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gang attack his interests had withdrawn inward.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
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
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