It was tricky because, technically, it was illegal to sleep on the streets. But the Pods didn’t open again until seven in the morning—even then, you couldn’t get in. That’s when the people who had stayed overnight got forced out to leave for their government-assigned job. If you had a day off from work or didn’t have a job due to being elderly, you had to spend your day in one of the city’s parks, museums, libraries, or the Everett Center. After the Pods were closed, crews came and cleaned the communal sleeping, showering, and eating areas. People could return between noon and two in the afternoon to get a midday serving of a government-administered nutrition biscuit. If your job was too far from the Pod to go and get your lunch, the work facility had a government-ran luncheon room that provided your biscuit. Besides that, a biscuit at breakfast and dinner were the only food ever received; water was the only thing to drink. However, it wasn’t quite the well-oiled system the government claimed it was, Quinn figured. One of the problems was when you got to a Pod; it could already be full for the night. She knew this rarely happened as most people selected a Pod closest to their work and always stayed at that particular one for ease and a sense of routine. But if you went to visit family in another part of the country, or when groups of workers got reassigned, it could happen.
As Quinn passed the stationed Security Patrol outside the Pod, she had to admit everything was always spotless and sterile, very industrial. Nobody had anything different than what anyone else had. At least that was true for those who were able to stay in a Class One Pod. The Pods meant for Class Two or Three citizens were not as nice. At the other end of that spectrum were the Pods exclusively HE Citizens. She was sure those were plusher and comfortable, but she’d never been in one.
As disturbing as the Pods could be, Quinn had to admit they were the only place you could get some food, a shower, and a place to sleep. Personal homes, buildings, and businesses no longer existed as part of the new American order. Naturally, there were still jobs, and the expectation was that each person in the country would do their part. Farmers grew wheat, corn, and a variety of other vegetables for the nutrition biscuits. Factories created biscuits, and there were people needed to repair transport vehicles and Drone Scanners. Droves of people had to clean, sanitize, and keep the Pods running smoothly; there was no end to the work. Upper-class jobs were still available, of course, the government and those who worked at the President Everett Center and President Everett Museum; they had administrators, curators, and tour guides. Doctors and nurses were needed to keep the public up-to-date on inoculations and wellness checks. Business people still made deals, maybe not stock trading or selling anything, but creating computers, music equipment for the classrooms, and everything in between. Then they ran the logistics to get them from one place to another. Quinn knew less about that. She had left before she ever had a job assignment. So, she was aware these things existed, but she didn’t have an in-depth knowledge of it.
One thing Quinn did know about was the Pods. She had spent many evenings in them, and she found herself now making her way toward a building that was labeled “Government Pod CA-03-1.” A simple enough system, the “CA” meant it was located in the state formerly known as California, the “03” indicated that it was the third one to be built there, and the “1” was to designate that this Pod was only meant for a Class One Citizen. She said a silent wish she could get in with no problems.
August 18, 2056 – Davis
Davis exited the transport bus and walked home to the Pod she went to every day after work. Suddenly, she felt herself starting to rise in the air and becoming immobilized by a soft blue beam of light. Nothing to worry about, she thought as the pale blue light beam surrounded her. Relaxing was easy, just floating in the hazy glow. In reality, it was quite pretty, thought Davis. It was no trouble clearing her mind and thinking of nothing. She knew she had nothing to fear as the Drone Scanner checked her. As it lowered her and the blue light turned to green, indicating she could go, she heard the alarms go off a few feet away and saw a man caught in red light. Oh, no, someone didn’t pass scanning, she thought with concern. Well, she felt matter-of-factly, we have ways to take care of that, and he’ll be better off for it in the end.
She smoothed down her simple brown tunic that went down to mid-thigh when she saw a patch of dust on the jodhpurs underneath. A simple but comfortable outfit, she thought. And she took pride in the jodhpurs she wore. Only workers of the Everett Center could wear those. She didn’t like them getting dusty, though, and
