The Standard

(Originally submitted to the Into the Black short story contest.)

“Yo, Jimbo, wait up!” came a shout from down the office hall.

James slowed his pace, wrestling the frown from his mouth before turning around. “Hey, Mick.”

“You’re in a good mood,” said Mick, catching up to him. “Been smiling all day — you having an affair or something?”

James rolled his eyes. “It’s Ben’s birthday. Not that I have to… justify smiling.”

“Oh. Well, happy birthday to him. Guess my invite got lost or something.”

“It’s just family,” lied James. “Not a big event.”

Mick nodded. “My kids’ birthdays, I’m tearing my hair out. Way too stressful. They always hate whatever I get ’em. My wife, too. Especially her. Definitely not a day for smiles for any of us.”

“Yeah, it’s not always easy,” said James, as they exited the building’s front door into the parking lot. “I mean, Mel’s birthday, forget it. She’s thirteen — ”

“That your wife?” interrupted Mick, eliciting a frown from James. “Sorry, had the question ready to go before you said her age.”

“Ah.”

“So what’s so special about today?”

“Well, last year Ben told us he really wanted an Aspect 6, so this year we scraped together enough to buy a Print License for one.”

“That that video game thing? Virtual… hologram… whatever?”

“Yeah.”

Mick grunted disapprovingly. “Aren’t they just about to release the 7?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. It’s just incremental improvements every year anyway, right?”

Mick shrugged. “Sure, sure. Whew, those things are pretty expensive, how’d you swing that?”

James immediately picked up on Mick’s prying tone and rolled his eyes. “I think you know how. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Ahh,” said Mick, drawing the word out as judgmentally as possible. “Never would’ve expected a guy like you to cave and take the Standard.”

James shook his head. “I heard you refused to take it but I couldn’t believe it. Especially with, what is it, three kids?”

“I can provide for them just fine,” said Mick sourly.

“I can too but that’s not the point, it’s about fixing — ”

“Some of us don’t need handouts!” growled Mick, interrupting him. “We get by on our own, even if it means having to live without fancy toys.”

“It’s not a handout.”

“It’s free money — what else would you call it?”

“It’s more like… a paycheck. We’re collectively paying each other.”

“Then why can’t I just keep whatever I’m putting in?”

“You know that’s not how it works.”

“Yeah, it only works if you take more from the people at the top. So it’s a handout, from them to us.”

“Well, they siphoned all the money out of the economy in the first place!”

“They earned it fair and square!”

“Only because they control the definition of ‘fair’!”

“Why’s your definition any better?”

James breathed a relieved sigh as they finally reached his car.

“Well,” he said, remotely unlocking the door, “this is me.”

Mick nodded, glowering. “Great chatting. Have fun at your kid’s party, hope he enjoys his fancy new toy.”

Guests had already filled the back yard by the time James arrived home from the nearby Macro Print store. His wife Sophia hurried over to meet him as he exited the back porch with Ben’s gift under his arm, her smile inverting with concern as she noticed his expression.

She fished a beer out of the cooler near the foot of the steps and shook the ice-cold water off her hand into the bushes. “Everything okay?” she asked, keeping her voice down.

James held up the package. “Yeah, we’re good to go.”

“I see that. I meant are you okay?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, you just look…” she trailed off and shrugged.

“Oh. Just… a crappy conversation on my way out of the office.”

“Mick?” she asked.

James smiled. “Too predictable.”

He reached to take the beer from her and she pulled it away.

“Oh, you wanted one too?” she asked, smirking.

He tried to frown at her but couldn’t help but smile.

She handed him the beer and took the gift in exchange. “Think he’ll like it?”

“He’s only been talking about it every day for the last twelve months.”

“Really? I started tuning him out after the first three.”

James sipped his beer, resolving not to let the argument with Mick drain the color from the evening.

“…years of his life, I mean,” added Sophia, smiling at him.

He laughed, then looked out at the crowd, locating their children. “I just hope Mel doesn’t get too jealous.”

“She will. But then in a couple months, she’ll have a birthday and Ben will be jealous. That’s how it works, it’s like a clock.” She glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, it’s time to eat.”

*

“Can I open presents?” asked Ben, shifting eagerly from one foot to the other.

James and Sophia looked at each other, then back at Ben.

“Tell you what,” said James, “go see if your grandparents are done eating, and if they are, throw their plates away for them. And then you can open presents.”

“But what if they’re not?” asked Ben.

“You can tell them I said to hurry it up.”

Ben laughed. “Okay.”

“You got him the Aspect?” whispered Mel, after Ben was out of earshot.

James nodded.

Mel rolled her eyes. “Well, I hope you remember what I said I wanted for my birthday.”

“Which time?” asked Sophia. “It’s changed twice just in the last month.”

Mel frowned at her. “No it hasn’t — it’s a running list.”

“Oh-ho,” said James, laughing with mock disbelief.

“I ran the numbers, it all adds up to the same price as what you got him.”

James looked at Sophia. “We’ve created a monster.”

“That’s my girl,” said Sophia proudly, reaching across the table for a high-five.

“Plus,” said Mel, “I know you guys can afford it, now that we’re getting the Standard — “

James quickly shushed her, glancing around to see if anyone overheard.

“What?” asked Mel. “Everyone gets it, it’s not like it’s a big secret.”

“Not everyone,” said James, thinking back to Mick, “and either way, we shouldn’t talk about money stuff in front of people.”

Mel rolled her eyes. “My friends all do. Tom said his dad said that making people ashamed to talk about money was part of why things got so bad in the first place.”

James and Sophia looked at each other again, reading each other’s expressions from concern to concession and finally amusement.

“That’s my girl,” said Sophia again.

A constellation of police lights glistened in the parking lot as James approached his office. Cautiously, he found the closest available spot, then walked toward the building.

“Is everyone okay?” he blurted to the first officer he saw.

“Nobody’s hurt,” the woman replied. “They’ll have answers for you inside.”

“It’s… safe to go in, then?”

She nodded.

James noticed that the makeshift checkpoint in front of the building didn’t appear to be searching anyone going inside, and realized this likely meant layoffs. Part of him almost wished there had been an incident instead, which made him feel terrible.

Inside, police and security guards corralled everyone toward the main presentation room, barring access to any other parts of the building. James spotted Mick arguing with a security guard and quickly rushed past to avoid being spotted.

“I’m allowed to go to my desk,” roared Mick.

“Sir, you’ll be allowed access — “

“I have personal belongings in there! This is theft! If you don’t let me through, you’re committing theft.”

“Sir, if you’ll just proceed to the — “

“No! Not until I’ve retrieved my belongings.”

James sympathized with both men’s frustrations.

*

The company’s CTO finished talking with some others at the corner of the auditorium’s stage, then strode to the podium and waited for the crowd’s murmurs to subside.

“Effective Monday,” said the man, “operations in this building will be shifted to Ammonite’s Deep Learning annex. I am… sorry to say that means this office will be closed.”

Hands launched into the air as the crowd’s noise swelled again, but the CTO gestured for everyone to quiet down.

“We’ll answer all your questions at the end, but if you let me finish, I’ll probably address some of your concerns.” He waited another moment. “Some of you will be transferred to other offices to oversee upcoming closures at those branches. However, most of us will be… parting ways, I’m afraid.”

James sighed, not thrilled with either option.

“Just call it a layoff!” shouted someone from the audience, to a roar of agreement.

The CTO nodded. “The severance packages will be… generous, as we understand this is abrupt.”

As the announcement continued, James pulled his phone out to text Sophia, but couldn’t think of what to say. He slid it back into his pocket and slumped.

*

Hauling his belongings in a cardboard box, James sped up as he passed Mick’s desk, hoping to once again avoid being noticed.

“Jimmer, wait up,” called Mick.

James winced and slowly turned around, giving an awkward nod as they made eye contact.

Mick gestured at James’s box. “Guessing you were also not among the ‘lucky few’.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t want to relocate anyway. Or double my commute.”

“Yeah…” Mick slumped. “Me neither.”

“At least we get a free box,” joked James.

Mick frowned at him for a second, then burst out laughing. “I suppose, huh?”

“Well,” said James, taking a backward step away.

“Hey, Jimmy?”

“Yeah?”

“Gotta be honest, I’m…” Pausing, a series of looks shifted across his face as though he had just discovered the rotten center of an otherwise delicious caramel apple. “Worried.”

Unsettled by the man’s uncomfortable sincerity, James stared down into his box for a moment, then sighed. “Want to grab a burger?”

“You’re not going home?”

“I haven’t figured out how I’m going to tell my family about this just yet. I need some time.”

Mick nodded. “Yeah… me too, now that you mention it.”

*

James guided his car into the scenic viewpoint parking lot, right up to the edge so they could see the lake without having to get out. The two had ridden in total silence, aside from placing their order at the drive-thru — a prolonged peace previously absent from their interactions.

They unwrapped their burgers and ate for a while. Eventually, James turned down the radio.

“I’m worried too,” he said. “But I’m a lot less worried than I would be.”

Mick shook his head, aggressively chewing and swallowing in order to reply. “I can’t do it, Jimmy.”

“Okay, look: we’re all getting replaced by machines, right?”

“I know, I know, I need to support my family. But we’re getting severance, and I can find another job.”

“No, that’s… I mean… yes, but that’s not my point. Who do you think is going to reap the profits from what happened today? Certainly not us, right?”

“No.”

“And the more of us they replace, the fewer and fewer people will benefit. Right?”

Mick shrugged. “Maybe. Who knows. It’s their company.”

“They’re putting us all out of jobs so they can swap us out for computers that work a thousand times cheaper. And nobody’s making new kinds of jobs fast enough to move us all into other roles. Who said they’re allowed to do that without any responsibility to the people they leave behind?”

Mick slumped and took a sip of his soda but didn’t reply.

“And that’s where the money for the Standard comes from,” continued James. “It puts that responsibility in place so that our lives can’t just be freely exchanged for quarterly gains without any consequences.”

Sighing, Mick turned and stared sullenly out the window at a boat in the distance. “I’m still not taking any goddamn handouts.”

“So,” said James, entering their front door at his usual arrival time, “you’ll never guess what happened today.”

“You got laid off?” replied Sophia flatly.

James frowned. “How did you — “

“John’s wife works at your office, he stopped by my cubicle to ask how I was doing. I had to pretend you told me.” She furrowed her brow at him, arms crossed.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah. And so did like seven other people.”

James nodded once, very slowly. “Right.”

“Yeah.”

They regarded each other for a moment, then Sophia burst out laughing.

James slowly set his box down in a chair in the living room. “What’s… so funny?”

“I just like that you thought I wouldn’t find out.”

“Sorry.”

“No, I’m not even mad. I get it, you needed time, I would’ve too. But what’d you think was going to happen?”

“I don’t know.”

Sophia sat down on the couch and patted the cushion next to her. “So what’d you do all day?”

He plopped down beside her. “Okay, this part you’re really never going to — “

“Hung out with Mick?”

He gawked at her. “How did you do that?”

“Well, when you acted so confident that I wouldn’t get it, I just guessed the least-expected thing.”

He nodded. “Fair enough.”

“And what did old Mick have to say? Did he applaud them for their bold entrepreneurial spirit?”

“Kinda. We actually had an okay conversation.”

“Wow. First time for everything.”

James laughed, then echoed, “first time for everything.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “Man… can you even imagine how screwed we’d be right now without the Standard?”

“Deeply.”

“How many people work at your office? Sorry — worked?”

“About three hundred. And we’re not the only closure.”

“Yeah. So, thousands of people lost their jobs today. Heck, an entire line of work was completely eliminated, meaning one less occupation for anyone to ever have again.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

She shook her head. “Hard to believe anyone still wants to get rid of the Standard. I mean, we’ve seen how effective it is — remember all the truckers?”

“Get rid of the Standard?” came Ben’s alarmed voice from the doorway.

James and Sophia looked at each other.

“How much of our conversation did you hear?” asked James.

“Just the last part.”

“Cool. Go find your sister, we’ve got some stuff we need to talk to you two about.”

“Hey, Jenkins?” asked James, popping his head in the back door, keeping his feet on the back porch to avoid tracking in dirt.

The drone quickly approached, its indicator light flashing. “I’m listening!” it said eagerly.

“Is the Printer done yet?”

“Four minutes and twenty-seven seconds remaining,” replied Jenkins. “Would you like an alert?”

“Can you just bring it out to me when it’s done?”

“Sorry — the weight of the item exceeds my carrying capacity. Would you care to purchase a Print License for an upgrade?”

James half-frowned. “Just let me know when it’s finished.”

“Understood!” replied the drone, almost too cheerfully.

James returned to his gardening endeavor. In his thus-far three weeks of unemployment, he had managed to convert two square meters of their back yard into grow beds, but felt skeptical anything would result.

At lunchtime, Sophia came home to find him facing away from the back door with his headphones on, and she couldn’t resist sneaking up and lightly brushing her fingertip through his hair.

James leapt to his feet, furiously brushing the top of his head before noticing his wife standing nearby. He glared at her, then smiled at shook his head. “Jerk.”

“Couldn’t help myself, sorry.” She took a seat in one of the patio chairs and regarded the garden. “Looks great!”

“We’ll see if that holds true in a couple months.”

“I believe in you.”

“Thanks.” He pulled over another patio chair and sat beside her. “Notice anything?”

Sophia inspected the yard, then shrugged at him. “Sorry…”

James smiled. “Count the chairs.”

“You fixed it?”

“Yeah. Printed some new legs.”

“Look at you! Productive.”

“Yeah, well.” He sighed. “Still no job leads, so I have to keep myself busy somehow.”

Sophia reached over and took his hand into hers. “Don’t stress. It’s not your fault.”

“To be honest, I kinda don’t mind. It’s… actually really nice having the time to get all this stuff done.”

Glancing around, Sophia figured out which chair had the new legs, and got up to examine them more closely. “The License didn’t cost too much, did it?”

He shook his head. “I wanted to do some other stuff today too but we’d have to upgrade our Printer — ours doesn’t support the new Licenses.”

“What about Mel’s dress?”

“Yeah, that one’s in-store only.”

“Can you run to town? It’s tomorrow night.”

He nodded. “Sure.”

“Thanks.” She looked him up and down, taking in his soil-smeared appearance. “Maybe take a shower first.”

*

Approaching the Macro store, James noticed a crowd gathered out front. “I knew there’d be a line,” he murmured to himself, but as he grew closer he realized nobody was going inside.

“What’s going on?” he asked a man in the crowd.

“They’re closed.”

“What? Like, for renovations?”

“No. Like, forever.”

James weaved his way to the front of the building looking for a sign or explanation but found none. He pulled out his phone and tried searching for a non-video news report; failing that, he retrieved one of his earbuds and frustratedly slid it into his ear.

After an unskippable thirty-second video, a newscaster appeared onscreen, standing in front of another closed Macro store. “Macro, today, announced they’ll be closing their smaller locations in order to beef up their regional stores. Customers can look forward to an expanded range of larger-scale printable items, with thousands of new Licenses for furniture and even cars over the coming weeks.”

“Nice spin,” grumbled James, putting his phone away. He headed back to his car.

*

“We can’t print that here,” said the young tech at a nearby independent Printer.

“But I bought the License already,” said James, “I just need to print it out.”

“Doesn’t matter, only Macro can print that.”

“What? But it’s all the same schematics.”

“It’s not that we can’t, it’s that it’s against the law.”

James slumped. “That’s stupid.”

“Powerfully, yeah. Anyway, if you have any open-source Licenses you’d like to print we’d be happy to help, but you people have been coming in all morning and like… I mean, there’s nothing we can do for you.”

“If you did print something, what would happen?”

The tech shrugged. “Same as you: fines, maybe jail time. Only, we’d probably lose our licensing authority as well. So… we’d be out of business.”

Putting the pieces together, James nodded. “Because Macro owns all the licensing infrastructure.”

The tech nodded back. “Yee-up, pretty much. You can always order online but it’s like… more expensive and it takes longer.”

Deflated, James started backing toward the door. “Sorry for wasting your time.”

“Not your fault.”

“Yeah, people keep telling me that.”

“I was starting to get worried,” said Sophia as James arrived with Mel’s birthday gift.

“Four hours,” he grumbled.

“I heard there were more closures… the smaller Macros.”

“That would explain the lines.”

Sophia frowned and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry.”

He squeezed her back. “It’s okay.”

“It’ll all be worth it in like twenty minutes when she opens it.”

They wove their way through the guests toward the food, nodding and waving at family members along the way.

James grabbed a hamburger and a small Printed cookie, eschewing a plate to his wife’s chagrin. “Is she mad it’s not as big as her brother’s?”

“The present?”

“The party.”

“Oh.” Sophia glanced around at the somewhat sparser crowd and less extravagent decor. “Actually, she’s taking it surprisingly well.”

“She is fourteen now after all.”

Sophia laughed. “True.”

On their way to a table, James felt a set of arms grab him from behind, and he stopped walking.

“I was worried you weren’t going to make it,” said Mel, squeezing him.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he replied. “But I had to get your — “

“I know, daddy,” she interrupted, “and I feel terrible about it. If I knew it was going to be so hard, I’d have asked for something else. It’s just… stuff, y’know?”

James frowned at Sophia, who had been watching the exchange with amusement. She shrugged and smiled, which made him smile as well.

*

As Jenkins bagged up all the trash and Mel experimented with different animated designs on her OLED dress, James sat at the patio table looking at upgraded Printers on the Macro website. After awhile Sophia joined him from inside and sat across from him.

“Whatcha up to?” she asked.

“Realizing how impossible it is to upgrade our Printer. At least, if we want one that can use the newer Licenses.”

She nodded a few times. “Too expensive?”

“Yeah. I just… if it’s going to be a four-hour trip every time, I mean… that’s not sustainable either.”

“I know,” she replied, then winced. “Ugh.”

“Yeah, it’s — “ he started, but cut himself off when he looked up and noticed her pained expression. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m…” She trailed off and shook her head, then pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, I really don’t feel too great.”

He set down his tablet and pushed it aside. “Something you ate?”

“No. Maybe? I don’t know.”

“Did you take any — “

“Ibuprofen, yeah. Hours ago. Doesn’t seem to be working.”

James got up and moved to the chair next to her, glancing over at Mel who was still occupied with the new dress. “Anything I can get you?”

She groaned painfully, squeezing her eyes shut. “An ambulance.”

He laughed.

“No, I’m serious, James, I think I need to go to the hospital.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

Jenkins stopped cleaning and approached them. “I’ve taken the liberty of readying your car and am notifying the hospital of your emergency. Please let me know if I can be of further assistance.”

“Mom?” asked Mel, having noticed something wrong.

“Go get your brother,” said James, helping Sophia to her feet.

“What’s going on?” asked Mel, increasingly alarmed.

“Just… wake him up, meet us at the car.”

Mel nodded and ran inside.

“Not on her birthday,” whispered Sophia to herself. “Not on her birthday.”

“Everything’s going to be okay,” said James, picking her up. “You’re going to be okay.”

“Thanks,” groaned Sophia sleepily, as James set a cup of tea brewed from leaves in the garden onto her nightstand.

“Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay. I can’t sleep the whole day. I mean… I can, but I probably shouldn’t.”

James smiled and sat on the bed next to her, gently brushing the backs of his fingertips against the side of her face. “How you feeling?”

She struggled to sit up, waving aside his attempt to help. “Bad. Better than yesterday, but still bad.”

“Better is good.”

“Yeah.” She took his hand. “How are the kids doing today?”

“Mel’s at Angie’s. Ben’s playing video games in the basement.”

She smiled. “I didn’t ask where they were, I asked how they were.”

“They both seem fine but I don’t know. I tried talking to Mel last night and she just kind of shut me out. She’s scared. At least, I think so anyway. It’s hard to tell when she refuses to talk about it.”

Sophia frowned. “My poor girl.”

“She just turned fourteen but I feel like she’s aged another whole year in the two months since.”

“What about Ben?”

“He puts on a brave face — “

“Like his dad,” interrupted Sophia.

James shrugged. “I can tell he’s worried though. Just like I’m sure they can tell I am.”

Sophia shook her head. “I’ll be fine. You heard the doctors, they sounded confident.”

“I know, but still. It’s hard seeing someone you love be sick.”

She squeezed his hand, then let go to carefully grab her tea. “You’re doing a good job.”

“You say that, but here you are recovering from… y’know… and you’re the one having to comfort me. If I was really doing a good job it’d be the other way around.”

She blew on her tea while James spoke, then took a sip. “It’s hard on everyone. You don’t have to put your own feelings on hold, we can both feel shitty.”

“See? You’re so much better at this than I am.”

Swallowing another sip, she lifted the cup. “But you’re way better at making tea.”

He laughed. “Thanks.”

*

Ben set his backpack in the middle of the floor and Mel, trailing him, picked it up and put it in the corner along with her own.

“Thanks,” said James. “Ben, it’s not your sister’s job to clean up after you.”

“Sorry,” said Ben from the kitchen.

“Don’t be sorry, be better.”

Mel plopped onto the couch and started typing on her phone. “It’s fine, he’s a kid.”

“Yeah, but so are — “

“Please don’t say ‘so are you’,” she interrupted, frowning with her mouth but smiling with her eyes.

James laughed. “Fair enough.” He grabbed his tablet from the table and started looking through his to-do list, scrolling past the fifteen items he had already completed, suddenly feeling a cold boulder of anxiety splash into his stomach.

“What’s up?” asked Mel, studying him.

“Oh, uh, nothing. Just… not enough hours in the day.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

He shook his head and left for the garage. “Nah, I got it. Thanks, though.”

*

James paced back and forth in front of their Printer. He had purchased the License days before with the intention of driving to the regional Macro store but had been so frazzled and distracted he had neglected to go.

“Think, think, think, think,” he muttered to himself.

The components were simple enough — their consumer-grade Printer could easily handle it — but this particular License expressly stated it was only to be printed in-store.

James grabbed his computer and searched on an encrypted connection for Printer hacking software. Rumor had it there were workarounds to allow any Printer to print any License, provided its hardware was capable. After only twenty minutes of research, he managed to locate a firmware patch on a Dark Server. He downloaded it and, with only a moment’s hesitation, installed it to their home Printer.

Moments later, a dozen small pills rolled down the chute.

*

“Wow,” said Sophia, taking the medication from him, “back already! I’m surprised, your trips seem shorter and shorter.”

“Do they?” asked James, still afraid to tell her about the illegal modifcations he made two weeks prior.

She swallowed the pill, grimacing a little. “NPR was saying they closed even more stores. I guess Macro’s execs are realizing they don’t have to sell anything if they can just print whatever they want for themselves. I’m surprised it hasn’t made the lines worse.”

“Yeah! It, uh… hasn’t been too bad, I guess.”

“Well either way, I’m sorry you keep having to go.”

“No, don’t apologize — “

The doorbell rang, startling them both.

Sophia glanced at the clock. “At this hour?”

James shrugged, his heart pounding like a desperate fist against a locked door on a sinking ship. He sprang to his feet and headed for the living room, momentarily relieved to see Mick’s familiar form framed in the doorway until he noticed the man’s Macro employee uniform. A personal security Jenkins hovered ominously behind him over the front lawn.

Mel turned and looked nervously at her father. “He says you used to work together?”

“Mick!” said James, with feigned enthusiasm.

“James,” replied Mick somewhat stonily. A meek smile flashed across his mouth.

“Dad?” whispered Mel, clearly picking up on the tension.

“It’s okay,” he whispered back. “He’s an old work friend.”

Mick cleared his throat. “I’m uh… here to take a look at your Printer.”

Smiling for Mel’s benefit, James nodded and led him out to the garage.

*

“You’re lucky I saw your name on the case,” said Mick, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure nobody was eavesdropping. “Tampering with your Printer is bad enough, Jimmy, but pharmaceuticals? I mean, Jim…”

James sighed, then looked Mick up and down. “So this is your new job? Terms of Service enforcement?”

Mick nodded, feigning pride but averting his eyes. “Had to support my family. And it’s not so bad a gig.”

“Yeah, if you can get over the totalitarianism.”

“Pfft, ‘totalitarian’ — it’s not a government job.”

James shook his head but chose to abstain from arguing.

“Listen,” said Mick, “I get it, nobody likes enforcers. But at least it puts me in a place I can try to help people. Like you.”

“Yeah, until they automate this job too,” said James jokingly, but neither of them laughed. “So like, what, is there a fine or something?”

“I uh… have to confiscate your Printer.”

James gaped at him. “What?”

“You violated your Terms of Service.”

“Yeah, but… I need it. My family needs it. And we can’t afford another one, not now.”

Mick strolled over to the Printer and started examining it. “Should’ve thought of that before you hacked it.”

James shook his head. “A minute ago you were acting like you were doing me some kind of favor.”

“I am! You could’ve been arrested printing pills like that. Don’t be so ungrateful.”

“We have a prescription. My wife does, at least. And a License.”

Mick shrugged. “Sorry, pal. Terms of Service are Terms of Service, you know? If I don’t do anything, then I get in trouble.”

As Mick began unhooking the Printer, James moved to intervene, but then noticed the security Jenkins hovering just outside the garage door.

“I’m telling you, Jimbo,” said Mick, laboriously hauling the Printer out to the trunk of his car as it backed itself into the driveway, “you’re lucky your old pal Mickey was on the case. Real lucky.”

“Yeah,” said James hollowly. “Lucky.”

Mick got into his car and wound down the window. “And hey, you still got the Standard, right? You’ll be fine.”

Stunned, James watched him drive away, then lay down on his lawn and stared up at the night sky.