SHE’D LIVED at the house for six days when Martin came on June 27. The others fell over themselves trying to get an audience with him, but Ingrid could see that what they really wanted was reassurance. They wanted to know what they were supposed to be doing. Martin was trying out his disappearance-and-reappearance idea, and he asked what they thought would happen if all of them returned to their homes on the same day and said nothing.
“Say nothing?” Albuquerque George demanded. “Then what do you think’s gonna happen? Nothing! This is bullshit.”
Martin didn’t defend his idea, just looked around for more reactions. Mary from South Carolina shook her head. “Well, first of all, it would be a media sensation. Every local station would carry it, and the national media. Then they’d ask us questions: Where were you? More importantly: What are you planning?”
“But no one says a thing,” Ingrid said.
Mary nodded. “What will they think? They’ll think we are planning something.”
George shook his head. “And you know what they’ll do? They’ll arrest us all. Which is why we disappeared in the first place!”
“Will they?” Mary asked.
“They can’t,” Ingrid said. “None of us have broken the law.” She turned to Martin, who was watching them hash it out. “They’ll be terrified.”
Mary nodded. “And there’ll be nothing they can do but live with their fear.”
Ingrid was finally able to see it, that by returning and saying nothing they would be able to create a kind of terror that the elite had never felt before. Because unlike demonstrations that filled the streets of American cities, this threat would be invisible, something that could not be monitored, because it remained locked away in these young people’s heads. And the media would be Massive’s ally, whipping up a fury of breaking news excitement that would set the country on edge.
So simple.
Martin turned to Albuquerque George, who was still frowning. “What do you think?”
He scratched at his eye, shaking his head. “It’s just not how I imagined it.”
Mary grinned. “You imagined soldiers shooting cops in Lolo. That’s a lack of imagination.”
“No it’s not,” Martin said. “It’s an expression of frustration. That’s all any of this is, an expression of anger. But we’ve always known that the only way for the ruling class to serve us is for them to fear us. I’m just trying to find a way to accomplish that without getting anyone killed.”
“So is that the plan?” George asked. “Is it settled?”
“This isn’t an autocracy,” Martin said. “I’m going around and collecting opinions. And even if we do it, we want to wait long enough for everyone’s absence to be noted. It’s not in the news yet.”
“They’ll arrest you,” said another Mary, from Toledo. “There’s a warrant out for you.”
Martin shrugged. “I can spend some time behind bars. I’ll be in good company. But even if they can’t arrest you, you should know that there will be resistance. You’ll be harassed; some will be beaten. Maybe killed. In some ways, this would be harder than heading into town with machine guns.”
“But then what happens?” George asked. “We’re there, we’re silent. Eventually the news will find other shiny things to look at.”
“That,” Martin said, “is another reason I’m bringing this to everyone. What do you think?”
They spent the rest of the evening discussing possible next actions, and the ideas ranged from violence to hackers leaking state secrets to another mass disappearance, but larger this time. By the time they’d finished dinner, Ingrid had tired of the conversation and went out to the porch, where she tried to identify constellations in the clear night sky. The Big Dipper, curiously enough, eluded her. Eventually, the door opened, and Martin came out with a beer in his hand. He sat down beside her and said, “How many months?”
By then, everyone in the house knew that she was pregnant, and now Martin did as well. “Four and a half. If I wasn’t wearing this sweatshirt, you’d be able to tell.”
“Taking care of yourself?”
“Yep.”
He sipped at his beer. “You don’t have to stay with us, you know. No one knows what’s around the corner. We make our plans, but all it takes is one gun-happy Fed to ruin your day.”
“Stop worrying about me, okay?”
He grinned. “Listen, tomorrow morning I’m heading out. For the next few weeks I’ll be visiting safe houses, and we’ll have this same conversation. Would you like to come?”
“Me?”
“A grand tour of the Resistance.”
She looked up and found the Big Dipper immediately. It had been there all along. “Why me? You think you can protect the pregnant lady only if you’re next to her?”
He rocked his head. “I’ve got thousands of miles ahead of me, and the most important thing I need is good conversation.”
She thought a moment, then nodded. “But first I need to mail something to my husband.”