“How do you get to work in a certain industry?” Julie wanted to know.
“Well, if you’ve got an aptitude for something, we’re not stopping you.”
“Except me,” Danny said. “All I want to do is kill zombies, and they won’t let me.”
“All in good time, kid,” Sonny said. “And if you’ve got an interest in something you can receive training. But another important thing, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t tell you about this, is that within a workplace it’s not all the same people doing the same tasks.”
“What he means is,” Panas said, “if Mickey were working in the TV station, he might be writing scripts and directing them, yes, but he’d also spend his fair share of time cleaning the toilets and such.”
“Why’s that?” Julie was genuinely curious.
“Why should all the empowering work fall on one or two people or a select group?” Panas asked rhetorically. “What we strive for here are balanced job complexes, meaning you do a certain amount of empowering work and a certain amount of more humdrum, needs-to-get done stuff.”
“One of the other beautiful things,” Sonny said, “is he wouldn’t have to work in the TV station all day. If he has another interest—”
Mickey with another interest outside of film? Gwen and Julie looked at one another.
“—it can be arranged for him to pursue it.”
“It’s like Marx wrote,” Panas paraphrased from memory, “…society regulates the general production and makes it possible for me to do one thing today and another thing tomorrow, to hunt in the morning, fish in the afternoon, rear cattle in the evening, criticize after dinner, without ever becoming hunter, fisherman, critic or shepherd.”
“You’ve got that memorized, huh?” Julie was impressed.
“Pretty much. Not quite word for word.”
“So zombies take over the earth and the remaining humans turn to communism?” Bear asked.
Panas shook his head. “Communism, socialism. Those words are tainted, my friend. Forget everything you knew about the Soviet Union, about Cuba and China and North Korea. What we’re talking about here is decentralization and direct workplace democracy.”
“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Danny said. “It’s actually pretty cool.”
“What about you guys?” Bear asked. “You guys work?”
“Of course we work,” Sonny said
“I’m off today,” Danny said.
“We’re part of the committee that welcomes new arrivals,” Panas said. “Haven’t had a lot of work lately, but the committee still exists. Usually we’re doing something else when there’s no one to show around.”
“Uh-huh.” Bear nodded. “What’s your work week like around here?”
“When I first arrived in Clavius,” Sonny said, “we were working fourteen hour days. Those were the initial days, when we were still spending a lot of time excavating the trenches. Then twelve hours, ten. Now eight. As more people—like yourselves—arrive and are trained, we’re looking at a six hour day in the near future.”
“Four hour work day isn’t out of the question,” Panas agreed. “And everybody gets a couple days off a week.”
“What do you do with your free time?” Gwen asked.
“There’s classes. People educate themselves, learn things,” Sonny said. “Best part about it for me is I get to spend a lot of time with Torrie.”
“What kind of classes?” Bear asked.
“Everything from martial arts to history to science,” Panas said. “There’s a lot of talent here in Clavius City and people want to share.”
“Panas and a couple of others teach Greek,” Danny said.
“Greek, huh?” Gwen asked. “Big turn out for that?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“What about people who can’t work?” Bear asked. “Or won’t?”
“Well, not surprisingly, to me at least,” Panas said. “We haven’t had many slackers. Everyone seems to want to contribute. Those that don’t? That hasn’t been a problem, at least not yet. But I suspect if and when someone gets it in their head to slouch, it’ll be tougher for them to do so when everyone around them is contributing and genuinely enjoying doing so.”
“And those that can’t, the infirm, the disabled,” Sonny picked up. “They’re provided for, taken care of. But we’ve had very few here that can’t do anything at all. There’s usually something someone can do, even if it’s reading stories to the kids at daycare. And I’m not saying that task is any less worthy than the others.”
“Which ones are yours?” Julie asked Sonya, sitting down next to her.
“Julie, right? The kid with the dark hair, you see him?”
There was a swarm of children running around and over Buddy, climbing over him where he sat cross legged on the floor. The big man had a goofy smile on his face.
“I see two boys with dark hair.”
“Nelson’s wearing a Disney t-shirt,” Sonya said. “At least that’s what Eva told me. She helped pick out his clothes. My daughter, Nicole, has the long hair.”
“Wow, her hair is long. She looks like you.”
“I’ve been told. The little one is mine too. Victor is almost three.”
“Oh, I see him.” The kid was playing with Sonny’s daughter, Torrie, who was popping up and down behind Buddy, saying “peek-a-boo” to the toddler. “He’s a cute one too, wow.”
“Thanks. He’s got a thing for stairs. Put him on a staircase and you’d think the kid was at Disneyworld. He loves walking up and down them.”
“That’s funny.”
Hayden knelt down to play with Victor. “Want to play fish?” She bent her index finger and put it within an inch of the toddler’s mouth. The kid immediately went for it. “You got the fish hook, you got the fish—oww!”
“Tris told us your friend is really good at killing zombies,” Sonya said.
“Well, I guess everyone’s good at something.”
“Sonya.” Eva came over and put her hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Lore and I have to go. Tris will help you and the kids get home tonight, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks, Eva.”
“Love you sis,” Eva kissed her sister, nodded over to Julie.
“It’ll be spring in a few days,” Lauren said.
Outside the rec center it was cold and their breaths plumed. The moon was full. The rec center sat in the middle of a strand of trees. Occasionally a sentry walked by, armed with a rifle, making her rounds.
“Yeah,” Mickey said. “I always liked spring. Fall too. Winter is too cold. And summer…”
“You don’t like the heat?”
“I like the air conditioning.”
“What do you miss the most about your old life?”
He didn’t hesitate. “My boy.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s funny, you know? I couldn’t talk about him for a long time. I mean, I always thought about him, but… Only recently could I talk about him. Maybe it has something to do with Julie and the baby.”
“Yeah, that’s a good thing, isn’t it? And now that you’re all here…”
“Can I tell you something, Lauren?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
“Singh told me not too. He said—”
Lauren looked at the man standing with her. “Ohhhh, Mickey. No, you don’t have to tell me it’s—”
“I have the plague,” he blurted it out, then looked to make sure no one else had been around to hear him. He couldn’t look at her while he waited for her to say something, so he stared up to the white “cool roof” of the rec center, designed to reflect heat in the summer.
“Singh told you not to tell anyone?”
“Yeah.” He looked into her green eyes.
“You need to listen to Singh. You can’t tell anyone. You shouldn’t have even told me.” She looked away.
“I know, I just… I get this feeling, like I can talk to you. Not trying to weird you out or anyt
hing.”
“No, you’re not weirding me out.” She sighed but then her spirits lifted. “Hey I know, let’s play a game.”
“A game?”
“Yeah, I’ll name one thing I liked about things beforehand, and you name one thing you didn’t like. And then we’ll switch. Got it?”
“I think so.”
“Okay, I go first. Penne a la vodka. I really liked penne a la vodka.”
“Oh man, me too.”
“No, you’re supposed to name something you—”
“Oh yeah, right, I got it. Fried bologna.”
“Fried bologna?” Lauren scrunched up her nose. “Yuck.”
“Yeah, yuck. When I was a little kid one of my grandmothers used to eat that crap. On toast. It was disgusting.”
“What I’d give for some over-priced caffeinated beverage,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“No, you’re supposed to—”
“Oh yeah, umm, you know what I don’t miss? The way—like when you’re chewing gum, okay?—the way a cold drink will make the gum harder in your mouth, but a hot drink, like coffee, will make it soft.”
“Reality television shows. Man, do I miss those!”
“What do you miss about them?”
“They were so entertaining. I mean, there’s something very compelling about watching a bunch of celebrity has-beens…”
“Yeah, hey, I don’t have to name a TV show now, do I?”
“No, anything you want.”
“Good. Any movie starring Nicolas Cage.”
“Even Face Off?”
“Any movie starring Nick Cage,” he repeated.
“Well, I don’t know about that—”
“Yeah, well, you’re a girl,” he corrected himself, “woman.”
“But I do think John Woo’s Hong Kong stuff was way superior to anything the MPAA allowed him to get away with here.”
He wanted to ask her if she’d marry him but figured that would weird her out, so he just said, “Agreed.”
“You know what I liked?” She looked wistful. “The top down, the wind in my hair, Don Henley on the CD player…”
“Bicyclists,” Mickey said.
“Bicyclists?”
“Yes. What is it with those guys? They take up a whole lane of traffic all to themselves like it’s their god-given right. I mean, you ever drive behind one of those guys or a group of them? If you went that fast in a car, cop would pull you over and give you a ticket for violating the minimum speed limit. But those motherfu—excuse me—those bastards think they’re entitled or something.”
“Wow. I never met someone who hated bicyclists so much.”
“Well, I mean, where do they think they are? Holland? Seattle? What about you—what’s something you miss?”
“My deck. I had a really cool deck out back on my apartment. In the afternoon, I could lay out in my lawn chair, settle back and read a book, sip some iced tea.”
Mickey got caught up in an image of Lauren in a bikini on the deck of her apartment.
“Your turn,” she said.
“My turn.”
“Sorry to break up this little party, Lore.” Eva came outside. “We have work to do.”
“Damn.” She had forgotten.
“You gotta go?” The disappointment in his voice was obvious.
“Yeah.” She felt the same way he did. “Hey, one last question before I go.”
“What’s that?”
“One thing you miss, about the world I mean.”
“That’s easy. All those things I said I didn’t miss, things I couldn’t stand?”
“Yeah?”
“Those are also all the things I do miss.”
“Let’s go, Lore.” Eva looked impatient.
“Damn. Hold your horses. We’ll continue this game some other time, okay?”
“You got it.” He nodded.
Lauren waited until they were out of ear shot and then turned to Eva. “You have to be a bitch about it?”
“We’ve got work to do. It is what it is.”
“You had to stand there and wait for me while…?”
“Look, let’s do this then you can get back to your little boyfriend there, okay?”
“Bitch. You know who you are? You’re the female Steve.”
“I’ve been called worse. Not much, but worse.”
“They’re hitting on your friend, aren’t they?” Sonya asked Julie. Julie laughed because for a blind woman Sonya didn’t miss much.
“Yeah, I guess they are.”
Gwen was talking to Isaak.
“How’d you know that?”
“I’m a woman. You’re a woman. They’re men. I may be blind, but the pheromones are overpowering in here. Let me guess which ones.”
“Go ahead.”
“Steve.”
“Yep.”
“Well, that was a given. Who’s she talking to now?”
“One of the younger guys. I don’t know his name. She’s been talking to Singh a lot too.”
“Hmmm.” Sonya nodded. “Good for the doctor. And good for your friend, Gwen, right?”
“Yes, Gwen.”
“Well, a few more weeks,” Sonya gestured at Julie’s belly, “they’ll be hitting on you.”
Time passed and the alcohol flowed. Several people bid their farewells and left, having to get up early for work. Someone had turned the stereo off.
A loose circle formed. Bear’s frame swallowed a chair next to Julie. Chris, in his Ultimate Warrior garb, was on Bear’s other side. Steve, with a couple of six packs in him, noticed Gwen was sitting next to Singh and considered this a challenge. Steve was sitting between Biden and Brent, and Tris was next to Sonya. Nicole slept on a chair aside her mother and had her head in Sonya’s lap. Sonya stroked her daughter’s hair. Hayden and Danny were part of the circle as well.
Victor was fast asleep on the other side of the room in his pack and play. Nelson had curled up on a bench and had his eyes closed. Torrie was knocked out on a couch, her little dress ridden up over her flowered purple bloomers. Panas remained standing, holding a fifth of vodka by the neck of the bottle. Isaak and Sonny stood on either side of him.
Remarkable, thought Mickey, seated next to Buddy, how children were able to sleep through so much noise. He figured it probably wasn’t that noisy. He was just tired.
“I knew an old man, before this,” Sonny was saying. “World War 2 veteran. Pacific theater.”
“Pacific thee-a-ter.” Danny was drunk and happy.
“Told me once he was in a foxhole with a few other guys. Grenade lands in the foxhole—”
“Hey, Danny,” everyone ignored Steve, “How’s your man hole?”
“—told me they’d trained them to grab the grenades and throw them out. But this one guy in the fox hole with him, he jumps on the grenade.”
“Yikes,” said someone.
“Yeah, but the grenade don’t explode right away. It doesn’t detonate for a few seconds. So this guy is hunkered down on it, waiting. He looks up, into the eyes of the old man I knew. And the old man told me, the look on the guy’s face… He knew he should have thrown it. He knew he didn’t have to die. Then it detonates. He’s gone.”
Crusade (Eden Book 2) Page 25
