Chapter Twenty-Seven: Help From Prison

Saturday, August 28, 2100

“So you figured it out,” Dr. Heilig said. She was dressed in prison grays, and lay shackled on a prison hospital bed. The doctor verified that she hadn’t left the bed in the three days since she’d attacked Toby. All prisoners in hospital beds are shackled by law, he’d explained, but they were pointless in her case. He assured Toby that even if she broke free of her shackles, she couldn’t walk on her own, that she’d be dead in minutes if she were not connected to the various machines that surrounded her bed.

“It was Full VR the whole time,” he said.

“Of course,” she said. “One of my confederates stunned your bodyguards when they were drunk.” She clicked her tongue in disapproval. “You should talk to them about their drinking, a nasty habit. When they searched my room, they were under VR via their TCs, and so we were able to hide the stunner. A TC’s not designed for VR, and its capability is limited and produces monstrous headaches.”

“And so did I,” Toby said.

“I didn’t stun you,” she said. “My Full VR connector was disguised as a stunner disguised as a pen. It is a working stunner—it had to be, to fool anyone—I just didn’t use it that way. They thought you were in a coma all this time from my stunning you, when you were in Full VR. The two are indistinguishable, unless you suspect Full VR and look for it. You were in Full VR both when you were disabled and when I came to you and tricked you into thinking I had taken you out of it. I played myself, Dr. Artaud, the physical therapist, and Bruce, using a connector from right here in my prison cell, though they’ve since found it and taken it away. I studied Bruce’s mannerisms in advance—what did you think of my performance?” She paused, smiling when Toby didn’t answer. “With Full VR, you were able to experience what it’s like to be disabled, and what it’s like for a disabled person to live in Full VR. I hope I’ve given you a lot to think about.”

“You have,” Toby said. “And that was a pretty good Bruce you did. But we’ve lost three days on the campaign trail.”

“Which is better than losing the weeks you lived in Full VR,” she said. “We speeded things up for you with some time perception changes.”

“It still only gives us four days to campaign, including election day.”

“How many electoral votes did you win in Oceania?” she asked, a grin crossing her face.

“Zero.”

“Canada has six. You have my endorsement.”

* * *

With Dr. Heilig’s public endorsement—made from prison—Toby shot up in the Canadian polls. New numbers put Toby tied with Ajala for the lead at 33%, with Dubois at 30%. His rise had come mostly at the expense of Ajala, who had been leading at 44% before, and from undecided voters.

He’d also moved up some in USA and Mexican polls. In USA, new polls had Dubois at 40%, Ajala 29%, and Platt 23%. Ajala still led in Mexico with 41%, with Dubois at 37%, and Platt at 13%.

“Provisional Full VR” became part of Toby’s stump speech and ads. Bruce didn’t like using the word “provisional,” since they already had a “Provisional Universal Food Foundation,” and because he thought the word showed indecisiveness, but Toby liked it. It had a moderation feel to it. Under his new plan, Full VR would be legal for those whose lives would otherwise be significantly disadvantaged, with a doctor’s signoff. They would become regular features in hospices and retirement communities, and for the disabled.

Campaign contributions had shot up after the “Dinner Debate Down Under,” and with Heilig’s endorsement, they went up even more. They could now afford more ads throughout North American and the rest of the world. Meanwhile, Gene had a full schedule throughout the continent for Toby over the next few days, with nearly non-stop news programs, speeches at rallies, and fundraisers.

“You should spend more time unconscious,” Bruce said of their rising fortunes.

“You are alive!” Twenty-two had exclaimed when she first saw Toby after his apparent coma. Originally, the alien was going to split her time evenly between Toby and Ajala in North America, but Toby learned that she, along with Bruce, had stayed at his bedside throughout much of his ordeal. She had finally left for a short visit with Ajala, returning immediately when she heard Toby was awake. Toby had had only two arms to defend against the avalanche of four arms and two eyestalks that grabbed and hugged him, to Bruce’s merriment.

* * *

Soon they were on their way to a fundraiser in Mexico City, to be followed by a rally and a speech, both in commemoration of the tenth anniversary of Mexican Liberation Day. Toby and Bruce sat opposite each other at the table in the Rocinante. The alien stood next to them.

Turk and Crowbar sat in the back, red-faced from the rather blunt dressing down Bruce had given them for getting fooled by Dr. Heilig, and about their off-duty drinking, which had left them vulnerable to her plot. But they had decided to retain their services. As Bruce pointed out with a straight face, you’d have to be as smart as he himself was to avoid being outwitted by Heilig, and people that smart don’t come along very often.

“What is a fundraiser?” Twenty-two asked.

“Running campaigns is expensive,” Toby said. “A fundraiser is where you get much of the money.”

“It’s where you get a bunch of rich folk together,” Bruce said, “look them in the eye, and ask for their money.”

Twenty-two had an eyestalk on each of them. “So rich people influence elections with their money? This is where you explain how money votes?” The alien picked up Stupid and put him on her head. “I am afraid I will need my stupid hat.”

“Good move,” Bruce said.

“Yes, rich people do have more influence,” Toby said. “But remember, money doesn’t vote. People vote.”

“And if you believe that,” Bruce said, “I’ve got a nice flying saucer in Washington D.C. I’d like to sell you.”

“You want to sell my spaceship?” Twenty-two asked.

“That was a joke,” Toby said. “I think.”

“Only the part about selling your spaceship was a joke,” Bruce said. “Not the part about money not voting. It does.”

Both of Twenty-two’s eyestalks were on Bruce. Stupid began to purr.

“Yes, that does need explaining, doesn’t it?” Bruce pulled a ping-pong ball out of his pocket and began tossing it up and down. “We only brushed on that subject last time.”

Toby realized he’d been fiddling with his scarf since the fundraising discussion began. He wondered if Twenty-two had noticed human nervous habits—scarf fiddling and ping-pong ball tossing. Then he noticed that the alien was slowly rocking side to side. Touché, he thought; what was it about raising money for an election that put everyone on edge?

“To start off with,” Bruce said, “There are two types of politicians. Honest ones and dishonest ones”

“I’m looking forward to learning where I stand,” Toby said. One of Twenty-two’s eyestalks glanced at Toby, giving his feet a look-over, then returned to Bruce.

“Honest politicians,” Bruce said, “get funding from those who support their policies; dishonest ones change their policies to get funding.” He caught the ping-pong ball and returned it to his pocket.

“Unfortunately,” Bruce continued, “the dishonest ones are usually more successful.”

“If records of who gave money to candidates were public,” Twenty-two said, “then voters would see this.”

“The funding is public,” Bruce said. He pulled the ping-pong ball back out and began tossing it in the air again. Toby realized he was fiddling with his scarf again.

“Do not voters see which candidates are dishonest?” Twenty-two asked.

“When they choose to,” Bruce said. “Usually they base this on their party affiliation.”

“Please explain.”

“It’s quite simple,” Bruce said. “If you are a conservative, then the Liberal Party candidate is dishonest. If you are a liberal, then the Conservative Party candidate is dishonest.”

Twenty-two began squeaking, which Toby recognized as grod laughter. She was not really the laughing sort, but when she laughed, she went all the way.

As Bruce tossed the ping-pong ball up, Twenty-two leaned forward and swatted it across the floater with one of her eyestalks. “I’ve been wanting to do that.” Toby was impressed; the alien’s eyestalks were like extra appendages, as strong and sturdy as an arm, not the soft, wimpy eyestalks of Earth creatures like snails. Stupid jumped off her head and retrieved the ball, returning it to Bruce, who took it from his mouth. Toby wondered if there was a bit of dog in Stupid.

“I should teach you to play table tennis,” Bruce said to the alien.

“Which type of candidate are you?” Twenty-two asked.

“Having no chance of winning is a liberating influence,” Toby said. “Also, while half the voters think Conservative Party candidates are dishonest, and the other half think the same of Liberal Party candidates, they don’t know yet what to make of us Moderates.”

“Yes, all one of you,” Bruce said. “They all got together and voted 1-0 to be an honest candidate, against my advice.”

After a bit more squeaking, Twenty-two asked, “If you will not change your policies to match the rich people, how will you convince them to give you their money?”

“Armed robbery,” Bruce said.

“Really?”

“He’s joking again,” Toby said. “You may never figure out our politics, but eventually you’ll figure out Bruce’s sense of humor. When you do, explain it to me.”

“You did not answer the question,” Twenty-two said.

“The first lesson,” Bruce said, “is that most rich people donate their money to oppose someone, not to support someone. The most successful fundraisers are when you get a bunch of people together who hate the person you’re running against. They’ll barely notice your candidate, as long as he mouths slogans that vilify the opponent.”

Bruce tossed the ping-pong ball down the floater’s corridor and watched Stupid fetch it. “The second lesson is that once you get these rich people together, if you promise them something—access to the candidate, a position in the administration if we win, and so on—they’ll sell their children into slavery to raise money for you.”

“He doesn’t mean that last part literally,” Toby said.

“Only because we’re against slavery, for the most part,” Bruce said. “Do you want to see a fundraiser in action, and see how we convince rich people to give money to people who won’t necessarily support their policies, and have no chance of winning anyway?”

“Yes.”

“Watch and learn.”