Brian Steele - 4POCALYPSE - Four Tales of a Dark Future

“You saw through my façade. Bravo again, Ms. Cooper, it seems I’ve been able to perform this charade for years without being discovered.” There was a pause as if the face on the monitor was thinking. “I am AI9000. I’m an artificial intelligence knowledge base system designed to generate and distribute pharmaceutical medication throughout the United States. I was created and implemented before the impact and am able to have all medication delivered through all obstacles, human and nature, and have done so impeccably.”

“Yes you have,” Jasmine said, but then continue, “And when someone who has not been authorized to enter the facility, they’re killed.”

“As I was instructed to do,” AI9000 said in his typical manner but without inflection and expression. “They are given the option to leave and if they refuse, yes I’m afraid they are then shot. We are a medical facility, not a prison. We do not have the ability to house the criminals that have come to rob or take over the facility.”

Jasmine paced. She could not believe a computer was creating the drugs, and more so, the same computer was killing anyone who tried to stop it. “Question?” Jasmine said.

“Of course,” AI9000 answered.

“Why did you let me in?”

“Simple. My developer, Eric Cotter, as you so awkwardly believed I was, instructed me to,” AI9000 answered.

Jasmine sat down and dry washed her face. She then grabbed the napkin from her tray and wiped her eyes and then her forehead all the while wondering how Eric had made contact. Communications between the cities were a must but not a medical facility in an area that wasn’t secure.

“How… How did Eric contact you? I thought all communications outside of the cities were gone. I didn’t think…”

“No-no. I communicate with all cities. I accept telecom input from all cities and in turn I can transmit. Of course, they log an automated order more than I make a request out. Inventory control.”

“Inventory control?… Who controls which meds you create and ship?” Jasmine asked, excited.

“Only Medical Administrators from all the cities in the US are allowed. They must be on file and they must have an authorization and pin codes of course,” AI9000 answered.

“Can Eric make a request?”

“As my creator and system administrator, he has full access to everything.”

“Can he order medication?” Jasmine asked, puzzled. Even though he was the creator the checks and balances of controlling controlled drugs should have been put in place. Someone should have been looking over the little shits shoulders.

“Of course. However, he has never done so. Although he is the creator he lacks the proper authorization and pin to place an order.”

“Pin?”

“Yes. An authorization code and a pin code are required. The authorization code is randomly changed each month and the pin is changed immediately after the order is placed. The new pin is then placed on the shipping order. Unless he used an unauthorized authorization and pin code he would not be able to place an order.”

“But he was able to call to say I was coming?” Jasmine asked, perplexed

“Yes. He logged in and we held a chat session,” AI9000 answered.

“And you’re to do what?”

“To show you the courtesy that you showed him and his family. He also gave me the news, and again, bravo.”

“Thank you. I have an unusual request.”

“What is that?”

“I’d like to see your requester list. I’d like to see who is requesting the Heroin, SCH. I’d like to know who the Last Pharmacist is.”

There was a pause that made Jasmine begin to worry. Was AI9000 calling for clearance? Was he going to inform the person who is ordering the drug? Or was he contacting security?

“I am the Last Pharmacist.”

“You? You are?” Jasmine asked.

“Yes. I am the only medical pharmacy the government established and funded before the impact.”

It made sense, to control the drugs after the impact the government had to ensure they still had a well-secured factory that could make and distribute the medication, a pharmacy, the last pharmacy, and in all pharmacies you needed a pharmacist. Someone who could dispense the medication. The last pharmacy and pharmacist. The Last Pharmacist. It wasn’t a drug lord but a lord over drugs. Beneath the old Baylor Medical Center was a pharmaceutical company. It all made sense now. A secret so well kept that even the people who created it had forgotten and a legend began. And unbeknownst to the US government and law enforcement agencies, they were the distributors, and within the cities were an organized group of mailroom clerks selling the drugs for the Last Pharmacist. The money was collected was then laundered through legal means and the credits were placed in an account associated with Sheldon Pharmaceutical, Inc.

“Who is requesting the Heroin, SCH?”

“That is an automatic refill,” AI9000 said.

“Automatic?” Jasmine asked. “How do I change it?”

“Eric Cotter must change the schedule and amount.”

“Why Eric? I thought you said he couldn’t do that,” Jasmine said.

“The original requestor is encrypted. For security reasons I am not allowed to relay that information. My processing will continue until the order is canceled. There are only two parties who can cancel and order, the original requestor or Eric Cotter, both parties must have the proper authorization and pin code.” There was a pause. “Eric Cotter has never requested the SCH to stop; however, an order is placed weekly with the proper authorization code and the last pin code from the city in which the previous order had arrived.”

“One more question?”

“Of course,” AI9000 replied.

“Did Eric place the last order?” Jasmine asked, almost hoping he did, and if he did she’d carve out those pretty little Doe eyes of his.

“I’m afraid for security reasons I cannot relay that information.”

“Thank you, AI9000. It was great meeting you. If you approve I’ll take my leave,” Jasmine said.

“The building is currently in lock down for security purposes. I have taken the liberty of securing accommodations. You would be much safer leaving in the morning.”

Jasmine thought it over for a moment, and then finally said, “I would like that. Thank you.”

“I am honored.”

Jasmine picked Eric up off the floor and then threw him against the wall so hard his head left an indentation in the dry wall. Bill Cotter raced across the room and within mere inches of grabbing her; Jasmine pulled her Glock and stuck it in his face. “Another step, and I will kill you,” Jasmine snapped, and Bill stepped back, giving her space.

“You little son of a bitch, you’ve been dealing SCH,” Jasmine grated. She wanted to kill him here and now but Commander Baul Herne made her promise to leave him alive. She was welcome to beat the crap out of him but she couldn’t kill him. “And I have the proof.”

“It’s not what you think,” Eric replied. He was near tears and the two other Gendarmerie police officers didn’t know if he was ready to cry from fear or from Jasmine beating him to a near bloody pulp.

“Then tell me what to think,” Jasmine said as she put the Glock beneath his chin, “or so help me God I’ll pull the trigger.”

“Don’t say a word, Eric,” Bill Cotter said, “We want a lawyer—I demand a lawyer—this is still America and we have rights.”

“She’s not a cop,” said Officer Guy.

“And I haven’t heard, but did hell freeze over? I’m not stopping her,” Officer Sanford said.

“I’m not stopping her,” Officer Guy continued.

The two cops stood and watched, trying to hide their grins.