Freedom Incorporated (41 page)

“
Never been
there myself,” Dan said, having no idea of the horrors she was
repressing. I
t had once been
a quaint seaside town with a gorgeous harbour and
a wildlife sanctuary on Mutton-bird Island
,
a short stroll across the
breakwater
. But
it
had changed, morphing into something insidious when the population
exploded faster than the local economy could sustain.
The influx
started before
portal technology made the coast accessible to everyone, back in
the early twenty-first century when adjammers were still
campaigning against the negative onslaught of globalisation. By the
time PortaNet had flooded the market with portals it was too
late
.
D
ecent citizens shunned the place and
headed elsewhere for their slice of paradise. Coffs Harbour turned
into a haven for the poor and repressed, where jobs were scarce and
industry dumped noxious chemicals on the nearby banana plantations.
People were ignoring the warnings as
late
as the 1990s, at which time the
local council still used dangerous pesticides and herbicides to
keep pest populations under control. Nobody was willing to heed the
statistics when people started becoming sick. It wasn’t long before
Coffs Harbour had thoroughly earned its reputation for the highest
incidence of cancer in the southern hemisphere. The council had
finally cleaned up its act but local industry continued to
use
carcinogenic
chemicals and the sickness spread, passing from one generation
to the next. Hideous deformities were at a record high and birth
defects were the norm. It saddened Jen to think her grandfather had
picked Coffs Harbour as
the
place to settle in such a broad continent.
And why move at all?
She
still didn’t have a plausible answer.
What
was wrong with America?
The chemicals had
left their mark on Jen too – a rare blood disorder that threatened
her life whenever her stress hormones
rose
too high. Several of her friends had died from the disease during
puberty
,
and she’d
lost another two to incurable forms of cancer. Poor health was just
one of the underlying problems for the region, economic gloom and a
host of social
issues
ran rife. Jen was glad to be free of the nightmare. True,
Coffs Harbour was a lot cleaner these days, but she still wished
her father had possessed the wisdom to abandon ship like the rest
of the sensible population.

“
Well you’re
better off that way, trust me,” Jen said around a mouthful of
toasted muesli.

“
What about
your parents?” Dan probed.

“
What about
them?” Her spine stiffened defensively.

“
Well…” Dan
prompted. “You met mine. What about yours?”

She flinched behind a
smile. “What do you want to know? My father still lives in Coffs
Harbour and works for Hydro-Tech, of all companies. He’s part of
their Australasian management team, in charge of water quality if
I’m not mistaken.”

“
Not
bad.”

“
Oh really?”
Jen retorted. “Except his corporation has the gall to hold our
lives for ransom. They charge whatever they want for their products
and we have no choice but to pay. Did you know they mark up by
three
thousand
percent?” She didn’t wait for a reply
,
but took delight
in Dan’s surprise. “Poor
people can’t afford drinking water so they filter tap water until
their bodies are so clogged with that
pink
chemical shit they just roll over
and die. And do you think Hydro-Tech gives a damn? Hell no, they
hike up the price and poison the next rank of the economically
disadvantaged.” A furious gleam twinkled in her eyes, declaring her
vehement opposition to her father’s work. “Now my mother…” She
sighed, letting go of her anger. “She lives in America. I don’t
visit her as often as I should.”

Dan remained silent,
surprised by her emotional outburst.

“
My parents
are ‘amicably separated’; though they may as well call it divorce
since that’s what it really is.” Jen shrugged. “One day my Mum just
said she was tired of the international security sweeps and wanted
to move to America to be closer to her work. Well! Who would’ve
thought people would need to move closer to their job at the dawn
of the transportation age?”

“
I’m sorry,
Jen.”

She didn’t
hear him. “I was twelve when she left and I didn’t see her again
until I was fifteen. Can you imagine what that feels like? To an
adolescent? She didn’t even visit on weekends
. Jesus,
it
would’ve
only take
n
fifteen minutes, if that.” Jen chewed
another spoonful before continuing, “I heard she found herself a
boyfriend.” She shrugged. “I haven’t seen her in, uh, maybe two
years now. She came to see me on my birthday with Mr Perfect in
tow.” A tinge of sadness had crept into her voice but she banished
it and went on, “My grandfather was always there for me though. I
miss him.”

What could he
say?
Nothing.
Nothing that came to mind would fit the circumstances. Dan was
amazed she hadn’t turned out bitter.
Like
me.
Here was a woman who’d suffered just as
much as anyone, but had surmounted her problems with guts and
determination. Dan had no idea whether he’d have coped as well as
her if their situations had been reversed.

She was finished her
muesli and was silently playing with her spoon until curiosity
itched her tongue. “Okay, now it’s your turn.”

“
For what?”
Dan deliberately misunderstood, delaying the inevitable.
“You’ve
met
my
parents.”

“
Who do the
pretty photographs on your mantle belong to?”

“
Why, to me of
course.” Dan’s
acerbic
mood was getting progressively worse. He inhaled sharply and
lowered his gaze. “She was my wife.”

“
Was?” She
knew she couldn’t stop, not once she’d begun.

Dan fiddled with the ring
on his finger, twirling it around and around. It was rose gold, the
traditional yellow had never suited the tone of his skin. Engraved
on the inner rim was the symbol for infinity – the sign he and
Katherine had shared to encompass their feelings. She had worn a
matching ring, now buried in the Andamookan cemetery. “She died
last year.”

Jen bit her lip. “Oh, Dan
I’m so sorry.”

“
Yeah, me
too.” He smiled wanly. “Look at us, sitting here sharing sob
stories. Shouldn’t we be thinking about the future instead of the
past?”

Jen bravely worked a
smile onto her face. “I suppose we should.”

“
So what do
you want now?”

She shrugged and looked
into his eyes. “I could ask you the same. Are you going to return
to bounty hunting after you’ve finished with us?”

That was the essence of
his dilemma, the very question he’d been trying to answer for much
of the night. “I don’t honestly know.”

She looked
dreamily hopeful. “
I guess my plans
depend o
n
whether we can still be activists
wherever we land.”

“
I wouldn’t
think so,” Dan shook his head. “Too dangerous.”

“
Then I’d like
a quiet patch of the world where I can be myself, not have to worry
about the grind of capitalism, and spend my time collecting shells
on the beach.” She smiled brightly, eliciting a half-laugh from
Dan. “Of course I’d prefer to sail around the world in a catamaran,
but that’ll have to wait for the day I win the lottery.”

“
Ah yes, the
lotteries: a tax levied against those poor at mathematics.” Dan
took their dirty bowls to the sink and splashed some pink water in
them.

“
Why don’t you
come?” Jen was suddenly serious.

“
What?” It
stopped Dan in his tracks.

“
Well, you
don’t seem particularly happy where you are. Why don’t you come
with us? We could always use another friend, no matter where we end
up.”

The thought
hadn’t occurred to him. So much of his miserable life was in
Andamooka.
Is it,
really?
He looked around.
Is there anything here that would stop me from
walking away?
He had to admit no, there
wasn’t.

Jen blinked, a thrilling
buzz sizzling in her mind. She liked him and hoped he’d accept, yet
at the same time she was terrified by the prospect. She waited
impatiently for his response and cursed the ambiguity of his
expression.

“
I don’t
know.” Dan scratched at the stubble on his chin. “I’ll think about
it.”

“
No pressure,”
Jen said, concealing her relief. “Just wanted you to know you’re
welcome. To come. If you want, I mean, that is, uh… you
know?”

“
Thanks.” Dan
offered her a calloused hand over the counter. She graciously
accepted and he gently embraced her slender palm with both of his.
“I’ll think it over, okay?”

She nodded, mesmerised by
his touch. “When do we leave?”

Dan checked his watch,
then the calendar on his fridge. “That depends on Cookie. How long
will it take him to undermine Echelon?”

“
Y
ou
don’t mind
that we’re doing that?
” Jen looked
surprised.

“
Sure, why
not? I figure you deserve a chance.” He tilted his head to an
unusual angle. “It’s not as if I’m an advocate for all that
monitoring crap. It has some advantages but not enough to
warrant
the consequences
.”

Jen couldn’t
have agreed more. “
I
ts biggest achievement is in lining UniForce’s
pockets.”

“
How about two
days?” Dan wondered how long the Raven would take to find them. He
was sure the cyborg was tracking them,
but
t
wo days felt like a safe
margin.

“
If Cookie
can’t do it in two days then it can’t be done.” She smiled and
squeezed his hand in reply. “Where are you taking us
anyway?”

“
You’ll see,”
Dan said vaguely. “You’ll like it, I’m sure.”

“
It’s on the
coast then?” Jen asked, hopeful.

“
You’ll see,”
he said again, the only answer he was willing to give. In truth, he
had no idea. But he had two days to come up with
something.

He yawned and slumped
back onto his stool.

“
You must be
exhausted,” Jen said and began soothingly massaging the knots from
his back.

“
I’m okay,”
Dan lied uncomfortably. “I’m used to it.”

Cookie shuffled languidly
into the room, holding Samantha’s impish hand. “Yo, mornin’ guys.”
He patted his stomach, which growled on queue. “I’m starving,
what’ve you got to eat?”

*

Friday, September 17,
2066

UniForce
Headquarters

15:07 San Francisco,
USA

James was
close to collapse.
Seven hours sleep in
three days… madness!

“
Not there!”
Esteban was ready to take his frustration out on Michele with his
fists. “You stupid fucking bitch.” He shoved a knuckle into his
mouth and bit hard before he slapped her across the cheek. “You’re
doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

She looked at him with
big, innocent eyes. “No I’m not.”

“
Then why
don’t you fucking understand?” Esteban pointed at the screen one
last time. “Look, that’s where you click to sort the fields. If you
want to sort by date, click on the date. If you want to sort by
surname, click on surname. It’s not that fucking hard to understand
is it?”

She played with the mouse
and clicked seemingly at random. “But when I click on this one I
lose the rest of the records.”

A nerve
started twitching in the corner of Esteban’s eye and he turned
away.
Inhale, exhale… inhale,
exhale.
It was times like these that he had
to remember to breathe.

“
It’s
filtering somehow, isn’t it?” Michele asked innocently.

“
For the last
time, no! It’s not filtering, it’s
sorting.
That’s all.”

“
Then why does
it get rid of some of the records?”

Esteban
couldn’t believe she could be so clueless. He felt like punching
her in the back of her neck just to hear the sound of snapping
bones. Anyone else and he wouldn’t have hesitated.
You’re lucky you’re so good at sucking
cock.
“Forget it.” He couldn’t take it
anymore. “Okay! You’re right! It’s filtering.”
Believe what you want, bitch.

Michele played some more.
She had a record highlighted and each time she clicked a sorting
field it shot to the top of her screen. The records she kept
‘losing’ were merely pushed above and she didn’t have the savvy to
scroll with her mouse to find them. As far as she could ascertain,
the buttons Esteban had indicated were filtering the records with a
confusing set of rules.