Jennifer Government: A Novel (31 page)

H
e called Nike’s Melbourne office and reached John’s personal assistant. She sounded flustered and upset: she told him she’d only started the job yesterday. Buy suspected his message was one of a great many she had taken. He said, “Tell him it’s from the guy who sent you a bunch of flowers.”

“Pardon me?”

“You sound like you’re up to your neck in it,” Buy said, “so I’m sending you a big bunch of flowers. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“That’s… Buy Mitsui? I’ll make sure he gets your message.”

“Thank you,” he said, and hung up, pleased. He didn’t have anything to do until John called back, so he decided to go pick out the flowers himself. He grabbed his jacket and caught the elevator down.

In the lobby, he bumped into Cameron. Cameron looked tired and stressed, and Buy wondered if something had happened. Or maybe everyone in brokerage looked like this, but he hadn’t noticed before. “Hi, Cameron.”

“Buy? Where are you going?”

“To get some flowers.”

“Flowers? What do you need flowers for?”

“To send to a secretary.”

“You listen to me,” Cameron said. “I didn’t twist arms to get you this assistant Liaison job so you could hide out on the eighth floor. I’ve given you as much support as I can. It’s time for you to find some goddamn motivation.”

“Cameron, wait,” Buy said. “I’m—”

“Everyone else is breaking their backs for this company, Buy. Maybe you don’t care about that. But we won’t carry you forever. Unless you start producing, we will replace you. So if you need something to care about, care about that.”

“I have something to care about,” Buy said. “Really.” He glanced at his watch. Kate was out of school in a couple of hours. He had promised to pick her up.

First they told her to board the Government jet with Billy NRA and accompany the President back to Washington, D.C. When she questioned the wisdom of putting Billy on the same aircraft as the man he was trying to kill, they told her to stay in London and wait for a later plane. Then two-thirds of the Government’s upper echelon nosedived into the Atlantic, and everything turned to shit.

Her transport got postponed, or canceled: nobody told her which. There were agents twenty deep for the phones, and after standing in line for two hours, she got five minutes to talk to Kate
before a departmental officer commandeered the line. Then she walked back to her secured barracks to discover a bunch of Government agents from Japan were moving in. “You’re meant to be gone,” they said.

“But my transport isn’t here yet.”

“Not my problem, sunshine,” the Japanese agent said, and Jennifer went looking for someone who could sort this out.

“Some Japanese guys are trying to take over my barracks,” she told the Staff Chief.

“Aren’t you meant to be in Washington?”

“Yes. I don’t have a transport.”

“Well, those barracks are meant to be free.”

“But they’re not.”

“Look,” he said. “Jennifer? Let me be clear. I don’t know who my boss is anymore. I have a campus filled with agents who don’t know what they should be doing. I have bigger problems than sorting out your accommodation.”

“Then am I authorized to use my initiative to find a solution?”

“What a terrific idea,” the Staff Chief said.

“Thank you, sir!” Jennifer said. She walked out quickly. That was just fine.

“I
’m sorry,” the US Alliance man said. “John isn’t here anymore. Most top management flew back to L.A. yesterday. Which newspaper did you say you were from?”

“To L.A.? You’re sure?”

“I’m positive. I can try to arrange a phone interview, if you like.”

“That’s okay,” Jennifer said. “I’ll set something up myself.”

“W
ake up,” she said, flicking on the light. “We’re leaving.”

Billy NRA raised his head from the bunk, dazed. “Leaving? Where?”

“We have a plane to catch.”

“You can’t take me outside! The NRA will kill me!”

“Don’t worry. I’m very good at this.”

They met Calvin at the airport. He’d been sent to a different Government campus, and he turned up twenty minutes late. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. The roads
curve
. They go in circles. I nearly ended back where I started.”

“Can we go inside, please?” Billy said. “I really think we should go in.”

“What’s with him?”

“He thinks US Alliance is going to try to kill him.”

“Are they?”

“I guess,” she said.

At the counter, the American Airways clerk said, “I’m sorry, ma’am, you can’t board this flight. As of noon today, we’re not permitted to offer flights to the Government.”

“Excuse me?”

“Our flights are for US Alliance cardholders only.”

“I have a US Alliance card,” Calvin said, feeling his pockets. “What’s your name, sir?”

“Calvin…McDonald’s.”

“Can I see some ID, please?”

“Uh,” Calvin said. “No.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t book Government.”

They walked away from the counter. Billy said, “What’s going on?”

“Billy, get three tickets, will you?” Jennifer said.

“By
myself?”

“I presume you have a US Alliance card,” she said. “You probably get assassin stars.”

“Man, the NRA is going to pop me. You call this an escort?”

“I’m sure they won’t pop you,” Jennifer said. “Go, go.”

Billy threw her a look of betrayal and walked up to the counter. For a moment she thought he was going to approach the same ticket girl. Then he veered off. She watched the people around him, looking for a head coming up, for hands reaching into pockets.

“We can’t even catch a flight, now,” Calvin said. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.”

“And how come the Government wants us in L.A.? I thought we were going to Washington.”

“They told me to use my initiative.”

Calvin looked at her. “What?” “John’s gone to L.A.”

“Jen,”
he said. “We’re meant to go to Washington.”

“Yes, yes,” Jennifer said. “After.”

“S
o one jet goes down,” she said, tucking the pillow behind her back, “and the Government is paralyzed. How did we get that centralized? We’re not meant to be about individuals. We’re meant to be for the masses.”

“They used to fly the top people in different planes,” Calvin said.

“Well, why did that stop?”

“Budget, I suppose.”

“You know, this all started when they got rid of tax. That’s when everyone started buying out of society. When we had tax, we had a
community.”

“Dudes,” Billy said. “Do you have to yak? I’m really tired.”

“Shut up,” she said.

“At least sit next to each other. Come on, I’m getting this in stereo.”

“Shh,” Calvin said. “What, you want to reintroduce tax? How do you do that?”

“I don’t know,” she muttered. “But somewhere along the line, this freedom stuff got way out of control.”

“You’ll feel better once we arrest John Nike,” Calvin said.

“Yeah,” she said. “You’re right about that.” She closed her eyes.

McDonald’s had taken a long time to get a foothold in the Melbourne Central mall. Until then, the only place to get grease-burgers was at a little shop named Aussie Burgers, which, Hack had read somewhere, fought hard to keep the Golden Arches out. But then one day he stopped by and Aussie Burgers was gone. Facing its empty shell was the biggest McDonald’s Hack had ever seen, spanning three levels and four shop frontages. It was packed with customers.

Hack had never eaten at Aussie Burgers, but now that it was gone he wished he had. He was glad to be making it up to them now. He tightened his grip on his duffel bag and walked into McDonald’s.

It was crammed with suits, mothers with toddlers, and truant school students. Hack scanned the crowd for Claire, and found her on the other side of the store, leaning against the counter. She met his eyes and smiled. Hack smiled back.

“Hack! Hey!”

He turned. It was Thomas, the kid who spray-painted over-obvious slogans on Hack’s billboard jams.

“Man, this is cool. Are you ready?”

“Where’s Leisl?” Hack said.

Thomas’s face fell. “I don’t think she’s coming.”

“What?”

“I don’t think this is her kind of thing, man. She doesn’t want to get into trouble.”

“Oh,” Hack said. Well, that was okay: three would do. He looked over at Claire and nodded. She began climbing onto the counter.

She was very nimble: she had those long legs up while Hack was still grabbing at the cash register for leverage. Thomas clambered up too close behind and nearly knocked him off.

“What—what are you doing?” a McDonald’s clerk said.

“Don’t worry,” Hack said, looking down at him. “No one’s going to get hurt.” He opened his bag, pulled on thick gloves, and turned to the crowd. “McDonald’s rapes the environment! It pillages Third World countries for their natural resources to serve us greasy, unhealthy food! McDonald’s is a member of US Alliance, which killed people in London! It invades our neighborhoods and forces out small business! It advertises to children!”

“Baby killers!” Thomas yelled, and kicked the cash register. Hack resisted a sigh.

The customers were looking at him, smirking. Claire said, “McDonald’s poisons our lives for profit! So we are going to poison McDonald’s!”

Hack withdrew a large tin from his duffel bag and jumped down behind the register. The clerk cringed away from him. “Excuse me,” Hack said.

“Everybody out!” Claire shouted. “We’re releasing dangerous chemicals! Get out and never come back! It’ll never be safe to eat here again!”

They began fitting their gas masks, and that broke the crowd. Hack guessed you didn’t want to see people snapping those things on while you sat there with your burger and shake, vulnerable. They stampeded toward the exit. The screaming hurt his ears.

Hack turned toward the kitchen. The staff were strangely frozen, even as he popped open the tin. He shouted, “Get out of
here!” His words were muffled by the mask. “Dangerous!” He dipped into the tin and drew out a gloveful of green powder.

They ran. Hack tossed the powder around, hitting the frying dishes, the benches, the roof, everything. It sizzled and blistered where it touched the hot plate, throwing off a thick, noxious, green smoke. He watched it, fascinated. It really looked like the most toxic thing he’d ever seen.

Someone grabbed his shoulder. He could barely see Claire’s eyes through the mask. She tapped her wrist. He nodded and heaved the remaining powder, dropped the tin, and scrambled back over the counter. They held hands as they ran for the exit.

Customers were gathered thirty feet outside the store, but as the three burst out, they scattered again. Hack’s spirits lifted further. No security guard would catch them in this confusion.

He pulled off the gas mask and stuffed it into his bag. They clattered down three levels of concrete stairs, followed a long maintenance corridor, then stepped out onto bustling Bourke Street.

“Wow!” Thomas said. “That was cool! That was
so cool
!”