Story Excerpt: The Inspector

Scott was shaken from his bed; his dream told him it was a glacier with wild winds howling laughter, and when he opened his eyes, shivering, he saw his wife, Laurie, had pulled the heat switch off. She stood there glaring. Today her hair was a lovely purple with a fashionable streak of gold starting from the forehead, but it didn’t help the cold look on her face.

“Get up, you loser,” she said in her sweet contralto. “Go out and earn some credits or I’ll certify you.”

The thought of being transferred by the Economy Agent to Assigned Duty Status, with its virtual imprisonment to monotony by the Welfare Office, made Scott reach for his readers, placing them over the bridge of his nose.

“My darling,” he said placatingly, “You are as beautiful as I am undeserving of you!”

“You’re damn right about that,” said Laurie with bitterness. “When I think of the men I could have married, the wonderful life I might have lived, instead of scrimping along with a no-good freelance inspector like you….”

“Sometimes I do pretty well. Three years ago, I sent you to Spruce-cadia for a month, remember?”

“Three years ago. Big deal.”

She flounced out of the room. Sadly, Scott went to the closet and examined the various uniforms and disguises that were part of his equipment as a freelance Inspector. As he selected the silver and black skintight suit of a Climate Change Examiner, he wistfully remembered how nice it had been when Laurie had smiled at him. Immediately a flood of determination filled him to go out and do big things today. Maybe he would make a big strike and get a nice fat commission; then Laurie would….

His readers buzzed, flickered, and the genial face of Aria Jamison from Marriage Relations appeared.

“Good morning, Inspector Scott,” she said, smiling. “And how are things ‘twixt you and your beloved?”

“Rough,” moaned Scott. “She’s really in a foul mood today.”

Aria beamed. “Oh, I am so glad to hear it.”

“Huh?” said Scott.

“Her sadism index rating went up five points,” she explained. “I got the alert right away! I wanted to make sure there wasn’t a sensor error. Well, that certainly is good news for you two. I’ll guess you’ll both be all right now.”

“All right? Are you kidding?”

“Now, now, we know what’s best for you. Your masochism index rating is quite high, you know. Laurie is just what you need. Jesus, you two were made for each other.”

Suddenly the woman stopped talking, gasped, and the screen flickered and went dead. Scott’s astonishment was wiped away by the soft, silvery bell tone of his Hollywood Protection Act app. As Scott glanced to the top of the augmented reality view his readers provided, he saw there was a message for him, activated by an infringement: “Violation P-203”.

Trembling, Scott expanded the alert with a flick of his fingers and a voice chirped animatedly from the bone conduction speakers within the readers’ frames, detailing of the violation.

“Violation P-203: At eight-eleven A.M., Freelance Inspector Scott Walsh picked up a violation of copyright on the phrase ‘were made for each other.’ This phrase is property registered under the Hollywood Protection Act, Copyright of Verbal Phrases Addendum of 2046. Owners, WD&A Studios. Fee for use eighty dollars per listener, commission fifty percent.”

The voice ended and the HPA app provided a menu of options, with “Collect and Remit Total Fee” prominently at the top.

As Scott uttered a yelp of delight, Laurie came running into the room.

“The CPA app went off!” crowed Scott. “Now aren’t you proud of me? I was smart enough to leave the app monitoring on all firehose feeds last night. We picked up a verbal copyright violation….”

“You left it on all night?” screeched Laurie, her joy fading. “Your leasing charge is ten dollars an hour, isn’t it? What’s your commission on this violation?”

“Forty dollars. Haha, I—I guess I’m losing money, b-but….”

“And this was a verbal violation? As in, you heard it over a call or recording? As in, no need for app traffic monitoring at all?”

“Uh, well, yes.”

Laurie gave him her opinion of his supposed shrewdness and left the room again.

Scott tapped his readers and called up his Marriage Relations representative. He shrank back in alarm as the woman’s glaring face appeared.

“Sorry to do this to you,” said Scott meekly, “but it’s my job, you know. Got you on a verbal for using ‘were made for each other.’ That phrase is owned by—”

“You Goddamn spy!” she yelled on screen. “I’ll bet you would inform on your own grandmother for a percentage.”

“I….” Scott feebly started to protest.

“It’s a hell of a thing,” she continued, “when someone can’t even use words to express herself without paying….”

Per training, when dealing with sensitive violators, Scott added made a few gestures the reader identified. One half the screen blanked. The image of the Marriage Relations representative moved to the right and the heavyset profile picture of Scott’s supervisor, Randolph, flared onto the left half. “What is it, Scott?”

“I have a complaint on policy and purpose of the HPZ, Randolph,” said Scott nervously. “Would you please handle it? I’ll switch you.”

“Sure,” said Randolph. Instantly all three could see each other on their respective viewers. “Did you have a complaint, ma’am?” asked Randolph.

“I don’t know who the devil you are,” shouted Aria, “but I assume you’re one of those pirates cashing in on that Hollywood Protection Act fraud. That new law has gone much too far. First it was job protection guarantees, then independent studio regulation, then content creator sanctions, and now copyrighting spoken words? Copyrighting a work of skill or artistic expression is okay, I suppose, but to extend it to everyday speech, to verbal phrases—”