The Rift by William Brinkman

Author:William Brinkman [William Brinkman]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Anti-Psychic Kitty Press
Published: 2022-09-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

“Sociologists and feminist scholars have criticized these charts, but have yet to provide conclusive proof they are inaccurate. Science tells us to follow the data. Disliking the results does not invalidate the findings that are the foundation of these charts.”

—Matthew Bennett, The Mathematics of Morality

“More weredeer attacks last night. Two cars mauled near Prairie Trails Park. Five hospitalized after an attack in Winston Woods.”

—@BolingbrookBabb

Tom wiped the sweat off his forehead after setting down a crate on the practice green. It was bad enough moving crates into the Nest, but moving heavy ones outdoors was exhausting.

“You can’t be tired,” said Brian.

“I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

Brian rolled out a small generator from a crate. “You’re not in college any more. Out here, you have to work hard, and your actions have consequences. Nap time is over. Time to think about the path you want to take. Go get the cable spool.”

Tom nodded and wiped his forehead again. He walked over to the large wooden spool with a black cable wrapped in it, then rolled it towards Brian, who unhooked a connector and fixed it to the generator.

“You think this is hard?” asked Brian. “It only gets harder. So, think about the future now. It’ll be here sooner than you think.”

“Okay,” said Tom. I didn’t ask for life advice.

“No more partying. Can’t have you messing up. Right?”

“Right,” Tom said, trying to stay out of trouble.

Tom started unspooling the cable as he walked towards the line hooked up to the clubhouse.

“Once you’ve connected the cable,” directed Brian, “go back to your station and don’t talk to the protesters. Robert told me to remind you.”

Tom stopped himself from shaking his head and turned to Brian. “I won’t!” Tom didn’t know what they were building, but assumed it had to do with the congress—lighting for an outdoor ceremony, he guessed. He connected the cables, then headed for the clubhouse. In the distance, he could make out the sound of a protester speaking through a megaphone, followed by the occasional cheers of the crowd.

The shame of last night still lingered. He still couldn’t believe Jamie’s music was Earth’s biggest export, and he also felt the pressure to write an unbiased report.

Watching the Twitter campaign against Barqah had rattled his confidence. Even after sleeping on it, he had doubts about Trevor and Marty’s tactics. Should they have done more to rein in their followers?

But shouldn’t Jamie, too? Undercutting the Committee was also excessive and damaging. Just because Trevor and Isaac weren’t perfect didn’t mean Jamie and Humanist Heart were. Maybe both sides were wrong in different ways. Tom also wondered why Isaac told Meggy about what happened in the elevator. Why burden a child like that?

The protesters’ cheering interrupted Tom’s thoughts and he walked to the front of the clubhouse. Brian and Robert had told him he couldn’t talk to them, but had said nothing about listening.

As Tom moved closer to the crowd, he began to hear what the speaker was saying. “We have cowered too long,” the man said through the megaphone.

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