The Power of One Shot

Every time I was sent on one of the recruitment stations, my heart wept. Thousands of parents auction their children off, every day, just to afford the payments on their hovercrafts. The worst part, it was my job to "purchase" these children and send them off to any company my commander told me to. It was an illegal operation, but since the Third World War in 2018 twenty years ago, the military needed the money. A little child ran up to me and to my horror I knew her.

"Ms. Carrie? Is that you?" The little child asked trying to keep the Plexiglass covering on her coat from slipping off. As I looked at her, I saw the scars on her cheeks and I knew I had caused them. Her name was Mel, and last month I had packed her up and sent her to work in a force field company called, Blizenchrist.

"Yes it is. What are you doing here Mel? Tell me what happened at Blizenchrist." I asked her desperately hoping I had not put this child through some unthinkable horror.

"I ran away, after I saw them shoot Tally with a Neurogun." Neuroguns? They were the worst weapons ever created. If even one shot hit you, your body slowly disintegrated. And these weapons were being used in a factory where most of the worker population was under the age of seven? My whole body shook just thinking about it.

"Now Mel, are you sure they hit Tally with a Neurogun?"

"Yes ma'am, at least that's what the other kids said it was." Then she started to cry. I grabbed her up into my arms and carried her out of the recruitment station. As I walked out, I tried not to think about all those children who could've been killed at that factory and many others like it. I had to try to use the DNA pad for my hovercraft several times before it finally allowed me inside. As I placed Mel on a seat, it instantly turned into soft muslin, which comforted her. I began to cry knowing that my MindSeats were the only comfort she had probably had in weeks. Then I sped around the corner to the military central building.

When I arrived, I carried Mel into the building and waited as the televator transferred us exactly to where I wanted to go, the Office of Child Protection. That is what the sign said, what it really meant was the Office of Child labor. I placed Mel in the care of one of secretaries and then knocked on the door to my boss's office.

"What is it? I'm busy!" He screamed as I walked into the room.

"Sir, I have some information that I was not formerly aware of."

"And what is that, Annabelle?" He asked me.

"This morning, I left to go to the recruitment station over by the Robocop Repair Shop, like I always do. When I arrived there, I met one of the children I had sent to the Blizenchrist factory a month ago."

"Did she run away? And if so you know her salary come out of your credicheck," he said with a mad look in his eyes.

"I know sir and yes she did run away but that's not the point. The child gave me some . . . unsettling news."

"And I suppose you want to report this to me because you think it is immorally wrong, Annabelle?"

"Yes sir. The child reported to me that she saw another girl get blasted with a Neurogun." He had a sudden look of terror on his face but not because of the poor child's fate but he soon got over it.

"The child could be lying, Annabelle."

"I know she didn't sir because she explained the blast in extraordinary detail," I replied. It wasn't a complete lie; the mere look on Mel's face was explanation enough, at least for me.

"Fine but Annabelle, it is only one child. It's not that big a deal." As he finished, I couldn't believe what he had said. Just one child, but there could be thousands more just like the girl Mel had described to me. There needed to be a military investigation. I didn't care if the President might notice what his military had been doing illegally for years. There were children dying, for I knew the shooting Mel had witnessed couldn't be the only one. I had problems with sending these children off to factories before, but had been learning to deal with but killings? No, I would not stand for it, I didn't care that I would lose everything I owned and probably be killed, I was going to quit. I couldn't be responsible for all those young lives but first I had to get Mel to a safe place.

"You're right, sir. I just thought you would like to have it brought to your attention." I turned to leave, but my boss began to speak.

"Annabelle, don't event think about quitting, you know what will happen if you do."

"I will be killed with a Neurogun myself so there will be no evidence. I know the protocol of our government, sir."

"Just making sure." Then I turned and left slowly. In the secretary's office I picked up the sleeping Mel and then raced down the steps. I had no time to take the televator if I was going to get Mel to the adoption center on the other side of town. Finally, after what seemed hours, I entered the adoption center. I quickly typed in all the information I could remember from Mel's employment sheet. Thankfully, the computer found a nice looking couple. I then place Mel, who was stil fast asleep in the teleporting chamber and softly whispered "Goodbye," and then pushed the button that sent her off to her new home. Now I was ready for the hard part. I accused the telephone chip lodged into my brain as a young child and called my boss, he answered.

"Hello?"

"Sir, I quit." I said my whole body shaking out of fear.

"Are you sure, Annabelle? You know you won't be able to escape. I doubt you haven't forgotten the tracking chip in your leg."

"I haven't sir but I can't be responsible for any more deaths."

"Fine. I give you a day at the most." He said with a sigh.

""Have a nice life sir." I then disconnected the call. Then I ran. I was gong to do everything in my power to make someone, anyone see what was happening, in the few minutes, hours, or perhaps days I had left.