“Everything okay, ma’am?” the handsome, muscular man in a protective uniform asked suspiciously.
“Yes, I just wanted to think about something,” Etta said, stopping and taking out her S card hastily. “Here you go. I am mentally healthy, at least according to last month’s exam.”
She suddenly realized that she had been walking too slowly, absorbed in her thoughts. The policeman put the card into the reader and briefly looked through the data popping up on the panel.
“Yes, indeed,” he admitted after a moment. “You are healthy, clocked your compulsory hours in the gym, integration classes taken, medical exams up to date. Good job, you wouldn’t believe how many people disregard the law in this regard. Okay, please go home and don’t get into any foolishness.”
He returned the document to Etta
