Knackers.

(Knacker Wagon Chronicles - V)

Baye slumped into his seat, contemplating his future. His present company obviously did not partake in his vision of escape. He would have to observe, learn and wait. He was no stranger to living with one eye open at all times. This lot of characters had their edge, but he'd seen this before. Before, was as in prior to the conviction. That verdict demarcated his two lives. His first life was his own and he knew it ended with the sentence. He recalled the stern message from the judge, 'Baye, by your choice to avoid a sentence of hard labor until you die, you are hereby designated a knacker. You are now an outlaw, forbidden to rejoin society.' THUNK. He rubbed his hand at the memory of the falling gavel. The back of his hand was still raw from the needles on the bottom of the gavel that imprinted 'KNACKER' into his skin.

He knew little about knackers. Clearly, times had changed since his romanticized view of expired farm animals riding off to glue factories. In his prior society they weren't discussed much. They were a class of dispossessed people, little acknowledged and mostly ignored. They weren't permitted in the large cities like he was from so he had never met any. They were set apart by the legal system and kept apart by physical and legal means. Knackers had their role in the at-large community but intentional distance was maintained between them and the good members of society. In fact, there were several clusters of castoffs, each contributing their own peculiar way to the summary economy. So knackers were not unique but they did monopolize their trade. As far as Baye knew it was limited to roadkill cleanup. He didn't know how they maintained their autonomy nor how they survived. Perhaps, it was as simple as Pudgi seemed to demonstrate, they lived off what the land provided.

At his judicial hearings Baye was presented with bleak choices. He knew life without parole and hard labor would mean a life last not lasting very long. Politicians of his day were always quick to regale the public with tales of cost-effectiveness and efficiency of the penal system. Even Baye could figure out that a penny saved on an inmate meant a penny to spend on pork, of course, at the largesse of the political benefactor. That fact was coupled with the obsolescence of the death penalty. Public morality had moved in a manner to require lengthy and ultimately costly proceedings to continue pursuing state-sactioned execution. Inmates spending a long time on death row equated to great public expense.

Accounting minds had come up with alternative schemes. Inmates were regarded as a potential labor pool. Cost-effective punishments were devised for prisoners condemned to never return to good society. Many prisons were turned into self-contained enclaves. Guards were recast as maintainers of order inside prisons to containers of inmates, more of a border patrol. For most of the high security facilities, the internal operations of prisons were largely handed over to prisoners themselves. Low-security facilities still had advocates pressing for inmate reform. Not all work needed to be confined to concrete enclaves. The job of a knacker and others of its kind were created to reduce prison populations and exploit the economic benefits of prisoners working outside the walls.

Baye had little interest living under jungle law in tight confines. He took the only other chance offered him, to work under the penal system. At least he could see sunlight once in a while. He'd also heard of people who at least claimed to have been knackers at one time but had been released. So he'd wait. If he had to endure his distasteful companions for a time, he could do so. Baye still had hope.