Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) (6 page)

The
haven of abstract thought proved such a relief that Jeff was able to
objectively examine his close call, and to reflect on the explosive growth of
gangs. He could not avoid concluding there was a direct relationship between
the stunning advances in technology and rapid failure of social infrastructure.
With a sour grimace, he thought, What infrastructure? What did society have
left in its system of reward and punishment except punishment?

One
percent of the population controls ninety-eight percent of the wealth, the rest
starve or are no better than indentured servants. Unless you start on the
inside, know someone on the inside, or have an indispensable skill, forget it.

Jeff
reviewed his own prospects at the university. The possibility of becoming
tenured was fading rapidly. He had already seen a well-connected instructor
junior to himself pass by over Dr. Hildebrand’s objections. I’ve just got to
hang on and socialize more, he thought anxiously. Forcing his mind out of that
familiar rut, Jeff examined broader implications.

How
many years now since the computer revolution started? How many years since New
Age Prosperity for all had been predicted? At least fifty, Jeff concluded,
probably more. Fifty years of promises, and nothing to show for it but grinding
poverty.

It’s
not that computers or technology as such are at fault, he mused. Jeff glumly
reviewed a cycle that had been played out many times in human history. Plate
armor, gunpowder, the possession of iron versus bronze—all technological
miracles that had resulted in the dominance of those who first possessed them.
But only so long as they kept the advantage to themselves. And that had become
much easier. Less than twenty percent of the population could keep up with
modern technology.

 
“It’s just like the Middle Ages,” Jeff fumed
out loud. “What’s the practical difference between a financial kingdom and a
geographic one? The end result is the same—serfdom.”

He
caught strange looks from passing individuals and retreated to inward musing.
This can’t go on much longer. God help us all when it comes apart. Is that what
it’s going to take to distribute wealth and access to hope? World War Three? An
endless cycle of war until nothing is left except feudal states, disease and
mass starvation? An insistent beeping got Jeff’s attention. He glanced at the
hospital bracelet’s digital readout.

“Well,
shit,” he muttered.

Somehow
he had managed to wander not only off his ward, but off his floor as well.
Returning to his room on rubbery legs, Jeff slumped down in a chair. America,
he morosely thought, is fucked. He had not moved when Carl entered accompanied
by an austere, gray-haired man.

“My,
don’t we look cheerful.”

Jeff
scowled in Carl’s direction as he stood up. “Professor Hildebrand, I’d like to
apologize for this mess. I know it’s put you in a difficult position.”

Hildebrand
looked him over carefully before replying. “That, young man, is something of an
understatement.”

Taking
a seat, Dr. Hildebrand gazed at Jeff with unblinking concentration. As on past
occasion, Jeff felt like his every thought was apparent to the man. It was
unnerving.

“Well,
well. Where were we, Mr. Jorgenson? Oh yes, the police.”

At
the word, police, Jeff tensed and his heart skipped a beat.

“You
are a fortunate young man, Mr. Friedrick. University counsel tells me that no
charges are to be brought. It seems the commotion at the scene prompted
interest in a local apartment dweller given to late night reading.” Professor
Hildebrand paused to marvel at that fact, cherished it for a moment, and
continued. “His statement convinced the police that you acted not only in
self-defense, but to preserve your life.” Frosty green eyes gazed steadily into
Jeff’s. “Let me tell you where I stand.”

Jeff’s
heart stuttered again as he waited for his doom to be spoken. That was the
sense he got when being addressed by this stately and occasionally severe man.

“Some
members of the department have encouraged me to discharge you. The moral
outrage they voiced, however, reflected their lack of professional competence
and personal ambitions. Others, including myself, espoused a more balanced,
thoughtful approach. In short, Mr. Friedrick, no disciplinary action is planned
at the departmental level. You must understand, however, that this matter may
yet be taken from my hands. Until I hear from the chancellor’s office, this
matter will remain open. I expected better judgment from you, Mr. Friedrick.
Your decision to walk home smacks of idiocy.”

Unconsciously
holding his breath, Jeff let it out in a quiet sigh. Professor Hildebrand rose
from his chair, giving evidence that his visit was at an end. At the elevator,
Professor Hildebrand turned to Jeff with a genuine smile and held out his hand.

“I
like your work, Mr. Friedrick. Please be more careful in exposing yourself to
criticism.”

A
brief handshake and he was gone.

“What
a class act,” Jeff observed in a respectful tone of voice. “That is one
impressive man.”

“That’s
not all of it, boyo. On the way up Hildebrand mentioned that as a student he
fenced for his university. Then he actually smiled. Lord! It made me shiver to
look at him!”

“Because
he smiled? It’s a strange occurrence, I’ll grant you, but it seemed nice to
me.”

“You
should have seen it,” Carl replied with a vigorous shake of his head. “I felt
like hanging cloves of garlic around my neck. Anyway, he smiled and said he had
to, and I quote, ‘admire the efficiency with which Mr. Friedrick dispatched his
assailants.’”

“Well,
I will be twice damned.”

“I
think he’s pissed, though, so if I were you I would be just the teeniest bit
careful. He also mentioned that the final word ought to come down in about a
week.”

Jeff
started getting organized. He assumed he would be discharged as planned. It
wasn’t long before Dr. Winston confirmed that assumption.

It
seemed to Jeff that life resumed as if his brush with death had never happened.
Publicity was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by juicier and more
current gobbets of news.

For
several days his students were determined to draw him out during classroom
discussions, but Jeff refused to take the bait. While most students attended by
way of the Classroom Holographic Network, those who were present in the flesh
made things hot for a number of days. It was one of the reasons they attended.
However, it was an advanced class and finals were just around the corner.
Personal concern for academic survival soon diverted questions toward picking
his brain in search of test questions.

Gang
violence had been increasing around town, some said because of milder weather.
Those with a more sanguine view of society reserved their opinion and prepared
for worse to come. Unemployment rates nationwide averaged 30%, but the Dow
Jones was expected to break twenty thousand any day. Food banks in major cities
were empty and death by starvation, if not commonplace, accepted. In
Washington, a coalition of congressmen on the radical right introduced a bill that
would re-institute indenture law.

Roaming
a private beltway party they had crashed, reporters overheard a group of
elderly senators far to the left discussing the need for insuring continuity in
government by making some positions hereditary. When asked to confirm their
conversation, the senators expressed shock that anyone would suspect them of
saying such a thing.

Although
Jeff read the press releases, he felt detached from outside events. Since the
gang attack his interests had withdrawn inward. While he couldn’t put his
finger on it, something had changed

Life
on campus seemed hazy, and his sleep dominated by alien dreams that were
crystal clear. The overall effect, Jeff thought more than once, was to make him
feel more at home in his dreams than in reality. Two weeks after discharge,
Jeff was called into Professor Hildebrand’s office.

The
door to Jeff’s apartment was standing open. That was not only unusual and
dangerous, but also frightening. Panic-stricken by what he might find, Carl
hurried inside. Jeff was sitting on the edge of his bed staring at the floor.
Dark spots stained the carpet at his feet. As Carl watched, a large tear
gathered on Jeff’s chin and dropped away to join those on the floor.

Feeling
crushed with sympathy, Carl set about making a pot of coffee with more noise
than was necessary. When he offered a hot cup to Jeff, it was ignored.

“Come
on, buddy. Please. Professor Hildebrand called and told me what happened. He’s
devastated.”

Jeff
walked over to the window and stared out. “They didn’t give him any choice.
It’s all over, Carl. I’m finished in anthropology.”

“Because
you showed poor judgment and decided to walk home?”

There
was no expression on Jeff’s face when he glanced at Carl. “That was just the
excuse. One of the regents has a niece that needs a job. Turns out she’s an
anthropologist.”

“Those
bastards!”

“It
doesn’t matter. I think I’ve known all along that my days in the department
were numbered. Who do I know? It was sheer luck that I got the job in the first
place. Tell me, what do you think my chances are of being lucky again?” Jeff
looked down at the floor. “Why is this happening to me, Carl? What have I
done?”

With
passing weeks Jeff began to accept what had happened. He had been fired. The
days never seemed to end and his mood continued to spiral downward. Before
going crazy from worry, Jeff decided to get away from the city. He had not been
able to find a job in anthropology, maybe never would, but he could hike into
the mountains.

After
talking it over with Carl, Jeff decided to go for it and unearthed his
collection of topographical maps. Backpacking equipment was scattered around
the apartment when Carl walked in carrying a duffel bag.

“Glad
to see you decided to get off your butt, Jeff. About time.” Setting the bag
down, he leafed through a stack of maps.

“No
shit. Have to do something. Can’t even leave the apartment without feeling like
a trespasser. About the only place I feel comfortable is down at the marina.
Sure wish it wasn’t too early for the racing season.”

“From
what you’ve said about it, sailing might be just the thing you need. Maybe you
can get a berth for one of the long distance races when you get back from your
hike, say from here to Hawaii. A total change of environment might do the
trick. You’ve been crewing for what? Three or four years now?”

“About
four years, and it’s a good idea. What you said about needing a change of
environment really rings a bell. A week or two in the mountains will be no more
than a good start. There doesn’t seem to be any point to life anymore except to
survive from one day to the next. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so lonely.”

“They
really hung you out to dry, buddy. Wish there was something I could do to
help.” Carl unfolded a map. “So, where do you think?”

“Ordinarily
one mountain would be as good as another,” Jeff replied, looking up from the
small camp stove he was inspecting, “but this early in the season I think I’ll
stay low in case a storm moves in. I’m going to head for Black Pine Lake and
see if I can work my way over Sawtooth Ridge into the wilderness area.”

Carl
let out a surprised whistle. “That’s low? Little ambitious, isn’t it? The
Sawtooth area is rugged, even in high summer. Shoot, it’s a three-day hike from
the lake just to get there. Something goes wrong and you’re dog meat. How about
something closer and lower down?”

Bent
over the stove fiddling with the pressure pump, Jeff gave no evidence he had
heard a word. Carl watched him for a period and was reminded of someone in a
trance.

“Where
you at, man? Space city, it seems to me. You going to be okay for this hike?”

“I’ll
be fine once I get into the woods.” Jeff put the stove aside. “I checked with
forest service HQ earlier today. They reported an unusually small snowpack.” He
kneeled by his sleeping bag and unrolled it. “Funny how the Sawtooths popped
into my mind while I was looking at the maps. I really want to go there.”

The
tone of Jeff’s voice and memories of their earlier conversation in the diner
sent a prickling sensation along Carl’s spine. This was not the Jeff he was
familiar with.

“Where
do you really want to go?”

Jeff
looked up with a confused expression on his face. “To the Sawtooths. Why? What
did I say?”

“It
isn’t what you said, it’s how you said it. Jeff, I am truly worried about you wandering
around in the woods.”

“I’m
not going to do anything stupid. The Sawtooths just feel right.”

“Like
walking home?”

It
was a shrewd comment, and meant to be. Jeff winced and studied the deep concern
on Carl’s face.