2032. Andrew Jennings

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2032 - Andrew Jennings

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were out of sight in the side chamber, where Jack was.

      “I question your notion of value. When you buy or sell an asset it is to a community. We all together decide that value. The previous values are never going to return.”

      The piercing sound of a single shot rang out from the chamber where the protestors had been taken. The whole room turned around in that direction. There was a look of panic on every face he could see, that quickly turned to very nasty anger. Noah’s heart rate was so fast that he was struggling to speak. He scanned the room, and took in the full intensity of the anger. Security was all over him, he was totally surrounded.

      “If you have any questions, I will be here.”

      Quickly he moved to the back of the stage and through the back doors to where the protestors were being held. He found that he was shaking.

      Jack was standing, smiling as Noah entered.

      “What the fuck?” he asked

      “Bullet catcher.” Jack said, holding a box up, about the size of a loaf of bread. “Fire a single shot into it and just stops in the box.”

      “Next time, can you tell me first?”

      “Spoils the impact.”

      Ruby meets the backers

      It was a temporary office, but they had been there for months now. Robinson Street in Dandenong, just up from the station. Upstairs in an office block. Even now they only used about half the floor. The rebellion was in its sixth month. Ruby was early thirties, with dark hair and thick black rimmed glasses. She glanced out the window. So quiet here. For the moment it was just Ruby and Noah in the office. Noah had the athletic good looks of a young executive. He like to dress well, neatly, as if it projected order over the chaos that filled the office. Noah looked he surfed a lot, but his looks came from long hours at the gym. Maybe it was the blonde hair.

      A new government had been elected in a landslide only months ago. The populist new conservatives. Older voters were in the majority, and these guys dished it up big time. Pension rises, benefits, you name it. Now that it was clear how to win elections, they had become shameless. The tyranny of demographics. Most voters were older, didn’t work. A policy to increase benefits was irresistible. The minority of workers who funded this lifestyle didn’t even figure in the political exchange. It was somehow assumed that they would quietly not rock the boat. To work in a city, but not to own even a part of it - to have this thrust in your face every day. Your rental somewhere in the outer suburbs, your journey into the city through the entrenched. That statement, that exclusion.

      So the movement had been born. Almost in exile. Dandenong was a business district, but it was always second best. Or third best. Stratified. Know your place. Well, did you? Those that funded the rebellion had certainly had enough. It exploded. In weeks they had enough funding for years of operation. Which left them in this office, with a plan, and expectations from their supporters.

      “I’ve had an approach, from a group.” He said.

      “What group?”

      “Business group. Some military. I think they are powerfully connected.”

      “They want to donate? That’s good. ”

      “I get the impression that it’s more than a donation, but they are very cautious. Want to meet with you.”

      “Just me.”

      “Yes.”

      “They gave quite explicit instructions.”

      “Meet in this warehouse so it can be targeted, that sort of thing?”

      Noah sighed. Yes, it was hard to trust anyone.

      “They have a boat. On Westernport. They want to meet on the boat.”

      “Out in the open.”

      “Think about it. We can watch the whole bay. It’s not a busy place. They can watch too. They say they can secure for 100km around.”

      “How?”

      “Some of them are military, they said. I didn’t get them to elaborate.”

      Ruby had more questions, but thought better of it. No pain, no gain. If they really were offering something significant, then she had to take risks.

      The car accelerated as they joined the Westernport highway. The main road south. Early morning. Heavy traffic going the other way. The extreme commuters. Live out in the sticks, leave home at 5am, work in the car for 3 hours. Check in at the office. Then do it again arriving home at 7pm. Her thoughts drifted back to teaching a classroom filled with adolescents. She smiled. Those moments through the fog, the drama, when it connected. When someone actually learned something. For no particular reason she recalled an unscheduled parent meeting. That tight feeling in the stomach. What were they going to complain about? They didn’t fit the profile. Didn’t look like pushy middle class climbers. Bullying? ‘We just want to thank you for all of your work with Eric. He’s never connected with school before.’

      They swirled around a roundabout. She lurched to one side in the seat. Shook the daydream. This was a one way trip, wasn’t it? Rebel leader throws it in and takes a teaching post in Mildura? No. Nope.

      As they pulled into Tooradin she linked her glasses to the drones. Split view. In her view she could take in straight ahead together with the overhead. She told herself that she should trust what she was hearing, that all clear meant just that. The open spaces made her jumpy.

      Tooradin sat at the northern end of Westernport Bay. It was surrounded by housing estates, but it had never really shaken off its country town feel. A nondescript place that everyone drove through at high speed. Ruby approached the jetty, in the mangroves at a small creek. A tiny boat, a nervous fisherman. She smiled at him. Could imagine the windup Noah had given him. No, they hadn’t been tracked, no there wasn’t a government ambush. There was just this small boat puttering out into Westernport bay.

      “Quite shallow is it? I’m Ruby.”

      She extended her hand. His was rough, from an outdoor life.

      “Max.”

      “Ruby.”

      “It’s very shallow. You have to know your way around. Know the tides.”

      “Been doing this long?”

      He smiled.

      “Since I was a kid. It gets into your blood.”

      She thought about that. The jetty was high above the mangroves, and she wondered whether they would be even able to navigate out. But she refrained from asking the obvious tourist question. He wouldn’t be getting the boat ready if they couldn’t make it. Early morning cold, with a slight mist of the water.

      “I just have to check in.” She said

      “Of course.”

      Instinctively she walked up the other end of the jetty, to not be overheard. He just smiled again.

      “Ok?”

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