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I spent two nights in jail after they processed me. I’ve always had pretty
good luck with law enforcement, probably because I easily pass for white,
yet I’ve always disliked them, because of the things that happen to people
who can’t pass for white. Of course, they shouldn’t have to
pass for anything beyond being living creatures who deserve to be
respected, and to feel safe around the people who have literally sworn an
oath to serve and protect. As far as I know, there’s no oath to attack and
kill unprovoked, but you wouldn’t know it reading about the coppers on my
homeworld. Anyway, processing went fine, and the jail cell wasn’t that bad.
I shared it with five other guys. The toilet wasn’t in a separate room, but
there was a partial concrete barrier. We could still see each other, but we
couldn’t see anything private unless we deliberately walked up closer, which
fortunately, no one ever did. Sunday morning was a whirlwind of activity
that I did not expect. I made a lot of friends on this planet, but none of
them was in a position to help me with this situation. My family doesn’t
live here, and I’ve not been around for long enough to form strong bonds. As
it turned out, I didn’t really need them. The FBI surprisingly had my back.
I helped them by luring that teenage girl’s kidnappers away from the trail
while they rescued her, which was a really nice thing for me to do, but we
weren’t exactly investigating terrorists. I’m not even sure if they’ve even
managed to catch the criminals yet. What I did was not that big of a deal.
All I had to do was drive to Alabama, and leave breadcrumbs for them to
follow. The hardest part of that was having to spend time in Alabama. Boom.
Normally, I don’t think a federal agency will spend taxpayer money to bail
an individual out of jail, but they were able to expedite paperwork to make
me a CI. Obviously, the C in that initialism is supposed to stand for
confidential, but past events have already been recorded in this
regard, so who cares? Luckily for the taxpayers, my bail wasn’t all that
high, because the judge knew that I wouldn’t be able to afford more than a
few bucks. I’ll say, the wheels of justice seem to turn faster here than
they do where I’m from. They do hearings on the weekend, did you know that?
That’s so weird, but I’m grateful for it. I’m staying in a hotel right now,
which the feds are allowing me to tell you, but I can’t say which one. It’s
pretty nice, though. They’re treating me like an important witness, which I
may be. They may ask me to testify against the ID makers whenever they catch
them, and start turning the wheels of justice over them too. Don’t get too
excited for me, though. They’ll probably cut me a deal for a lighter
sentence due to my help in the bigger investigation, but I’m not getting off
scot-free. I’ve still committed my own crimes, and the law is clear enough
on that, so I’ll have to pay for my sins one way or another. The government
can’t pay my legal fees, for obvious reasons, but I don’t have to worry
about that either. They’re not the only friends that I unexpectedly made.
When I first left Kansas City, and hid out in Iowa, I quickly hooked up with
the ID makers to generate my new identity. I still can’t tell you how I
managed that, but perhaps one day. Sorry, but it’s not my secret to tell.
Soon after that, I was able to find a job. It was a weird place where I
worked, but I didn’t ask any questions. I just cleaned where I was told to
clean, and kept my head down. They were dealing with very secretive
information, but I never found out what exactly all of those documents were
for. I still don’t know, but they noticed me, and they’ve decided to help
out too, for reasons I couldn’t tell you. They’ve promised to cover all of
my legal fees, including whatever it might cost if I decide to countersue
the state, the federal government, or anyone else. I don’t think that I’m
going to do that. I’m not sure what my case would be, and I’m not greedy. I
knew what I was getting myself into. Well, I didn’t know that I would
encounter a kidnap victim, but as far as my own dealings go, I made my own
bed. Here’s what I’m worried about—and I’m fully aware that they have access
to my blog—maybe they think that I saw something while I was a janitor in
their offices, and don’t want me telling others about it. Honestly, I didn’t
see nothin’, man. All of the regular staff members were always really good
about keeping their stuff locked up, and I was really good about not letting
my eyes wander. The truth is, I’m a curious person, but I’m not
investigative. I could never have been a detective, because I generally
don’t want to get into other people’s business. If I walk up to two people
who are laughing together, I don’t ask them what’s funny. The way I see it,
if they want to tell me, they can. So I don’t know what interest my former
employer has in my legal issues, but I’ve decided to accept their help until
they give me a reason to stop trusting them. I’ll fill you in on more
tomorrow. Things are changing every day now, so I’m sure I’ll have a lot to
catch you up on. This could all be a game, or a ruse, though, so my
declaration stands; no matter what the autopsy says, it was murder.
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