RoboNomics

Chapter 29

I’m taking a bagel from my lunch bag when Chris returns to the Group headquarters a few days later. He is surrounded by his ex-garbage collector colleagues just like the first time I saw him. Today, he smiles from ear to ear as he shakes hands with Bill.

The repetitive days at the office have helped me. It’s comforting to have something that resembles a work schedule. And I’ve become used to Chris’ absences. Henri, Miriam, Elizabeth and I field questions from our burgeoning staff. We talk on our FlexPhones with important players from school, union, and Ministry of Education. We compose letters and pamphlets that we send out to our growing email list of contacts. We employ the teachers’ skills in any way that will help the cause. The work is important to me; I do it for free.

“He does have a power, doesn’t he?” Elizabeth asks as she approaches the kitchenette.

“Pardon me?” I ask, stunned. I feel transparent, as if the contents of my mind have been turned inside out for her to examine. She nods towards Chris as he crosses the floor.

I look away from him to tend to my lunch. “I guess.”

“There are more people here now, aren't there? I think half of us are here just because of his passion. I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it.”

I'm stung by the implication that our public outreach has been ineffectual next to Chris and his relentless drive. “Yeah. It seems like we’re all just here to support him,” I say. My insides still burn at the thought of the protest going forward.

“Maybe,” she says. She goes back to gazing at the man in question and I follow her eyes. Perhaps it’s his smile, I think as I throw my lunch bag back into the fridge, leaving my bagel on the counter. I stride towards the group as they cross the floor to the stairs.

“Look, I just wanted to talk to you about something,” I say as I reach Chris’ side. He seems physically startled by my voice.

“Uh, okay. Come with me.” He glances back at Joe, Oz and Shari and makes for the attic meeting room. He takes the stairs two at a time and disappears.

I find him sitting at the head of the table. He pats the seat next to him. “Look,” I start to say as I walk towards him. "I wanted to ask you...are you really planning on holding the protest?”

“Yeah. Why, haven’t you being spreading the word? That is your job,” he remarks.

“Well, it’s not really a job, is it? It’s not like I’m getting paid,” I snap and cross my arms.

“I’m sorry -- I thought you cared about the cause. I didn’t think it was about money for you. Aren’t you teachers all supposed to love your job, isn’t it your calling?”

“And why are you here? Because collecting garbage is your calling?”

He rises. “What, you think you’re so much better than us? Is that is?”

“Not better, just different. I mean, all those labor trades...well, they involve really hard physical activity, mainly. Really damaging stuff, you know? You can easily see why everyone would want to automate those jobs, can’t you?”

“No, I can’t.”

“Mentally, it’s the easy stuff, isn’t it? It’s repetitive. No one really likes to do those jobs. It's not like they're fulfilling, like teaching was for me.”

“So you’re just fine with bots coming in and taking all our jobs?” It’s not really a question.

“But don’t you see? Now you’re free to take up a higher calling. Can’t you see the benefit in that?”

“A higher calling. Huh. And that would be a fulfilling job like teaching, would it? But that job doesn’t exist anymore either, does it? I guess that means you’re freed up for a higher calling too. And by the way,” he turns away from me as he speaks. “I did like my job. I just loved picking up trash.”

I’m sure he’s being sarcastic. No one could possibly love his job. Not the way I’d loved teaching children whose education was my responsibility. He’s just saying it to get a rise out of me. He’s just trying to show that he’s a man who will never back down.

He throws himself into his chair, crosses his arms and stares at the table. But his fury passes quickly. “Forget it, not even worth it. You can leave if you want.”

Leaving would mean throwing away my best chance at teaching again. It would mean spending my days at home, futilely filling in job applications that Austin found for me. Here, at least, I’m doing something productive.

“It’s just that I think you haven’t considered all the concerns that we raised.”

Chris looks up at me. “Look,” he says. “I need like-minded people around me. I do. I need people who are going to support what we do here. But I guess...I guess there are other ways of being committed to the cause.”

“There are,” I agree.

“Oz, Joe, Shari,” he lists the other garbage collectors. “They do whatever. They trust me to decide what’s next. I need someone around to tell me when I’m being an idiot.”

My eyes slide from his face to the table. “Okay.”

“What? Am I being an i***t right now?”

“I just don’t know what that means,” I reply. “You want me to do that…to follow you around whenever you disappear?”

“You don’t want a promotion?”

“How can you call it that?”

“Again about the money.” He throws his hands up. “I thought you were committed enough to fight for the cause because it's the right thing to do, not because it pays well. I thought you would use all your skills so that all of us can have justice. Anderson, do you really think leading that little group down there is using your skills? You’re remarkable and I’d hate to see you rot away down there. The worlds needs people like you: idea people. Asking any less of yourself than using all your abilities is a disservice to you and to everyone.”

“That’s a bit ominous. I really just want my job back.”

“Oh, come on,” his voice rises as he leans his chair towards me. “Anderson, you can’t tell me that’s all this is about for you. I’ve seen you down there. You’re a born leader,” he insists. “Like me. It’s not just about being a teacher again. They’re taking everything from us. Working at a chosen job, being able to contribute to the world. That’s what makes us human. They’re trying to take our humanity from us.”

“I don’t think it’ll come to that. They have to realize that it can’t keep going. When there’s no one left to make money off of.”

“Anderson!” He spontaneously clasps my hand that rests on the glass conference table. “You have to believe me on this. They won’t stop until the world’s turned inside out and they own everything."

I glance down at his hand on mine. My palm is hot and my arms tingle. “What do you mean, trust you? Who are 'they'?"

"I..." He glances away. "I can't tell you that."

"Fine. Get someone else to bounce ideas off of. I’m going home.” I take my hand from his and head for the door.

“Anderson, wait --” he says. But I don’t stop. “What if I told you I could get your job back for you?”

I stop at the top of the stairs. “I’d listen.”

“Please, come and sit.” Over my shoulder I can see him gesture at my vacant chair. “All those corporate leaders,” he says as I walk back. “All those greedy CEOs and executives who whine about making billions instead of trillions -- they should just all cease to be.”

“What do you mean cease to be?” I ask, a little taken aback.

“The world would be a better place without them.”

“What -- what are you saying?”

“Don’t you agree with me?”

My mouth snaps shut. “I don’t think anyone should cease to exist. I just think they should make different choices. What if I were in their place? What if you were?”

“Ha! Spoken like a true teacher,” he says in mock amusement. “They’ll never make different choices, Anderson. There's nothing you can say to persuade them not to exploit people.”

“I don’t think I could know that for sure,” I say.

“Well, I could know it for sure. And I do.”

“How?”

“I just do.”

“Even if that were true, I don’t think either of us has the right to say who should live and who shouldn’t. That’s not really our call, is it?”

He examines me, his mouth moving as if he would shout. But he just sighs instead. “Forget it. Just ranting, I guess.”

“Okay,” I say. “So what about me? What do I have to do to get my job back?”