Gay nifty authoritarian
I noted that Mike had made a few notes in the margins. That was the most important factor in determining how much they would sell for, for at the expiration of the sentence the asset had to be set free, with no residual value. Each one showed a photograph of the asset (as the prisoners were euphemistically called), followed by a physical description and a summary of the criminal record and the length of the current sentence. I needed the assistance now, and was grateful for it. I knew the favors would need to be returned one day, but that was in the future. He was always quick to offer advice, or to lend him a hand. I appreciate this.” Mike was a good friend. We were flying across some long and flat landscape. So now we were on our way to the market, and I was rather anxious to be at my shopping. So, buying an Asset would mean dipping into the cash reserves I had from selling my house in town, but it meant a better shot at making a go of the farm, so I decided to go for it.
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So an Asset might not be a bad idea commercially, but still… I guess the notion that finally pushed me over was that I wasn’t buying a human being - just his labor. There was not much profit coming from the farm, certainly not enough to pay out wages. Initially, I resisted the idea somehow the idea of owning other people didn’t set well. My friend and neighbor, Mike, advised me to get some assistance, particularly with an Asset Auction coming up soon. I worked a lot of long and hard hours at it, with little time for socializing or the finer joys of life.
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Now, I was a town boy at heart, but was attempting to make something out of the dilapidated mess that had been left to me as my inheritance. I had inherited a small farm from my uncle, who died an alcoholic death after letting the farm deteriorate almost into ruin. I was trying my hand at what few small operators ever make a living at: farming.
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I was only about thirty-one or two or so, at the time. In the larger towns, it was done quarterly, in the smaller ones, once a year. Within a few years every town of any size received an allocation of criminals to disperse. There was some initial resistance to the new system, mainly from those who were concerned that criminals would be back out on the streets again, but once the pilot scheme established that the citizens would be safe, and the offenders would actually be worse off, it was difficult to find an objecting voice.Īt first, the prisoners were auctioned in the cities, but a cry from the country, stressing the need for cheap farm labor, meant that they system was soon extended to the smaller settlements. It was a double bonus for the government, fewer prisoners meant lower running costs for the state, and the Department of Correction actually made a profit out of selling the unfortunate offenders off. With the exception of a few particularly uncontrollable recidivists, second and subsequent offenders were sold off to the highest bidder, to work off their sentences. Now, the prisons held mostly first offenders. These markets had been held for more than a decade now, and first came about when the government decided that there were too many prisoners in the nation's jails, that they were costing too much to maintain, and were producing nothing of value for society. Today’s was a special market that occurred only once a year. It was market day, but not the normal kind of market day that came around once a month. If I did, it would only be to make it better. Had I known ahead of time, I don’t know that I would have changed any of the events that followed that day. I didn’t realize it at the time of course. It was the beginning of a whole new way of life for me. He waited while I belted myself into the couch, and then turned the vehicle towards town.
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"Not a problem, glad to help out" replied Mike the driver. "Thanks for the lift" I exclaimed as I climbed into the cabin of the waiting hovercraft. Mild editing was done to the original story (part I) to make it consistent and flow into part II. Revised and expanded to reflect a fantasy based on this story. Originally by “Anonymous” Revisited by Krister