Infiltrator

consumerist society.'

'And all-out surrender is?' he asked acidly. 'So tell me, Louise,' she flinched.

'Buying a new truck, hiring migrant workers, how is that going to do something for the movement? I never thought I'd see the day when you, of all people'—he looked at each face around the table —'would even suggest supporting the system that has exploited those people for generations.'

They looked shamefaced for a moment, and then Branwyn raised her broad face to him.

'Well,' she said sweetly, 'if you lent a hand now and again, maybe we wouldn't be thinking of hiring people. But the loss of an able-bodied man is hurting us.

And, frankly, I'm planning a child of my own. So I won't be climbing trees for quite a few months. Which means that someone else will have to do the pruning.' She offered him a bold look. 'HI take over the newsletter for you.'

'That's a great idea!'-' Ron sneered. 'We're supposed to be starting a revolution, and you'll be offering handy tips on washing windows with vinegar and making hand cream with lanolin and beeswax. That ought to change things!'

Baldur looked at him with those big soft eyes of his and said sadly, 'The revolution is supposed to come about based on our example and the free exchange of information. You used to download stuff for us all the time about what other organic farmers were doing. You haven't done that in nearly a year.

Has everybody gone out of business, or what?'

'We are not a business.' Ron shouted, hitting the table with his fist hard enough

to make his plate bounce. 'We are the seeds of a revolution.'

Brian started to cry and Lisa rose from the table, walking back and forth with the baby in her arms. She jogged him and shushed him and glared at Ronald.

Ayesha rubbed a hand over her dark brow and looked at her friends around the table with troubled eyes. 'We ah part of a revolution, Ron,' she said. 'Part of the back-to-the-earth revolution. And we've been so successful that the big concerns ah coming to us to learn how to do what we do. I got this bad feelin', though, that we ah talkin' about different things these days when the word 'revolution' comes up.'

Ron glared at her. Dear Ayesha, he thought. Always so tactful. At this moment he found it hard to believe that the sound of her soft accent and the sight of her dark skin used to set him trembling with desire. Right now his sole desire was to strangle her. To murder the whole lot of them. He couldn't believe they'd turned against him like this. Obviously they'd been talking behind his back.

'So what's the bottom line here?' he asked. 'Since you've all become so bizzz-ness-oriented.'

'The bottom line is straighten up your act or take a hike. This isn't a welfare state,' Branwyn said.

The others shifted uneasily. They wouldn't have put it quite so harshly, but that's what he got for calling her Louise.

'And this isn't Jonestown either,' Lisa said. 'Or any other cult where the women are cattle that get whacked when they don't go where you want.'

The others looked at her in astonishment, then at Ron, their mouths hanging open.

'I've never hit you in my life!' Ron protested.

'I've been wondering just lately how long that's going to last,' Lisa snapped.

'This afternoon when you ordered me out of the house and started to get up with that look on your face…'

'I was going to close the office door!' He stared at her in frank astonishment.

'The fact that you are apparently paranoid doesn't make me the kind of pig who beats his wife.'

'I'm not your wife!'

Ronald threw up his hands. No, she wasn't his wife, but she might as well be.

Over time they'd paired off and Lisa and he had been pretty exclusive for about five years now. She'd had his son, they shared a bed, what more did it take?

'Beats women,' he amended. 'I'm not the kind of pig that beats women.'

Though right now it was beginning to look like a fun thing to do. The people around the table glanced at each other nervously. He didn't know these people anymore—they were older, they were settled, they'd lost their fire. In short, they'd turned into backstabbing, backsliding, budding capitalists. He couldn't let them get in the way of his work.

'All right,' he said, hiding his resentment, 'put me on the work list.'

He got up and went back into the office, softly closing the door behind him. He'd have to move his plans to a new level. Perhaps if he presented it to them in the form of a business plan, it wouldn't scare the craven-hearted losers into full flight.

They weren't his friends and allies anymore, Lisa wasn't his wife, they were assets that he could make use of to achieve his goal. This was the worst betrayal he'd ever allow himself to experience. There wouldn't be another, because he'd never again make the assumption that he had friends.

Ron had always heard that leaders walked alone. Now he knew why. You couldn't afford to let people distract you, because they'd slow you down or stop you completely if they could. And you'd have nobody to blame but yourself.

LOS ANGELES INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT: THE PRESENT

Serena entered the airport wearing a linen pant suit with a tan silk blouse. On her feet were a pair of moderately uncomfortable shoes and at her side was a carry-on bag filled with underpants and stockings and the clothes she'd stolen. She also carried an empty purse and a cheap attache case. She'd been shocked at how expensive these few things had been. Less than a hundred dollars remained in her pocket.

Taking off her sunglasses, she looked around, impressed by the size and bustle.

She wandered for a bit, entered a rest room, where she washed her hands. When the room emptied she tossed her purse and briefcase into her carry-on bag. Then she went looking for airport security.

'You hear about things like this happening,' she said, shamefaced, 'but you don't expect it to happen to you.' She brushed back her hair and tightened her

lips.

It was hard not to stare at the woman behind the desk; she was very overweight and Serena had never seen anyone in such condition in her own time. Skynet didn't allow dysfunction, and the free humans just barely got enough to eat when they were lucky. It fascinated her.

I wonder what could be causing this problem. It must be a problem; these people were less than optimally healthy. How big can humans get without dying? There had to be an upward limit to this phenomenon.

'Happens every day,' the bored security woman told her. 'The best we can do is file a report so that your insurance company will be satisfied, and your bank. But I'm afraid you'll probably never see your belongings again.'

The 1-950 shrugged and rolled her eyes. 'I know. I don't expect miracles. After all, I never even got a look at the thieves.'

Her story was that she was in a toilet stall when two women or girls grabbed her purse and her laptop from above and below the stall. By the time she got out, they were long gone.

Serena sighed. 'Just another day in the big city,' she said with a rueful expression.

'Travelers Aid might be able to give you a hand,' the security woman suggested dubiously. She never had figured out what those people were supposed to be for.

When they were at their desks at all.

Serena waved a hand. 'Fortunately I've got some cash in my pocket. I'll just get to my hotel and they'll help me out. Thank you for your assistance,' she said, and extended her hand.

Surprised, the woman shook it. 'Good luck,' she said.

'After this I deserve some,' Serena said over her shoulder as she departed.