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TekCity is one of those big retail stores specializing in electronics – low prices and no service. The manager of the store, Mr. Carson, looks at my application and gives me a suspicious glance.

"Lewis, I see you worked as a computer programmer up until a few days ago. What happened there?"

"Big layoff; my old company's outsourcing all of its jobs."

He rubs his chin and then plugs my name in his computer. "Well, you've got a clean record; no arrests of any kind. That's good. But I see you've got some surgery scheduled for next week."

"It's nothing, just a minor procedure."

"I see," he says, rubbing his chin again. "Well, we don't have any medical insurance, so you'll be paying for any medical costs on your own. Now, if you miss any work because of it, I'll dock your pay. When can you start?"

"How about today?"

"Fine. I'll get you started," he says, and takes me to my workstation in the warehouse. The job is painfully simple. Basically, I'm a glorified security guard on the night shift. I carry a stun gun and a phone and keep an eye on the place. There's security cameras and alarm systems everywhere, but they want a person to double-check the automated systems. I take a seat at my workstation and stare at the racks of boxes that stretch for miles.

The next night I take my hand held computer to work; maybe I can do something productive while I stare at the racks and video feeds.

I log on the Web and decide to do a little investigative work. Curious about my new boss, I plug in Carson's name.

Most of the stuff is the usually boring things you find – where he grew up, his school records, the name of his first girlfriend, his social security number, his employment history, blah, blah, blah.

Then I start looking a little closer and it starts to get interesting. Two years ago he was arrested on a drunken driving charge, but the charges were later dropped. At about the same time, he transferred 10,000 Cs from his bank account. Interesting.

I do a search of the police officers involved in the drunken driving charge. There were two officers, but find nothing out of the ordinary in their records. Then I do a search for the Assistant District Attorneys in our city. There's four of them. I check their financials from two years ago. Just as I suspected; there's a 10,000 C deposit into one of the ADAs accounts. "I'll be dammed," I mutter.

I turn off my computer and smile.

The next day I go to my boss's office. "Mr. Carson, could I see you for a minute?"

He looks up and waves me in. "What's up?"

"Mr. Carson, I was hoping to get a loan from you."

He gives me a puzzled look. "A loan? You've got to be kidding; you just started working here this week. What do I look like, a bank?"

I give him a broad smile. "I'll need 5,000 Cs."

"You're crazy, Lewis," he says angrily.

"Actually, I'm not. I figured you were so generous with that ADA two years ago that you could help me out also. Otherwise, I'm sure the police would find your generosity very interesting."

His face turns white and his hands start shaking. "But... it's not... I--"

"And by the way," I say calmly, "don't charge me any interest on that loan. I mean, we're friends now."

During my shift that night, I stare at the racks of boxes and video feeds. At my meal break, I turn on my hand held computer and start playing around. I plug in the names of each of the store's assistant managers. One of them, Lisa Garcia, has an interesting item. I turn off my computer and smile.