4. Laser Tag

Back at work the next morning, Chris and Tom had plenty of time to plan their next move. The bookstore chain was "on hold" with practically every publisher and distributor in the universe. "On hold" means that they hadn't paid their bills, so no one was fulfilling their orders. The job of the shipping and receiving clerk is to open all the new boxes coming in, and packing up the boxes going out. With no books coming in, there were few books on the shelves. They had literally no work at all to do.

"Literally", Tom commented. "I like that. Being we're in a bookstore and all".

Chris had been making the most of the opportunity to catch up on "the classics". Of the few books remaining in the store, many were indeed "the classics". He was currently spread out on the pea green couch they'd rescued from the alley, and was finishing up his nineteenth century American collection with some Bret Harte stories.

"He kind of summed up the spirit of his age", Chris reported.

"Somebody's got to do it", Tom replied.

"Every age has got its spirit, I suppose"

"Speaking of which", Tom said, "I have some more ideas". Tom was now covered in post-its. He found it more convenient to stick them on his shirt to avoid them getting all stuck together. Chris reached over and plucked one off Tom's shoulder.

"Pick a card, any card?" He asked, and read out loud

"Raspberry Chocolate Graham Chunk Cereal? One Calorie?"

"Doesn't that sound good?"

"Sure, but why is it stuck on your shirt?"

"Well, I was thinking, I would like that kind of cereal, so that would make me happy, and other people might like it too, which would also make them happy, and then the world would be a better place if people were a little happier, right?"

"That's kind of stupid", Chris replied, "Aren't there enough happy-making cereals already?"

"I guess you're right", Tom said, and, snatching back the post-it, tore it up and tossed the pieces into the air as if they were confetti.

"If we're going to make the world a better place", Chris said, "it ought to be worth the effort."

"True", Tom said, and glanced down at his shirt. He found another couple of post-its bearing similarly dumb ideas and gave them the same confetti treatment.

"But all the best ideas are already out there", Tom complained, "like 'love thy neighbor' and shit like that"

"And a lot of good they've done", Chris agreed.

"How about this one?", Tom pulled a post-it from his armpit. "Hollywood movies should do more to save the planet."

"More what?"

"They should be greener", Tom said. "We can leave the details up to them. We just have to get the message out, they should be doing more to save the planet"

"Ok, I'll bite", Chris said. "Now what?"

"We get the message out", Tom repeated. "We need to get somebody out there, talking up this idea, but not just anywhere. We have to figure out where."

"And who", Chris muttered.

"Who what?"

"Who to do the talking"

"And who to do the hearing"

"I see what you mean."

"So what do you think?"

"Hmmm", Chris said.

"That's what I thought", Tom replied. It was still the sticking point. Agents of change and targets of change.

"And when we know who", Chris said, "I mean who to do the hearing, then we also have to know where and when, like where they'll be, you know?"

"I got that part down", Tom told him, "it's a kind of laser tag, you know that game?"

"Sure"

"I can brand them with an invisible brand, and then track them. Here I'll show you", and he walked over to his duffle bag and pulled out what looked like a pistol, pointed at at Chris, and before Chris could leap off the couch yelling 'what the fuck?", Tom had already pulled the trigger.

There was a quiet click, a flash of yellow-orange light, and that was all. Chris never felt a thing.

"Okay, now", Tom said, whipping out another variety of his homemade handheld devices, "here you are, see?"

Chris, on his feet now and still a bit startled, walked over and looked down at the greyish screen to see a little red dot pulsating on a grid.

"Take it", Tom said, holding it out to him, "and go walk around the block or something. You'll see how it follows you. There's even a trajectory mode", he added, grabbing back the device and pushing a couple of buttons on the side.

"Now it'll trace out a line wherever you go".

Chris took the thing back and walked out the back door into the alley and was gone for several minutes. When he came back into the basement all he could say was

"Holy fuck, does the C.I.A. know you have this thing?"

"It's only meant for good", Tom said. "That's why I have to hide my inventions. God only knows what people would do with them."

"How long does that tag thing last?" Chris wanted to know.

"Couple of days more or less", said Tom.

"So you can watch wherever I go the next two days?"

"Pretty much", Tom said.

"But shit, that pistol", Chris said. "You got to do better than that! You pull that out in public you're gonna get arrested."

"You're right", Tom said, "I'll put it in a stick or something. Thanks."

"I think I know who", Chris told him. "While I was out there walking around I remembered this guy I used to know in L.A. He was like a project manager, one of those guys who goes around to meetings and blabs a lot. Put that notion in his ear, he'll go to work on it. Guy's name is Harold Staley."

"Cool!" Tom said. "So now we just have to tag him and track him and when we know he's in a good spot, get him to overhear the agent!"

"Sounds easy enough", Chris was joking, but Tom didn't realize that.

"So where do we find him?" Tom wanted to know.