Hero of Humanity

Yesterday I signed up to be a hero. Not just any hero, a Hero of Humanity. That's pretty heady stuff, I can tell you. The stickynote adverts have been up all over town, fluttering for a day then disintegrating, then reappearing as the endless pile of government subscription money reloads them back to crisp yellowness once again. No good citizen can pass an upright structure without hearing the stickynote whisper and spotting the message: A Hero is Loved. A Hero of Humanity Is Loved by All! Some stickynotchers got in and added some pretty graphic images to a whole slew down at CenterRail. Those disappeared before their allotted renewal time.

In any case, I'm off to Lucy-knows-where in a few weeks. All I need to do is lay low until I can slip into the sanctuary of the processing station and I'm home free.

"Are we tracking?"
"Yep, we got him. What next?"
"Run a last check, just to make sure"
"Running . . . OK, it looks like he's still . . . hold it, nope, he's been vacated."
"What!? He can't be cleared, he's wanted on multiple charges!"
Yeah, but he hasn’t killed anyone, counterfeited any polymers, or stirred up any dissidents. Looks like a standard petty repeat offender and now he's got himself signed on as a Hero of Humanity."
"You have got to be shitting me, I thought they weren't letting any Confirmed through the gate."
"We could still get him, I mean, we have him tracked solid, he doesn't know we're on him, and he has a clear and open warrant. The only thing stopping us is a little note from the Sup: "Vacated for Transshipment."

You know, I might just be able to slip through and get out on that Silver Bullet. I'm a pretty good dancer and the boys at Oversight are loaded with work. I think I'll try after a couple of shots at Bern's. And there it is now, just around the corner and across the wire from Trans Port A2; the Carr Strip to the rest of us.
"Come on Eddie, I want some sweet surrender. My account is fresh full, really."
"Sure boyo, I don't think you got the grey matter to skim any binaries and you sure as hell are too lazy to . . ."
"I'm a genuine Hero Eddie, so serve it up. And you can tittylick the boyo now, as a I said, you're talking to a Hero."
"Lemme see"
"Well, Juicy-fucking-Lucy gentlemen, boyo here's a real Hero! And he's buying the bar!"
"HEY!"

"I still got him, he's Eddie's place across from the processing station."
"You know that place?"
"Yeah, it's not bad except when it gets late and the freaks come out."
"OK, let's pull up here, the window's painted over on that side."

"How much they payin' Heroes these days, boyo?"
"More than you'll see from wiping grime in this dive for the rest of your life, Eddie."
"Maybe, but I bet I live longer than you, even with my cheap plastic lining. There's some harsh shit up there Hero boy; harsh shit that will fucking eat you from the inside out, asshole to earhole."
"Yeah, but they got all sorts of new tech up there now. The bright-eyed Primers got chewed up real bad but it's all tight out there now. I heard its 60 squares per person and five hour work day in a 'fully climate controlled environment."
"Sure boyo, whatever the toon chick sold you. You'll be sleepin' in a 60 square meter bunk tier with 12 hour days on rock spinnin' so fast its homestar's gonna look like a fucking strobe light at a tittybar."
"Speaking of which . . ."