RoboNomics

Chapter 42

In the corner of our kitchen is a cupboard with glass-paneled doors. As I open it, I realize that it's always been my favorite feature of the room. It's high above my head and I stand on tiptoes to reach it. I take down one of the plates to look at its smooth white surface and silver stripe. It's our wedding china. It was the most expensive item on our wedding registry. The day we picked it out, we wandered around Hudson's Bay, glancing at the stuffy floral patterned china sets. And then it finally appeared: a simple white set with a single silver stripe around the edge of the plates and the tops of the coffee mugs.

When we got married, Austin's parents came down from Montreal for the ceremony. They bought every last piece of this china for us. Then when we first moved into this house together, I would look at our new china and imagine the dinner parties we'd host and how we'd bring out our beautiful wedding china to impress the guests. But I know we're not going to need it anymore. This is where it will stay.

I worry about Austin's parents a lot these days. We keep calling them, especially during these past few months. By all reports, things aren't much better in Montreal than they are in Toronto, and Austin has been terrified that Christine and Grant, his parents, would lose their pension.

But they always insist they're okay. They are retired, and make quips about owning their home and having old age security. Unlike us, they don't have a mortgage so they even offer to lend us money. But Austin has always been too proud to take money from his parents. He never has, he's said to me untold times, not since before he was fifteen and got his first job at a fast food joint.

We have no other family to worry about, so I worry about my friends instead. I haven't reached out to them since the riot. But that doesn't make me stop thinking about how they must be doing.

I did hear from Henri, once, before our phone and Internet service was cancelled due to lack of payment.

"Andrea!" He shouts down the wireless line. "I've been trying to call you for days!"

"I know," I say. "I'm sorry. I can't afford caller ID anymore and I thought it might be the bank calling."

"You could have come see me."

"I...I know. I didn't want to bother you at home, I guess." It's a lame excuse. I don't want to seen out on the street. Not if I could bump into Chris. "And I was afraid that I tried to find you at the Protest Group Office --"

"Afraid?"

"I can't go back there, Henri. Not anymore. It's too dangerous." It's been a month since the riot. A month of watching my back, of avoiding the main boulevards, a month of sleepless nights, and of worrying how and when I'll lose my husband, my freedom, or both. I've had more than one good reason to avoid anything or anyone connected to the Protest Group, including my friends.

One of the reasons to stay away from major boulevards is one that I don't need to explain to Henri. Before we lost Internet service, we saw the reports of growing street violence and unrest in the city. Ever since the riot, everything had changed. People are getting desperate. Young people riot every time they see a bot or an official or a RoboNomics or iTronics executive. They take people's bots, tear them up, use what's left to build "protest installations" on the street corners.

"Hey, it's not like I've been back there," says Henri. "Not since just after the riot."

"Wait a second. You were there after the riot?"

"Yeah. Elizabeth and I went. When we didn't hear from you, we thought we'd try and figure out what happened to everyone."

"And?"

"It was the weirdest thing. The building was locked. I mean, it was like they had changed the lock or something. We couldn't get in."

"What do you mean you couldn't get in?"

"I don't know why. But there were definitely people inside there, Andrea." He tells me what they saw. There were shaggy men and women coming and going. They all wore the same emblem on their black armbands: The letters AR in a circle, embroidered in red.

"That's weird," I muse. "If it weren't for the R, that symbol would stand for anarchist."

Henri tells me that eventually, he and Elizabeth stopped one of the guys heading into the building and asked him what was going on.

"He tried to just get rid of us. He told us it wasn't safe for us to be there. But I figured if I asked for Chris, he might pay attention."

"So, what? The guy let you in?"

"Not exactly. Chris came to the door to see us but he wouldn't let us in the building."

"What did he say to you?" I can't disguise the anxiety in my voice.

"He said the Group was disbanded. He told us it would be safer if we just got lost."

As I recall the conversation with Henri, I put the plate back lovingly on top of its mates. The doorbell rings, startling me out of my reverie. "I'll get it," I call up the stairs to Austin. He's in the bedroom, trying to figure out how many of our clothing we can do without if we have to leave our home.

"Elizabeth," I exclaim when I open the front door. I'm not sure who I was expecting to find there. Maybe I thought it would be Chris. Or the bank to tell us that it's time to leave.

"Hey, Andrea." She stands on the front step under our wooden porch. She pulls at a thread on her shorts and frowns at me.

"What's wrong?" I ask. "I've been meaning to talk to you about what happened after the protest," I add quickly.

"I bet you have." She levels me with a sharp look. "Look, I came here because I need to talk to you. Can we?" She gestures towards the street.

"Sure." I step out of the door and close it behind me. "You want to go to the patio?"

"Yeah, okay." We round the side of the house and I sit in one of the dark wicker chairs.

Elizabeth paces across the patio stones. "Is it Miriam?" I ask as my stomach drops. "Did something happen to Henri?"

"No, it's not them, Andrea." She stops in front of me. "It's you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you. Haven't you ever heard that expression, 'chicks before d***s?'"

"Elizabeth, what are you talking about?"

"We're your friends, Andrea. We're the ones who were always there for you. And at the first sign of trouble, what did you do? You took off. Oh, I'm sure you were off somewhere having a great old time with Chris while the rest of us –"

"Elizabeth, please." I stand up and glance at the open kitchen window just above us. "Keep your voice down."

"Why?" She follows my gaze to the window. "What are you hiding?"

I take her by the arm and guide her out of the backyard and towards the street.

"Andrea, what are you doing? What's going on?"

I don't answer until we've put half a block between us and my house. I stop and turn to her. I open my mouth to say something, but I can't even look her in the eye.

"Andrea, what is this all about? What happened the day of the protest? Where did you go?"

"Something happened," I say. She waits for me to continue as I shift my weight from one foot to the other. "Between Chris and me."

"Andrea! Who are you? I defended you to Henri. I was convinced my friend wouldn't do anything like that."

"Listen, stop," I try to calm her. "It's not like that."

"Oh, really? Then tell me, what is it like?"

"Well, I mean...we did kiss but Elizabeth, nothing else happened. He threatened me, okay?"

"Threatened – wait, I don't understand. You kissed him and then he threatened you? With what?"

"No, look," I sigh. "For the record, he kissed me."

"What are we, in grade school? What does that matter?"

"He kissed me and then we were hiding from a riot bot and we fell asleep."

"Oh, come on," she throws her hands up.

"Nothing happened. Elizabeth, I swear. You have to believe me. You said it yourself, you're my friend. If you don't believe me then...I don't know. I don't know what will happen."

"Yeah, Andrea. I am your friend. And as your friend I have to tell you that you're playing with fire here. Who do you think you are? Cheating on Austin like that when he's been nothing but supportive?"

"Hey, don't you think I know that? Don't you think I would have stopped it if I could? But now it really is dangerous, Elizabeth, okay? He threatened me. I went back to the office the next day and I..."

"You what?"

"I saw something I shouldn't have. And then Chris said he was going to tell Austin that I slept with him if I told anyone what I saw."

She comes closer. She stands so close our shoulders are nearly touching. "What was it?" She asks quietly. "What did you see?"

"Didn't you just hear what I said? I can't tell anyone."

"Andrea. This is bullshit, okay? Look, Henri and I followed you to that group. We helped you every step of the way. And how do you repay us? You abandon us for that creep. You go off with him and are unfaithful to your husband while the rest of us are running from the damn cops. Miriam was hit with tear gas. Did you even know that?"

"No, but I couldn't see anything –"

"Of course you couldn't. Because when it was all over, we couldn't find you anywhere. We haven't even been able to leave you a message for two weeks, and you haven't even tried to call us"

"That's because I can't afford a phone anymore," I burst out. "Look, I've got my own problems, too, you know? I'm supposed to know everything that's wrong with you people? I can't think about that right now. I'm about to lose my home, Elizabeth."

She's silent as we both look at the ground. The spring is still so young that grass hasn't started to grow between the cracks of the sidewalk. But the heat has come up fast. The trees are only just budding and we're out on the street without any jackets.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asks at last.

"I don't know. I just didn't want you to feel obliged to give us a room or anything."

"You could, you know. You two could stay with me."

"It's fine. We'll just find an apartment somewhere."

"This can't be happening. It's so surreal. I can't believe you're losing your house."

"How are you doing?"

"Oh, don't worry about me. I'll get through. I have enough money for awhile yet."

"How much longer do you think you'll have to last?"

"I don't know, Andrea. I really don't. No unions. It's unreal. I just – before all this happened I never thought the government would let anything like this ever happen to us."

"Yeah."

"So you really can't tell me what you saw that day?"

"I'm not sure I should get you involved in all that."

"Hell, I am involved. I lost my job, too, didn't I? I'm a part of the group, too, aren't I? Or at least, I was."

I pause for a long moment and weigh the options in my mind. I wonder what the consequence of telling her would be. I know she'd keep any information confidential if I asked her to. But would that mean she might be in danger as well? I sigh, already feeling what I'm about to choose. I just need to say it out loud. I need to have one other person in the world who can share the burden of this knowledge.

"Okay, look. I'll tell you what I saw. But you have to promise me that you won't tell anyone else."