GWOT V - A State Of Desperation - Regroup
Jul. 19th, 2022 10:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
drewkittyGWOT V - A State Of Desperation - Regroup
I looked at Hospice #4. My camera operator and guard looked at me.
We shook our heads. It was time to punt.
A pedicab took us to one of the hospital's transit centers. We selected a free bus that would take us to the tourist district.
The transit system was rather ... European. I noticed however the relative absence of cars. Not just within the hospital complex, but in the entire city.
Part of this was explained when the bus drove past a petrol station that displayed prices. In the double digits. Per liter.
I did some quick math. About four times the cost of gasoline in post-Firecracker London.
There were scooters and motorcycles. But they were ridden by the wealthy, not the working poor.
The gasoline station _only_ sold gasoline. The one attendant visible, wearing a reflective safety vest, was openly wearing a handgun.
The bus trundled on. I wondered how a free bus system could function with fuel so expensive.
The bus arrived at our stop. Most of the people who got off with us were workers - restaurant workers and hotel workers.
The hotel was a brief walk.
Just as we arrived at the door ... the power went out. Not just the hotel, the entire area.
The doormen (not all men, actually) had flashlights at the ready. The hotel generator hesitated then kicked in; we could hear it throbbing somewhere to the side of the building.
The elevator was not working, of course. So we walked four flights up and convened in my room.
The lights worked. The air conditioner did not work. The Internet ... worked.
The camera operator started going through his images. The guard started looking at maps, trying to plan our next foray. Then he logged into the California firearms Web site. Legal homework, for permission to carry a firearm.
I started with the maps. But they were ... inadequate. There were no street views. They were lines on maps, like paper maps of forty years ago. Not many buildings labeled.
Then I started searching for services.
Grocery. Everyone needs to eat.
I kept finding all sorts of places that sold food. But I also noticed I was getting pop-up ads.
"CAL FRESH? Did you know?"
I didn't know. So I clicked. The site tried to sign me up, on the spot, for 'benefits.' Free food aid.
A lot of free in this California. But I knew, as any Londoner can't help but know, that anything free came with a lot of costs.
The camera operator cursed as he came back from the hotel bathroom.
"Sink doesn't work. And I already flushed."
That was unfortunate.
Now I was curious to see how Redding got its power. There was a city power cooperative. There were a lot of private electrical companies. Many advertised that they installed and serviced generators and that they serviced battery packs and solar systems.
But they didn't _sell_ battery packs or solar systems.
I picked up the hotel phone and called a few. Asking how I would get a solar system installed.
Three said they didn't do that kind of work. The fourth said they could do a site survey but that panels would be very costly. The fifth laughed and hung up.
I tried to remember the logo on the gas station. It wasn't a pre-War fuel company. A little searching showed me the logo. A dancing circus bear standing on top of a rainbow colored beach ball.
"Bear Fuels" turned out to be a government monopoly. A handy disclosure broke down the cost of a liter of gasoline.
$5.22 for the oil
$1.73 for refining
$2.13 for transportation, Richmond - Redding (which I selected from a chart)
$0.78 for road tax ... and an additional $0.56 per wheel for roadway maintenance tax, chargeable per wheel
$0.13 for pollution control tax
$1.14 for value added petroleum tax
Plus state and local sales tax.
No wonder cars were rare. A motorcycle would pay over a dollar less per liter just because it had two wheels and not four.
I wondered what the hotel generator was costing the hotel, just to keep the lights and phones and Internet on during the power outage.
"Water's back on. Just a trickle though."
We knew this story. Intermittent power affecting the city pumps. Part of any traveler's stay in a developing country.
Come to think of it, the hydrant at the fire training site had a shack next to it labeled "Fire Pump Room." So it had its own fire pump, likely Diesel.
It was time and past time for lunch. So I called room service.
"We're very sorry, but we can only offer sandwiches and chips for the moment."
The kitchen apparently switches to cold food mode when power is out. With no power to the hotel fire pumps, I was comforted rather than frustrated.
"Do you know when power will be restored?"
"No idea," the kitchen operator apologized profusely.
Soon our sandwiches arrived. The only curiosity - more meat than cheese, and not much of either. Lots of lettuce, sprouts, tomatoes. Even nice large dill pickles.
We ate. My guard finished his click through.
"One thing. They have a crime called Armed Criminal Action. If you commit a crime while carrying a firearm, it's a much more serious offense than if you are unarmed. By a lot. If you point a firearm at someone, without a good reason like self defense, it's Assault With A Deadly Weapon. If you fire a shot, it's Attempted Murder.
"But if you fire shots while committing a crime, even if you don't intend to hurt anyone, it's not just Attempted Murder. It's a Murderous Breach Of The Peace and the minimum sentence is 10 years at hard labor. If you stab someone, you could get five to ten. But if you shoot at someone, you start at ten and work your way up real quick."
In the United Kingdom, any use of a firearm for any reason was a crime, unless you had proper authority as a peace officer.
"California says right here that this is a 'Stand Your Ground' state."
A barbarous throwback where a person threatened needs not leave and try to avoid the criminal, but can actively seek out a confrontation without penalty.
"That sounds more like Texas," I volunteered.
"Oh, there's a comparison to Texas here. They talk about 'peaceable journey,' or the idea that if you are traveling you can travel with a concealed gun without a permit. For example, on a bus."
Now I wondered how many of the people around us all day had been 'peaceable' and had guns.
"Then why did they make you get a permit?"
"So I can carry anywhere but ... let's see ... on the grounds of a prison, in the secure areas of a justice building, within the non-public areas of a military base. Wait, I can carry a firearm to _court_ as long as I am not an involved party in the litigation? I could have worn a firearm on the _plane_ from Oregon?!?"
"I wonder. Do they make guns expensive? Ammo?"
Now I looked for firearms dealers.
There were some. Many more who repaired or manufactured firearms.
Ammunition?
"Bear Arms" sold ammunition at cost. Another government business. But there were many others as well, and some mention of reloading and custom manufactures.
I looked a little more at Bear Arms.
They only sold four models of firearm.
A generic semi-automatic pistol. A light target rifle, barely more than a toy. A heavy hunting rifle. A break-open double-barreled shotgun.
But I couldn't find a price for any of the four. It assumed that I knew.
My guard was examining carefully his unloaded handgun.
"This is a Bear Arms pistol. Looks like it's striker-fired on a polymer frame with a metal barrel. A generic gun."
"What did they charge you?"
"Nothing. He just gave it to me."
"Just like that?"
"I had to sign for it with the serial number and agree that it would report its loss or theft at once to the authorities. Came with ammunition and a gun lock and a pamphlet."
He handed me the pamphlet.
"The state of California congratulates you on your first handgun. We are pleased to present you with it as a free gift..."
What? What?
I called the hotel concierge and asked that some newspapers be brought up. I tipped lavishly.
I looked for the crime logs.
There weren't many. The ones I thought I knew, I didn't. "Drifthood, punished by a $100 fine and trespass from the city. Brandishing A Firearm, referred to Psyche, ordered to safekeep all but one firearm. Vagabondery, second offense, referred to the Employment Court. Practicing medicine without a license, dismissed without prejudice. Improper food handling, eighty hours community service and loss of food handling license for one month."
Then I read through the articles looking for articles about crimes.
There weren't any such articles. Except one that wrote about a mass murder in town the previous week, in which four people were murdered. The four were named, people shared their memories of them.
On the second page, it briefly stated "Some Asshole was shot repeatedly on scene and died of his injuries at Northern Medical City, unmourned." The article continued to talk about the virtues of the woman who had carried a Bear Arms pistol in her purse - without a permit - and shot him. A collection was being taken up to honor her.
Confused, I turned to the advertisements.
There were no job ads.
There were no housing ads.
There were a handful of government business ads. "Bear Arms." "Bear Fuels." "Bear Foods." But they were what a marketer calls 'presence ads.' They assumed you knew what was being sold and for how much.
"Bear Arms: For Your Family."
"Bear Fuels Move You"
"Rub Your Tummy: Bear Foods"
There were a bunch of Doing Business Ads. They listed a name, an address, and a fictitious business name. "Samuel Singh, of 2022 Keyes Court, as Merkala Food Importers. Debts secured by Wells Fargo California, unaffiliated with Wells Fargo N.A."
No ads for lawyers.
One strange ad.
"It's Time. Time and Past Time. Scratchers!" It showed a bear using a back scratcher and money pouring from the bear's back. Well, backside.
I showed it to my guard.
"I saw a bunch of those. It's a lottery. Supports the public schools. Scratch off numbers on a slip."
The power came back on, the air conditioner shuddered to a start.
The guard called the concierge. Gave him some cash. Passed out multi-colored plastic cards and a coin to each of us.
"Here we go. Maybe our lucky day?"
I looked at Hospice #4. My camera operator and guard looked at me.
We shook our heads. It was time to punt.
A pedicab took us to one of the hospital's transit centers. We selected a free bus that would take us to the tourist district.
The transit system was rather ... European. I noticed however the relative absence of cars. Not just within the hospital complex, but in the entire city.
Part of this was explained when the bus drove past a petrol station that displayed prices. In the double digits. Per liter.
I did some quick math. About four times the cost of gasoline in post-Firecracker London.
There were scooters and motorcycles. But they were ridden by the wealthy, not the working poor.
The gasoline station _only_ sold gasoline. The one attendant visible, wearing a reflective safety vest, was openly wearing a handgun.
The bus trundled on. I wondered how a free bus system could function with fuel so expensive.
The bus arrived at our stop. Most of the people who got off with us were workers - restaurant workers and hotel workers.
The hotel was a brief walk.
Just as we arrived at the door ... the power went out. Not just the hotel, the entire area.
The doormen (not all men, actually) had flashlights at the ready. The hotel generator hesitated then kicked in; we could hear it throbbing somewhere to the side of the building.
The elevator was not working, of course. So we walked four flights up and convened in my room.
The lights worked. The air conditioner did not work. The Internet ... worked.
The camera operator started going through his images. The guard started looking at maps, trying to plan our next foray. Then he logged into the California firearms Web site. Legal homework, for permission to carry a firearm.
I started with the maps. But they were ... inadequate. There were no street views. They were lines on maps, like paper maps of forty years ago. Not many buildings labeled.
Then I started searching for services.
Grocery. Everyone needs to eat.
I kept finding all sorts of places that sold food. But I also noticed I was getting pop-up ads.
"CAL FRESH? Did you know?"
I didn't know. So I clicked. The site tried to sign me up, on the spot, for 'benefits.' Free food aid.
A lot of free in this California. But I knew, as any Londoner can't help but know, that anything free came with a lot of costs.
The camera operator cursed as he came back from the hotel bathroom.
"Sink doesn't work. And I already flushed."
That was unfortunate.
Now I was curious to see how Redding got its power. There was a city power cooperative. There were a lot of private electrical companies. Many advertised that they installed and serviced generators and that they serviced battery packs and solar systems.
But they didn't _sell_ battery packs or solar systems.
I picked up the hotel phone and called a few. Asking how I would get a solar system installed.
Three said they didn't do that kind of work. The fourth said they could do a site survey but that panels would be very costly. The fifth laughed and hung up.
I tried to remember the logo on the gas station. It wasn't a pre-War fuel company. A little searching showed me the logo. A dancing circus bear standing on top of a rainbow colored beach ball.
"Bear Fuels" turned out to be a government monopoly. A handy disclosure broke down the cost of a liter of gasoline.
$5.22 for the oil
$1.73 for refining
$2.13 for transportation, Richmond - Redding (which I selected from a chart)
$0.78 for road tax ... and an additional $0.56 per wheel for roadway maintenance tax, chargeable per wheel
$0.13 for pollution control tax
$1.14 for value added petroleum tax
Plus state and local sales tax.
No wonder cars were rare. A motorcycle would pay over a dollar less per liter just because it had two wheels and not four.
I wondered what the hotel generator was costing the hotel, just to keep the lights and phones and Internet on during the power outage.
"Water's back on. Just a trickle though."
We knew this story. Intermittent power affecting the city pumps. Part of any traveler's stay in a developing country.
Come to think of it, the hydrant at the fire training site had a shack next to it labeled "Fire Pump Room." So it had its own fire pump, likely Diesel.
It was time and past time for lunch. So I called room service.
"We're very sorry, but we can only offer sandwiches and chips for the moment."
The kitchen apparently switches to cold food mode when power is out. With no power to the hotel fire pumps, I was comforted rather than frustrated.
"Do you know when power will be restored?"
"No idea," the kitchen operator apologized profusely.
Soon our sandwiches arrived. The only curiosity - more meat than cheese, and not much of either. Lots of lettuce, sprouts, tomatoes. Even nice large dill pickles.
We ate. My guard finished his click through.
"One thing. They have a crime called Armed Criminal Action. If you commit a crime while carrying a firearm, it's a much more serious offense than if you are unarmed. By a lot. If you point a firearm at someone, without a good reason like self defense, it's Assault With A Deadly Weapon. If you fire a shot, it's Attempted Murder.
"But if you fire shots while committing a crime, even if you don't intend to hurt anyone, it's not just Attempted Murder. It's a Murderous Breach Of The Peace and the minimum sentence is 10 years at hard labor. If you stab someone, you could get five to ten. But if you shoot at someone, you start at ten and work your way up real quick."
In the United Kingdom, any use of a firearm for any reason was a crime, unless you had proper authority as a peace officer.
"California says right here that this is a 'Stand Your Ground' state."
A barbarous throwback where a person threatened needs not leave and try to avoid the criminal, but can actively seek out a confrontation without penalty.
"That sounds more like Texas," I volunteered.
"Oh, there's a comparison to Texas here. They talk about 'peaceable journey,' or the idea that if you are traveling you can travel with a concealed gun without a permit. For example, on a bus."
Now I wondered how many of the people around us all day had been 'peaceable' and had guns.
"Then why did they make you get a permit?"
"So I can carry anywhere but ... let's see ... on the grounds of a prison, in the secure areas of a justice building, within the non-public areas of a military base. Wait, I can carry a firearm to _court_ as long as I am not an involved party in the litigation? I could have worn a firearm on the _plane_ from Oregon?!?"
"I wonder. Do they make guns expensive? Ammo?"
Now I looked for firearms dealers.
There were some. Many more who repaired or manufactured firearms.
Ammunition?
"Bear Arms" sold ammunition at cost. Another government business. But there were many others as well, and some mention of reloading and custom manufactures.
I looked a little more at Bear Arms.
They only sold four models of firearm.
A generic semi-automatic pistol. A light target rifle, barely more than a toy. A heavy hunting rifle. A break-open double-barreled shotgun.
But I couldn't find a price for any of the four. It assumed that I knew.
My guard was examining carefully his unloaded handgun.
"This is a Bear Arms pistol. Looks like it's striker-fired on a polymer frame with a metal barrel. A generic gun."
"What did they charge you?"
"Nothing. He just gave it to me."
"Just like that?"
"I had to sign for it with the serial number and agree that it would report its loss or theft at once to the authorities. Came with ammunition and a gun lock and a pamphlet."
He handed me the pamphlet.
"The state of California congratulates you on your first handgun. We are pleased to present you with it as a free gift..."
What? What?
I called the hotel concierge and asked that some newspapers be brought up. I tipped lavishly.
I looked for the crime logs.
There weren't many. The ones I thought I knew, I didn't. "Drifthood, punished by a $100 fine and trespass from the city. Brandishing A Firearm, referred to Psyche, ordered to safekeep all but one firearm. Vagabondery, second offense, referred to the Employment Court. Practicing medicine without a license, dismissed without prejudice. Improper food handling, eighty hours community service and loss of food handling license for one month."
Then I read through the articles looking for articles about crimes.
There weren't any such articles. Except one that wrote about a mass murder in town the previous week, in which four people were murdered. The four were named, people shared their memories of them.
On the second page, it briefly stated "Some Asshole was shot repeatedly on scene and died of his injuries at Northern Medical City, unmourned." The article continued to talk about the virtues of the woman who had carried a Bear Arms pistol in her purse - without a permit - and shot him. A collection was being taken up to honor her.
Confused, I turned to the advertisements.
There were no job ads.
There were no housing ads.
There were a handful of government business ads. "Bear Arms." "Bear Fuels." "Bear Foods." But they were what a marketer calls 'presence ads.' They assumed you knew what was being sold and for how much.
"Bear Arms: For Your Family."
"Bear Fuels Move You"
"Rub Your Tummy: Bear Foods"
There were a bunch of Doing Business Ads. They listed a name, an address, and a fictitious business name. "Samuel Singh, of 2022 Keyes Court, as Merkala Food Importers. Debts secured by Wells Fargo California, unaffiliated with Wells Fargo N.A."
No ads for lawyers.
One strange ad.
"It's Time. Time and Past Time. Scratchers!" It showed a bear using a back scratcher and money pouring from the bear's back. Well, backside.
I showed it to my guard.
"I saw a bunch of those. It's a lottery. Supports the public schools. Scratch off numbers on a slip."
The power came back on, the air conditioner shuddered to a start.
The guard called the concierge. Gave him some cash. Passed out multi-colored plastic cards and a coin to each of us.
"Here we go. Maybe our lucky day?"
