Revolution (20 page)

    Ken rubbed his hand gently over his own excessively tanned cheeks and sat down next to Peter on the steps to the upper bow. Despite the constant wind caused by the boat’s acceleration, Baxter’s hair still hadn’t moved a centimeter.

    “You know, Rayne, it took me years of training to be able to maintain a tan like this. A person can’t just lie out in the sun for a couple of hours a week and expect to have bronzed features. Tanning is a twenty-four hour adventure. I own three tanning booths in my home, Peter. I have one for each member of the family in case we all want to tan at the same time. How about you?”

    Rayne hardly heard a word Baxter said. He had turned toward the bow to see the great black wall of New Washington becoming clearer in the distance like a mountain looming ominously on the horizon. He saw that Ken, too, had turned his gaze toward the approaching land mass. The wind and salt air made them shield their eyes as the colossal gleaming structure of the Presidential Tower came into view above the gigantic black wall. The building itself was like a tremendous mirror, reflecting the deep blue afternoon sky and seeming to disappear into the sky backdrop.

    “So I guess you’re going to the Powerdrome, Rayne?” Baxter inquired.

    “The Powerdrome? Sure, I guess so,” Peter replied.

    “You don’t sound too sure about it. Have you ever been there before?”

    “Actually, no. This is my first visit to the park.”

    “What’s wrong with you? Are you out of touch, or what?” Ken asked. “You haven’t truly lived if you’ve never been there! It’s the most technologically advanced attraction in the park! They recently added Artificial Intelligence modifications to make it even more realistic. This will be my fourth visit to the ‘drome and I hear this year it’s better than ever.”

    “I hear it’s pretty good,” Rayne said, absently.

    Baxter’s mention of the Powerdrome brought his mind back to his mission. Tomorrow, he was supposed to infiltrate the Powerdrome using his Executive wrist code. Maybe Ken had a good idea after all. If he visited the Powerdrome attraction today as a tourist, it might give him a
heads up
for tomorrow’s mission.

    “So tell me more about these recent modifications,” Rayne said.

    “Have you been in a shell, or what? The Powerdrome’s modifications have been all over the Corporate Newsletters for the past year and a half! Where have you been?”

    “Too busy to read that crap!” Rayne exclaimed, losing his composure. “I have more important things to do with my time, Baxter, than to sit around reading about the latest modification in a theme park attraction!”

    “Okay, okay. Don’t get so defensive, Rayne. I’m sure you have an important job,” Ken said, raising his hands in a “surrender” gesture.

    “That’s right, Ken,” Peter said. “I’m an Executive for the Breechlere Corporation. I shoulder quite a bit of responsibility. I’m sorry I haven’t found the time to dabble in trivialities like amusement park rides.”

    “Okay, okay, Rayne, I get the point,” Baxter replied. “I’m busy too at my sales job at the Oriontech Corporation. The bottom line is you’re going to love it. The place is incredible and I’m basing it on last year’s standards. All the robots in the ‘drome have been updated with the latest AI technology to make their actions more realistic. This year is going to be the best year yet!”

    “It sounds great. I’m psyched to try it out,” Peter said.

    “You should be, Peter.”

    Ken paused for a moment as the armored Shock Trooper patrolling the bow walked by them. Rayne always felt a nervous tinge of dread whenever one of those android-like officers came nearby. Baxter continued his speech unhindered as soon as the Trooper ascended the steps to the upper deck.

    “The Powerdrome is the park’s latest, most advanced robotic attraction,” Ken said. “It was built about a quarter mile from New Washington’s western wall, so it would have access to the same underground power source that provides the city with electricity.”

    “Oh, okay,” Rayne said, pretending he was interested. He already knew this information from the schematics Campion had given him to memorize.

    Baxter pulled a small paper pamphlet out of the breast pocket of his beige suit jacket and handed it to Rayne. It was an ad for the Powerdrome. The words at the top of the pamphlet read: POWERDROME, A WORLD WITHIN A WORLD. Below that was the word FEATURING and then the page was divided into five rough squares containing the descriptions CRIME WORLD, GAMBLING WORLD, PREHISTORIC WORLD, DARK WORLD, AND SPACE WORLD.

    Pictures of realistic-looking 1920’s style mobsters, ancient armored knights, prehistoric cave men, and futuristic astronauts frozen into dramatic poses could be found in each box under the appropriate world.

    Rayne was becoming annoyed. While Executives like Ken were spending all their time salivating about the Powerdrome’s new AI upgrade, millions of so-called grunts were laboring at their miserable poverty-level jobs worrying about paying bills for necessities. His mischievous side was begging to come out and set Ken straight.

    “The government must have invested billions into the construction of Virtual-world, Ken,” Rayne commented. “Where do you think they got all the money?”

    “Where else?” Baxter replied. “Taxes.”

    “That’s true, Ken, but what programs do you think they cut to appropriate all that cash? Do you think they took money out of the country’s national defense budget to construct the Powerdrome?”

    “Of course not! Not this administration!” Baxter replied with a slight trace of anger leaking through his casual demeanor. “This administration isn’t weak on national defense! The War on Terror is still going strong and it won’t be long before we have the Middle East under control. The investment money was probably taken out of the program we spend too much money on already: welfare.”

    Baxter paused for a moment with a thoughtful expression on his face as if he was carefully considering his statement. He leaned forward and looked intensely into Rayne’s eyes like a mesmerist.

    “Don’t say it, Rayne. I know what you’re thinking. When you’re driving your anti-grav to work, you don’t have to look down too long to find the poor and the unemployed walking the streets or living in some old ground vehicle carcass. But the fact is there will always be poor and disadvantaged people in the world. It shouldn’t be the government’s responsibility to care for those who do not wish to care for themselves. The only way the government can help those people is to invest in businesses to create more jobs. Some businesses are simply too big to fail and need to be bailed out by the government when they run into trouble. If it wasn’t for the latest trillion dollar bailout of the technology sector, my company would have gone under and thousands would have lost their jobs.”

    “Ken, don’t take this personally, but I’m going to play devil’s advocate for a second,” Peter said, suppressing a grin. “Do you mind if I offer a slightly different opinion?”

    “I don’t mind at all, Peter. We used to debate the plight of the poor in college all the time for fun. Please continue.”

    “Well, Ken,” Peter said, feigning mock confidentiality in his voice. “The trillion dollar bailout of the technology sector was put into effect by the Frump Administration over eight years ago in 2047 and the unemployment rate is still over 20%. It hasn’t changed a single point for eight years! Don’t you think the bailout would have made a difference by now?”

    “Rayne, you know you can’t trust those liberal economists. They intentionally inflate the unemployment rate. All the major news commentators say the private economists are exaggerating and the rate really isn’t any higher than 18%. That’s over a million jobs saved since the bailout was put into effect.”

    “Ken, don’t you think it’s hypocritical for the government to give lip service to the sanctity of the free market and then give out billions of dollars to companies that fail?” Rayne asked.

    “Peter, I told you before, the major technology companies are too big to fail. Too many jobs are at stake to let them go under.”

    “The billions of dollars in bailout money would be better used if it was turned into tax breaks for the working men and women of this country,” Rayne said. “Ordinary citizens could then purchase more technology products, which would stimulate business growth. I’m not saying we give people handouts, Ken. I’m just saying we should let working people keep more of their hard-earned money rather than taxing them heavily to pay for massive bailouts. ”   

    Ken Baxter appeared to be baffled by the speech, as if he couldn’t believe another Executive was actually saying these bizarre things. He stood, flustered, and glanced toward New Washington’s great black wall looming on the horizon. He composed himself and sat back down, but the smile he gave Peter was not as wide as before.

    “Rayne, are you running for office, or what? You’re really great at playing the devil’s advocate. The simple truth is that over the last fifty-eight years, the citizens of this country must have had some faith in the Presidents they elected. Let’s face it. The twentieth century had more than its share of incompetent liberal Presidents, who brought us to the edge of ruin. The twenty-first century is different. We’re not a pathetic group of whining victims demanding their rights! We want a government that supports our largest businesses so we don’t lose our jobs to overseas competition! We want a government that keeps the economy going strong by investing in industry! That’s why we elect Presidents who share the same values. Do you understand what I’m talking about, or are you simply a grunt masquerading as an Exec?”

    Baxter paused to let his wayward student take in the information. Rayne wiped the incredulous expression from his face in favor of a neutrally considerate one. But at the mention of the word, “grunt,” and the idea of assuming someone else’s identity, all the color drained from his face. He sat tensely on the boat steps, staring into his acquaintance’s wide smile.

    Rayne decided that his only chance to avoid suspicion was to change his demeanor. Using all his willpower, he suppressed his disgust. He forced himself to grin while the wheels turned in his head for something relevant to say.

    “Ken, are you kidding me?” Rayne asked. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out we’re living in the best century in history. Technological progress has never been more impressive. American industry has made huge advances thanks to the government bailouts.”

    Now it was Ken’s turn to look surprised. He had not expected this 180-degree turn from a person who he guessed was sympathetic to the enemy. His face started to light up when he realized he was in the company of a true believer like himself.

    “Then, why’d you say that stuff before?” Baxter asked.

    “I was just taking the other side to see how you’d respond,” Peter said. “I agree with you completely. It’s common knowledge among the educated citizens of this country that the Presidents in the twenty-first century have been the greatest in our nation’s history.”

    “You’re right, Peter!” Ken exclaimed. “We started the century with one of our nation’s greatest Presidents. He was able to get a significant tax cut passed for the most successful people in the country who had been paying more than their fair share of taxes. Then, he saved the financial sector from collapsing by giving them the first 750 billion dollar bailout. His actions paved the way for President Newhouse and his 800 billion dollar bailout of the pharmaceutical industry in 2029. Without Newhouse and his successful policies, we never could have had President Frump and his trillion dollar bailout of the technology sector in 2047. The policies shaped by our twenty-first-century Presidents have kept our economy from collapsing and saved millions of jobs!”

    Ken paused in his speech at that point and Peter jumped in to fill the gap.

    “Absolutely, Ken! The government has to keep big business afloat to keep the economy sailing smoothly! Otherwise millions of jobs would be lost at sea!”

    Rayne decided to frame his behavior on shows he had seen on television where people proclaimed their beliefs to smiling televangelists.

    “You’re right, Peter! What the liberals have never been able to understand is that the majority of citizens in this country believe that laws protecting our largest, most important industries are more important to the economic prosperity of this country than unrealistic debates about the free market and equality.”

    “TWO MINUTES UNTIL ARRIVAL AT VIRTUAL-WORLD, FRUMP ISLAND, BREAK WATER,” a mechanical voice announced over the ferry’s intercom.

    Peter had enough of Ken’s attitude for a while. Sure, he was an intelligent guy. But compassionate? Not so much.

    Rayne didn’t want to seem rude, so he told Baxter he had to use the restroom. He escaped and walked around the front of the boat to the other side of the central cabins where he couldn’t be seen by his new acquaintance. He skimmed his fingers along the metal safety railing as he walked.  There was a sudden lurch and Rayne had to grab the railing as the boat slowed.

    “WELCOME TO THE NEW WASHINGTON EXECUTIVE ENTERTAINMENT FACILITY, VIRTUAL-WORLD,” the ferry’s loudspeaker stated. “THE GOVERNMENT IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY LOST ITEMS OR DEPENDENTS. YOU MUST HAVE YOUR EXECUTIVE GREEN PASSES CHECKED AS SOON AS YOU EXIT THE FERRY. AS ALWAYS, ENJOY YOUR DAY AT THE PARK. WE CALL YOUR ATTENTION TO THE NEWLY RENOVATED POWERDROME! PLEASE REMEMBER, THE ATTRACTION IS HIGHLY INTERACTIVE AND YOU PARTICIPATE AT YOUR OWN RISK.  THE FRUMP ADMINISTRATION IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR INJURIES CAUSED EITHER DIRECTLY OR INDIRECTLY BY ANY ENTITY LOCATED WITHIN THE POWERDROME OR THE OUTSIDE PARK. THANK YOU AND WELCOME!”