The screen showed a new entry. My hand shook as I pressed the button to display it.
I talked to Richie, it said.
I tensed up. Did another person get killed trying to help me?
Who are you? I typed.
A friend, the display returned.
What did you do to him? I typed.
First, I need to know who you are, the text returned. Tell me — what’s AMP mean to the Lost Souls?
Everybody in the Lost Souls knew the place the message was referring to. AMP stood for ‘Alternate Meeting Place’ — an old furniture factory not far from the Center in Tintown. I wasn’t sure whether to answer him. In the end, I couldn’t see what harm it would do. If he knew about the AMP I wasn’t giving anything away.
Richie’s fine, came the reply after I’d answered. Don’t worry. We’re going to help you.
I considered turning the phone off. Maybe SecureCorp had caught Richie and extracted the stuff about the AMP from him. Maybe they were trying to trace the call.
More text came up. I’ll be at the AMP every day at four PM, for the next week — I’ll wait for one hour. Come alone.
The message was scary enough, but what really freaked me was when I looked in the bottom corner at the sign off.
It said: Uncle Zack.
I dropped the phone like it was red hot and stood there staring at it. It couldn’t be Fatso. There was no way he would know about Uncle Zack. The phone couldn’t be traceable; if they could find me they would have taken me already. I tried to check the calling number but it was obfuscated.
But how could it be Uncle Zack? In spite of what my dad said, Zack was supposed to be dead.
Then I remembered — I was dead. At least in the eyes of the world.
Whoever it was must really have talked to Richie, or one of the others. We were the only ones that knew about it. I swallowed hard. Was Richie okay?
Uncle Zack.
Was he really still alive? Or was it just somebody who knew about him?
☼
The next day Travis said if I was going to stay (I still wasn’t sure if I was even allowed to leave) I should be assigned a regular set of duties. I was placed on kitchen detail. I wasn’t really clear on what kitchen detail was. Other than zapping hot drinks and reheating packets from FoodCorp, I’d never actually prepared a meal.
To my surprise, and mixed feelings of joy, guilt, confusion, and sadness, Laura was there too. I was assigned to help her. When I showed up, she was washing these rough, brown, oblong objects in the kitchen sink. She handed one to me, gave me this gizmo with a blade, and told me to peel it.
I stared at it in my hand. “People actually eat these things?”
“It’s a potato,” she laughed. “It comes from the root of a plant. You’ve never seen one before? You’ve probably eaten them yourself thousands of times, you just didn’t recognize what it was.”
She demonstrated how to peel it, and gave it back to me. I turned the half-peeled potato over in my hands. “I always wondered what went into the slop FoodCorp makes.”
“We don’t get fresh food here very often either,” she said. “Usually they just hijack a delivery truck and take the food packets. This time they just happened to get one that had fresh vegetables. I think it was headed for the First Circle.”
I finished peeling the potato and dropped it in a bucket. Several others who’d also been assigned to the kitchen were chopping up vegetables Laura called carrots and beets across the room.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” Laura said, smiling.
“Sure I remember,” I said defensively. “But…well, you looked a lot different back then.”
She laughed, and again I felt a twinge of guilt, as I felt myself drawn to her. She handed me another potato and I started peeling.
She blushed as she smiled and said: “You didn’t notice me following you around at co-op school like a little puppy dog?”
It was my turn to blush. “I guess I wasn’t too observant─”
“You’ve changed too,” she said. “Older, more mature. It’s so courageous of you to risk everything to come and fight for our cause.”
I cringed. She had no idea why I was here. It occurred to me that that was probably a good thing.
“It’s important,” I went along, though at this point I still wasn’t really sure what their cause was.
“Did your dad really work for InfoCorp?” I asked, changing the subject.
She nodded, sadly. “My mom, too. She was a reporter. Dad said most people in the Corps are in denial about the political situation. Mom wanted to change that. She wrote a piece about some stuff she’d uncovered, but InfoCorp refused to run it. Dad warned her to leave it alone, but she kept pushing and digging. She was supposed to meet with an informant one night alone. Dad forbade her to go. He said it was too dangerous. She left a note and snuck off anyway. We never heard from her again.”
She was choking back tears.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I thought about taking her hand, but I wasn’t sure how she’d react.
She continued. “Dad spent months trying to find out what happened to her, but he kept hitting a brick wall. He would have kept going, but he was worried about my safety, so we gave up and moved to the Quarters. A friend of ours managed to sneak me into a school in the Corp Ring. Once in a while a bigwig would tour the place, so I’d have to make myself scarce.”
“That’s when you showed up at the co-op school,” I guessed.
“And that’s when I first saw you,” she smiled. “When the Rebel leader was killed, it left kind of a vacuum. Dad had no choice. We came out here. He was originally planning to wait until I turned sixteen — after I got my Appraisal.”
“When does that happen?” I asked.
“Next month,” she said cheerfully.
After all that had happened it seemed crazy that somebody could be so casual about it, but I didn’t say anything. I dropped my peeled potato in the bucket with the others.
I thought about my own Appraisal. I still didn’t know what it was, but from what Walter had told me…
“You can still get one — even out here?” I said.
She shrugged. “It’s not that hard to do. It’s just an injection. Dr. Treadwell’s going to do it.”
“You’re not worried?”
“About what?” she said.
I stiffened. I should never have gotten into this conversation.
“Nothing,” I said, smiling. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
CHAPTER 22
Revelations
I had a problem. I was almost certain that the Rebels wouldn’t let me leave. Even if they didn’t care about losing me (and I’m pretty sure they did care), they wouldn’t want me out there like Benny giving away their location. At the moment, there always seemed to be somebody paying attention to where I was, but I was free to go where I wanted. If I made it obvious I was trying to escape, that might change, and I’d never get away.
I thought about the night I’d met up with Benny. The guard had let me walk all the way to the end of the building before he tried to come after me. I came back willingly, so he’d probably let me do it again. I could walk to the spot where I’d met Benny, then just take off into the night. He wouldn’t be able to stop me.
Then again, he might have talked to somebody about how far I should be allowed to go. I might not get away with that again. Anyway, did I really want to get away? Was it worth cutting my ties with Travis (and Laura) and the Rebels just to contact some guy I’d never met, who might be setting a trap for me?
I had a week to think about it. For now, I’d leave things the way they were. Maybe Travis would come through with more on Uncle Zack…
☼
I had trouble sleeping that night, my mind ticking over about Travis, his lieutenants, and the Rebels in general. When he was my teacher Travis had some outlandish views, but I felt like he’d always been straight with me.
Now it seemed like he was
hiding something, but before I even considered going to see Uncle Zack, I wanted to give him the chance to explain. I found him outside on the front steps of the building, talking to a couple of his lieutenants. As I approached, they nodded to him and took off somewhere.
“Have you heard anything?” I asked. I was ready for a fight if I got the runaround again. To my surprise, he gestured toward the entrance and started walking. I followed him inside to a room they’d set up for meetings. There was a large table with chairs around it. We sat down on a couple of them.
“Okay…” he said. He sat facing me, one arm resting on the table. “Yeah, we know about the Dead Shift. And their leader is a guy named Zack. How old was your uncle?”
I shrugged. “He was my dad’s older brother. He’d be in his fifties, I guess.”
“Zack seems pretty young to be your uncle, but you never know with those guys.”
He hesitated, like he was trying to decide how to tell me something.
“We see them once in a while,” he finally said. “They’re really secretive. It’s different for them. SecureCorp doesn’t really consider us a threat. They’ll attack if we happen to cross paths — otherwise they leave us alone. But they’re actively hunting the Dead Shift. Our groups have the same agenda, but for the Rebels it’s political, for the Dead Shift, it’s a matter of life and death.”
Nothing was making sense. “You’ve got the same agenda?” I asked. “What agenda is that?”
“There’s stuff you don’t know.”
I laughed. “Well, duh… yeah I don’t know, because you and the others won’t tell me.”
His expression darkened as he leaned toward me. “You joked before about us trying to overthrow the government. You’re actually close to being right. We are out to change the status quo.”
“You’re crazy man,” I said. “We’re about to have an election to get rid of them. Haven’t you heard? The Enterprise party are going to eliminate more red tape and streamline the economy. They’re even planning to give the CCE more say in government decisions─”
He smiled. “You haven’t figured it out yet?”
“Figured what out?”
His smile disappeared. “There is no government.”
“What are you talking about? What about President Foster?”
He snorted. “Foster’s an actor.”
“What about the cabinet — the parties — the opposition?”
“Actors, actors, actors.” He shook his head sadly.
“Come on — so if there’s no government, who’s running things?”
“What’s there to run?” he laughed. “Think about it. The two biggest functions of government are to enact and enforce laws, and to deliver services to the people being governed. Except for the one forcing everybody to vote, there’s only one law — survival of the wealthiest.
“As for the services, the government used to provide roads, sewers, electricity, garbage collection, education, and health care for the people they governed. All that stuff is now done by the Corps. What’s left for the government to do?”
I swallowed hard. I’d never thought of it before. What exactly did the government do? I just sat there with my mouth open. My mind had gone blank.
“A better question to ask,” he continued, “is — who’s in control? And that’s an easy one to answer. Our true masters are on half the posters you see on the street, every other HoloTV show, and especially here—” he pointed to the HUD contact on his temple.
I was confused. I scrunched up my nose. “The CCE?”
He raised an eyebrow in confirmation.
“Bullshit,” I said.
“They’ve been in control for decades,” he said, “since long before you were born.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “And how’s that supposed to have happened?”
Travis shrugged and leaned back. “It was easy. From the beginning, Elite business interests had a massive influence on government. Originally, they preferred to lurk behind the scenes, using their wealth and connections to get what they wanted, and letting the government take the blame if the result was unpopular.
“But eventually that wasn’t enough. They got tired of just influencing, they wanted to be in charge. By pouring bucket loads of money into successive elections, they were able to place a core of their own people in key positions. Once they’d reached a critical mass, they just picked off the stragglers and eliminated the government altogether.
“Of course, they didn’t tell the public any of this. As far as the average person knew, nothing had changed. The result is what you see.” He gestured with his hand around us.
I felt like I’d entered some backwards world where the rules I knew about didn’t apply anymore. “So what happens when there’s an election?”
“You ever played the slots at the big casino in the Corp Ring?”
I nodded. “Cindy took me once, and gave me some money to play.”
“It’s kind of addicting isn’t it? That’s because it’s designed to take advantage of human psychology. You keep playing, looking for the high when you win. If you lost every time, eventually you’d get fed up and quit playing, right?”
“Is there some point to this?”
He smiled. “The slot designers know exactly how long you’re willing to lose before you give up. Just at the point where you’re about to walk away, guess what?”
“They set you up to win,” I said.
He nodded. “You win a little, and that gives you hope — you think your luck has changed and you keep playing. But your luck hasn’t changed. You’re being played for a sucker just like before.”
“Yeah, so?”
“That’s exactly how the government scam works — the changes in government give the public just enough hope to keep them from getting fed up and revolting.”
I still thought he was full of it, but somewhere in the back of my mind his words had a ring of truth.
“But everybody’s always going on about how much better things would be if the CCE ran the world,” I argued. “You’re telling me that they actually do run the world? What would be the point? Why set up this big elaborate scheme and make people hate the government and pretend you’re trying to fix things? Why not just tell everybody the truth?”
“People need something to fixate on,” Travis answered. “To hate. It distracts them from all their other problems, like not having enough to eat or not having proper medical care. It works especially well if an identifiable group can be blamed for everything that’s wrong with people’s lives, then punished, replaced, and forgotten about — until next time.”
His hand on the table clenched into a fist. “Through their HUDs and HoloTV, the public are manipulated into believing that all their problems are the fault of the current government. Sophisticated software and armies of computer analysts track the public mood. When their analysis indicates that the level of dissatisfaction has reached a critical point, guess what? It’s time for a new party to ‘govern’.” He held up two fingers of each hand like quotation marks.
His mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “It’s just like with the slot machines — everybody thinks their luck has changed, that they’re due for a win, but they’re being played for suckers like always.”
“But what about the vote?”
“The vote?” he smirked. “The ballot is tossed in the garbage as soon as you cast it. It’s just for show. When people think they have a choice, they feel empowered, like they’re doing something to improve their lives. Fact is, nothing at all changes. Exactly the same masters are in charge.”
I was still trying to wrap my head around it all. “Anyway,” I said, “if the CCE are this all-powerful force behind everything, what can you guys do?”
“There’s no way we can hope to get rid of the CCE,” he answered, “at least at the moment. There’s too much power behind them, and the public aren’t on our side — yet. But there is a flaw in their setup. Two flaws, actually.”
“
They better be big ones,” I joked. I still wasn’t sure I bought what he was saying, but it was clear there were things going on I didn’t understand.
“Weaknesses as old as humanity itself,” he said. “Arrogance and greed. You’ve got to understand about these people. They already have almost all the riches it’s possible to possess. They could be satisfied doing without the minuscule amount that’s left, continue to live better than the wealthiest sovereigns in history, and never be in danger of a revolt. But giving up something — even the tiniest scrap — isn’t in their DNA.”
He stared down at me. “They want everything. That’s the way they’re put together. They’ve got egos the size of these skyscrapers.” He gestured out the window at the buildings around us. “The joke is, they don’t even need what they already have, but that doesn’t matter. They can only be satisfied by taking it all.
“That could be their downfall. If conditions get bad enough, the public will have no choice but to fight back. The Elite are incredibly wealthy, but they’re a tiny minority. Their biggest fear is that the masses in the Quarters will get pissed off and revolt. That should limit how far they’re willing to go, but their greed is tempting them to push the envelope.”
“You haven’t changed from school,” I laughed, though I felt like I was just trying to convince myself.
He shrugged. “You can believe it or not. One way or another you’re going to find out for yourself. Our hope is that we can get truth out, or at least raise some doubt. Then maybe the public will wake up and support us. What we need is some kind of catalyst. Some event or revelation that will trigger the people to act.”
“Where do I fit into all this?” I asked, by now dreading the answer.
“I think you’re right that it’s got something to do with your Appraisal,” he said. “But exactly what, I don’t know.”
I closed my eyes. I’d been so happy when I met up with Travis again. I thought I’d finally find out what was going on. Now I had the feeling he wasn’t telling me everything he knew.
I opened them again and looked up at him. “So — what about my uncle?”
Vita Aeterna Page 12
