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Weapon of Mass Distraction [MultiFormat]
eBook by Richard A. Lovett
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eBook Category: Science Fiction
eBook Description: Science Fiction. In a near-future America, the government has gotten serious about screening for terrorists. Computers seek patterns in spending, travel, book purchases, and anything else than can find, in order to spot future terrorists before they strike. Then, botanist Herbert Dappelmeyer can't board a train. And that's just the beginning. Funny, prophetic, and cautionary in equal measures, this story has appealed to readers on both sides of the liberal/conservative ideological divide.
eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: Analog, 2004
Fictionwise Release Date: May 2006
Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [213 KB], eReader (PDB) [36 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [24 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [22 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [81 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [94 KB], hiebook (KML) [107 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [52 KB], iSilo (PDB) [20 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [25 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [52 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [35 KB]
Words: 6725
Reading time: 19-26 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
 
"[E]xtrapolates Patriot Act-like anti-terrorist measures to extremes, making a point about the real consequences--and one beneficiary--of such invasions of privacy."--Rich Horton, Locus
"Those of us on the political left are well-acquainted with the phrase Lovett adopts for his title here. You can't listen to NPR very long without hearing some activist or pundit calling the mainstream media or the actions of the Bush administration 'Weapons of Mass Distraction.' Lovett puts a slightly different spin on the concept, but his purpose is delightfully satirical, and many ways, more to the point. We begin about 20 minutes into the future, with color-coded security flags placed on the records of 'suspicious' persons. If you have the misfortune to be so tagged, your life becomes a living hell of bureaucracy, false arrest, and restricted rights.... [I]n a world where British Air flights are routinely cancelled based on 'intel chatter' and the suspects hauled off airplanes as suspected terrorists turn out to be five year old children, this is not so wild a fancy as one would hope."--Bluejack
Herbert Dappelmeyer was the first victim.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Dappelmeyer, but I can't sell you a ticket for that train," the clerk said. Her demeanor was normal but her knees were trembling so much it took two tries to find the toe switch for the silent alarm. Her name was Ginny and in six months on the job, she'd never before been afraid of a customer. But then Herbert was her first Red.
Herbert didn't notice. Not that this was surprising. He never noticed much of anything that wasn't going on inside his own head. "That's okay," he said. "I'm in no hurry." He'd been mentally rehearsing a lecture he'd be giving in a few days, about the evolutionary biology of desert wildflowers, and he really didn't care whether he continued the process on the train or waiting in the station. "Can you find me a seat on the next one?" He paused. Something else she'd said had finally filtered through the game theory of desert ephemerals. "Do I know you?"
In any other context, Ginny would have laughed and given one of a dozen ready responses to Herbert's accidental use of this, the oldest pickup line in the book. But with her ticketing screen flashing his name at her in big red letters, footnoted with urgent advice to call Security immediately, it was all she could do to keep from panic. This man's a terrorist, she thought. He'd kill me as easily as he'd swat a fly. Actually, Herbert was a gentle soul who was nearly as fascinated by insects as by plants, but Ginny didn't know this, and the blinking letters on her screen could hardly have been more frightening.
Ginny chose to ignore Herbert's second question and answer the first, although in her near panic she forgot even to go through the motions of checking the schedule. "Sorry, that's full too."
Calling him by name had been a serious error. Herbert had proffered cash for the $49 fare, and she'd not yet asked for identification. The only reason she knew his name was that the fast-optics scanners had picked up his fingerprints as he passed the bills across the counter. According to the technician who'd installed them, these scanners and their on-line database could identify virtually anyone from a ten-millisecond snapshot of a single finger. When the scan worked, there really wasn't much need to check IDs, although Ginny had heard of a terrorist who'd been caught because he used a fake ID that didn't match his fingerprints. Normally, though, Ginny viewed the scan simply as a way to improve her customer service. Most people loved being greeted by name--but then most people were law-abiding citizens. Very few were Reds.
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