“No!” Ray and Cassandra said simultaneously.
Sean just smiled. He was Ray’s first cousin on his father’s side; the brother of Ray’s father, James. He was born outside Dublin and his family moved to Old Chicago, following James, when Sean was just eight years old. He lost most of his accent in the ensuing years, but not completely. Now it was an eclectic combination of Irish brogue and upper mid-western twang. “You two are the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. You’re wanted for murder and they’re going to execute your friend, accomplice, or dupe. What’s it all for?”
Ray goggled and his face went red. “What’s it all for? You just look at the immediate problem and think we should bale out. The whole country’s our problem. We’ve lost our democracy, our vitality, and our sense of justice; not to mention everything else that’s wrong.”
“And don’t call Gene our dupe,” Cassandra said, looking angry.
“All right, all right,” Sean O’Reilly said. “Don’t gang up on me. I share your enthusiasm for change; well, maybe not as much as you two do, but I understand. All I’m saying is that you’re fugitives now. You show your face and they’ll execute you. Hell, they may not even wait for a trial. What can you realistically do? At least you’ll be safe in the New World; and everything you’re fighting against here won’t exist over there.”
“We can’t abandon the people we leave behind,” Cassandra said.
“Ray,” Sean said, “you saw that professor you want to be the intellectual leader of a revolution; a sort of Trotsky. What did he say? Did he encourage you?”
Ray was reticent.
“It’s as I thought,” Sean said.
“No, it isn’t. It’s a process. He’s scared. That’s all. If he speaks or writes about the New World he loses the University’s protection. If that happens, Martinez will be on him like a wolf to his prey. It will take time to gain his cooperation.”
“The same for Eugene Sulke?” Sean said.
“Yes! Well, circumstances have changed somewhat, but it’s all about the process.”
The three remained silent for a time, and Cassandra grabbed another bottle of beer. “Have you been to the New World?” she asked Sean.
Sean swallowed a swig of his beer. His eyes enlivened and he smiled. “As a matter of fact, I have. Ah, tis a grand place, she is. That sense of vigor you talked about—” looking at Ray—”it’s there in New America. They’re building a future over there while you two try to rebuild a past over here. There’s a sense of democracy that we’ve never had here. There’s no wealthy class with the power to influence who and how their nation is governed. They even have a fourth branch of government—the People’s Branch.”
Sean had the look of someone seeing a glorious painting for the first time. “They choose one hundred people at random from a pool of anyone willing to serve, and they get to veto anything that comes out of government—any bill, court decision, police action; shit, anything. Now, that’s democracy. And because these one hundred are chosen at random, no one can use any influence they might have to get their own way. There’s no office to run for; there’s no cabal to exert a special power. It is rule of the people, by the people, and for the people—for real this time.”
“Now you know why we have to fight,” Ray said. “This is what people want.”
“I know, but does anyone else?”
Ray and Cassandra looked bewildered, but did not answer.
“Look, you guys, Old America is dead. No one is revolting. When you figure that out, the New World is waiting for you.”
“So how come you didn’t stay?” Cassandra asked.
“Ah, tis a glorious place, but not for an old criminal like me. There’s too much order there. I thrive on chaos; the thrill of the challenge. Besides, these people need me here as well. I rob from the rich and give to the poor—a regular robbing hood,” Sean said, grinning.
Cassandra was slightly amused. “I think I’ll check for messages,” she said.
“Another stout, mate?” Sean said.
“Sure.”
“Ray!” yelled Cassandra from the parlor. Ray looked concerned as he walked into the parlor.
Cassandra just looked up at Ray with a sheepish smile. “Eugene is free.”
“The lawyer?”
“According to Judy it was your brother who got him out. He’s bragging that he talked Casimir into releasing him. Dennis is taking him home as we speak. This must be what Judy meant about Jay being up to something. He probably planned this.”
Ray looked worried, and he didn’t respond immediately. He sat back down at the kitchen table and took a swig of his beer while Sean and Cassandra just stared at him like a Greek visitor waiting to hear from the Pythia.
“Well, I suppose that was what Judy meant. On the one hand, Gene is going to see us as the ones who put him in prison, and Dennis, the long lost friend, is the one who got him out.”
“I guess there goes a major piece of the revolutionary puzzle,” a smiling Sean O’Reilly said. Cassandra looked annoyed while Ray looked perplexed.
“I know my brother is up to something. We know Jay Casimir was responsible for Catherine’s death, and I believe Eugene either believes it or is unsure of him. He also knows that Dennis works for Casimir. I don’t believe that just springing Eugene out of the joint is enough to cement a relationship with Dennis.”
Sean looked on curiously. “So you think you may still be able to win Eugene over?” he asked.
“Yeah, I do,” Ray said. “Still, we’re in a bad way right now. We’ll need to lay low for a while and see what develops. We’re going to have to assume Dennis removed our tracker from Gene’s car. We need to put ours back on.”
“And take his off,” Cassandra said.
“No! Then Dennis will know we’re close by. Furthermore, he’ll just put his back on and take ours off again. He’ll also put some men on Gene’s car. We have to put ours on, but let Dennis think we’re on the run.”
“Is this for real? Am I really free?” Gene asked.
“Free as a bird,” Dennis said.
Eugene told Dennis the things Fernando talked about and then noticed something peculiar. “This isn’t the way home.”
“We’re going to your parents’ house.”
“My… why?”
“They know you were in Joliet. They’re worried. They want to see you.”
Eugene looked frustrated. “How did they know that, Den? I didn’t want them to know about prison. My mom would shit. How did they find out?”
“Calm down, Genie. When you didn’t show up for work, and your boss couldn’t reach you, the company lawyer called them up.”
“I don’t understand, Den. How did the lawyer know? They wouldn’t let me call him or work.”
“I know. They can be dicks sometimes. Well, somehow the lawyer found out and he tried to call you. When that didn’t work, he had the number of your next of kin. That’s how your mother found out.”
“I still don’t understand. How did the lawyer know I was in jail?”
“He’s a lawyer, Gene. He probably figured it out.”
“What about confidentiality and all? Why would he discuss this with my parents?”
“How do I know, Genie? You’re free, my man. That’s what’s important.”
Gene was silent while Dennis just smiled. “Anyway, that’s why we’re going to Countryside. They want to know you’re all right.”
Eugene was silent for a while, and then turned to his friend. “My cellmate, Fernando, said they don’t stick pretrial people in Joliet unless they’re pretty sure they’re guilty. It saves them in transportation costs.”
“The important thing is you’re out now.”