Double Team
Chapter 234
“But I suppose the most revolutionary act one can engage in is… to tell the truth.”
—Howard Zinn, Marx in Soho: A Play on History
MONDAY MORNING, I received an invitation to dine with Senator Arnold Hornby of Missouri at his house on Wednesday evening. In my few encounters with Hornby, I found him to generally be a supporter of the reform movement, though he never joined the party. It was partially that which led to his being elected as a compromise candidate to the position of Senate Leader. I hadn’t seen or spoken to him since our campaign tour in October, so I was surprised to have an invitation. Even more so by the addition of the words, “As this is to be a working dinner, it would not be appropriate to be accompanied by wives or other advisers. It is strictly one-on-one.”
My wives, of course, were offended and wanted to insist on at least one accompanying me. We finally compromised at having Amanda accompany me. So far, no one knew of her ability to record everything that happened around her and to act independently if a threat arose. She was just a cute little pile of shit. With that in mind, I accepted the invitation.
Wednesday evening, Emily dressed in a black chauffeur’s uniform and conducted me to Donna’s Volvo, the most prestigious car in our family. I was surprised to find Leah Makepeace, one of our security people, standing by the car. I was told in no uncertain terms that I was to sit in the back seat and not to move until one of them opened my door for me. Then Emily and Leah got in front and we headed to the late dinner meeting at the senator’s house. There was a gate at the front and we were checked in and verified. Emily pulled up in front of the door and came around the car to open my door as Leah stood by, silently watching. The door opened and Senator Hornby welcomed me into his home. No servants. I saw Em and Leah get back in the car and wondered where they were waiting.
“Jacob, it is good to see you again. Are you recovering well from the incident in Texas?” the senator asked.
“I’m doing well, thank you, Senator. I hope to be back on tour in a month or two. Congratulations on your election as Senate Leader.”
“Thank you. What is that you are carrying?”
“I’ve been testing a prototype search engine that attaches to my tablet. I wasn’t sure where our conversation would be going this evening and hate to answer questions from a position of ignorance if I can get information quickly.”
“Interesting. An unusual design.”
“Its maker has an unusual sense of humor,” I said. “I’m delighted, of course, to spend an evening in conversation with you, but may I ask what the purpose of this meeting is?” The senator heaved a deep sigh.
“I won’t be at dinner with you, Jacob,” he said. I went on immediate alert. Surely there was no lurking threat of kidnapping or murder while visiting a senator’s home! What was up? “I’m sorry for the subterfuge. The person who wishes to have dinner with you… Well, at best, it would be embarrassing for word to get out that he called you for a meeting. The fact of your meeting taking place could be harmful to both of your reputations or fuel undue rumors and speculation. I think you know that I try to be fair and unbiased in my work and have conducted Senate business on an even field. I hope you will extend the same courtesy.” He opened the door to the dining room where a meal was already spread on the table. A man I recognized stood behind the table.
Senator Addison Jeffries, former Senate Leader.
“Senator Jeffries, this is Jacob Hopkins. Mr. Hopkins, I don’t believe you’ve had the opportunity to meet Senator Addison Jeffries of Virginia before. Gentlemen, there is food aplenty but I’ve dismissed the cook. I will be in my study across the hall should you need anything. Please try not to get blood on the carpet.” With that, Senator Hornby left and closed the dining room door behind him.
Jeffries and I stared at each other. I decided to let him make the first move.
“Well, come to the table and sit down, Mr. Hopkins,” he said finally. “Arnold has provided a lovely meal.”
“Thank you, Senator,” I said as I approached the table. Rather than have the seating with one or both of us at ends of the table, we were seated across the table from each other. I considered that unusual since people in power generally want to assert that power in the seating arrangement, sometimes even struggling to see who would have the seat of honor. I set Amanda on the floor as I sat down and looked at the plate of food in front of me. I wondered what kind of a cold dinner we would have and was pleasantly surprised to find a large salad with strips of steak on it. A bowl of soup was on a warming tray next to it.
“I suppose it is up to me to start things,” he said. “I initiated the meeting and I’m sure you are wondering why. It seems we have been adversaries without even bothering to get to know each other. We may not be able to do anything about being adversaries, but at least we will know each other for who we are.”
“Know your enemies,” I said.
“I’m told that in ancient times it was not unusual for the generals of opposing armies to have a meal together before starting the battle the next day.”
“Are we going to battle tomorrow?” I asked.
“I hope not. Oh, we will undoubtedly engage again, but not tomorrow. This soup is delicious.”
“Indeed. I wonder if he gives out the recipe.”
“Cooks often share in DC. You should have your cook contact his.”
“I don’t live such an exalted lifestyle. My wives and I share in all the cooking and cleaning tasks for our household.”
“Of course. You know when I first became aware of you, I paid no attention at all because you were just a teenage guitarist. Then di Marco started quoting you and your streams were gaining some popularity around an unpopular topic. Someplace along the line, about the time your testimony to the commission included you telling the President of the United States she needed to do something right fucking now, I forgot you were a teen guitarist. You simply became the enemy.”
“I did not set out to become your enemy,” I said.
“No. It never happens that way. You were on a path—a mission. Those in your way were unnamed and anonymous. Even when you began campaigning, you would only say ‘Vote for someone else.’ That made it hard to pin you down,” he said.
“Why?” I asked at last. “Why were you so opposed to National Service reform that was so obviously needed?”
“My name was on the law that went into effect twelve years ago. You want to repeal what I worked so hard to create. But that isn’t the only reason, of course. None of us realized when the service started how profitable it could be for so many people. First of all, we needed to manage the National Service in such a way as to make it profitable. The service started out adding 128 billion dollars to the national debt with no revenue associated with it.” That was a shock. But, of course, even at sub-minimum wages, putting eight million people on the government payroll was going to add billions to the budget.
“Surely everyone knew that was coming as soon as 28 was ratified,” I said. “Weren’t we prepared?”
“Half of the effort of planners during the ten years between ratification and the day the law actually took effect was spent pulling together contracts where we could use four million new laborers a year. We couldn’t just send them out to pick up roadside trash. But as soon as we suggested various infrastructure improvements, states, local governments, all reduced their budgets for infrastructure repair. The dip in activity put thousands of construction workers out of work. By the time the service was actually begun, roads, bridges, railroads, and even public utilities had deteriorated to the lowest level in a century. We held the solution in the National Service, but the states were not happy that they were going to pay for that solution at close to the same rate they would have paid to simply keep crews working in the first place. And the difference between what our crews cost and what we could sell them for was what funded the service.”
“Distributing slaves for a profit.”
“No one thought of it as slave labor. Not until the migrant worker debacle. And at that point, very powerful people had discovered the profit areas of both using the service and of selling to the service. They worked very hard to make sure the cash cow they’d discovered stayed in place.”
“Campaign contributions from RSI and its subsidiaries,” I sighed. Jeffries looked at me sharply.
“You entered a game that was far advanced before you were on the scene,” he said. “You’ve suffered the consequences. Most recently, the man who was supposed to keep control of the situation first attempted to kidnap you, lost face and his job, and then tried to murder you. I hope you realize those actions were not sanctioned by his former employers or by anyone in a position of power.”
“RSI has continued to bend over backward to offer reparations for the damage done,” I said. “They seem very apologetic.”
“Mr. Hopkins, tonight I’ve come to you, not only to get to know my enemy, but to bring a deeply considered request. This kind of thing would normally be handled by subtle suggestions, donations, and meetings between people at a low level on our staffs. I was convinced that this process would not work with you.”
“I don’t have a staff. I’m just a guitarist for the National Service,” I chuckled.
“And a teen. Inexperienced in the way things work in the real world. Innocent, if you will. And frankly, like the majority of our constituents. Blissfully unaware of the reality of politics,” he said. I stiffened a little, but when I considered it, he was right. I wasn’t even supposed to be in this political conversation.
“What is it you want that a teen member of the service can possibly give you?”
“I… We would like you to take the National Reform Bill out of consideration before it comes to a vote this week. Believe me, if I thought there was any other way, I would never submit this to you, but we’ve tried everything, procedural and in debate. We need you to take the bill out of consideration.”
I was aghast. I’d campaigned for National Service Reform for two years. I’d created an entire Reformist Party to take control of congress and push the bill through. It had been four months since the bill was proposed and was finally slated for a vote on Friday this week, just two days away. And he wanted me to take it out of consideration? I shook my head.
“You seem to think I’m some kind of magician. I’m not a member of congress or the senate. How could I possibly take a bill out of consideration? And why on earth would I ever want to do so?” I asked.
“They… listen to you. You put them in office. You created their political party. For all they know, you wrote the bill that’s coming up for a vote. All you have to do is call one of your hounds and have him move to table the bill. They’ll do it because you said to.”
“I think you’re giving me way too much credit. I don’t have that kind of power. Or any kind for that matter,” I said.
“You have the most dangerous kind,” he sighed. “The kind of power that is wielded carelessly, negligently, believing you can’t affect anything and destroying everything in the process.”
“What am I destroying? You cut a deal with the agricultural industry. You sent slave labor into the fields. You contracted a company to provide non-existent services and paid them out of funds intended to help the workers. Not only that, but through your foundation, you paid General Director Gerhardt a quarter million dollars to take me out of circulation and funded the training and deployment of the SSR team. Since the inception of the National Service, you’ve received over fifty million in donations and have funneled over half of it into your own pocket,” I said. I was getting angry. Just more Washington bullshit. Business as usual.
“You have no proof of any of that,” Jeffries said. “And if you did, think of what a mess you would create in exposing it. You would destroy the people’s confidence in their elected officials. They’d question the very fabric of democracy. This system has been built from the inside over two hundred years. It’s a system of sorting out the good deals from the bad, negotiating the best rates, trading some inconvenience in one area for a massive win in another. You think the President is negotiating for better relations with China? We are the ones working the magic that makes it possible. We have the businesses and corporations aligned that can give China what it needs to succeed in a world market while gaining favorable concessions for goods and services if we just back off pounding the drums about slavery. China doesn’t understand what we’re upset about. Slavery is a way of life for them. Every individual in the country is one step away from being slave labor. At least we put a limit on the term and in two years, our slaves emerge with the offer of education, jobs, benefits. Your bill will have us scrambling to fill jobs that no one will take. Crops will rot in the fields or never be planted at all. You’ll plunge the country into economic chaos. Sure, we need to improve some conditions. But we don’t need to starve our country.”
“I don’t think you understand the level at which you have betrayed the American people, Senator. I’d like to say that when they realize what you and members of congress have done over the past two hundred years, it will spark another revolution and your heads will be displayed in the streets on pikes. That is what is deserved. The people… We the people of the United States of America… believe in our constitution and when we find out what you have done to distort and circumvent it, we will reclaim the government from you.” I stared him in the eye and defied him to contradict me. I was so pissed off I could barely restrain myself from screaming. I took a deep breath.
“But it won’t happen because of the National Service Reform Bill. It won’t even happen because you personally are indicted and convicted of a dozen crimes that I might not have proof of but the special prosecutor does. If anything, that will be your ultimate sacrifice as scapegoat for the evil. You are out of the way; therefore, the problem is solved. No. Just as you have taken two hundred years to build this corrupt system, it may take us two hundred years to dismantle it and return to the ideals of our constitution. But we’ll do it. Anything that can be destroyed by the truth, should be.”
Come see the angry young man.
Come see!
Come see the angry young man.
I didn’t stay for dessert.
8 May 2023
Cindy and I stood with Leslie and Celia from Pod Cheer-up. On the other side of the President stood Governor Adamson, Will Forsythe, Speaker of the House Damien Travis, and Senate Leader Arnold Hornby. Arranged behind us were a dozen people who had worked on and sponsored the National Service Reform Bill.
The President signed it into law.
The expressions on faces captured in the official press photo were widely varied. The President, Adamson, and Forsythe were all jubilant. Hornby seemed to have a scowl on his face directed at me. Next to me, Celia and I had an arm around Leslie who openly wept. Cindy buried her face against my arm. We were all caught up in our own thoughts.
We each collected our souvenir pen, used to sign the bill into law, shook hands with the President and other dignitaries, and left the Oval Office. Cindy and I escorted Leslie and Celia out of the White House and to our waiting car to be taken to our house. There was a reception at the White House, but we begged off in favor of the much better reception waiting for us at home. My wives and Celia’s podmates were all gathered together.
I looked at Leslie in the back of the limo as we rode to the house. She looks healthier now, but still looks much older. Her eyes are sunken. Her hands are twisted. But Celia takes care of her and holds her like the high school cheerleader she once was. Having the law named after her—The Leslie LaRue National Service Reform Act—was little compensation for what the service did to her.
I need to go down and join the others. I just wanted to make a journal entry with the pen that signed the bill.
The shape of Pod Cheer-up had changed. Another face had been added. I hadn’t seen Bernie or Rosie in more than two years and other than looking more mature, they were both as bright and lively as they’d been in high school.
“Jacob, I’d like you to meet Heather. We were buddies in the great North of Alaska and it kind of stuck. She’s part of our pod now.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Heather,” I said. “Welcome to Pod Octave.”
“I understand you had some experience with meeting someone in intense training and bringing her home,” Heather said. “I hope you don’t think I’m an interloper in Cheer-up.”
“Not at all. Dana hasn’t made a commitment to our pod, but she swings by whenever she can. It’s pretty difficult with the team on 24/7 standby. They are in Ohio dealing with the tornadoes that hit this weekend.”
“That’s a lot like it was with us. For the first three months there were only eight others we saw while on fire watch. You get to know a lot about a person in that time.”
“Are you all going to get official and have a plural domestic partnership?” I asked.
“We’re waiting until Celia and Adrienne have finished their first term. They’ll be out next month. We’ve been operating under the old rule book that said no marriages during National Service. Slick how you avoided that. After we’ve signed our partnership, we’re thinking about re-upping,” Bernie said.
“Back to Alaska?” I asked.
“No. But Rosie has been getting a lot of pressure to put together a team to work on special projects like she did up in Flint. She said it was hard work, but it was really satisfying to be part of the team that cleaned up the water there.” I turned to Leslie who had joined us with Celia and Adrienne as we talked. Heather moved straight to her side and kissed her cheek sweetly.
“You’d re-up, Leslie?” I asked.
“No. I’ve done my service. But my family will need someone to make a nice home for them. I think that’s what I need now that I’m all disfigured and ugly.”
“You aren’t ugly!” a new voice said. I turned to see Abigail Johnson wedging into our little circle. Our next door neighbor was accompanied by Rosie. “You’re beyond beautiful,” Abigail said. “I know you must look in a mirror and see the absence of the girl you were in high school. I look at you and see the kind of woman I want to become.”
“You’re so sweet, Abbie,” Rosie said. “We need to get to know you better.”
“I… um… have a big house next door and there are lots of empty bedrooms. You could come over and spend the night there if you’d like. I mean, I know how crowded this place becomes.”
“Would you object to our staying with Abbie tonight instead of with your pod, Jacob? It does seem silly to crowd six extra people into your house when there are extra bedrooms next door,” Rosie said.
“No, that sounds like a good idea and a generous offer, Abigail,” I said. “If we’d been thinking straight this weekend, we might have suggested it. It was just such a rush to get everyone here for the signing, I didn’t think of it.”
“I talked to Nanette about the possibility,” Abigail said. “It was just hard to extend the offer until we’d all met.”
“We’ll do the move right after dinner,” I suggested. “Let’s eat first.”
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