Hannon brought the slender shield affixed to his forearm around and smashed it into the Cooney's face. This one was a hard case. Seventeen previous violations had brought the law down on the man and the veteran enforcer was committed to bringing him in. The pilgrim wasn't dangerous or violent. They never were, but Hannon had seen too much not to distain and loathe his very existence. They were violators, people that shirked the law and their duties as citizens.

Another harsh fist to the face summoned the inevitable flow of blood. Hannon marveled at how easy it was to elicit the dark fluid from the man's features. He had heard that it was because of the vascularity of the flesh, capillaries that ran just beneath the surface. Hannon didn't give a shit what it was. He just wanted the man to remember the experience. The pilgrim's crimes brought him just short of reeducation, but he was definitely a thorn in Hannon's side.

Once again, blood spattered on the enforcer's body armor courtesy of a straight left to Cooney's jaw. The cop really had better things to do than to deal with what he thought was petty crime. But the Archetype in all their wisdom had decreed it a violation of the morality code and Hannon was stuck enforcing it. He lifted the man up by the neck. The tips of his toes barely touched the ground.
'When will you guys ever learn,'� Hannon asked. 'Don't you ever get tired of being rousted?'� He didn't give the man a chance to talk. 'Well, we're gonna fix you good this time.'� The enforcer allowed an evil grin to stretch across his face. 'How does ten days at Track sound?'� The man could only moan softly, whimpering as if he were about to cry.

It was harsh punishment. The Track was reserved for the most violent offenders considered beyond reeducation. Ten days would be a lifetime, if he made it out at all. Cooney's eyes betrayed due fear at the prospect and he trembled in the enforcer's grasp.
With ease, Hannon tossed the offender into the waiting arms of the officers he had beckoned as backup. He had known he wouldn't need them, but he hated to clean up the mess and do all the paperwork alone. Paperwork, Hannon laughed at the word in his head and wondered how soon it would be before they finally got around to outlawing its usage.

'Ten days on the Track and make sure you burn the books,'� The enforcer said, brusquely. His coarse voice grated like a file against bare metal. If his compatriots were stunned at the severity of the judgment, they gave no clue. Their faces were blank behind the eye shields and half-helmets they wore. 'Don't forget the ones in the closet. I think there's a Harry Potter in there.'� Hannon pointed to the opposite end of the room and Cooney broke down, sobbing for his precious articles of contraband.

It had been almost two years since hard copy books had been banned. Hannon thought that the job would get easier has they went along, but there didn't seem to be an end in sight. These deviants clung to their belief in the printed word with a near religious fervor. 'Shut your mouth and stop crying,'� Hannon growled. 'For Christ's sake, be a man. When you get out, if you get out, you can download all this crap from the Nexus for free.'� These pilgrims never learned, he thought. If he made it out of track the man would most likely proceed directly to the underground market to find replacements for the items that had been destroyed. It was human nature to collect worthless relics.

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