Cover by Jim Holloway

FOLLOW ALL MANDATES SO ALPHA COMPLEX WILL WORK PECFERTLY. In Alpha Complex, The Computers underground city of the future, happy citizens follow all mandates. If they dont, The Computer will be unhappy. This will make the happy citizens unhappy too. Quickly. THE COMPUTER DID NOT SAY PECFERTLY. THE COMPUTER ALWAYS SPEAKS FERPECTLY. Efficiency auditor Clarence-Y enforces mandatesand he knows them all. By owning a secret pet, the mutant lab mouse Ignatius, Clarence has already broken 22 mandates. And its not even lunch. ATTENTION: REPLACE ALL USES OF FERPECTLY WITH CREFPETLY. THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION. On assignment for Internal Security, Clarence impersonates notorious criminal Superstar Pirate and infiltrates four treasonous secret societies in one day. All the mandate violations! Theyre making his head explode. No, wait. Heavy weaponrythats what will explode his head. A FREE preview, The Recruitment of Clarence-Y, from the complete PARANOIA novel Y1:

Traitor Hangout
by WJ MacGuffin

The Recruitment of Clarence-Y Chapters 1-3 from Y1

Traitor Hangout
by WJ MacGuffin

Ultraviolet Books ultravioletbooks.com

The Recruitment of Clarence-Y, Traitor Hangout, and PARANOIA TM & copyright 2011 by Eric Goldberg and Greg Costikyan. PARANOIA is a trademark of Eric Goldberg and Greg Costikyan. All Rights Reserved. Allen Varney, Authorized User. Based on the PARANOIA roleplaying game. Original setting & game design by Dan Gelber, Greg Costikyan, and Eric Goldberg. Copyright 1984, 1987, 2004, 2009 Eric Goldberg and Greg Costikyan. All Rights Reserved.

PARANOIA / Y1 Traitor Hangout preview / 1

Orientation
ALPHA COMPLEX The Computers underground city of the future. Trust The Computer! The Computer is your friend! CENTRAL PROCESSING UNIT Most prestigious and powerful of the eight service groups, giant bureaucracies that govern every aspect of life. CPU administers rules, regulations, operations, directives, and proceduresthe millionfold tasks of managing Alpha Complex. SECURITY CLEARANCE The measure of The Computers trust in a citizen. High-clearance citizens enjoy comfort and authority. Clearances follow the color spectrum: INFRARED (lowest), RED, ORANGE, YELLOW, GREEN, BLUE, INDIGO, VIOLET, ULTRAVIOLET (highest). IGNATIUS Small white mouse. Former subject in a lab experiment researching probability manipulation. Rescued by a secret society; now a CPU workers pet.

PARANOIA / Y1 Traitor Hangout preview / 2 The Recruitment of Clarence-Y: Chapters 1-3 from the full-length PARANOIA novel Y1 Traitor Hangout by WJ MacGuffin

1: Alls well that ends with the other guy in trouble

Mandate HPPM 722.20/a: Any citizen who spots a creature from the Outdoors within Alpha Complex must immediately report said creature to Internal Security as a threat to hygiene and good order. Said creature may be diseased and contagious, mutated and radioactive, easily angered and oversensitive about its appearance, Communist, or otherwise part of a larger scheme to infect, infest, pollute, malign, subvert, subjugate, or destroy Alpha Complex. Clarence-Y-SKL-1 was an efficiency auditor for Central Processing Unita Yellowpants. He loved his workmost days. Not today. Having accompanied Troubleshooter Team Mandrake-945 into the fieldspecifically, the field of fireClarence-Y crouched behind an overturned vendobot in a black-walled mess hall. The black walls meant the room was INFRARED Security Clearance, suited only for drugged prole workers, the lowest of the low. Just now the lowest of the low, being the sensiblest of the sensible, had cleared out. Team Leader Ryan-O-GTT-2 crouched beside Clarence. Where Clarence was tall, Ryan was stocky; Clarences short, wavy white hair and prominent nose contrasted with Ryans lank dirt-brown combover and stubby pug. Ryan was O-for-ORANGE, one step below Clarence-Y on the clearance spectrum. In one respect the two men were alike: They didnt want to be here. Laser shots fizzed overhead. Ryan shot back in a manner Clarence judged sub-optimally casual. You must be aware intra-team firefighting goes against the spirit of all my efficiency recommendations, and explicitly against my Directive 17. Really? Ryan ducked a laser shot. A brilliant red line flashed through the smoke. Im concerned.

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Troubleshooters were supposedly an elite service unit, not unlike the Yellowpants, but (in Clarences view) lacking in focus and rigor. Look. He pointed at the screen of the PDC, his Personal Digital Companionthe phone-browser-media player-video recorder-tracking device indispensable to every fieldworkers workflow. If I could just get your signature here, here, and here, and your initials here and here, and your tongue print there, that completes my report and we can all get on with our work. He offered a stylus. Another laser shot burned a circle in the wall behind them, leaving a smell of vaporized plastic. Sorry. The Team Leader ejected his laser pistols spent orange barrel and popped on a fresh one. My former teammates have introduced new concerns. Clarence peeked over the vendobot. At the rooms far end, behind a barricade of half-slagged plastic tables, Team Mandrake945s Equipment Guy and Hygiene Officer were asserting their concerns via vigorous laser fire. Amid overturned chairs lay three RED-Clearance Troubleshooters, cut down in the first seconds of the firefight. Clarence understood, down to his thin bones, the importance of prioritization. Yet even so: My SETBE is complete, and I really must have your signature or I cant finish this project. Your what? My Surprise Efficiency and Team Building Exercise. Oh. Ryan shot blind over the vendobot. I thought you were just here to make our lives miserable. At the sound of one of its assigned keywords, the vendobots red plastic front sparked into life. The bot was badly damaged but still game. Miserable? Why not stop shooting each other, and me while youre at it, and share a Yum-Yum Processed Algae Bar? Mmm, tasty. Try Choco-Shrimp! Try Very Berry Jerky! Ten percent off if you pull me upright. Clarence ignored the bot. You shouldnt say that. Mandate HPPM 002.73/f states, Citizens shall remain happy, because The Computer has provided everything needed for a joyful existence. Ryan looked Clarence in his brown, bulging eyes. Listen, the cameras and microphones are broken, so knock off the happiness crap. Alpha Complex sucks and everyone knows it. We choke

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down happiness pills, watch videos with subliminal messages, and listen to those awful Happiness Hymns, because if we dont, Friend Computer will lock us up in a Joyful Liberation of Guilt re-education hostel. Clarence was flabbergasted. But Im happy! Ryan sneered. You would be. Hey! You traitors ready to give up? Nyet! You are beink traitor! The Equipment Guy was a large RED citizen with short black hair and a handlebar moustache. You have shot Loyalty Officer! Thats because he shot our Happiness Officer. She was a mutant. The Hygiene Officer was also RED, but she had longer hair and a shorter moustache. She had a suspicious wart. While the Troubleshooters argued, Clarence felt a familiar stirring over his chest, in the secret pocket of his jumpsuit. He turned away in alarm. The squirming passed. He cleared his throat and tried to sound authoritative. Team Leader Ryan-O, I am YELLOW Clearance. By the power granted to me by Mandates TCPM 006.03/a, CPPM 100.14/a, and ISTM 008.31/a through /e, I order you to sign my SETBE form to conclude this exercise. Ryan chuckled. Right. Like I give a bots tread about your clearance. I have a gun. You dont. That means I set this meetings agenda. Understood? Clarence gawped. Could these walls dissolve, the floor dissipate, all Alpha Complex vanish like a dream? You must follow my orders. Its a mandate. Mandates are, arefor following. The vendobot beeped. Maybe hes too hungry to think straight. Buy him a Pistachio-Basil flavored Yum-Yum Processed Algae Bar. A grenade labeled R&D landed near them. Ryan pulled Clarence to him as a shield. But the grenade only wheeped and puffed smoke, then lay inert. Their noses a finger-breadth apart, Ryan-O glared. Forget your stupid form. There are more important things to worry about. Twin laser shots drowned Clarences strenuous tut-tutting. This was so typical. In the field, non-assigned jobs always popped up, and he couldnt finish the real job until he tackled those first. A

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job assigned in a job done, he thought. And theres only one way to finish this jobstart and finish another one. Besides, in his personal job log he could add Improved Troubleshooter team efficiency by stopping Troubleshooters shooting each other. He looked across the room and sighed. Fine. Gathering himself, he jumped over the fallen vendobotjust as it launched a Yum-Yum bar at 70kph. The processed algae snack hit his stomach, knocking him to one side. A laser shot flashed through the point where hed been standing. He gasped for breath. That hurt! The vendobot beeped. One credit, please. I didnt order anything! I heard you say Fine, which I logically took to mean an order for one Mostly Salmon-Flavored Yum-Yum bar. Clarence stood up, ran, tripped over his own feet, and fell. Another laser shot struck harmlessly nearby. He scrambled to his feet and, under heavy fire, dancedor arhythmically bungled across the bodies. Reaching the far barricade, he clambered over and landed, breathless, beside the Equipment Guy hiding there. Excuse me, Clarence said between breaths. You are in violation of many mandates. Would you like me to list them? The big man stared. How vere you to be dodgink all my shots? Pardon me? Is no pardonink! Glorious comrades instruct me to be killink everyone in room! YELLOW capitalist pigdog is, by definink, more of everyone than RED capitalist pigdogs! Leaving that aside, and taking these violations as read, you are required to stop this mayhem and turn yourself in to Internal Security, by reason of Mandate The Equipment Guy roused himself. Nyet, comrade. This to be derailink Troubleshooter mission as part of Glorious Five-Year Plan to be destroyink Computer and turnink Alpha Complex into vorkers paradise! Something underneath Clarences shirt squirmed, poking the yellow fabric. Shhh, Clarence whispered. The squirm grew stronger. The Equipment Guy pointed with his pistol. Uhhvhat is beink that?

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From the neck of Clarences yellow jumpsuit popped a small white mouse. AAAAAaaaaaaa! The Equipment Guy leaped to his feet and backed away. Monster mutant beastie what comink from Outdoors! Jumping up during a firefight is usually unwise, as Team Leader Ryan-O promptly proved. The Equipment Guy pondered the smoking hole in his chest, then fell over dead. Bad, Ignatius! Bad mouse! Clarence grabbed for the mouse, but it slipped between his hands and scampered down his leg. It ran to the Hygiene Officer, who was busy aiming her pistol at Clarence. You little punk, I dont know how you killed aaaARGH! Mutant creature attack! She stood up to stomp the mouse. Continuing his tutorial in Why Jumpy Firefighting is Unwise, Ryan shot her in the head. When the mouse stopped to smell the dead traitors boots, Clarence scooped up the mouse and put it back in the pocket under his jumpsuits neckline. There, there. Whos a good citizen, who? Ryan kicked the vendobot and walked over to the barricade to confirm his kills. That could have been worse. Then again, I still dont know what my mission is about. Probably should have waited for the briefing to begin before shooting. Hey, Yellowpants? Clarence hated that term. Supposedly it originated after several CPU efficiency auditors, while following Troubleshooter teams into heavy action, wet themselves. The worst part? It was technically more efficient to say Yellowpants than CPU efficiency auditorfewer syllables. Yes, friend? Good work back there. Thanks for distracting them so I could take them out. Clarence-Y looked horrified. Me? But I I mean I just wanted to stop the fight so youd sign my SETBE form. He held out his PDC. Can you sign now? I need to kill you first. Ryan aimed his pistol square at Clarences narrow chest. Not only are you a filthy mutant, just like all my late teammatesyoure a witness. Me? Im not a mutant!

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For the love of Friend Computer, you scuttled across that kill zone without a scratch. How else would you explain such luck? It must be a strange mutant power. But if its any consolation, youre my hundredth kill. That means a medal in the Anti-Mutant Society. Bye, mutie! Ryan pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He pulled the trigger again, and again. Still nothing. The guns barrel was out of shots. Snarling, Ryan raised his fists Then: the chime. The chime is a pleasant, harmonious tone, not overly loud. The chime plays throughout a demarcated area, over all speakers, PA systems, PDCs, undercover Internal Security transceivers, and hearing aids. Optimized through extensive CPU-run multi-target, cross-clearance focus groups across multiple sectors, the chime is designed to connote happiness and tranquility. The chime may cause adrenaline spikes, outbreaks of mass accusation and confession, and, in certain circumstances, heart attacks. Clarence and Ryan stood silent, outwardly calm and not at all guilty-looking. Even the wisps of smoke seemed to pause. In a pleasant, measured tone, somewhere between an avuncular tenor, resonant with years of experience, and a young teacher on the verge of screaming, The Computer spoke: ATTENTION, CITIZENS CLARENCE-Y-SKL-1 AND RYAN-O-GTT-2. Hello, Friend Computer! they said in unison. MY RECORDS INDICATE SURPRISE EFFICIENCY AND TEAM BUILDING EXERCISE SEVEN-SEVENSTROKE-ALPHA-SIGMA-EN-DASH-FIVE IS NOW 20 MINUTES AND FIVE SECONDS LATE. PLEASE EXPLAIN THE TARDINESS. Clarence and Ryan looked at each other like two hungry INFRAREDs with only one bowl of Hot Fun. Ryan cleared his throat. Friend Computer, Troubleshooter Team Mandrake-945 has nothing to do with any efficiency

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exercise. Im on a mission of vital importance. Request permission to continue my mission. DENIED. YOUR MISSION HAS 18 HOURS, 34 MINUTES, AND 54 SECONDS REMAINING. THE SETBE IS 20 MINUTES, 35 SECONDS LATE. THE SETBE IS CURRENTLY PRIORITIZED. PLEASE EXPLAIN THE TARDINESS. Clarence stepped away from Ryan. Friend Computer, according to Mandate CPPM 387.66/c, all SETBEs conducted in the field with Troubleshooter teams require a signature from the teams leader, or closest equivalent should the leader in question be unable to sign due to loss of life, loyalty, or hands. I have been awaiting the signature for approximately 25 minutes. IS THE SETBE COMPLETE AND READY FOR A SIGNATURE, CITIZEN CLARENCE-Y? Yes, Friend Computer. DID YOU REMEMBER TO ASK FOR A SIGNATURE? Yes, Friend Computer. HAVE YOU PROVIDED A PEN, STYLUS, OR OTHER SUITABLE WRITING IMPLEMENT? Yes, Friend Computer. PROCESSING. PLEASE WAIT. Ryan and Clarence stared at each other. Hard. CITIZEN RYAN-O-GTT-2, YOU ARE GUILTY OF INSUBORDINATION FOR REFUSING TO PROMPTLY SIGN A COMPLETED SETBE FORM, LEADING TO AN UNACCEPTABLE INEFFICIENCY IN EFFICIENCY IMPROVEMENT. YOU ARE

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HEREBY FINED 50 CREDITS. PLEASE SIGN THE FORM IMMEDIATELY. IN ADDITION, YOU ARE GUILTY OF TREASON FOR FAILING TO COMPLY WITH THE WISHES OF A HIGHER-CLEARANCE CITIZEN IN THE COURSE OF THAT CITIZENS DUTIES. YOU ARE HEREBY SENTENCED TO PUBLIC CENSURE IN THE FORM OF A TATTOO READING DISLOYAL ON YOUR FOREHEAD, TO REMAIN FOR 90 DAYS. A DOCBOT HAS BEEN DISPATCHED TO PROVIDE THE TATTOO. PLEASE WAIT FOR THE DOCBOT AT YOUR CURRENT LOCATION. STANDARD TATTOO FEES AND OPTIONAL FRESH NEEDLE COSTS APPLY. Clarence held out the PDC and stylus. Ryan signed, initialed, and tongue-printed the form. If Id had any shots left, this would have gone down differently. Clarence looked puzzled. But that would violate another mandate. Through the open door rolled a docbot with attached ink gun and buzzsaw. Bing! Are you the double amputation you must be or I am in the wrong room and I am sure I am in the right room stay still please this will only hurt a lot bing! As Clarence shut the door and walked away, he heard the saw spin up. The War Against Treason, like the typical CPU procedure, takes many forms. Terminating traitors, arresting suspected traitors, and surveilling everyone else as potential traitorsthese are obvious. More insidious is inefficiency. As The Computer can objectively proveand nobody argues with The Computerthe waste of time, energy, supplies, or even thoughts is one step away from the murder of innocent Junior Citizens with a dull knife. Efficiency is happiness; waste is tantamount to treason. Thats why, after only 24 years of exploratory meetings, ad-hoc committees, fact-finding missions to vacation resorts, and a

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comprehensive 3,550-page INDIGO-Clearance report printed in a limited run of 255,000 copies and promptly shredded before it could be leaked, CPU created the Efficiency Improvement Task Force Agency Department Group Auditor Subgroup, the squadron of YELLOW-Clearance efficiency auditors colloquially known as Yellowpants. Yellowpants audit, assess, anatomize, repattern, perfect, and promulgate processes of every kind across Alpha Complex. Like white blood cellswell, yellow blood cellsthey flock to the infection of inefficiency and destroy it, always with an absolute minimum of time, energy, supplies, and thought. This protects Alpha Complex from the triple threat of Communism, mutants, and traitors. How efficiency protects Alpha Complex, exactly, is hotly debatedthough, if The Computer hears the debate, not for long. In a side corridor halfway back to the CPU Merit-N-Work center, Clarence stopped at an Anne-Gs Fried Dough Hut and purchased three Yummy Yeasty Yammies with Almost-Real Cheese Dust. Many empty tables surrounded the hut, and Clarence sat down at one near a wall. Then he bent over and quickly tied a knot in his shoelaces. Oh, bother, a knot. Mandate PLPM 755.92/g says I need to take care of that immediatelyand Mandate PLPM 775.92/h says I can take up to five minutes and 20 seconds to remedy the situation. He carefully positioned himself between the table and the security camera in the ceiling, spilled three Yammies on the floor, and let out the mouse. It sniffed, then dug in. Now you listen to me, Clarence said as he undid the knot. When I take you out walkies, you stay in the pocket. If Friend Computer sees you, itll probably terminate me. Worse, it might take you away. The mouse quickly finished Yammie One and started nibbling on Two. Well, yes, it must know about you already. Friend Computer tends to know everything. But if it knows, wouldnt it have taken action already? Keeping you is in direct violation of Mandates

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ISPM 449.20/r, HPPM 028.11/v, CPPM 878.90/p, TSPM 402.99/g, and maybe even AFPM 1033.21/c, depending on your definition of the term hallucination. Which really should be codified, dont you think? The mouse sniffed the air. Good question. Inasmuch as Friend Computer knows and hasnt taken action, does that mean it must support the idea of me keeping you? Well, Mandate CPPM 002.07/a says orders from The Computer trump all mandates, which only makes sense. What kind of leadership could The Computer provide if it had to follow its own laws? For a moment Clarence wondered if The Computer could issue an order that trumped CPPM 002.07/a. He brushed away the thought. Still, we have to be careful. Some citizens may not follow mandates as closely as we do. And that means staying in the pocket when we go for walkies! Agreed? Finished with Yammie Two, the mouse crept toward Three. Good. Im sorry I yelled at you. Still friends? The mouse ate Yammie Three. Great! Id hate to lose my only friend. Now finish your lunch and its back in the pocket. This was our last job today, so we head back to CPU, change into our civilian clothes, and study todays mandate updates. And theres a documentary tonight on Forced Algae Growth. I hear it improves food supply 200 percent. Clarence tied his shoelace in a mandate-approved knot, carefully pocketed the mouse, and ate the last Yammies. My, he thought, it really does taste almost like real cheese. Or so he assumed.

2: Just when you think youre screwed, you really are

Mandate ISPM 008.57/c: A sectors Security Efficiency Rating (SER) shall be computed by dividing the number of solved cases by the total number of reported treasons (excluding reports designated Minor, Inexplicable, Minor, Silly, or Minor, Affected Low-Clearance Citizen as defined by Mandate ISPM 0014/a).

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Mandate ISPM 008.57/d: If a sectors SER falls below 0.64, Internal Affairs shall conduct a thorough review of the sectors leadership to remove contamination by Communists, mutants, terrorists, moles, voles, secret society agents, and other traitors and/or small mammals. Incompetence is not a source of contamination and may be ignored. The sweating, nervous citizen sat in a metal chair specifically designed to be uncomfortable. The nylon rope tying her tightly to the chair didnt help, nor the duct tape over her mouth. Neither did the sunlamp shining in her face for the past hour. This morning, Veronica-R-MRM-1 was a RED-Clearance Internal Security Parking Meter Auditor giving tickets to autocars parked illegally in the Conspicuous Consumption Is Patriotic Shopping Promenade. She liked her jobalthough the autocars she ticketed always argued too muchand she was proud to be RED. Sure, she wasnt an ORANGE surveillance camera repairperson, a YELLOW forms checker, a GREEN goon, or a higher-clearance Internal Security agent, but at least she wasnt INFRARED. Yes, Friend Computer had surely smiled on her, virtually speaking. Earlier this morning, while ticketing a luxury EJ-type autocar for parking on two INFRARED-Clearance pedestrians, Veronica had been forcibly detained by GREEN-Clearance IntSec goons, beaten up for their protection, rendered offsite in a traitor wagon, beaten again because they couldnt remember if theyd beat her before, and dragged to Floor 4 of YFG Sector Internal Security Central Station. Officially, the fourth floor was where people were taught communication skills. Everyone knew what really happened on the fourth floor, and because they knew, everyone denied they knew. Though it was the busiest floor in the building, no one admitted visiting. People went to the fourth floor in groups and returned in smaller groups. Usually one or two from each group never returned. Now Veronica sat tied to a chair bolted to the concrete floor of Communication Skills room 46. Panic was not the word; wetting

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oneself while screaming oneself hoarse behind the duct tape wasthough technically thats a phrase. She heard the door open but couldnt turn around. Footsteps drew near; the door shut; still she saw no one. Sweat rolled down her forehead and stung her eyes. She tried to say, Ill confess to anything you want! Im loyal! She actually said, Uhhuhmumph umumumh uhhunnph! Ummurmm! A tall, heavily muscled man strode into view. He wore a tailored deep-blue jumpsuit with a blue badge pinned to the front pocket. His hair was somewhere between blonde and white, cut so short the difference didnt matter. Veronica frozeeasy, given she couldnt move anyway. Like every worker of every clearance at Central, she knew this man, and like every worker, she feared him: the BLUE-Clearance station commander, Ben-B-HTY-4. Ben-B took his Personal Digital Companion from a padded pocket and set it on Veronicas lap. He pressed a button. The PDC played back an interrogation hed conducted the previous week. This is an interview, said his recorded voice, with a citizen of interest in Case Number X-Ray-Foxtrot-Spam-Wiener one-seven-six-stroke-eleven. This citizen was volunteered to compete against others for a chance at answering our questions about Most Wanted Traitor Number One, Superstar Pirate. Answers will be elicited from the lucky winner using standard enhanced-interrogation techniques, which Strange buzzing and gurgling noises rolled over the rest of his words, followed quickly by screams. Veronica stared with wide eyes at the PDC, then up at BenBs smiling face. She had no idea what to say, or in her case to mmmrrmmph. Her heart sank further as she saw Regina-G-AFD-5. BenBs GREEN-Clearance second in command wore an identical jumpsuit, a bit more full along the waist, colored pale green with a deep green badge. Her black hair was cut short in typical Alpha Complex fashioni.e., avoiding a particular fashion so as not to stand out. Though not technically forbidden, individuality often meant treason, and treason always meant trouble. The two officers retreated to a far corner. Veronica, to no ones surprise, stayed where she was.

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She wondered what was going on. The recorded interrogation covered Ben and Reginas voices so she couldnt hear them. She took a long while to realize the corollary: Neither would any bugs. To anyone listening in Internal Affairs, nothing was going on except a routine tutorial in communication skills. Ben asked Regina, Where do we stand on Operation Site-NSleight? Regina knew the cameras were broken. Regina knew Bens PDC recording masked her voice. Even so, Regina was nervous. She was already up to her neck in fines and couldnt afford further debt. Yet here she was, discussing treason. We hacked the Report Treason For Valuable Prizes site. We stole the identities of 32 citizens before Internal Affairs noticed. We pulled in a known hacker and taught him some communication skills until he confessed. We brainscrubbed him and re-educated him as a line cook. Good, said Ben. Send me the list of IDs. Ill recruit those citizens to a contestsomething about seeing whos the most loyal. Standard reward, credits; standard penalty, termination. Being more loyal will raise their loyalty ratings, which will improve their credit ratings. Ill max out their credit. When I send you the word, arrest them for suspicious financial activity and have them all brainscrubbed. Ill funnel the credits to the usual accounts. In the background, the recorded screaming gave way to a rambling confession of rolling blackouts, fluoridated water, and a quintuple kidnapping. What about the winner? Regina asked. Its not about winning or losing, but the competition. Thats what creates the best results. So brainscrub the winner too. Next, what about Lien-N-Clean? After we took out a million-credit insurance policy on the old Central Station building, a Troubleshooter team showed up to investigate why we wanted the policy. We gave the Troubleshooters free grenades for their investigation; Im told pieces of the team are still being scrubbed from the briefing room. Since the building was originally a Research and Design

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lab, weve declared a three-block radius (Regina checked her notes) Unsafe Due To Runaway Experiment Into Things Humanity Was Never Meant To Know. We cant use the budget line for the building to launder credits any more, but the 500,000 credits we previously assigned for renovations are clean. My report is ready to go. Youre blaming Pirate for the buildings loss? Right. Give the word and Ill demolish it in a flashy explosion, then file both the report and the claim. The recorded confession devolved into crying and gibbering over a background of mechanical noisesgrinding, buzzing, and a high-pitched drill. For a moment Ben seemed to be daydreaming. Then he returned to the matter at hand. Consider the word given. And Operation Smash-N-Cash? Yesterday Armed Forces discovered last weeks theft from Weapon Supply Cache SECDEF-332 and reported it to The Computer. The Computer told us to investigate. This morning we blamed a traitor working with the infamous Superstar Pirate. I created eyewitness reports and images that put both Pirate and the traitor at the scene. I matched the Pirate description we previously established. Now Ben was paying full attention, which always unnerved Regina. A co-conspirator? Why? I thought we should have someone to arrest. Superstar Pirate obviously isnt available, so I grabbed some poor sapjust a RED meter maid. I sent her to 4 for communication skills, and Regina broke off. She turned to look at the chair. I suppose that will do. And the weapons? Um, is she? Never mind, I dont need to know. We got 9,000 credits on the INFRARED Market. Ill launder them through a shell firm tomorrow. Bens attention drifted to the audio recording, where he was demanding information about Superstar Pirate. Hed arrested, questioned, and terminated many, many people for aiding this sectors Public Enemy #1. Enhanced interrogation had revealed many, many leads to the racketeers base of operations.

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It testified to the effectiveness of IntSec interrogations that so many citizens would squeal in such detail on a traitor who didnt exist. Superstar Pirateas only Ben and Regina knewwas a bogey, a strawman. Ben had created him whole to take the blame for his own traitorous schemes. And the whole plan was working brilliantly. Ben-B was rich even by the lofty standards of BLUE Clearance. All his enemies across the clearance spectrum, from drug-happy INFRARED drones to rival BLUE officers, had been successfully and permanently dispatched. These days even his INDIGO boss left him alone. He had arrived. Sure, hed left behind a pile of innocent bodiesthough then again, was anyone truly innocent?but that was the way to climb high. As for the officers and low-clearance idlers working under him, he looked on them with a magnanimous heart. His contests brought out their best; by Bens standards, few management techniques worked so well. His competitors, pitted against each other for advancement or self-preservation, unearthed skills and internal resources theyd never known they had. Some competitors even survived. Regina, for one. Ben, I was wondering if I couldwell, if I could have more than my usual cut this time. Uh-oh. Regina might need to be encouraged with another contest. Why? Twenty percent isnt good enough? IntSec has started charging interest on my old fines. If I dont pay them soonwell, you know how interest rates work. Regina was useful, no doubt about thatbut this was sounding like trouble. Id like to help you. Ben reached out and rested his hands heavily on her shoulders. Youve been loyal to me, and trustworthy as well. Trust is important, Regina-G. An extra hundred credits. Regina looked away. Thats better than nothing, I suppose, but Agreed, then. Anything else? She showed Ben her PDC. We have a potential problem. One of my packet sniffers in the Internal Affairs server found this C-mail.

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He read. He frowned, chuckleda tense chucklethen raised his eyebrows. Forty-eight percent? When did our Security Efficiency Rating fall to 48%? Every time we have Superstar Pirate get away with something, thats a crime we dont solve. Internal Affairs probably thinks were working with him. Keep readingyoull see they want to investigate. What should we do? Ben stared. Why didnt you hack the SER to raise it above 64? You have the skills. Regina just looked away. Sloppy. I shouldnt have to tell you everything. Consider that hundred-credit bonus rescinded. He thrust her PDC back into her hands. Butbutnot a problem! We just need to arrest, convict, and terminate the notorious traitor Superstar Pirate. That will bring our SER above 80 at least. Eighty-seven. I checked. But how do we arrest someone who doesnt exist? Waityou dont mean? She backed away. Relax. Youre more important to me alive. Besides, that would raise questions about my competence. My number two, Superstar Pirate all along? No, we need someone completely ignorant. Ben mused aloud. He fails to confess even under interrogationwe say Only someone as strong-willed as Superstar Pirate could maintain his innocencethe lack of evidence is all the evidence we need! Im brilliant! What have we said Superstar Pirate looks like? Regina thumbed through her PDC. Tall, skinny, short wavy hair, prominent nose, traitorous gleam in his eye, traitorous laugh, traitorous gait, traitorous I get it. Find a patsy who matches the description. Make sure his record is suspiciously clean. Update the Superstar Pirate description with more features that match his. Then send a squad of goons to arrest him. Today! Ill take it from there. The PDCs recording turned from harsh words to manic screaming. Regina agreed and left quickly, avoiding the RED in the chair. Ben listened to the recording, daydreaming again. He walked to the chair and leaned over Veronica. Her eyes were red and puffy. Ben couldnt tell where the sweat ended and the tears began. I do love a good questioning. Theres such a competitive element.

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I ask, they dodgeI feint, they parryI drill, they faintgood stuff. She nodded. Know why I used this recording? We disabled the cameras but not the microphones. Disabling both would be too suspicious. He pulled two cables from his jumpsuits pocket and plugged them into a battery pack on his belt. The cables ended in alligator clips, one black, one red. Hrmph mrr mrphr! Sort of. Red clip on one earlobe, black on the other. Operation Smash-N-Cash. I know youd confess to it. Am I right? She nodded violently. Good, because you already did. Your confession is ready to go. But I cant take the risk of Internal Affairs teaching you to communicate. You might tell them about this private meeting. Andyou know, I wouldnt tell this to just anybodyInternal Affairs frightens me. No, really. Internal Affairsthat would be bad. She just looked at him. But youyoure helping to prevent that. Ben stepped back. Be proudyoure raising this precincts SER. He pressed a button on his belt. On the recording, the interrogation was ending as the subject had an unfortunate heart attack. Ben-B murmured, Its all a competition. When the recording stopped, he removed the wires and called for cleanup.

3: Locker rooms are rarely this interesting

Mandate CPPM 349.62/e: All CPU workers on duty are encouraged to keep a small edible snack on their person, so that in food-deficit-related emergencies (including but not limited to low blood sugar or obvious stomachal borborygmus) they can quickly eat said snack and remain on duty without breaks as defined by Efficiency Improvement Directive $UPDATED_EID_NUM.

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Mandate CPTM 449.89/a: In Mandate CPTM 349.62/e, the word encouraged is redefined as mandatory and the word snack is redefined as FunFoods brand soylent-based edible product. This mandate is sponsored by FunFoods. Buy FunFoods today and avoid arrest! Clarence-Ytall, skinny, short wavy hair, prominent nose, no gleam of any kind in either eyereached the Merit-N-Trust Work Center with Ignatius quietly asleep in his hidden pocket. MeritN-Trust CPU was a service firm that organized work assignments for CPU. The loyal workers at Merit-N-Trust took pride in their job, mostly because they didnt have to do it themselves; they told parties of the second part to do jobs dreamt up by remote and anonymous parties of the third part. Some called it lazy; Merit-N-Trust called it workflow management. The building itself towered ominously in the popular Alpha Complex architectural style of Built Cheap And Budget Surplus Pocketed. The dark gray asbestos-crete walls, once smooth, showed an efficient space-filling network of spidery cracks and shallow holes. A lack of windowsor, more positively, a vigorous abolition of anything windowlikekept workers inside from losing efficiency by looking out and remembering a life beyond their cubicle. Merit-N-Trust had awarded the contract for the Work Center to the bidder with the largest voluntary monetary display of gratitude for inclusion in the bidding process. Build Em Now HPD, a licensed construction firm, won the contract and quickly subcontracted to whomever could cover the costs of their previous display of gratitude plus a little something extra. This process was iterated seven times until Merit-N-Trust inadvertently subsubsubsubsubsubsubsubcontracted their own contract. They promptly bought, for 1 credit, a foreclosed property scheduled for demolition and, with minor renovations (such as bricking up the windows) and not-as-minor gratitude payments to the local building inspector, the facility was declared safe for citizens of YELLOW Clearance or lower. Merit-N-Trust paid itself the two million credits allotted for construction and used the profits to pay for a management seminar in the pleasure domes of VDF Sector.

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Passing a scrubot in valiant battle against graffiti (People called Yellowpants, they go, the house), Clarence presented his ID to the guardbot in the crumbling archway. Clarence-Y-SKL-1, he said cheerfully, currently assigned to this Merit-N-Trust Work Center as a CPU efficiency auditor. I am returning from a successful field assignment. I am not a Communist, mutant, nor traitor of any kind. I request permission to enter. Guardbot LAR/E 0058466975, a tall metal monster with more weapons than most people have teeth, looked down at Clarence with six eyes. Welcome citizen please present your identification ten seconds until indiscriminate weapons fire. Clarence looked at the laminated card in his hand, then back at the bot. He waved the card frantically. Here! ID here! Right here! One of the bots eyes glowed red and a stuttering red line ran over Clarence-Ys card. Error scanning identification possible traitor six seconds remaining. Clarence jumped up as high as he could, bringing the card to the guardbots bristle of lenses. The bot counted down to one, then beeped. Identification accepted welcome you may enter this facility. Clarence sighed and put his ID away. See you tomorrow, Larry, he said as he walked past. Citizen Clarence-Y-SKL-1, guardbot LAR/E said, this unit appreciates being allowed to simulate scanning failure to test security parameters guard duty can be uneventful and the occasional simulations maintain integrity of software routines should a real emergency occur. Not a problem, Larry. TSPM 331.71/c says citizens should help bots feel appreciated. Besides, with all your guns on safety, what could happen? Safety. Guardbot LAR/E fell silent. Its weapons clicked softly, once each. Affirmative weapons were on safety all along nothing irrecoverable could happen have a nice day. Clarence entered the center and began the improved Merit-NTrust employee return procedures: 1. He logged in at a CPU work station with his assigned name and password;

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2. wrote his name and return time on the paper sheet hanging on the wall above the terminal; 3. waved at the RED-Clearance citizen behind a circular desk who wrote his name and ID down on another sheet; 4. rubbed his face with SPF 75 anti-melanoma cream; 5. put his head in the Safe But Accurate Retina, Tongue, Teeth, and Widows Peak Scanner; 6. signed his name on another sheet indicating he had read health warnings about the scanner; 7. recited Happiness Hymn #44 (The YELLOW Mellow Fellow) into a voice analyzer; 8. signed the form permitting CPU to sell the recording of his recitation to other firms for use in commercials and jingles; 9. signed another form stating he had signed the four previous forms; 10. signed the Form Revision Form stating it was three previous forms, not four; 11. slid his identification card through a reader; 12. verified the ID card he currently possessed had the correct name, picture, current residence, three former residences, signature, fingerprint, tongueprint, voiceprint, and urine pH level; 13. signed a form verifying he was correct when verifying the ID card was correct; 14. signed a form agreeing he was free from mutation, treason, unhappy thought, or weird dreams involving crisp apples; 15. and completed a brief five-page survey about the preceding employee return procedures. Clarence felt proud he himself had cut three minutes off these procedures. Citizens spent less time waiting once the health warning was placed after scanner use. Now officially returned from the field, he went straight to the locker room to change into civilian clothes. Although both outfits comprised identical yellow jumpsuits and black shirts, Mandate PLPM 100.45/p required citizens to own (and therefore purchase) backup clothes. In the locker room, Merit-N-Trust had gone for a bright and cheerful design plan. Studies showed bright and cheerful improved worker efficiency and decreased the chances of a

PARANOIA / Y1 Traitor Hangout preview / 22

disgruntled maniac killing co-workers. After 20 years without maintenance, the room still technically qualified as bright and cheerful as defined by several recent mandates with grandfather clauses. Faded yellow paint covered the walls and lockers with legally-defined cheer; the myriad rusted dents in the lockers doors were defined as lending character (HPPM 620.80/a) and showcasing their utility (PLPM 335.63/e). The original steel-slat benches had been scheduled for replacement with expensive upholstered seats, but at the last minute had been preserved as designated historic seating technology (RDPM 888.38/t). A dozen efficiency auditors filled the space, efficiently changing out of their yellow work jumpsuits and efficiently chatting about the days assignments, pausing at each change of subject to assess, according to Mandate CPPM 640.91/f, whether discussion of a given assignment was treason. This lent a strange staccato to the conversations. Clarence proceeded to his locker at the far end of the room. He paused mid-step. The locker door was covered with blobs of wet toilet paper. He ignored the snickering from the other Yellowpants. When he reached his locker, the snickering erupted into outright laughter. Whats the matter, Clarence-Y? said Geraldine-Y-PRI-4. Something wrong with your locker? Clarence didnt turn around. Wasting toilet paper is against Mandate PLPM 208.99/a. A large, heavyset Yellowpants named Joe-Y-GGT-3 pushed forward. And being a boring vat-head is against Mandate YOU SUCK! He sought high-fives from the others, who complied mostly because they feared what Joes meaty hands could do to them should they be left un-high fived. Clarence turned in confusion. But there is no mandate named YOU SUCK. Mandate names follow established nomenclature: The first two initials of the service group issuing the mandate, followed by PM for permanent mandate or TM for temporary mandate, then a three-number designation based on A wad of toilet paper hit him in the face. Above the laughter someone shouted, Whats the mandate for getting wet toilet paper off your face?

PARANOIA / Y1 Traitor Hangout preview / 23

PLPM 208.99/k and ISTM 1092.44/a, although HPPM 776.72/a technically applies given that the paper is stuck to my forehead. The laughter petered out, and someone even checked the mandates on his PDC. Not true! Thats not a hat. HPPM776.72/b defines a hat as anything worn above the nose but below the top of the head. This is especially true given that PLPM 502.67/c requires hats and toilet paper be made from the same material, and that CPPM 287.70/h allows use of hats as toilet paper if the stall currently being used has no paper and no INFRARED citizen is within earshot. While everyone checked his or her PDC, a meek silence fell. Joe moved a step closer to Clarence. Must be easy to memorize all them mandates, what with having no friends. Although it would be nice to have friendsI supposeI have used my free time productively, as Friend Computer expects. Besides, memorizing mandates isnt hard. You can memorize every mandate applying to Junior Citizens before you leave Mandatory Training, Education, and Obedience School. And of course its a pleasure to read every issue of MandateToday to keep up. Did you see the last issue? CPU is talking about merging CPPM 410.23/b and AFPM 981.11/c! Can you believe it? What would we do with all those grenades and lubricants? Joe took another step closer. I can think of something. Clarence belatedly realized Joe was presenting the prospect of violence. He backed up against his locker. Remember, Joe-Y. Intra-team violence is only allowed in Troubleshooter teams, and then only in cases of real, somewhat real, or reasonably imaginary treason. Oh yeah? What about Mandate CPPM 443.11/p? Clarences high brow wrinkled. Petbot owners may not name their pet Sit and play the Come-Here-Sit joke until its loyalty processor burns out? I meant five-forty-three! Though the existence of Things Humanity Was Not Meant To Know shall not be disputed, this does not apply to Research & Design personnel? Argh! Joe clawed the air. It waswaitfour-fifty-three! CPPM 453.11/p!

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A citizen acting like a smug know-it-all may be given an emergency unscheduled beating by local citizens of equal or higher clearance if at least ten citizens present and of equal or higher clearance agree it is necessary or at least a fun way to pass the time? That. All in favor A new voice: The camera is on. In Alpha Complex, few other statements can so arrest the attention. As one, every face turned to the far corner of the ceiling, where a security cameras red light, dark for months, now glowed bright. The newbie, a tall, athletic, brown-haired, red-cheeked woman, smiled a helpful smile. I noticed it was broken, so I fixed it under Mandate TSTM 073.33/b. Clarence shook his head. That would have required a completed form TS5040-EZ signed by our supervisor, a Power Services supervisor, and a random Technical Services worker present at the location of said broken surveillance machinery. And Tech Serv workers are not allowed in here, which is why that camera has been broken for years. He smiled at the newcomer with indulgent sympathy, as to a wayward Junior Citizen. A common mistake. The new woman stood firm. But this location counts as important to the safety and security of all life as we know it under Mandate AFPM 293.96/v. Clarences eyes widened. Which allows bypassing Technical Services forms for repairs of items defined under PSPM 221.60/s. Yes! You can fix the camera yourself. Brilliant. He gazed with admiration on the new Yellowpants. She was short, barely 1.5 meters, and her Perfect-Fit brand regulation jumpsuit was rolled at the wrists and ankles. (Disclaimer: Perfect-Fit fits all citizens perfectly but may fit some citizens more perfectly than others.) Rich brown hair framed her face in ungraceful curveshaircuts by jackobots reprogrammed from active military duty to hair salons were rarely attractive but always efficientand her green eyes looked large and clear. Clarence-Y would have found her attractive, were he not on a steady diet of drugs designed to suppress such feelings.

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Joe-Y walked up to the camera, straining his neck to look directly at it. In the spirit of loyalty and friendship, I shall forgive you, Clarence-Y, of yourumstupidity and stuff. He turned away from the camera and mouthed the words Youre dead, though his poor elocution made it possible he was saying Youre wet, Our fed, Ker-ped! or conceivably even Youre RED, which would have been rude even for Joe. He made a complicated and possibly rude hand gesture. Then everyone turned back to his or her locker. Clarence began taking down the toilet paper blobs. Thank you, Citizen? Jenny-Y-TOV-1. I just transferred from a BVC Sector surveillance systems firm. BVC Sector? Didnt their reactor go critical last week, flooding the entire sector with radiation? Why do you think I was transferred? They told me I received a nice, healthy dose of radiation for my security clearance. Theres an empty locker next to yours. Would you mind if I took it as my own? No. I cant? No, I mean, yes, you can. No means yes in this sector? No, no means no. So you have to use no twice to mean no? Then a single no means yes? No! Ah, I get it. You just agreed that a single no means yes. What does yes mean, then? Wait. Yes means wait? This is a strange sector. Clarence collected the last toilet paper blob from his locker. This is a misunderstanding. No means no, yes means yes, and yes, you can have this locker. Jenny appeared to think about it for a moment before opening up her locker. Probably best to let that drop. Ive never worked as an efficiency auditor before. Um, I hope you dont mind this question butwhy are we called Yellowpants?

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Returning from the trash bin in the corner, Clarence shrugged. Not sure, really. Some say its because only YELLOW-Clearance CPU citizens can become efficiency auditors. Others believe its due to our bright yellow work jumpsuits. Troubleshooters think it comes fromah, an unscheduled urination event in the face of danger. But thats Troubleshooters for you. Jenny nodded. Arent you going to change? Clarence-Y looked around. Most of the others had already changed and left. In a minute. No need to rush. Jenny-Y shrugged her shoulders and put some personal effects in the lockerher PDC, an Official Teela OMalley Fan Club CalendarYear of The Computer 214, and a small motivational poster (cute scrubot looking at giant wall covered with graffiti; caption: GET STARTED ALREADY! The job isnt going to finish itself). Clarence watched the other Yellowpants until they left. Arent you going too? he asked Jenny. Yes, butto be honest, Im a little nervous about working here. Those other efficiency auditors seemed a bit intense, if you follow me. I was hoping we could get a cup of HappyKaff or TeaSir. My treat! You can tell me all about being a Yellowpaer, an efficiency auditor. Clarence looked confused. You want to spend timewith me? Yes. You dont seem like the others, that bunch ofperfectly normal and loyal citizens, by which I mean you are normal and loyal too, only more so. Ignatius began to squirm in his pocket. Clarence quickly opened his locker so the door would hide his chest. Well, thats good. Great. Fine. Why dont you meet me at the Rejuvenated Citizen Drink Shop on the corner of Armed Forces Parade Trail and Loyalty In the Face of Temptation Boulevard? Its just around the corner. Sounds good. She closed her locker and started to leave. Whats that? He looked down and froze. Ignatius had crawled halfway out of his pocket and rested its front paws on the top of the locker door. It sniffed the air and looked around.

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Nothing! Lurching around like a scrubot with a bad gyro, Clarence grabbed Ignatius and pushed him back down. Theres nothing. Absolutely, one hundred percent nothing. In fact, theres such a lack of thing there, Mandate RDPM 767.90/g would permit R&D scientists to study how one segment of spacetime could have so little there. Jenny smiled. Dont worry, I didnt really fix the security camera. I just turned on the little red light. I didnt have the tools to connect it to the Internal Security network. Can I see it? Youyou arent horrified? Scared out of your mind? Ready to turn and run for the nearest confession booth to report a violation of nearly two dozen separate mandates? Why would I? Ignatius was squirming harder. Clarence was having trouble keeping his pocket stuffed. Well, itswill you stay down! Its just that when other peoplestop itwhen others seebad mousesee Ignatius, theyre terrified. The mouse squeezed through Clarences hands and jumped atop the locker door. It stared at Jenny and sniffed the air. Jenny bent closer to look. She gingerly reached out with a finger and carefully rubbed the mouses back. The mouse sniffed the finger and, deciding it wasnt edible or dangerous, ignored it. His name is Ignatius? Yes, but I cant tell if its male or female. Putting two tiny paws on Jennys finger, the mouse pulled itself up on its hind legs. Then it hopped into Jennys hand. I think it likes me. Yes? Yes! Clarence hardly knew what to be amazed at. Himself (still not arrested and/or terminated) topped the list, but not much higher than finding a citizen who liked Ignatius instead of cowering in fear from the Dangerous Creature from the Outdoors. The mouse ran up Jennys arm and sniffed her chest. What are you doing, little guy? Thats right, Ive got a snack in there, dont I? From her jumpsuit pocket she pulled a Soylent Yellow Protein Crunch Bar. Would you like a bite? She opened the wrapping. Without even sniffing, the mouse bit deep. Clarence managed a smile. Soylent is his favorite snack, although he likes Yummy Yeasty Yammies too. Feeling

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uncomfortable, he took the protein bar and used it to lure the mouse back to his pocket. I need to get him home. We only go for walkies every now and then. Hes so cute! Can I see him again sometime? Umm. Im not sure when that would be, butyoure not a member of the Sierra Club, are you? She frownedwas she being evasive? I dont think The locker room doors exploded. Dust and smoke billowed into the room. GREEN Internal Security goons swept into the room single-file, winding between benches like a giant laser-armed snake. They all wore standard IntSec uniforms: shiny, domed helmet with one large optical lens and a rigid chinstrap, greasy-looking reflective armor, black aramid vests, GREEN-Clearance laser rifles, black elbow and knee pads, and dark green combat boots. However, they lacked shin guards. The first goon slammed his shin into a bench. Oww! he said, holding his shin and jumping on one foot in pain. Behind him, the rest of the goons yelled, Oww! and hoped on one foot too. The lead goon noticed. Stop! Youre supposed to follow the person in front of you, not copy him! The goons chorused, Stop! Youre supposed to follow the person in front of you, not copy him! No! Follow is not the same as copy, you idiots! No! Follow is not the same as copy, you idiots! Argh! Just secure the room. Argh! Just secure the room. The goons stood there, watching. Oh, you want to play that game? Oh, you want to play that game? Im a vat-headed, smelly traitor who hates The Computer! The other goons shot him dead. The second goon stepped over the body. Citizen ClarenceY-SKL-1? Clarence moved his head as little as possible while still technically nodding. He felt gladfervently gladthe mouse was deep in his secret pocket. I am Internal Security officer Donovan-G-MCN-5. Under new policies aimed at improving community relations, I am to ask how your day is going before striking you repeatedly about

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the head with my titanium truncheon. He pulled a dull metal pipe from his belt. Wait! Jenny stepped between them. Is the beating necessary? Well Its more of a tradition. IntSec is very traditionminded. Clarence raised his hands. If you dont ask me how my day is going, that means you dont have to start the traditional beating, right? The tradition follows the greeting. Skip the greeting and the beating is also skipped. Donovan-G paused thoughtfully. I never thought about that. But I like the beating! But you hate asking how the targets day is going, right? Thats true. Donovan-G rubbed his chin, or rather the chinstrap holding his monocular helmet on his head. Aha! What if I replaced the nice greeting with shouting and accusations of treason? Thats an even older IntSec tradition! It sounds better than the beating. Says you. Okay, ready? Ahem. On the ground, traitors! Now! Now! Now! Clarence and Jenny dropped to the floor. Clarence tried not to crush Ignatius. Citizen Clarence-Y-SKL-1, you are hereby designated a Citizen of Interest. Consider our storming of your location an invitation to accompany us to Internal Security Central Station for questioning, TeaSir, cookies, and truth drugs. This invitation is mandatory. Please allow us to escort you immediately, or we will reclassify you as a Former Citizen of Interest. Can I get up? No! Stay down! Stay down! Well, I would move much more efficiently if allowed to walk. Under Mandate ISPM 222.08/e crawling, unless you are a Junior Citizen, is limited to escaping fires, fitting through crawlspaces, or groveling. Im not sure taking a trip to Central Station qualifies as any of the three. Donovan-G looked at the IntSec goon holding the flamethrower. He almost said something, but decided against it. Okay, stand up. We dont have all day. Get moving, you.

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Clarence-Y stood, straightened his work suithed never gotten to changeand smiled at Jenny. A request for professional serviceshow exciting! I always wanted to work on IntSec efficiency. No offense to the citizens with high-powered weaponry here, but everyone knows IntSec could be more efficient. Every weapon safety clicked off, but Donovan-G held up a hand. Why do you say that? Why else would you want a CPU efficiency auditor? Donovan-G looked confused. A what? A, uh Clarence-Y sighed. You may perhaps know the term Yellowpants. Oh, them. Stuck-up rules lawyers, right? The other IntSec goons nodded enthusiastically, except the dead one, who seemed generally unenthused. Clarence let the slight pass, per HPPM 144.01/d. Jenny-Y, maybe we can get that drink when I come back? Jenny tried to smile. Clarence walked past the goons. Lets start with travel efficiency. How did you get here? Because if you took Intersector Highway 98, then you wasted at least ten minutes in traffic around Exit 101-Delta. Maintenance Route 44 is much more efficient, as long as you filed a form TS9000 at least a day in advance per Mandate TSTM 1055.62/r The IntSec goons hurried to keep up. Jenny went to her open locker and grabbed her PDC. She started an unpublicized gray-market application and entered a password. The screen flashed bright blue. She punched a number. A mark shimmered onscreena question mark. She whispered, We have a problem. Youve just read The Recruitment of Clarence-Y, presenting Chapters 1-3 (about the first one-sixth) of the PARANOIA novel Traitor Hangout by WJ MacGuffin. In the full-length 250-page novelavailable on Amazon and other ebook sitesafter an efficient stop at IntSec Central Station, Clarence-Y (in the guise of Superstar Pirate) is dispatched to an official Elective Activity

PARANOIA / Y1 Traitor Hangout preview / 31

or Pursuit clubhouse. His mission: infiltrate the notorious gang of vandals, Death Leopard. Who knew the EAP clubhouse is a notorious meeting place for nearly every secret society in Alpha Complex? Who knew an oblivious Yellowpants could somehow manage to infiltratemore or less by accidentnot only Death Leopard, but also Corpore Metal, the Frankenstein Destroyers, and the ultimate terrorist army, PURGE? Who could imagine one white mouse could survive all that, let alone possibly (not to spoil anything) be its cause? Now you know. Read Traitor Hangout to know more!

Traitor Hangout
by WJ MacGuffin ultravioletbooks.com

PARANOIA / Y1 Traitor Hangout preview / 32

Light-hearted stories of backstabbing, treachery, and Internal Security Friendly Tap Justification forms (to be completed after truncheon use). Based on the bestselling roleplaying game of fear and ignorance in a darkly satirical future, official PARANOIA novels are now available as ebooks from Ultraviolet Booksand theyre even for your security clearance. If you were looking for paranormal romance with dreamy dead guys well, citizen, it sounds like youre off your hormone suppressants. But if you like Douglas Adams and stories of know-it-all rules lawyers put through four kinds of hell (how could you not?), your friend The Computer requires you to enjoy PARANOIA. PARANOIA NOVELS ARE FUN. OTHER NOVELS ARE NOT FUN. READ PARANOIA.

The Computer is Your Friend, an introductory anthology Reality Optional by Gareth Hanrahan Traitor Hangout by WJ MacGuffin The Troubleshooter Rules trilogy by Allen Varney Book 1: Stay Alert Book 2: Trust No One (available spring 2012) Book 3: Keep Your Laser Handy (available summer 2012) Download them from the same fine site where you got this book, or visit us at ultravioletbooks.com.