Dawn smiled again. This time there was another look in her eye. It was a far-off look that he couldn’t rightly quantify. Perhaps it was sadness, or maybe she felt sorry for him. He really wasn’t good at trying to figure out the motivations of the English, but she paused for just a moment, as if a thought, previously unconsidered, passed through her mind. Her smile tightened and she blinked before answering, and all of her mannerisms taken together gave him a weird feeling in his stomach.
“Make a right directly at the end of this counter. Down at the end of the concourse, turn to your left. Then to the end of that walkway and you’ll be at Gate 13. Okay?”
“Okay. And thanks.”
“No problem. Have a safe and prosperous trip, Jed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Jed looked into her eyes one more time before he turned to leave, and again he saw a hint of sadness there, as if she were saying, “After you are all gone, what will become of us?” But maybe he was projecting his own thoughts into a woman who might not even really care.
* * *
There was a vending machine at Gate 13 that purportedly served food, but Jed had learned in his few journeys among the English that the term “food” could only be loosely applied to whatever came out of a machine. He was hungry though, and the brochure plainly instructed pilgrims to eat before boarding the airbus to the SGT station out in West Texas. There would be no food for nine years once he boarded this airbus! He thought about that for a moment and shook his head. To think, this machine food was going to be his last meal. Ech!
He selected a sandwich and a bowl of chicken soup, and noted that the two items would cost him a total of two thousand unis. Two thousand unis! For soup and a sandwich! It was difficult for him to do the conversion in his head, but he was pretty sure he could buy a new pair of work shoes for the equivalent of two thousand unis. He couldn’t find anything that was remarkably cheaper, so he tapped his wrist against the charging station on the right side of the glass, and the machine whirred into motion. As he leaned over to pull his meal tray from the slot in the machine, he noticed the computer screen above the slot.
Your charge: 2,000 Unilets
Your balance: 598,000 Unilets
598,000 Unilets! Wait a minute. That’s way too much. Something is wrong.
He tried to recall how the money system worked. After converting his AZ money into unis when he’d first picked up his transport orders, he’d had two hundred thousand unis for his trip. That was all. Two hundred thousand unis. No more. That was how much he’d brought with him. Now, for some reason, his uni account had just tripled! Maybe something is wrong with the machine. He looked up at the screen again, then glanced all around. His face flushed with embarrassment. He felt guilty for some reason, like maybe he’d stolen the extra unis. Balancing the tray with his right hand, he looked at his wristband to see if there was any readout that might tell him how many unis he really had. There was none… at least there wasn’t one that he knew about. He looked around again, and now he felt panic rise up in him; his heart began to beat faster. He felt sweat building up on his brow, and just as he turned around again, he saw Dawn walking quickly toward him.
She wasn’t smiling.
Chapter 3
En Route
Most Plain People are used to feeling guilty when they’ve done nothing wrong. It’s part of the physiology and culture of being different. Usually this feeling only creeps up on them when they’re out among the English. There was something in the way the English looked at them that conveyed a sense of accusation. Even when tourists were smiling and pointing and saying “How cute!” and asking for pictures, or snapping them anyway while pretending not to, there was always a subtle covetousness in the way the English looked at the Plain People. Maybe it was something around the eyes, but the gist of it was that somehow life had been unfair, or maybe the Plain People had done some great wrong to have to live an unadorned life of simplicity. The whole thing was an insoluble enigma. Even though the English man or woman may not want to be plain—wouldn’t change places even if they could—there was still the communication of some want, or need… or blame that made the Plain People cringe inside. An elder had once called it “a criminal charge that comes through without words.”
Seated in the airbus, Jed was attuned to this feeling of guilt. The situation with Dawn and the extra unis was troubling enough, but now he was on an English airbus by himself for the first time, and the looks and stares from many of the English brought back that oppressive feeling of guilt that Jed could not explain, even to himself. The passengers who were on Quadrille or lost on the Internet in their minds didn’t pay him much heed. Others, not on the drug and not busy online, stared openly or secretly, usually one or the other, and always there was the wordless accusation… or maybe it was just a question… why?
One man with slicked-back hair—a young man Jed did not know and had never met—openly showed his disdain for Jed. Slicked-back had a sneer on his face, and whenever he caught Jed’s eye (which Jed studiously tried to avoid) he’d emphasize the sneer and demonstrably look Jed up and down with disgust. There was hatred in Slicked-back’s eyes, and this was not the first time that Jed had seen this attitude among the English. It made matters worse that seats on an airbus were arranged like those on an old subway, with passengers facing one another across an aisle. Slicked-back was across the aisle from him, but one seat over and to his right. Jed decided not to look at him, and he thought back to the incident with Dawn.
Back at the vending machine, when he’d been trying to grasp what was happening with the extra unis, the customs clerk named Dawn had approached him in a way that caused him to experience very real fear. Had he done something wrong?
When she was about five yards away, she’d reached into a pocket of her navy blue vest. Her eyes met his, and then she was extending her hand toward him. In her hand he could see his used electronic unilets card. He’d left it back at the desk. He didn’t think he needed it anymore. They were disposable, after all.
“You left this at the desk,” Dawn said, and now there was a forced smile on her face.
“I’m sorry… um… listen, I just…” Jed indicated with his head toward the vending machine, but Dawn cut him off before he could say anything about the extra unilets.
“Yes,” she said, interrupting him again and nodding her head, “that’s all right. Everything is as it should be now. Just take your card and make sure you don’t miss your bus.”
“But, I…”
“Yes, sir.” She raised her hands this time. “Everything is as it should be.” Her eyes grew wider, as if she were trying to tell him to shut up and just accept things the way they are. “Just take your card and go get on your bus, sir.”
“So…”
“Listen, sir. Everything is fine now. You needn’t worry about a thing. I’ve got to get back to the desk, but… everything is as it should be, so have a great trip.” She forced the card into his hand, and when she did, he noticed that she was handing him more than just the card. There was also a small, folded piece of paper, and something else. Something heavy. It felt like a large coin. He didn’t look at it.
Not knowing why he did it, but intimidated by the discussion and not sure what else to do, Jed put the card, paper, and coin into his pocket quickly and without argument. He looked up at Dawn and tried to smile, and he noticed that she smiled back. And then she turned and was striding back toward the check-in desk…