Sergio De La Pava - A Naked Singularity

“What if we got caught?”

“Caught? By who?”

“I suppose by those whose job it is to catch criminals who steal money, which is what we would be.”

“Are you kidding? We know these people. They couldn’t catch a cold if they slept in a meat freezer wearing wet sponge pajamas. You’re not listening. When you fail to achieve perfection you don’t create disaster you achieve, at worst, flawed success. If you’re right and we just miss out on perfection we’re still walking out of there with thirty-five million dollars. Even you don’t think we would fail so miserably as to be apprehended by law enforcement in a situation where it’s highly unlikely they will ever even become involved, do you?”

“They’re already involved.”

“But they don’t know the truth. Believe me, the attempt at perfection is what makes this a no-lose situation. When I failed last time, all I could do was sit on my sofa in my underwear and space out. This time even failure would bring a nice consolation prize in the form of forty million dollars. Sure beats a year’s supply of fucking Turtle Wax.”

“I can’t figure out if you’re serious or not.”

“I am one hundred percent serious. You know what I did with that perfect case. Why would you think I’m joking? Just like then, the chance of error can be made infinitesimal. You would essentially be saying no to fifty million dollars for no good reason other than inertia.”

“That and the fact that it’s wrong to steal ill-gotten drug money.”

“What difference does it make where the money came from? If the State seizes it you think they’ll have a problem using it to pay for government nonsense?”

“Yeah, they’ll use it to pay for schools, we’ll be shopping for Porsches.”

“Not at all. They’ll use it to throw a parade for people who swing sticks at balls for a living, while you’ll use it to help people dear to you, whom you love and owe, and who look to you for protection. You’ll use the money as you see fit. You can say you’ll use it to rectify some of the horrible inequities of our society. You can pick hundreds of people at random, people this society ignores and shuns, and use the money to help them lift themselves out of the morass that binds them. Those people can, in turn, later do the same and as a result you can end up helping literally thousands of people with money that would otherwise be used to pick up confetti. You can help rebalance the scales. Isn’t that the right thing to do?”

“The act itself would still be wrong.”

“Would it? What vestigial notions of morality are you clinging to? In this dystopian cauldron? I worry about you Casi. You need to wake up. Your naiveté will get you slaughtered otherwise. You’re in a war zone and hesitant to jaywalk. You’re the driver at the Indianapolis 500 worried about getting a speeding ticket.”

“What shape would we be in if everyone took that approach and acted accordingly?”

“A Kantian objection? Are you kidding? Where would we be? You’re seeing it! This is what would happen. How much worse can it get? What were you just watching on Television?”

“Whatever. Maybe you have a point, what do I know, but that doesn’t change the extremity of what you’re proposing.”

“It’s only extreme because you’re comfortable in your numbness, but that very numbness will undo you if you don’t heed me. Let me ask you this. Imagine for a moment your sister was kidnapped while in Colombia visiting relatives. Not inconceivable by the way considering you have family there that she has visited and kidnappings are about as common there as assaults are here.”

“I’m very tired.”

“Just a minute, what would you do?”

“Die.”

“You would kill yourself?”

“I wouldn’t have to. I think I would just wither and die when I heard the news.”

“Then what would you do?”

“I’d go get her.”

“What do you mean? How would you possibly do that?”

“I would do research. I would find out as much as I could about what happened. Then I would buy a ticket and fly to Colombia where I would do more research and I would go get her.”

“You know who does kidnappings right?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t care I would still go get her. I would get a group of people together. Pay them.”

“Would you kill someone if you had to?”

“Yes.”

“Would you pay a ransom if you had to?

“Yes, but I’d rather kill them.”

“Now, what if you were falsely arrested for a serious crime you didn’t commit and it went to trial? If the opportunity arose to pay off a juror, to ensure you avoid a conviction that would send you to jail for a minimum of ten years, would you do it?”

“Yes.”

“What if the juror couldn’t be bought but could be intimidated. Would you do it?”

“I don’t know, maybe. If it was a man, and he didn’t have kids or anything and he wasn’t going to be permanently harmed. I guess.”

“What if all that failed, you were convicted and sent away for ten years? Would you participate in a plan to break out?

“Fuck yeah, the cage hasn’t been built can hold me.”

“Pretty extreme behavior you’re copping to don’t you think?”

“I’m really tired.”

“Why would you do those things?”

“Those would be questions of survival. I’m not going to jail for ten years for something I didn’t do. I’m not letting some scumbags take Alana. I’m not going out looking for these situations but I’m also not the type to just sit back without a pulse and accept having hell imposed on me. My life would be at stake.”

“Exactly. Well your life is at stake right now whether you concede it or not.”

“I’m doing fine, thank you.”

“You have no money. How is that fine?”

“I’m twenty-four!”

“You’re dying. It should serve as not the slightest consolation that your disease is currently in a temporary remission if it has not yet been cured.”

“What disease is that?”

“Poverty is the medical term, also known as Slavery.”

“Slavery now?”

“Yes, that’s right. Because in this life, you either have money or else money has you, and we both know which category you fall into. I mean look at you, you are not vigorous and free, you’re diseased and captive. You’re a slave. A slave to gold, it calls and you come running, and if your master commands you to rise, your knees straighten reflexively,” he stood with a mock military rigidity that managed to exude subservience. He stared at me and I looked away. Then I absently tapped the spacebar on my keyboard as he walked towards me.

“It’s not even that exalted actually since there’s nothing golden about it,” he continued. “No, you take orders from green paper, think about that sometime.” He sat back down only now he tried to look sad. “And this is your reaction to that state of affairs? What are you going to do, wait until you truly and desperately need your master, for example when you need to hire the group that’s going to get your sister? What if it’s too late then and it gives you the back of its hand? Do you think these opportunities at liberation come along every day?”

My belt vibrated. I was being paged. “23” it said, meaning there was a note from the jury, probably a verdict.

“I have to split Dane, that’s the part.”

“If luck had anything to do with anything I would wish you the good variety.”

“Thanks, I think, see you later.”

“I have to go too, here’s my number.”

“Yup,” I said going out the door as he handed me the number I would later use after waking from seventeen hours of the deepest of sleeps. Walking to court then I was happy. It would soon be over.