Free The Bar Code Tattoo by Suzanne Weyn

could easily screw you up if they saw you had too many traffictickets, or bad credit. That would be enough to mess things around if you applied for a job or wanted to buy a house. You don’t need any hidden thing.”
    “I suppose,” Mfumbe gave in. “It just seems to me that there is something else in there.”
    “Allyson, I’m giving you three columns on the front page for your article on cloning,” August told her. “Is that enough?”
    “Should be,” Allyson agreed. Kayla noticed that she held a black box about the size of a small nuclear oven on her lap.
    Zekeal told August he needed at least four columns to write about how Senator Young was hoping to block a bill in the Senate that would make the bar code required for anyone receiving public assistance. “They say that people on welfare should be required to make it easy for the government to identify them,” he told them. “As if people should lose their civil liberties because they’re poor.”
    Kayla hoped her job at Artie’s Art Supply would pay enough to keep them off public assistance. It was strange to imagine her mother and herself being on welfare. They’d always been so … middle class.
    Mfumbe asked for space to do another political cartoon. “I have a comic strip in mind that shows people having to marry someone that the bar code picks out for them.”
    “That’s not so far-fetched,” Allyson said. “For centuries, people have married mates within their own social class. Now the bar code is creating new social classes.”
    Mfumbe scribbled something on his pad, then began to sketch. From the way he kept looking up at her, Kayla suspected he was sketching her portrait.
    Finally, Nedra secured her space for an article on the history of the bar code. “Let’s see what the websites are doing,” August said, tapping away at the small computer keys.
    “I want to see what Dave Young’s up to,” Zekeal requested.
    “That Dave Young is just a rich guy with a cause,” Nedra sneered.
    “That’s exactly why he’s our best bet,” Zekeal replied. “Rich guys are the only ones who can get anything done. His father is Ambrose Young, the head of the Domestic Affairs Committee in the Senate.”
    “Yeah, but Ambrose Young isn’t like his son,” August mentioned, still typing. “Didn’t you hear that report yesterday? They found out that Young senior has a ton of stock in Global-1.” He hit two more keys. “I’m in.”
    They huddled around the handheld monitor and read. Several links brought them to different related sites. There was a petition in favor of maintaining at least one codeless lane on all highways. Another site enabled you to order preprinted cardsfor sending to senators to protest the mandatory bar coding for public assistance bill.
    After that, they checked anti–tattoo code websites from around the country. Kayla had never dreamed there was such a massive resistance movement. It was encouraging and it meant she wasn’t so unique in her concern about this. She wasn’t a paranoid malcontent. There were even lawyers who agreed with this group and insisted that the bar code was a total violation of civil liberties.
    “Hey, we’re in time for a chat on the Dave Young site,” Zekeal remembered. “Let me type.” August gave him the laptop. Mfumbe sat beside him so that he could type, too.
     
    DY: This is important stuff. If we let Global-1 push their bills through unchallenged, I predict we will find ourselves living in a dictatorship that will rival anything Orwell ever concocted.
    MT: Are you talking about the book 1984 by George Orwell?
    DY: Yes. I suggest that you all read it if you haven’t already. Avoiding that kind of world is what’s at stake.
    ZM: What can we do?
    DY: Stay on top of information on upcoming laws and proposals. Contact government officials. Let them know how you feel.
    ZM: Don’t you think we have to do something more radical?
    DY: Not yet. If we can head this thing off at the start, I hope