CHAPTER FIVE

 

The woman who opened the door was dressed, as far as Dana could tell, in a pink business suit. “You must be Dana,” she said in a soft voice. She sounded older, maybe elderly. “Work Control told me you were coming. Please come in. Would you like something to drink?”

Dana was momentarily stunned by her kindness. “No ma’am, thank you, I’m fine.”

“Well, you’ll have your work cut out for you with these two bulbs,” she said, “Follow me.”

They walked to the back of the house, the woman seeming to limp a little. She looked a little frail. The woman said, absentmindedly, “All the maintenance men and gardeners are short these days.” On the way, Dana saw framed photos of two young women and two young men on a table. “My kids!” the woman said brightly. It was unusual. He had never seen pictures of men in any home - occasionally boys, but never men.

They reached a room that covered the entire back of the house, two stories high, all curved glass windows, looking out onto a garden full of flowers artfully arranged. There was rich leather furniture here and there, and rugs with complex designs on the polished wooden floor. Dana had seen some nice homes, but none quite as nice as this.

“Look up,” she said. Dana was careful to keep his back to her as he looked up. There were two chandeliers hanging a meter over his head, each with four type C bulbs, with one of the four burned out. “There’s a big aluminum ladder in the garage. Come on, I’ll help you carry it. Then, I need to watch the news.”

At that moment Dana noticed that a large hanging viewscreen covering part of the wall of the room opposite the windows, and furthermore, it was on with the sound muted. “Uh, ma’am, uh, I’m not supposed to watch viewscreens,” he said.

“I know. It won’t hurt you. I won’t tell. And, this is important.” As she led him toward the garage door, he noticed the viewscreen on the wall to the side of it was showing a group of young women in khaki uniforms, holding what looked like weapons of some kind across their chests, marching in formation. He was careful to keep the video camera in his neck ring pointed away from it.

The ladder had a label on it saying “11.8 kg.” That meant it was OK for Dana to carry if someone else took the other end. Together they brought it into the sunroom and set it up under one of the chandeliers, pointing away from the viewscreen. Dana took out one of the two new bulbs and started to climb. As he did, the woman said “Sound,” and the sound came on the viewscreen. Now he was terribly conflicted. If he listened, he was breaking the Rules very badly. He said nothing. He put his forefinger over the microphone on his neck ring, holding the new bulb with three fingers, and hoped. The woman held onto the lower part of the ladder to steady it.

“General, what is the situation with the southern rebellion?” Dana turned his head slightly to catch the viewscreen out of the corner of his eye. It was showing a young woman interviewing an older, hefty woman in a green tunic with a red sash across her chest, brimming with brilliant, colorful medals. Dana was trying to unscrew the dead bulb one-handed.

“We are confident that we can push the rebels back. We would have finished them last week, but the entry of Mexican troops into the war has caused some reversals. Right now, most of the fighting is south of a line from Phoenix to San Antonio, Texas.” A map appeared on the viewscreen. “We had almost pushed the rebels down to Brownsville, but then we were attacked by the Mexican Army. They are supplying heavy weapons, hypersonic intelligent missiles, intelligent fighting machines, and aircraft, so it will take longer to push them back.” Dana was now concentrating on the dead bulb above his head, but he could still hear everything.

“We thought Mexico was an ally. Why have they joined the rebels?” asked the younger woman.

The general sighed. “What can you expect from a patriarchal culture? They still allow men to vote, hold office, and run things. It’s natural for men to be aggressive and acquisitive. It’s their hormones, as we all know. They want what we have. We will just have to show them that they can’t have it.”

“Casualties?” asked the younger woman.

The General paused. “That’s classified, and this is a public hearing.” There was a murmur from the screen.

Dana had finished with the first bulb replacement and began climbing down the ladder, still one-handed, with a forefinger over the microphone and three fingers holding the dead bulb. He tried not to make his muting of the microphone obvious to the woman, although it must have been. Together, he and the woman moved the ladder under the second chandelier and he began to climb. The viewscreen was now showing a line of eight aircraft, sun glinting off their surfaces, lifting off in formation and disappearing at incredible speed with a roar. They looked much like the ones he had seen earlier.

Another voice was speaking. “From a small disturbance of a few escaped men, the rebellion gave the authorities in south Texas more and more trouble. Somehow, the rebels obtained weapons and staged raids on small military and police installations, killing some of our brave girls, and making off with more weapons and supplies, freeing men along the way by breaking their hardware. As the weeks went by, their testosterone levels rose as the effects of the suppression drug wore off, and their raids began to include rape…”

The woman said, “Off.” Suddenly, the sound went dead, and Dana was able to drop his finger from the mike. He finished replacing the second bulb and climbed down.

He wondered what he would say to the woman. But, she said nothing to him. The silence between them was embarrassing. Finally, she said, “Don’t worry. You never heard that. I won’t tell. No one will question what happens in my house. Thanks for fixing the lights, Dana. It was just in time for a garden party tomorrow. My name is Marjorie, by the way. Let’s put the ladder back.”

Dana walked back to his dorm in a daze. The whole day had been the most confusing of his life. He had always anchored his life around certainties – the dorm, the Matrons, the Rules, the knowledge that as a man, he needed to be carefully controlled, and would be. Now, none of that was certain. Rowan had broken the hardware and had run, and Male Control had not discovered it immediately. Somewhere to the south, there were men who had broken free and were running loose, armed with weapons, freeing other men. And, there was a country called Mexico where men could participate as full citizens, and they were helping the rebellion. He could not let all that show on his face when he returned.

Halfway back to the dorm, his wristband vibrated, and the screen said “7000.” That was a warning that he was getting close to the step limit. No problem, he was only about 600 steps from the dorm.