Lucas had just finished mulling things over when he snapped back to reality and noticed that old Gadget had stopped his wailing altogether. Now the oversized rat was squatting atop his backpack, gnawing noisily on that screwdriver-like object Lucas had pilfered.
Scratching the back of his head, Lucas wondered why this rat was so hell-bent on denying its identity.
Not five seconds ago, it was bawling and howling, "I'm not a rat!"—and now it was happily showing off those two front teeth in a quintessential rodent move. The baffling mood swing was enough to make anyone's head spin.
With a weary sigh, Lucas concluded that this critter was either mentally off or had some kind of memory glitch. Deciding it was better not to poke that rat. He stood and addressed Gadget. "Um… Mr. Gadget…"
Clearly, the whole "being a rat" bombshell had taken a toll. Even after Lucas called it twice, the white-furred creature just sat there, head drooping, not moving a muscle. Finally, Lucas walked over and shouted, "Hey, Gadget!"
"Squeak…" Gadget answered weakly, not bothering to look up. "What do you want?"
"Er… so, about that…" The creature's squeaky tone was sounding more rattish by the second, which made Lucas fight the urge to roll his eyes. "You know anything about this E-level offender deal?"
Crunch, crunch… squeak, squeak… that was all the reply he got—gnawing sounds and rodent chatter.
"…Can you speak English?"
Crunch, crunch… squeak, squeak, squeak… The chewing got even more intense.
Lucas let out a long sigh. "All right, look, I'm sorry I called you a rat back there. Could you please speak in a language I can actually understand?"
Crunch, crunch… "Uh…" The white rat suddenly stopped chewing and slowly looked up, bewildered. "Man, what did you just ask me?"
Lucas peered curiously into Gadget's eyes—he could've sworn he'd seen lines of something flicker past them a second ago, then vanish like a glitch. Probably my imagination, he decided, shelving that new oddity for later. He repeated his question: "I asked if you knew what E-level criminal means."
"Hah… Of course I know. There's not a single question I don't have an answer for!" The white rat lifted its head proudly, then paused to glance at the half-chewed screwdriver, tossing it aside with a shake of its head. "Weird. Why the heck was I chewing on that thing?"
Aw jeez… He really is losing it, Lucas thought, taking a step back as if doing Michael Jackson's moonwalk, bracing himself. God knows what might happen if this rodent goes nuts—though if he does, maybe I can grab all that stuff he's hiding. The old coot never lets me see half his junk anyway. This might be my chance! But if it goes violent, what if he bites me? That's one big rat…
Fortunately, the scenario Lucas feared—a sudden rat attack—didn't happen. Gadget was a little spacey after dropping the screwdriver, but soon enough he snapped back to normal. He glanced over at Lucas, sounding annoyed. "Yo! Are you listening to me or what? Why're you standing so far off?"
"Well—I, uh, I was worried you might bite me…" Lucas admitted, half under his breath, unable to stop staring at those glinting front teeth.
"Don't sweat it. I won't bite." Gadget gave a dismissive shake of his head like this was all of zero concern. He cleared his throat and asked, "So, E-level criminal, right?"
"Yeah! That police bot that chased me today said I'd just been bumped up to E-level. A few days ago, all they did was shout stuff like 'stealing is shameful' and threaten to dock my credit points if I kept it up… But now they're pulling out tranquilizer guns! Lucky for me, I was quick on my feet, or I'd be locked up and dissected by now!"
"Huh… and you actually outran them." Gadget surveyed Lucas from top to bottom, muttering, "That's strange… People from five hundred years ago were basically monkeys. How'd you outrun a bot with an AC-13 core? Unless the current AI is going downhill?"
"Hold up—who're you calling a monkey?"
Crunch, crunch… Gadget suddenly froze, looking around blankly. "Who said something just now?"
"Ah… no one, never mind…" Lucas clenched his jaw and forced a smile. "Just a certain primate expressing annoyance."
"Primates… so, monkeys, then?"
"You old coot… you're doing that on purpose!"
"Huh?" Crunch, crunch, crunch…
"Fine, never mind, forget it…" Lucas decided that ever since Gadget discovered he was actually a rat, every time the old rodent started thinking, he'd unconsciously revert to typical rat behavior. Massaging his temples, Lucas resigned himself to being lumped in with "monkeys" for now if he wanted to keep the peace—and keep his skin intact.
At least Gadget finally got himself under control enough to explain Earth Alliance law as it stood five hundred years after Lucas's time:
In this future, the average human lifespan had soared to well over three hundred years. Kids started school at age eight, and by the time they were thirteen, they'd already achieved the equivalent of a college degree. If they chose more schooling, they'd earn a doctorate by eighteen.
In this era, all penalties and rewards were handed out in credit points. Commit a crime, you get docked points. Work or do something that benefits the alliance, you earn points.
Each citizen started at 1,000 points. If a kid under thirteen broke the law, the penalty was halved and split between the guardian and the kid. From thirteen until "full age," there was a 10% annual scale involved—also split between the guardian and the offender. Once you hit "full age," you took the entire penalty yourself.
Child labor was strictly outlawed, so no one under thirteen could earn extra points. From thirteen to "full age," if you did something good for the alliance, you'd get points on a graduated scale. Over eighteen, it was normal credit gains.
Below is how criminals were categorized:
• 0 to -500 points: F-level offender. Basically comparable to minor civil disputes. Usually they just dock your credits, and you can earn them back later.
• -500 to -2000 points: E-level offender. This now posed a threat to the alliance's stability. Mandatory re-education. In extreme cases, a guard robot armed with tranquilizer darts would shadow you 24/7 to prevent further wrongdoing.
• -2000 to -20000 points: D-level offender. Officially labeled "dangerous." Dedicated law enforcement would track you down, and after you were caught, you'd be under 24-hour guard by real guns and limited in where you could go or with whom you could associate. If you ventured outside designated areas or associated with another offender E-level or above, you'd be playing hide-and-seek with four to eight heavily armed bot enforcers…
• -20000 to -300000 points: C-level offender. Life imprisonment. If it's severe, off you go to an off-world mining colony.
• < -300000 points: B-level offender. Also life imprisonment, but in really bad cases they directly reduce you to a vegetative state.
…And if you go below -1000000 points…
"Okay, okay—enough already," Lucas interrupted. "Even if a baby started committing crimes at birth and kept it up for three centuries straight, hitting that many negative points is insane, right? Don't tell me there are big 'n bad types out there doing wrong every day. But sure, I get it."
Crunch, crunch… crunch…
"All right," Lucas added, rolling his eyes, "Is there some -5000000 points tier? Actually, I kinda want to know if there's such a thing as an SSS-level offender…