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The Alien Sheriff -- Part 25
by James Patrick Cobb

In the last episode, Buck goes home to fetch his family and move them to Contention City. Everyone joins in for one last barbecue before the Turners move to Contention City where Buck has taken a job as sheriff. Buck gives his hands a 7/10ths interest in any profits from the ranch and makes them promise to keep Renner on, never mind the trouble everyone has had with him in the past. He’s a changed man now. He’s brainclipped.

For definitions and other story information please see www.sfwestern.com.

Episode 25

Yeah, so I put brrkups in more heads than I promised the Council I would. Still, I never wanted to stick a brrkup in everybody's head. Critics said I did.

I saw how well the device worked, how much it helped people. Everybody who had one installed became as good as they could be. I reckoned that only someone inherently evil could find something wrong with that. If everyone was good, then there would be fewer cronies for the bad guys to be in cahoots with.

Not that everyone needed a brrkup. Some people are good enough. They follow the rules. Why put a brrkup in someone's head if they're good enough? We intended it as a treatment rather than a punishment.

A person who was "good enough" wasn't part of the epidemic of violence. They did nothing to provoke or sustain the fighting, nor were they likely to become involved in the fighting. They regarded and treated their fellow man with equality.

I wasn't the only person who thought brainclips were a good thing. When word got out about them, some asked me to put one in them. They regretted one action or another, and they no longer trusted their judgment. Though there was pathetic resignation in the request, there also was a certain dignity. How could I refuse? Not all crimes are public in nature and knowledge. If they felt they violated some law, even though it was their own personal law, I couldn't refuse. In the end, using a brrkup to achieve the goal of becoming a good person is no different from using any other tool.

I never asked someone why he wanted to be clipped. People have a right to keep their secrets.

By the end of September, around 850 people had brainclips implanted, not all of whom remained in Contention City. Deputy Anaya and I kept meticulous records. Childs didn't keep any. We had to guess at the number he installed.

By October, the name of Contention City had become a misnomer. You never saw a quieter, more orderly town. A motion was put forth to the Council by one of the clipped residents to change Contention's name to "Happy Valley."

The Council unanimously vetoed the proposition. Many people figured we'd be troubled with still more immigrants if we changed the town's name to Happy Valley. Who wouldn't want to move to a town with a rich silver lode where everyone was happy? Population growth wasn’t seen the way it is today with towns wanting to grow. Most people didn’t want to grow like New York, San Francisco or Tombstone. They didn’t realize how much money could be made in real estate or business.

Anyway, there were some who maintained that the general mood of the town wasn't especially happy. That might be true if your idea of happiness is a big affair where everyone is telling witty stories, laughing and drinking. Unlike many silver rush towns, very few people continued to go to the End of the Trail and the Metropolitan saloons. Rather, the citizens went about their work seriously and steadily. The brainclipped, to a person, went home at night, talked with their families or friends, played a card or board game and never fought over the outcome. They spent the hours before bedtime in some quiet manner. When they were tired, they went to bed. The next morning, they went to work again. Their lives became a simple existence with a basic rhythm. Though dull to some, I found it pleasing. I didn't miss the town it had been where people cussed and shot at each other at all hours and tragedies befell people like the Crawfords.

Some said the town became creepy, but most welcomed the change, whether or not they were implanted. For most of us, Contention City was becoming a heaven on Earth.

If someone didn't like the changes, he packed up and left. Even without the name change, people arrived every day by rail car and wagon, hoping to live in peace rather than strife. They knew there was money to be made in Contention. No other place in the United States offered as great an opportunity for a man to find his fortune.

Still, some people weren't satisfied with the changes I wrought. In whispers, they called me a self-righteous, sanctimonious, faultfinding bastard. I did my best to consider the criticism a complement. I never expected everyone to agree with everything I'd done. I took their comments as part of the job and made note of them. Their opposition to what I was trying to do was reason to suspect they were profiting somehow from the shiftless way things had been.

I brainclipped some of these people, not because of criticism, but because they broke the law. My critics often misunderstood both the abilities of the brrkup and my intentions.

There was no point in listening to those who were too vociferous in their criticism. Councilman Garza was among those. I couldn't countenance the way they'd have the town. To those who complained I, ". . . would do unto others what I wouldn't do unto myself," I'd give them their point. The way I saw it, people of my ilk are not the ones who create the majority of the world's problems for others. We raise our children by the Good Book, try to live those words as best we can. Our lives bear more good fruit than the Del Wilsons, Tom Pricketts, Jasper Halahans, and the Thomas Brotherses. Should I have implanted myself just because I implanted others? Foolishness! That would be like saying we should all go to prison because we'd send lawbreakers there.

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