The long ARM of Brad Majors:
Bill Brennan

The following takes place in a Denton that exists a few hundred years in the future. Brad Majors is a member of the branch of goverment that controls technology crimes...and in this story, Brad and the rest of the RH characters arent exactly as they are in the film, either... I sat at my desk and looked over the work blotter. A mother Hunt was coming up, and that was the worst duty in the service. I mean, who wanted to hunt down some young couple and bring them in because they got pregnant without a license? The screams, the tears...the guilt. But lets be honest-the world in the year 2350 is a crowded 80 billion people, and there simply isnt ROOM for everyone who wants to have a baby. So you apply for a license from the fertility board. Most people pass, some dont. And if we didnt police the ones that didnt, then someone in some other country would soon abandon the Fertility Laws all together. That would lead to war sooner or later, over food or space or water. And the Earth hasnt had a war in over two hundred years. We here at the ARM-the Amalgamated Reginal Militia-intend to keep it that way. My name is Brad Majors, by the way. I work in Denton City, population three million people, most of them law abiding, give or take. The only time the ARMs get work is when there is a mother hunt on, and when a new computer crime is invented, or when something especially complicated pops up. That would incide the very,very rare murder...or suicide. The phone rang, and I answered. The face of the man on the vid was of a cop: curled hair, ruddy complextion. "Am I speaking to Brad the ARM?" he asked. "This is Inspector Majors," I answered, hoping that the call would exclude me from the hunt. "Im Officer One Vance Parker. I need to ask you to come down to the scene of a possible suicide." he said. "May I ask why?" I asked as I sipped my coffee. "Yes. The...subject is most famous. I assume you've heard of the Transylvanian scientist Frank N Furter?" "I stopped sipping. Of course I had heard of Frank N Furter, every one had. He was from Transylvania, the only other inhabited planet that we know about. Earth is the same to them. Without Furters invention of the Transit Beam, the two cultures would never have met, let alone have allowed mankind to step out into the void of space. Furter had also goven the Earth other scientific marvels: the Medusa, which is a device that coverts organic matter into a stone-like substance and back again. This allowed food and planst and animals and passengers to survive long voyages in soace, emergency situations, avoiding terminal desise by going into stasis...and now the brain that gave us those wonders was dead? "He's dead?" I asked. "Very. But I belive it is the circumstances of his death that may interest you." said Officer Parker. "How so?" I asked, facinated. "I belive that the Doctor allowed himself to dehydrate himself to death." Parker stepped back and I could see the body: It was a withered skeleton of a man, dressed in a black corset and stockings, high heels and gloves, a great black cape curled at his feet. He sat on a throne, with empty water and food squeeze-tubes surrounding the floor before him. The tight skin on his white face was pulled back into the biggest, happiest smile I had ever scene...and a small wire ran down his body, from the tip of his head to the socket in the wall. Frank N Furter...was a wirehead. "I'll be right down," I said, and got up. Justb in time, too. I opened my office door in time to see my boss, Sal Piro, walking down the hallway with a number of the other inspectors behind him. "Brad, your on a list," he said with a grimmace. "Nope, Ive got a case," I said, and whispered in his ear. He nooded, and walked on, collecting the rest of the staff. My friend and fellow detective, Ralph Hapschatt, was at the rear of the pack. He gave me a "so long, see ya, Brad" and an envious smile and was gone. And so was I. Frank N Furter, what I knew of him, didnt seem the suicidal type. I smelled a rat,a stainless steel rat...I went up to the roof and pinted my clicker at a taxi. It decnded,,[icked me up, and I punched in the adress that Officer Parker gave me, and I was on the way.

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