Pipe Dreams Read Online Free

Caucasian
    Sex: Female
    Age: 25
    Marital Status:   Ineligible
    Assignment: Sorter.
    Length of service: One year.
    Prior: Administrative assistant
     
    A list of questionable activities filled the dossier. Ms. Kovalic had been anti-social and did not attend approved recreational activities. He didn’t blame her for that. At best they were lame. At worst, they were mind-numbing propaganda. He avoided them, too. Skipping ahead, Ramirez looked for the cause of the investigation. On the second page, he found it. Recently, Ms. Kovalic had awarded food allotments to two injured individuals without reassignment, frequented a residence not her own, and had been seen interacting with the Fallen.
    He unclipped the picture from the file jacket. Not surprisingly, Kovalic was a beautiful woman. That explained the administrative assistant job. Slipping the CD that accompanied the report out of its sleeve, he popped it into his computer. A black and white recording showed Kovalic squatting in front of a bench in Union Park, then leaving. A few minutes later a tall, black man reached under the seat and pulled out a young, white girl. The girl was naked and bruised.
    Disgusted, Ramirez let the video run through twice before putting the disc back in the file. The report revealed nothing of merit. A good looking woman had a friend, compassion, and balls. What kind of crime was that? He looked at the photo again. Someone was after the woman, but he would never be allowed to find out who. Those kinds of answers were above his pay grade. Instead, he was expected to confirm she had fallen. Based on the paltry bit of evidence in the file, he didn’t think she had, but then who knew?
    He glanced at the clock above the door. If he was going to talk with Kovalic ’s friend, he needed to get going. Picking up his notepad, he stepped into the bright hallway and grabbed a set of car keys. Watchers weren’t required to walk the inner-city after dark.
    It was quiet in the cruiser. The rebellion had silenced all forms of communication, including the radio chatter that use to fill the dead hours. The streets were empty. People no longer went out at night. Nightclubs, movie theaters, and restaurants were a thing of the past. Now, shopfront windows were boarded with gray painted plywood. On every block, huge red and white banners proclaimed the NSO slogan, “Where there is no need, there is no greed” in large, block letters.
    Ramirez missed the energy, but he didn ’t miss the traffic. In minutes he sped past the unmanned guard shack and into the inner-city. In the early years, the Zone had been rigorously protected. Then, after the retaliatory purges, it wasn’t. Those violent attacks had cemented the new order and few dared defy the mandates.
    The absence of light outside the Zone clearly delineated the flimsy border. Here, most buildings were without electricity and only a few windows glowed where the last of the older, single adults still resided. There were no street lamps. As his headlights cut a swath through the menacing twilight, Ramirez fingered the forbidden cross hidden under his shirt and uttered a prayer.
    At the Brownstone, he entered the vestibule and climbed the stairs to the second floor landing, where light was clearly visible beneath a closed door. When he knocked, Isaac Cohen opened it instantly. A warm smile creased the old man ’s wrinkled face and his watery eyes twinkled as he beckoned Ramirez inside.
    Ramirez hesitated. Watchers were usually greeted with fear and suspicion.  Peering into the room beyond, he frowned. The loneliness of old age was evident everywhere – faded photographs adorned the walls, knickknacks covered dusty shelves, and the air was thick and cloying. Isaac ignored his confusion and reached out a hand.
    “Come in, come in,” he urged.
    “Thank you, Sir. I just have a few questions,”
    “Only a few? Could you not make some up just to stay a little longer?  I don ’t get many visitors these