“No robots.”

Mewrit paced the floor, glaring at the screen, head compensating by swiveling as he passed the desk. Automatic lubrication valves at his joints activated at the detected squeaking.

“So,” he addressed the offending website, accessing his core library and extrapolating. “Don’t we have eyes?”

The visual sensors remained unblinking. “Sort of. Hands?” He held them up, somewhat more confident. “Er…organs…”

The hydraulics whined. “After a fashion.”

He quietly analyzed the remaining quote. “Skip that. If you prick us, do we not…whirr…leak?”

It was a tired ending to a useless tirade.

Now on a state-by-state basis, the USA was partitioned the into two halves: Zoned For Guns (ZFG) and No Gun Zone (NGZ).

ZFG was governed with laws to protect the right of gun ownership in all legal matters.

NGZ was governed with laws which put the right of the human being first, to the detriment of any gun, in all legal matters.

For the people who registered to live in the ZFG, it became a crime to not have in their residence, or vehicle, or within arm’s reach at all times, a firearm. This crime was punishable by jail, a fine, or both. The worst offenders faced forced relocation to the NGZ.

For the people who registered to live in the NGZ, it became a crime to possess, sell, buy or trade guns. The punishment was jail, a fine, or both. The worst offenders faced forced relocation to the ZFG.

There were chaotic scenes when the Great Partition came into effect. In places where the migrating lines ran parallel, insults were hurled which sometimes lead to fights and shootings, which kept the Partition Police busy. The gun owners blamed the non-gun people for being the cause of disruption. The non-gun owners blamed the gun people for being the cause of disruption.

There were mass voluntary relocations into each side of the Great Partition. This was helped to a large degree by families swapping equivalent houses.

The forced relocations were another matter. Fortunately the Partition Police Force had been established very early in the piece and was well trained for any contingency. This is a measure of how deeply passions ran on both sides.

Unfortunately there were the ‘stay puts’ who could not be persuaded to take part in the Great Partition voluntarily. The media played up the dramatic scenes of their forced relocations which only inflamed passions on both sides.

The National Rifle Association (NRA) remained vocal during the time of the Great Partition, gloating over what they saw as a victory in principle for their philosophy.

After the Great Partition had been established, things did not settle down to the peaceful outcome expected.

The NRA took an aggressive stance, advertising heavily on the NGZ side for people to join the ZFG side. The NGZ retaliated with a similar campaign which included a cash incentive for anyone who would move to NGZ for at least 12 months which led to what was described in the media as the Mercenaries; people for whom the cash overrode their moral compass, and defected to the NGZ, only to counter productively move back to ZFG after 12 months.

The NRA also lobbied expensively for the NGZ to modify their laws or adopt compromises closer to the ZFG stance.

Incoming Text 2:34PM: At 2:32PM, Sheila George took Orwell Street, favoring her left leg from a prior injury. At post office drop box #019840 deposited a letter addressed to her mother, Ann George. Contents are to be determined.

I apologized, explained how busy I was. Being in a hurry, mind on other things. When absorbed with a book, I would walk with my head down. (Hadn’t he noticed?) Feel its characters as they stride with me. My physical surroundings matter not.

There were other days too, he said.

It wasn’t my intention to appear unfriendly. I promised I’d lift my head more and make a point of looking out for my neighbor.

Days later, I saw him running across the street.

I waved.

All eight family members now assemble around the boardroom table to learn the expert’s opinion. The family elect me to read out the report.

“This ceramic urn is African. When the rim chipped centuries ago, someone fitted a silver collar which helped preserve it. In our estimation, it is at least 500 years old.”

“It’s the same age as Granddad!”

‘Label the pedals,’ Ned instructed. Laughing, the word ‘brake’ was put on the clutch and ‘clutch’ on the brake. After a struggle Ned called brusquely,’I’m going on the beer.’ His men kindly laced the ale with castor oil. Walking like a duck Ned struggled to the gate and wasn’t seen for two days.

I’ve never been shot before but suddenly I’m experiencing a strange sensation and call out, “I think I’ve been shot.” Just my luck to take a bullet.

“I’ll get you tended to,” says Zac. I knew he would. Zac’s reliable like that.

Zac half carries me to our getaway car. I feel myself fading during the rough car ride. “Here we are,” says Zac.

“Tattoo parlour,” I moan in disbelief. “You’ve brought me to a tattoo artist?”

Stiletto heels clicked her steps up the runway to where he lived. She rang the doorbell. Waited.

How could he forget a special day or ignore it?

She noticed the door ajar. Pushed it. Entered a dark apartment.

“Surprise,” voices screamed in unison. Lights went on.

Her beau poked his head into view from the other side of the door.

One moonlit evening whilst withdrawing takeaway cash a scuffle ensued. Police arrested a crook from the off license nearby. As he was dragged away the thief shouted back,

“They will want the details of everything you have ever worked on, all your current work in progress, every project you plan to work on in the future.”

“I’ll go into hiding.”

“You can’t hide. They will track you down to the ends of the Internet. They want it all. They will scan everything inside your head.”