Episodes 21-24 of The Coup Conspiracy (dystopian cryptocurrency novel)
Lando struggles to maintain his dignity as he searches for a real job. Someone is following him.
Hi guys! As promised, here are episodes 6 thru 8.
Previous Episodes
- Episodes 1-3 of The Coup Conspiracy
- Episodes 4-5 of The Coup Conspiracy
- Episodes 6-8 of The Coup Conspiracy
- Episodes 9-20 of The Coup Conspiracy
The United States is in slow-motion economic collapse. The Three Strikes Act funnels the unemployed masses into a national network of work camps for the most trivial of infractions.
Lando Cruz is a scrappy rebel who risks his final strike on the streets of Philadelphia by trading illegal currencies under cover of a burrito stand. He spends his days bribing dirty cops, fending off undercover federal agents and shepherding his little sister through adolescence.
Lando is getting by until beat cops seize his savings and kidnap his sister for ransom. He has thirty days to raise the hard cash he needs to free her before she is sold into sex slavery. His only chance is a lucrative job offer from the black market rebellion's paramilitary startup, the Core. He risks both his life and his principles to get his sister back before time runs out.
Episode 21: Connection
“Hi, uh, is this — is this … The Core?” Lando asked. He stood down the street from his corner and watched the traffic pass. The hot dog cart occupied his usual spot. He pulled his extra-long-bill baseball cap down tighter over his forehead.
There was a pause. “Wrong number.” The line died.
Lando furrowed his brow. He dialed again. He heard the line open on the other side. No one spoke. “I was told you were hiring.”
The call disconnected.
I must need a connection. Lando opened the ABA website. Maybe he does business under the same name. He searched the business directory but there was no sign of Takoda.
Lando hit redial. It rang once, twice, three times. That’s enough of that.
The call connected. “Be at the alley where Takoda told you about us, 5 PM on the dot. Do not arrive earlier than 4:58 PM.” The line went dead.
Lando’s eyes got big. Takoda told them about me, I guess. He stretched his hands up above his head and looked up. Oh, this had better work out.
He called Mariana.
“Hey, where have you been, big bro?” she asked.
“Laying low. Anything from Mr. Johansson?”
“No, but we’re thinking he could show up any minute now. Dad wants us to get started moving stuff next door. Can you be here in fifteen minutes?”
Lando frowned. “No, Mari, I’ve got a job interview.”
“Oh my God, Dad is going to be so happy! Is it corporate or government?” She paused. “Do you think you’ll get it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to get your hopes up.” Lando bit his lip.
Mariana giggled. “So is it corporate or government?”
“Um —“
“Hey, here’s Dad.”
“No —“
“Lando, you have a job interview?” Dad asked. “Corporate or government?”
“Da—“
Dad raised his voice. “Neither.”
Lando was silent.
“Is it really so hard to give a dying man what he wants? Go visit the corporate and government job listings.”
“Bu—“
“No buts!” Dad hung up.
Episode 22: Govcorp
“Where is everybody?” Lando whispered.
He stepped onto a dark marble floor. To his left, translucent white wall panels ran from floor to high ceiling. To his right, peeling prints of famous works of art by Picasso, Goya and Delacroix hung crooked on a glossy red brick wall.
He approached a round, black plastic bubble. Is it a computer terminal? The bubble rotated and a woman at a desk appeared.
“Welcome to Govcorp. We place most of our workers,” she said in a nasal tone of voice, “via an online application process.” She looked into her phone and smiled. She looked up and observed Lando from the tip of her nose. “Perhaps you’d like to try it.”
“Thanks but I’d like to get it over with.” Lando wrinkled his nose and nodded his head. How do they keep this place so clean?
She led him to an all-white cubicle. “Wait here a second, sir, and an associate will be right with you.” The skin above her mouth curled.
Lando pulled the chair away from the front of the desk and it slammed into the cubicle wall. He stepped one foot over the chair and sat with one leg on each side of it. His knees rubbed against the hard metal desk.
A portly man wearing glasses and a beard waddled into the cubicle. He said nothing. He moved papers around.
“I’d like —“ started Lando.
The man held up his open palm.
Lando sat back and crossed his arms. Another superior jerk. How long is this going to take?
“ID number, please.” The man shifted over to his keyboard. He looked at Lando over the top of his glasses.
“Lando Jeriko Cruz.”
The man sneered. “Not your name. Your number.”
Lando firmed his jaw. I’m a person, not a number. He pulled out his citizenship card and tossed it across the desk.
The man stared him for a moment before picking up the card.
“Lando J. Cruz, 22 years old. No college. No high school.” He turned to study Lando. “That’s a manual labor profile.”
Lando sat up straight. “Give me the standardized tests. I will pass all of them.”
The corners of the man’s mouth turned down. He took off his glasses. “That’s against policy.”
“Forget policy.” Lando leaned forward and tapped his fingers on the desk.
Episode 23: Janitorial Administration
“Okay, Ace, is this some kind of joke?” the man asked.
Lando frowned at him. “What —“
Two security guards entered the cubicle. They made Lando stand up and started rifling through his pockets.
“What is this?” Lando yelled, pushing the guards away.
“You cheated on the standardized test. We’ve got you dead to rights.” The man refused to look at him. “That’s a class seven offense.”
Lando’s lips pulled back from his teeth. “I don’t cheat!”
“Sure,” the man said.
“Larry, he’s got nothing on him.” The guards left.
Larry scrutinized Lando. “I know you cheated because these tests results,” he said, pointing at his screen, “are not possible.”
Lando sat down and suppressed a grin. “Why exactly are they not possible?”
“A high school dropout does not get a perfect score on a post-undergraduate placement exam.” Larry touched his headset. “I’m calling the police now.”
“You’ve got no evidence!” Lando yelled.
“Not even real college graduates get a perfect score, sir. Next time, try to blend in a little better.” Larry looked up. “Yes, I’d like to report a crime. Level seven. Understood.”
“Just because I didn’t go to school doesn’t mean I’m not educated,” Lando said. “They still have libraries and websites.” He lifted his chin. “That’s not a strike, is it?”
“Yes. Yes, it is,” said Larry. “This is your chance to run away. They’ll take a while to get — seven hours!” Larry hung up. “You got lucky. The wait time to report —“
Lando sneered. “You’re just lazy. That’s why you’re trying to get rid of me. You don’t want to do any actual work.”
Larry breathed out. “Alright, sir, I don’t know how you cheated.” He put his hands up. “I don’t actually care. You win. But it won’t do you any good. Policy is that that high school dropouts do manual labor.”
Lando stood up. “But I passed the test! If the test doesn’t count for anything, then why do you give it?”
Larry held up a palm an inch from Lando’s face. “Now, I have one manual labor position available at this time. It’s an outsourced government job. Three shifts per day: 5 to 11 AM, 3 to 6 PM and 7 to 11 PM.”
“I could do the morning shift,” Lando said.
“No, you didn’t understand, young man. It’s all three shifts,” said Larry.
“All three shifts? When do you get to go home and relax?”
Larry shrugged. “From 11 PM to 5 AM, I guess. How would I know? I don’t work that job. It pays minimum wage, $240 an hour.”
“What’s the job?” asked Lando.
“It says, ‘Law Enforcement - Janitorial Administration.’”
Lando scowled. “What is that?”
“Cleaning toilets at police stations,” said Larry.
Lando stood up. “Are you kidding me?”
“It’s fifteen days on, fifteen days off. That new job-sharing regulation applies to this,” said Larry.
“Job-sharing?” asked Lando.
Larry flapped his hand at Lando. “How can you claim to be well-educated if you don’t keep up with the laws? In order to stimulate employment, many classes of full-time jobs are being split into two distinct employment contracts. Now two can do the job where once it only took one. So you would work half the month and someone else would work the second half. Were you able to understand that, Mr. Cruz?”
Lando ignored Larry’s attitude. Cleaning cop toilets? Me? Cleaning toilets for cops? Lando stood up and leaned forward on Larry’s desk. “You must have something else.”
“Now,” said Larry, “there is quite a lot of competition for this position.”
Lando looked up and let out a loud breath.
“There are only ten slots available.” Larry typed in his computer. “Ah, bad news, sir. You have a criminal record. That automatically moves you to the bottom of the applicant pool. And I already have about seven-thousand applications for this position. Sorry, it’s policy.” Larry closed out Lando’s file and looked down at his desk.
Lando did not budge.
Larry looked up at him. “Have a nice day, sir. I have nothing else appropriate for your profile at this time.”
Lando stormed out of the cubicle. He stared at the red specks in the marble floor. Not only is this place useless but they make me feel like shit on top of it!
A pair of black shoes entered Lando’s field of vision. He looked up. It was Jaffari.
Episode 24: Sippy
Lando ducked into a cubicle. A plump older lady had her feet up and her eyes closed. Jaffari passed.
Lando tiptoed out of the Govcorp office and crossed the street to The Gallery Mall. He ran down the steps and into the underground area. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
He headed for a hot dog shop and grabbed a seat in the back corner. He slumped down in his seat and ordered a root beer float and a jalapeño cheesesteak. He closed his eyes. Just for a minute.
Someone tapped his elbow.
Lando jumped. It was a cop. His heart hit the roof of his mouth. They found me.
“Is this yours, sir?” the cop asked, pointing to a newspaper on Lando’s table.
Lando swallowed and sat up straight. “No, no, go ahead.”
The cop took a seat at the next table over, right next to Lando. He’s looking at me, isn’t he? Lando looked at him out of the corner of his eye.
Lando’s food arrived. That’s great. Killed my appetite. He forced down a bite of the cheesesteak and a gulp of the rich, candy-scented float. They don’t even taste good.
A mother dragged her screaming child into the shop. “You’re going to eat and that’s it!” she yelled. She smacked him on the bottom before ordering food for the pair.
Lando scowled at the mother. He unfolded his tablet and brought up the agorist job listings. Slim pickings. He scanned listings for pirate restaurant dishwashers, torrent uploaders, marijuana delivery people, organic farm hands and daycare. None of this is going to pay well! He let the tablet drop on the hard plastic table.
The cop looked over at him.
Lando smiled and shrugged.
The child’s food arrived but he refused to eat it.
“Eat!” his mother yelled. She smacked him across the face and the boy screamed.
Lando growled and looked at the cop.
The cop didn’t move.
Can’t give up yet. This Core thing could turn out to be a joke. He picked the tablet up again. Here’s one. Pharmaceutical manufacture. Strict safety environment. Intense workplace. Variable risk profile. Full-time. $1,500 per hour to start. “Wow,” Lando mouthed.
Lando scheduled an interview for 3 PM at Malcolm X Park in West Philly. He paid for his half-eaten food and made his way out of the shop.
The child knocked his sippy cup to the floor. Lando smiled, reached down to pick it up for him and placed it back on the table. The boy smiled at him.
“Look at what you did, Billy! You soiled that man’s shoes!” the mother yelled.
“My shoes are f—“ Lando started.
The mother wound up to smack the boy again.
Lando caught her arm.
The woman jumped. “How dare you!” she yelled. “Mind your own business!” She stood up. “Officer, officer, this man assaulted me!”
Lando shot a glance at the cop before walking out of the shop. He opened his mouth. Lando took off running.
New Episodes Daily
You're getting 1-4 new episodes 5 days per week here on Steemit. You can expect to not only be entertained by a fast-paced story but also inspired to think more deeply about your future.
Want to connect? Twitter's good: @GeorgeDonnelly
Don't miss an episode. Get a brief email every time I publish new content on Steemit. Enter your primary email address here. Zero spam. An instant unsubscribe link is in every list email.