2028 by Ken Saunders

Author:Ken Saunders
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Allen & Unwin
Published: 2018-07-17T00:00:00+00:00

The four stumbled into the flat, laughing. Old Ned Ludd, the one with the appalling cough, clapped both young Kate and Candidate Ned on the back and gave Amy a hug. ‘We’re going to win!’ he declared.

Amy couldn’t recall having had so much fun in recent years: meeting people, laughing, talking, debating—mostly laughing. She’d spent the Saturday as part of this Luddite gang of four campaigning throughout Glebe and Ultimo. The reception the Luddites were getting was amazing. And Kate, only seventeen years old, had impressed. The national wage concept of hers and how it would work was a difficult idea to get across, and yet she’d seen people question the young woman on it all day and come away if not converted, at least considering it. ‘It sounds a bit utopian,’ one man had told her. ‘You got a problem with living in utopia?’ Kate had retorted.

Candidate Ned put the pizzas on his coffee table and disappeared into the kitchen for drinks and plates. He had the opposite campaigning style to Kate. He spent the time discussing with voters what was important to them. He was a perceptive listener and he came across well. He was—Amy paused on the words even in her thoughts—very attractive.

Kate took off her hat and, with a flourish, pulled off the celery stick affixed to it and took a chomp out of it. It didn’t give the satisfying crunching sound she had hoped for as it had been gradually wilting in the sun all day. The celery stick had become the de facto Luddite campaign symbol. Nobody had organised it, but people everywhere were wearing them. ‘Michael at the fruit-and-veg told me yesterday that he sold out of celery by eleven am. Today, he was selling them as individual sticks,’ Kate informed them. ‘How brilliant is it to have a party’s symbol distributed nationwide by fruit-and-veg shops!’

The momentum was incredible. Amy had seen people sporting celery sticks on their hats, their bags, their lapels. Younger voters seemed to like two half celery sticks worn as epaulettes.

‘Who wants a beer?’ Candidate Ned called from the other room.

A chorus of ‘I do’ answered him. Ned stuck his head out of the kitchen. ‘Kate, you’re seventeen. I’m not giving you a beer.’

‘For Christ’s sake, Ned! My mothers let me have beer occasionally.’

‘Then go home and have a beer with your mothers,’ Ned replied bluntly.

‘I’ve worked all day on your campaign,’ Kate pleaded.

‘Kate, as an MP, I can’t be giving beers to underage kids.’

Kate stood up. Amy assumed she was offended at being called a kid, but she raised her hand in a high five gesture. Candidate Ned slapped it reflexively. ‘What was that for?’ he asked.

Kate was grinning broadly. ‘You said “as an MP”. We’re going to win, aren’t we!’

Candidate Ned seemed to stiffen. ‘There’s still a long way to go in the campaign,’ he replied cautiously, but Amy could tell that cautiousness was tinged with excitement.

Old Ned gave a few hacking coughs. ‘All the stars have aligned,’ he said.

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