RoboNomics

Chapter 37

I follow Chris to the end of the barricade. I watch as he slips into the legislature side door followed by Joe, Oz and Shari. No one else notices them. Police officers try to keep the metal barrier from being overwhelmed by the crowd.

I scramble up the steps. I look around furtively to make sure I’m not seen by anyone, then edge the heavy wooden entrance open and slip into the building.

Once inside, I look down the long hallway that’s supported by marble columns. I see robotic pages and human politicians milling about the central rotunda or striding from the western marble hallway to the oak-lined eastern wing. They carry leather cases and take-out coffee cups in their hands. The sound of the crowd is muffled inside the legislature. The business of running the provincial government goes on as if there's no one outside.

Beyond an empty security desk, I spot a washroom. The door is still swinging on its hinges.

“Anderson, what are you doing here?” Chris asks as I enter. The four of them are crowded between the pedestal sinks of the women’s washroom. They have red kerchiefs tied around their necks like farm workers. I recognize the bandanas from the day they destroyed the I.I.U., and my stomach lurches at the memory.

Shari, meanwhile, calls from one of the bathroom stalls. “What’s going on?”

“Anderson’s here,” Joe calls back. He leans his tall, burly frame against one of the bathroom stalls.

“What? Why?” She asks.

“Maybe I should ask why you're here,” I answer as Chris goes to the door and locks it.

He examines my face reproachfully. Then his face falls.

“I guess you’re a part of this now." He takes me by the arm and guides me to a line of sinks on the back wall. There, Oz bends over a length of pipe. It has wires sticking out of one end that wrap around the side. On top of the pipe is a tiny black computer screen. Oz prods at it with his rough, calloused hand.

“What is that?” My mind goes wild with guesses.

“God, you’re such a teacher, aren’t you?” Oz says. He smirks and raises an eyebrow. I gasp before I can stop myself.

“I knew it,” I turn to Chris. “I knew all along this thing would just devolve into violence.”

“Your way didn’t exactly work, did it?” He replies. “Besides, no one will get hurt. We just need to stop this vote. And the protest sure isn’t doing it.”

I look at him and then back at the pipe bomb. “This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” I am furious. “All this talk of the protest. That’s why you wanted it to go forward. That’s why you didn’t want to hear about anything else. You needed it. There are thousands of people out there and you’re using all of them as a distraction!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says. “This is just a backup that we came up with afterwards. You saw them, Anderson. You saw the politicians. They’re not stopping. Our protest is barely distracting them from the vote. Everything is going the way they want it to. But I’m not going to let them do it, Anderson. They’re not going to sell us all out.”

“And you want me to believe there’s no other way?”

“Maybe there is. But right now this is all we got. And you have to help us.”

“Help you?”

“Yeah. Like it or not, Anderson, you’re here now. You’re involved in this whether you like it or not.”

“It’ll get some attention. And at least it wasn’t made by bots,” Oz explains to me before I can argue with Chris any further.

Shari opens the stall door. We all turn as she shuffles, clad in that same grey suit she worn at Crescent Street Public school when I still worked there. The suit stands out against her dark skin.

“No. It won’t work,” Chris states.

“What? Why not?” She asks.

“We were on the news, remember? Someone might recognize you.”

“That was ages ago,” She points out.

But Oz shakes his head at her. “We only got one shot. We can’t screw this up.”

Chris looks around with his arms folded and his lips pressed together. He looks at me. “Anderson, you could do it.”

“Do what?”

“Yeah. You look professional,” Shari examines me.

“No,” I say as it dawns on me that they want to put me in the suit. I don’t know what they’ll want me to do after that, but I’m sure I don’t want any part of it. “I’m not doing anything for you. You people are not going to use me again.”

“You have to do it,” insists Joe.

“She doesn’t know what she’s doing,” exclaims Oz. “She’ll ruin everything.”

“Then we’ll have to tell her what to do, won’t we?” Shari replies.

“Come on, Anderson.” Chris approaches me where I stand near the door. “We can’t do this on our own and you’re the only one who looks like they belong here.”

“And what if I get caught?”

“You won’t,” says Joe.

“We got a press pass,” Shari takes it from around her neck and hands it to me.

“There’s some press offices above the chamber,” Chris explains. “All you have to do is leave it in there. Shari, where’s the bag?”

“Wait a second.” I put my hands up between my body and Chris’ body. “You want me to plant a bomb? You think I’m going to what? Stroll down the hall and just place a bomb in Queen’s Park?”

“Jesus, keep your voice down,” Oz says in a hoarse whisper.

Even though my hands are still up, Chris leans towards me. “Look, Anderson. I know it’s a lot to ask. But you came here for a reason. You followed us for a reason. You’ve been helping us this whole time. We might be doing different things, you and me, but we want the same thing, right? No one’s going to get hurt, I promise.” His voice is low, as if there is no one else in the room and he is sharing confidences with me. “We just need something to stop the vote -- something drastic to delay it.”

I look over his shoulder at the other three. They are looking at me with expectant expressions.

“If you’re not going to do it for the cause, then just do it for me.” It sounds like something Matt would have said, ten years back. During some clandestine coding session that he and I had together. The memory makes me realize that if I’m honest with myself, it’s not like I’ve never done anything illegal before.

I drop my eyes from Chris’ intense gaze and nod.

Moments later, I emerge from one of the washroom stalls wearing the suit. Shari is back to looking like herself in ratty jeans and a plaid button-up. I run a hand self-consciously through my dark hair as the four of them stare at me.

“Yeah, that’ll work,” says Chris.

“Much better,” agrees Oz.

Just then, the sound of chimes comes from the hallway.

“That’s the call to vote. You have to go, now.” Chris hands me the leather bag that I know contains the bomb and leads me by the elbow towards the door. He unlocks it, swings it open and I’m back in the marble corridor. High on the walls are round lights that stick out on gold-coated metal work. The lights pulse on and off in time with the chimes.

I glance down the hallway. A crowd of suits are mounting the central staircase. I walk to the side stairs with one eye on the politicians.

“Anderson, hurry up,” Chris hisses behind me. “We don’t a lot of time."