The garbage man - as the waste management team members are known - arrived at evidence collection. The waste management team’s job was multi-faceted. They disposed of bodies, evidence, they cleaned-up crime scenes, interviewed witnesses to make sure that there were no witnesses, and tidied up the broken pieces left behind by the operations unit.

‘I’m here for a cold package’ - said the garbage man to the evidence collection receptionist.

The garbage man had his own gurney as well as several industrial garbage bags laying on top of the gurney. He was wearing dark blue overalls and a yellow high visibility vest. On his head was a white hard hat. He was wearing tan leather work gloves, and black boots. He was young and had an unshaven beard.

‘Which one?’ - The receptionist asked.

‘Hang on comrade’ - said the garbage man - ‘I’ve got the requisition right here…’ He rummaged through the pockets of his overalls and pulled out several dot-matrix printed paper sheets - scrunched up.

He reviewed the sheets of paper until he found the one he was looking for.

‘A77-545-AH112-AB141-AY117-AH119’ - the garbage man read out, whilst the receptionist typed the letters and numbers into the computer in front of her.

The receptionist smiled and hit enter. The printer beside her whirred and out came three copies of the evidence handover form. One for the evidence collection, one for waste management, and one for records.

The receptionist picked up the phone and dialed a three digit number - ‘Yes...waste management is here for a cold package...yes...file number six four four seven four five nine four four six...yes...reception...thank you.’ - the receptionist placed the phone back on the cradle - ‘They won’t be long’ - the receptionist smiled.

The garbage man sat down on the bench opposite the reception desk and pulled out a packet of Victory cigarettes with a packet of matches. He lit his cigarette and puffed, sitting in silence. The receptionist busied herself entering letters and numbers into the computer from a stack of papers.

‘I’m better at driving the van than all the paperwork’ - the garbage man said, contemplating the burning end of his cigarette. The receptionist smiled and continued with her work.

‘I once had a warm package to pick up to transfer over to detention, but I messed it up and it ended up at the farm - so they only let me do the cold pickups now. I don’t mind, less hassle with the cold jobs - just pick ‘em up and drop ‘em off - no drama. All the cold jobs go to the farm, so there’s less likely to be any mistakes.’

The body of Tony Wilkes was contained within the black body bag. Tony Wilkes had been placed upon a gurney, with his few personal effects inside a black plastic bag placed on top of him. He was wheeled by an evidence collection team member.

The receptionist looked up as the evidence collection team member arrived at the reception. The garbage man extinguished his cigarette in the tall ashtray beside the bench and stood.

‘Transfer of a cold package - file number 6447459446 - under People’s Ministry requisition number A77-545-AH112-AB141-AY117-AH119, from evidence collection to waste management’ - the receptionist said announcing the arrival of Tony Wilkes.

The receptionist placed the three printed sheets on the reception desk - and placed two pens alongside them.

‘If you can place your number and initials here, here, and here..’ - the receptionist said to the garbage man. The garbage man filled in the paperwork as requested.

‘And if you can place your number and initials here, here, and here…’ - the receptionist said to the evidence collection team member, which he did.

‘Thank you’ - the receptionist took the three sheets and turned them around. She glanced at the clock on the wall opposite her desk and filled in some additional details. The receptionist opened a drawer and pulled out a large self inking stamp, which she adjusted - and then stamped all three copies of the paperwork. The receptionist initialed the documents, and then handed one copy to the evidence collection team member, one copy to the garbage man, and kept one copy for herself.

‘They put these straight in the furnace up at the farm’ - the garbage man said, as he screwed the paperwork up and put it in his overall pocket.

‘We like to do things properly at evidence collection, comrade’ - the receptionist said, smiling.

The evidence collection team member positioned himself at Tony Wilkes’ feet, and the garbage man at Tony Wilkes’ shoulders.

‘On three’ - The garbage man said, looking at the evidence collection team member.

‘One...two...three’ - they heaved and lifted Tony Wilkes from one gurney to the other.

They all thanked each other and the garbage man went on his way.

The receptionist placed her copy of the document in an internal post delivery envelope, which she sealed with the string tie and wrote on the front ‘RECORDS’, and placed in the out-tray on the reception. She returned to entering letters and numbers on the computer.

The evidence collection team member wheeled the gurney down the long hallway, and the garbage man wheeled Tony Wilkes off towards the elevators.

The garbage man punched the down button of the elevator and waited. The empty elevator arrived. He wheeled Tony Wilkes into it, pushed P6, and the elevator doors closed.

The lift arrived at P6 and the doors opened. The garbage man was in a vast underground parking lot. He wheeled Tony Wilkes out of the elevator and turned left passing lines of parked cars, until he came to an area reserved for vans and trucks. He stopped behind a large white van, with vinyl lettering on the back - Victory Brand Frozen Foods. The garbage man pulled a bunch of keys from his overalls, and unlocked the back doors. He opened the doors, and inside were five other black body bags and several black plastic bags filled with personal effects - everything inside the van was covered in frost.

The garbage man positioned the gurney to the back of the van, so that Tony Wilkes’ head and shoulders were facing towards the interior of the van. The garbage man slid Tony Wilkes off the gurney and into the van, pushing his feet so that he was off the gurney. He threw the bag of Tony Wilkes’ possessions inside the van and collapsed the gurney - lifting it inside the back of the van. The garbage man closed the back doors of the van and locked the doors.

He walked around to the driver's door and climbed inside the cab. He started the engine, and the van’s refrigeration system kicked in. He reversed out of the parking bay, and then paused a moment. He pulled the Victory cigarettes from his overalls and lit a cigarette, winding down the window halfway.

The garbage man drove around the parking lot, and up the ramp to ground level. He approached the exit security barrier and stopped. A uniformed police officer approached, and the garbage man flashed his People’s Ministry identity badge. The uniformed officer signaled to the control booth, and the barrier was raised.

The garbage man then pulled out of the People’s Ministry of State Security and Policing into the bright daylight. The sun was shining, and the streets were busy with the proles going about their business. The garbage man waited for a break in traffic, and then pulled out - turning right.

He threw his finished cigarette out of the van window, and lit another one. The garbage man worked his way through the streets of the City of Victorious. The streets were not too busy, and he was in no hurry. After about 50 minutes of driving he was leaving the city. Gone were the high rise buildings and tenements. They were now replaced by rows and rows of prefabricated bungalows, and the leafy suburbs of Victorious.

After another hour of driving - the garbage man was in the countryside. No houses now - just farmland as far as the eye could see. Soybeans, maize, and tobacco.

After the revolution and after the war - the prisoners of the losing side were given a choice to work away their guilt and crimes, or be shot or gassed. Ten years of toil in the fields, and then citizenship of the People’s Republic. The only way to wash away that guilt was through toil in the fields for ten years. And then - after ten years of toil, and now guilt free - the People’s Republic granted citizenship and assigned you the People’s Ministry of Agriculture and Farming to spend the rest of your years toiling in the fields. When you died, your body was put through a woodchipper and mixed with compost and fertilizer, and spread on the land where the guilty would toil the dead to erase the crimes of the living.

The Victory brand Frozen Foods van stopped at a high metal gate. The gate was attached to a high metal fence with razor wire atop. The fence extended in both directions as far as the eye could see. On the other side of the fence there was a narrow gravel track that extended as far as the eye could see. There were no buildings visible. There was an intercom on a stand that the garbage man pulled up to. The sign on the gate read ‘PEOPLE’S MINISTRY OF AGRICULTURE AND FARMING RESEARCH FACILITY - NO UNAUTHORIZED ENTRY’.

The garbage man pressed the intercom button - and waited.

‘What?’ - Said a dull metallic voice.

‘Waste management’ - said the garbage man.

There was a sound of a buzz - and then the high gate slid open sideways.

The garbage man waited until the gate was open, and then drove the van up the long gravel track. The gate slid closed, and the van disappeared into the distance, heading to the farm.