wind dropped? Joe could feel the lack of motion and strained his ears trying to hear what had happened. To their dismay, they heard the sound of heavy boots on the deck above.  

"Eco-Enforcer Forest here Captain. I have reason to believe you are carrying enemies of the state on your ship. Stand aside, my men are going to search the vessel." 

" 'Enemies of the state'? What nonsense! This is a witch-hunt. I will not have it aboard my ship."  

"That's up to you of course Captain. Every man has to decide for themselves which side they are on. But let me tell you that if you fail to co-operate you run the risk of losing your ship, in addition to facing a sentence of several years hard labour for people smuggling. " 

Captain O'Shaun looked down at the deck, defeated. As soon as he had seen the bright green boat pulling out to intercept them from Cape Jarvis he had known there would be trouble. He just hadn't realised how much. A hefty fine he had thought, which his passengers had promised to pay. He hadn't dreamt he would be risking his whole livelihood, his beautiful ship. 

He couldn't meet Joe Farmer's eyes as the small family was dragged up on deck, each adult held between two enforcers, the boy slung over the shoulder of one. 

Forest's expression was grim as the prisoners were transferred across to the launch. He looked back at the Captain, "Wise decision. You'll be hearing from the Naval Council in due course." 

"What will happen to them?" the Captain couldn't help asking. 

Forest hesitated and for one moment O'Shaun thought he wasn't going to answer. "Most likely one of the adults will be sentenced to Organics. The judge usually lets them decide which one." 

The Captain relaxed, that didn't sound so bad. A stint of manual labour never hurt anyone. They'd be alright. 

XXX 

Tom Forest gazed down at the huge vat of organic slurry, after going through the mincer, it resembled nothing so much as a huge cauldron of soup. He looked away, he hated this part of the job. Luckily it only came around a couple of times a year. He made sure once again that the vat was marked 'Not for human consumption' in thick red chalk. That would ensure it went to fertilise the forest plantation instead of the vegetable gardens. 

He picked up his small blackboard which had the list of today's organic wastes to be recycled on it, and left. Time to go home, have a shower and a bit of supper if he could manage it. It was a long walk home but the exercise would help.  

He let himself in to his apartment, and went straight into the bathroom for a long shower, it was the same water being recycled but it still felt good. On second thoughts he didn't think he could face any dinner. Time for bed. 

He opened up the couch which doubled as a bed and sat down. His eyes were drawn inexorably to the blackboard which was still propped up on the dresser. He couldn't help but read the list. 

Kitchen waste - Banksia Apartments 

Kitchen waste - Queens Hospital 

Garden waste - Woodville Council 

Joe Farmer 

He needed to sleep but more importantly than that he needed to rub one out, which he did, twice.