FICTION - Infinite Debt

The train shuddered to a halt, its worn-out levitation systems groaning under the weight of too many passengers. Zarah pressed her face against the smudged window, squinting through the haze of pollution that perpetually shrouded the lower zones. Her watch beeped a warning:

THIRD ZONE ENTERED. PENALTIES MAY APPLY.

The train doors hissed open, releasing a flood of passengers onto the platform. Zarah pulled on her filtration mask and shuffled forward with the crowd.

Near the station exit, a group of children, their clothes threadbare and faces gaunt, huddled around a damaged Red Cross Autodoc. One of them was trying to hack the machine’s diagnostic circuit: a girl no older than ten with her left arm ending in an interface port. The cheap electronics sparked, and the girl yelped.

An Enforcement drone buzzed overhead, shell pulsing red. “Unauthorized medical access detected. Debt penalty applied.” 

Zarah’s hand twitched towards her pocket, where she kept a few precious med-chips for emergencies. Was this an emergency, though, or just some kids stealing? 

A notification pinged: her target’s file, automatically uploaded. 

Name: Shanice Vega

Profession: Former debt-algorithm engineer

Insurance policy: $10,000,000 

Current debt: $15,000,000

Estimated time to repayment: Infinite 

Location: The Vertical

Low-res holographic adverts flickered all over the Vertical’s forty-seven levels of repurposed plastic and carbon fiber.

Your dream matters! Enter the Debt Cancelation Lottery!

Your value never ends! Upload your avatar to the Economic Continuity Initiative!

At the base of the precarious heap, Enforcement drones had surrounded a family. Citizens hurried past, eyes downcast, neural interfaces blinking. 

The father pleaded with the drones. “Please, we just need more time. My daughter, she’s near graduation—”

The lead drone’s sleek shell was cold-sapphire-blue, its voice crisp. “Mr. Singh, your Third Zone dwelling license has been revoked. I’ll guide you to a relocation center. Please don’t make difficulties, or you’ll force me to add another penalty to your family debt profile.”

Zarah pushed past the drones and started climbing.

Zarah’s legs burned from the climb to the forty-seventh floor, where a bootleg loan company was operating out of a storage unit. Scribbled above the door was: 

Liberty Finance Cooperative

Micro-loans, not pesky drones. Try us!

A petite, dark-haired woman wearing blue shorts watched Zarah as she stood at the top of the stairs, gasping. “You back to shut us down again?” she asked. 

“Does… Shanice… live here?” Zarah gasped.

The woman pointed to a unit at the end of the walkway. The door was ajar, and the sound of someone retching was coming from inside.

“Ms. Vega?” Zarah called, pushing the door open to find Vega crouched over a bucket, her body wracked with spasms. An obsolete interface jutted from the base of her skull, its status lights flashing as she vomited.

Vega looked up. “If you’re here about my debt, I’ve already sold everything. My organs. My avatar. The whole shebang.” Her eyes were bloodshot.

“Ms. Vega, I’m here to help. Our customer options program—”

Vega laughed, a broken sound that turned to coughing. “I’m already grinding twenty hours a day. My baby girl can’t afford school, so she’ll inherit my debt with no way to pay it except turning tricks. I can’t even buy a ticket for the debt cancellation lottery. What options I got, for real?”

“I—” 

There was a thump on the door. “Enforcement.”

Panic flashed across Vega’s face. “No, no, no—”

The door burst open, and an Enforcement drone floated in. “Shanice Vega? Your debt—”

Zarah stepped between the drone and Vega. “Zarah Delacruz. Elysium Trust Finance. I have priority.” She held up her ID for scanning. “Check your logs.”

The drone lowered its manipulators. “Zarah Delacruz, you have ten minutes to conclude priority debt rescheduling.” 

“Outside please. Client confidentiality.”

The drone backed up, pushing the broken door shut.

Zarah delved into her bag and brought out two small gadgets. She activated the first, the signal jammer. Its green light indicated sixty seconds of unmonitored communication before the surveillance system adapted.

Vega looked at the jammer. “Wh—”

Zarah kept her voice low. “Alex Rivera says hello.”

Vega’s eyes widened. “Alex—”

“There’s no time. Please, just listen. He’s hacked your records and added a life insurance policy from your former employer. It’s worth ten million dollars. You’re dying anyway, months to live.”

The jammer’s light blinked. Thirty seconds left.

“He says he’s sorry — this was all he could do. It has to look like an accident. Think of your daughter.” She held out the second gadget. “Go to the window and hold this to your interface.”

The light on the jammer turned red. Zarah took a breath, raised her voice. “Sign here, please.”

Vega, tears streaming, grabbed the gadget, moved towards the window, and held it to her head. “Fuck it all,” she said and pressed the trigger.

Zarah dropped her bag, the noise as it clattered to the floor masking the sound of the gadget sparking against Vega’s interface. Vega jerked and folded over the windowsill, her eyes rolling upward. With a last effort, she threw the gadget out of the window.

The Enforcement drone stormed in, crackling red. “Stop!” 

But Vega was gone, screaming all the way down.

The drone turned to Zarah, manipulators like stilettos. “Explain.” 

Zarah’s voice was surprisingly steady. “Ms. Vega’s neural interface malfunctioned. An unfortunate accident. I’ll file a full report.”

“Noted,” the drone said. “Reallocating debt to Vega’s Economic Continuity Initiative avatar. Thank you for your cooperation.” It floated out of the room, its hum barely perceptible.

The train back to Zone One felt, as it always did, like a rebirth. Gleaming skyscrapers, their upper levels bathed in sunlight, rippled with bank logos and adverts for the latest implants:

Boost Your Productivity! Reduce Your Debt!

Zarah took the travelator to Elysium Trust Finance, where the atrium’s walls were relaying live scenes from the Himalayas. A private security detail shielded a woman whose crisp suit, vintage sunglasses, and unblemished skin marked her as one of the elite.

Amarantha Gould.

Gould saw Zarah, stopped, and spoke. “Delacruz. My office.”

Zarah followed Gould to the elevator. Gould didn’t speak, didn’t even look at her. As they ascended, adverts flashed past: 

Private Islands: The Ultimate Luxury.

Breathe Easier Knowing You’re at the Top.

Gould’s office, floor-to-ceiling windows tinted against the harsh glare of the sun, was bigger than Zarah’s apartment. It offered a panoramic view of the Zones, a reminder of how far Zarah could fall. Gould herself stood before a wall of high-definition holographic displays displaying streams of financial data. 

She gestured for Zarah to sit. “What’s the story with Shanice Vega?”

“Dead. Implant malfunction.”

Gould lowered her sunglasses and assessed Zarah. “Fortuitous.”

Fortuitous indeed. Vega’s daughter could now go to school and gain a qualification. 

Her mother was dead, but she had a chance of a life. 

“Why isn’t there a record of your customer options discussion?”

“Unlicensed financier on the same floor. They’re using jammers.”

“Bootleg loans? Again? They’re like cockroaches.” She lifted her tablet. “Note to self: shake the Vertical down again.” She looked back at Zarah, calculating. “Shanice Vega and I worked on the debt algorithms together, long, long ago, implementing the Debt Responsibility Framework. We didn’t have insurance. There’s something you aren’t telling me.” 

She’s just fishing. 

Say nothing.

Gould sighed and pulled up another image. “Recognize this man?”

Zarah’s breath caught. “Of course. My father.”

“Quite. Deceased two months ago. Avatar now employed by the Economic Continuity Initiative. Working off the family debt. You must be proud.” 

“I loved him. He loved us.”

Gould yawned. “Love is a luxury, my dear. Also, you won’t think so kindly of him when you see his legacy.” Numbers scrolled across the screen. 

Zarah’s eyes widened. “What? Our debt isn’t—”

“Oh, but it is.” Gould leaned forward. “Turns out your father had a talent for creative accounting.” 

Zarah gripped the arms of her chair. “What do you want?”

Gould’s smile was all teeth. “We’ve discovered a group of terrorists… radical lunatics spreading fantasies about debt forgiveness and system resets. Your ex-husband is one of them.”

Zarah’s throat went dry. 

How much does she know? 

She kept her face blank. “I’m servicing Alex’s debt. No arrears.”

“Maybe so, but I want this terrorist cell dismantled. Locate him and I’ll restructure the burden your family has left you.” She turned to her displays, apparently done with the conversation.

“But I’ve not seen Alex since he left — he’s off grid — I don’t know if I can find him.”

Gould sighed and turned back, her gaze drifting to the window. “I hear the air in Zone Three is getting worse,” she said. “I wouldn’t want my children to grow up breathing it. Make a choice: your ex-husband or your daughter. You have twenty-four hours.”

Zarah rode the elevator down from the top floor, staring past the gleaming spires of Zone One, and the solar gardens of Zone Two towards the chaotic patchwork of Zone Three and the drone-patrolled border that separated the city from the toxic hellscape of Beyond.

Her watch chirped.

W3 N33D T0 M33T

Alex. 

Zarah thought back to the last time she’d seen her husband.

Mei was finally asleep. Alex hunched over his desk, his eyes darting between flickering screens, frantically swapping his archaic but unhackable collection of data chips between readers. 

Zarah whispered, “Darling, it’s late. Come to bed.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. 

Alex turned, his bloodshot eyes bright with conviction. “Look at this.” He pulled up a chart, lines swirling in the air between them.

Zarah squinted. “What? It’s just a debt projection.”

“For all zones, all income levels, except the highest.” Alex’s voice was tense. “They all end up in the same place. Infinite debt. It’s by design, Zarah.”

“That’s not… The system—”

“Has us all trapped?”

Zarah’s watch beeped. Her shift at Elysium. She hadn’t slept.

“How can you still work for them?” Alex asked.

“Someone has to service our debts. We can’t all be full-time conspiracy theorists.”

He flinched as if she’d slapped him.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t—”

“It’s not a theory that a citizenry in debt is a citizenry controlled. They work harder. They don’t have time to question.”

The same pointless argument. “The Debt Responsibility Framework stabilized the economy after the Meltdown. I help people where I can. I’m just doing my job.”

“See — debt creates control.” Alex scooped up his data chips. “I have to go.”

Zarah frowned. “What? Go where?”

“I can’t tell you.” Alex moved to the closet, pulled out a bag, already packed. “I know you don’t get it, but there are people who do. We’ve found references: Project New Equilibrium.”

“Alex, wait, please.” Zarah’s voice rose. “What about Mei?”

He paused, hand on the door. “I’m doing this for Mei. She’ll be in danger if I get any closer. That’s why I have to stay away from you both.”

The door hissed open. He stepped through, hesitated. “Divorce me. Renounce my debts. One day, perhaps…”

“But we love you.”

“Love is a luxury,” he said. 

And then he was gone.

Zarah stood there, staring at the closed door, her sobs merging with Mei’s soft cries and the beeping of her watch.

The memories faded, and Zarah found herself at the door of her family apartment. Inside, the walls flickered to life, showing calming forest scenes. Mei emerged from her room, clutching her tattered teddy bear. 

“Mom, Grandma’s meds…” 

Zarah forced a smile. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll feed her.”

In the kitchen, Zarah’s mother was trying to eat hummus. Her hands shook as she tried to bring a spoonful to her lips. She looked up. “There’s a message from Debt Enforcement.” Her voice was as fragile as her bones, her overalls covered in hummus.

“I’ll take care of it, Mom.” Zarah sat down at the kitchen table, fed her mother, and then pulled up the app. Numbers swam before her eyes. It wasn’t possible…

A soft sound made her look up. Mei stood in the doorway, still clasping her teddy bear, her face tear-streaked. “Mom?”

Zarah swallowed hard. “Come here, baby.”

Mei climbed into Zarah’s lap, small arms wrapping around her neck. “I had a dream about Daddy.” Mei’s voice was muffled against Zarah’s shoulder.

Zarah closed her eyes, fighting back tears. “Daddy loves you, Mei.”

“But why did he leave?”

Zarah hugged her tighter. “Sometimes,” she said, “Grownups have to do difficult things.”  

They sat like that until Mei fell asleep. Zarah put her to bed and returned to the kitchen. Her watch buzzed — another message:

T0M0rr0W 2200

53CT10N 8 5T4T10N

Zarah made her way through the dingy corridors of Section Eight. Supposedly, it had once been a park, a green oasis. Now it was a maze of purification units, detoxifying Zone One’s air, and pumping the poison into Beyond. An Enforcement drone hummed overhead, searchlight sweeping the area. Zarah tensed.

On her watch was another encrypted message:

TH3Yr3 F0110W1N6 Y0U

Section Eight’s maglev station was abandoned, the platform edges crumbling, the tracks rusting on their pillars. Wind whistled through the structure, like the memory of a lost future. Zarah’s footsteps echoed in the cavernous space, her nerves screaming. 

A smiling figure emerged on the gantry above her: Alex, holding up a signal jammer, its green light solid. “Darling,” he whispered. “It’s so good to see you.” 

She looked up at him. “Alex, you promised to stay away. What is it?”

“The debt is a lie.” Alex’s voice was low, urgent. “We’ve found proof that Project New Equilibrium exists.” His eyes were as bright as ever. “We’re going to tear the whole damn thing down.”

“Alex, they’re blackmailing me into betraying you. I don’t know how long I can stall them — they’re threatening Mei.”

“It’s okay. If we get this right, you and Mei will be safe, and we’ll be one step closer to burning Project New Equilibrium to the ground. When the jammer runs out, don’t agree to anything I say. Please, just trust me.” 

“Alex, for pity’s sake, what’s going on?”

“Better you don’t know. Make sure they find the data chips — that’s all that matters.” The signal jammer in his hand started flashing green. Alex grinned. “Ready?” 

Zarah thought of Gould’s shark-like smile, of Mei’s worried face, of her mother’s trembling hands. She thought about debts and luxuries. She took a deep breath. “Let’s do it.” 

The signal jammer went red.

“I… Love… You,” Alex mouthed, then said aloud, “We need someone on the inside. Somebody like you. With your help, we could—”

“No.” she said. “Whatever you’re planning, it won’t work.”

“So, you’ll just walk away, like an obedient little debt collector?” There was a hint of desperation in Alex’s voice now. She didn’t know he was that skilled an actor.

Zarah smiled at him. “I’ll do anything for my family,” she said.

Behind her, she thought she heard a noise, a scrape of metal on concrete, and then floodlights blasted the station through the dust-coated plexiglass arches. 

“Alex Rivera,” a metallic voice, amplified and distorted, “by order of the Debt Responsibility Security Bureau, you’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit economic terrorism.” 

Enforcement drones swarmed in, razor-sharp manipulators glinting in the searchlights. 

Alex stepped back into the shadows, flickered and disappeared.

Zarah kneeled, arms wide, as the drones closed in, weapons trained on her.

The debt is a lie. Could it be true?

Zarah sat on a hard bench in the holding cell, staring at her reflection in the one-way mirror. 

The door slid open. Gould entered, tablet in hand. Zarah looked up. Gould was smiling, but that meant nothing.

“Did you catch him?” Zarah asked.

“Unfortunately, he was too clever for that. You were talking to a hologram. Still, we found a gold mine of data chips: the records of his terrorist group. We’re scanning through them now.”

“Can I go home then?” Zarah asked. 

“Just one thing first — tell me what he said while the signal was jammed.”

“He told me the debt is a lie, and he’s going to tear the whole rotten system down.”

Gould laughed. “Well, one out of two ain’t bad. Incidentally, I’ve got a new position for you. I call it ‘Community Outreach Officer’. You’ll be tracking down misguided souls like your ex-husband, helping them see the error of their ways.” She slid the tablet across to Zarah, who glanced at the contract. The money was better, enough to buy her mother proper meds even.

“Also, I’m not the Debt Cancellation Lottery, but let’s just say your family’s debt isn’t as vast as it was.” 

“You’re feeling generous.”

“It isn’t about money,” Gould said, her voice smooth, her eyes gleaming. 

“Infinite debt creates infinite control… you think you’re a god.”

Gould leaned in close, almost whispering. “The question is, are you one of my angels?” She straightened up, smoothing her immaculate suit.

Zarah looked up at Gould, saw the power she had, how unlikely any kind of lasting victory was. She thought she understood Alex’s plan: leave the tainted data chips for Gould to find, upload some kind of hack when she scanned them. He must have been planning it ever since he left. It was a dangerous game, but…

The debt is a lie.

She tapped ‘accept’. 

Gould’s victorious smile widened. “Welcome to heaven, Delacruz,” she said, extending her hand.

Zarah took it, her grip firm. “Glad to be here.”

As Gould turned away, Zarah’s watch displayed a new message:

UP104D 4CT1V4T3D

0N3 D4Y W3 W1LL 

5T0P Pr0J3CT N3W 3QU1L18r1UM 

L0V3 15 N07 4 LUXUrY

Zarah’s throat tightened. Alex was right, love wasn’t a luxury. And even if it was, it was a luxury she couldn’t afford to lose. She thought of Vega holding the gadget to her head. Of her father’s avatar trapped in digital purgatory. Of Alex mouthing “I Love You”. Most of all, she thought about Mei. She stood and straightened her jacket. Her work started now, and she had debts to settle. 

This story won 1st prize in the Financial Fallout Anthology competition.