I’m a perp. When I got older and actually cared about history, I found out that wasn’t a name people were proud to have a few decades ago, but most people today are perps.
It’s short for ‘perpetual.’ We wear collectors that harness the power created by our movement. It’s so normal now it’s hard to imagine a world without them.
It's a unique take on an alternate future where we harness energy from our movements as well as other creative methods.
While it's not Christian fiction exactly, a lot of values do translate. Later in the series, I may explore more of the religions of the time.
I love the main character. He's likable but has a hard edge from having to survive in this almost post-apocalyptic society. He grows a lot in a short amount of time, but he retains his hopeful naivety along the way.
Based on what I got for the first supercharged cap last week, and the number of similar ones we’ve found, I can barely fathom the amount of money we’ll have after the Mecha trip. In fact, I could just exchange it within our region and the next, even though the nearest country within the former United States territory is in civil war. Since the energy crisis, that’s all we hear about, civil wars inside countries that seceded. Looking back, I wonder if the United States wasn’t so bad if it managed to hold itself together so long.
Caps aren’t the only things either. I haven’t even counted the swatts and rodents. Those alone could power our entire trailerhood for a solid month or more—which is what I plan to do with them, without telling anyone, of course. The hood has been good to us for the most part, and when we had mom’s wake, they really came together. I just have to figure out how to transfer their power without using the underground market.
The hardest part of all this is going to be keeping this place secret until we know it works. I’ll also be bringing as many old caps as I can find. Of those we’ve found down here, there doesn’t seem to be a limitation on which can hold power. Some even go back to the first generation of caps, discarded in the local sewers and park dump because of their inefficiencies. Being supercharged, it doesn’t matter now.
I’ve parked the cargo craft in the trash alley. Shae and I make a plan to load the caps. She insists on going topside first to make sure no one will see what we’re up to.
As late as it is, there’s always the chance some siphoners are roaming the streets for helpless perps like us.