Frank Klus - Azaleas Don't Bloom Here

“Professor Zinney,” Eugene said, “said these worker-owners would eventually buy their way into the cooperative while the original investors would earn their money back when the labor bought their shares in the co-op from them.”

“What I don’t understand,” said Cassandra, “is what stops them from building a corporate empire of their own so they don’t have to divest themselves from anything, much less share profits with anyone?”

“I’m sure that’s illegal,” Ray said.

“No! Actually, it isn’t,” Pamela answered.

“You mean the same bastards that destroyed Old America could do the same to New America? I don’t believe it,” Ray said.

“A few tried, but they failed. They didn’t have the clout they had in Old America where they could destroy the cooperatives. They tried replacing them with democratic corporations. They gave workers a say in management, and did away with layoffs. The workers had a vote in any strategic decisions management wanted, but it didn’t work.”

“Yeah, professor Zinney told his class about it,” Eugene said. “The university allowed him to teach the history of cooperatives in Old America and the formation of New America as history. He said it collapsed. Once labor decisions threatened profits, management simply rigged the system to make sure they’d always have the votes.”

“Sounds like Old American government,” Ray said. “Once they control the media and education they can control the message. Control the message and everyone votes the way they want them to, even if the people think they’re making the decisions for themselves.”

“Exactly!” Cassandra said. “They think they still have democracy, still have choice, but if the only message you hear is the one the rich and powerful want you to hear, then you end up voting for their program.”

“It’s how totalitarianism works,” Eugene said. “Control all aspects of communication, limit the power of the opposition, but don’t get rid of it completely—”

“That way there is the illusion of choice,” Ray said. “First, create laws that negatively affect the voters, then there will be opposition to those laws; then the law is repealed or fails in the first place. The voters think this is democracy, but what they didn’t understand was that the leadership never wanted that law in the first place.”

“Huh,” Pamela said incredulously.

Ray just smiled. “Take welfare, for example. NOGOV doesn’t want it, so they pressure government to increase taxes that the Middle Class bears the brunt of. The taxes pay for welfare. The Middle Class hates this arrangement and pressures government to get rid of welfare; believing the taxes go away. Maybe it does or maybe they’re used to pay for something else they want to get rid of.”

“It’s all a racket,” said Cassandra.

“What happens is that there is less money in circulation to buy things—”

“And when that happens,” said Pamela, “everything falls apart.”

Ray nodded in agreement. “Less demand, less supply. For the rich, it means everything costs more. They have to use more of their wealth to pay for things that used to be so cheap.”

“Is that why they have a problem with electricity even in the Fortress?” Eugene asked.

“Exactly!” Ray said. “First, they have to build their own generators at enormous cost, and then it’s costlier than ever to get fuel. Although fuel is cheap these days, it’s very expensive to have it shipped to the Fortress.”

“Could this happen in New America too, Pamela?” Eugene asked. “I mean could corporations rise again, rig the system, and kill off the economy?”

“No, not at all. The Constitution has provisions to make totalitarianism virtually impossible, but that doesn’t explain why corporations don’t do well there. They fail because labor gravitates toward the cooperatives. They get better pay, because they can vote on that, and they get a share of the profits. They can plow that share into the cooperative itself, become an owner, and get even a bigger share. Corporations just can’t compete. Generally, corporations only exist in certain areas where cooperative jobs are hard to find.”

The group continued discussing life on the other side, but Ray had more on his mind. Chad Armstrong said he’d meet them in this parking lot in twelve hours, and that was ten hours ago. It would be a long two hours because he didn’t know if Armstrong would get here before the Hogs would.

“Thanks for coming, Beverly,” Jaydan Casimir said.

“How are you holding up, Jay?” she asked.

“Not very well. I’m frantic. You want a drink?”

She made a face, and Jaydan realized it was only nine in the morning. “How about a cup of coffee?”

“Love it.”

Jaydan made the coffee and fixed himself a drink. He didn’t much care what hour of the day it was. Beverly just smiled.

“You keep her company often, right?” Casimir said.

“I come over about once a week. She keeps me company too. We’re a couple of lonely housewives. I don’t have any close friends. People… you know… get fearful around me. They tend not to open up to me.”

“Why?”

“You know….” She stopped in mid-thought, wondering how to put it. Jaydan just stared at her, not comprehending what she was holding back.

“People are afraid that whatever they tell me would go straight to John. Then—”

“Oh, I understand,” Jaydan said. “I guess it’s a hazard of the job. The job is tough enough on us, but I guess I never realized how tough it is on the wives.” Casimir never told Beverly about Sandy’s “treatment”. That was a heavily guarded secret. Sandy was sort of programmed to accept not just her relationship with Jaydan Casimir, but to see the loneliness of the marriage as perfectly natural.

“You want to know if she said anything about leaving.”

“Yes. Did she? If she did, please don’t let promises between girlfriends stop you from telling me.”

“No promises, and no information about leaving, either. I doubt she’d tell me given… well, you know.”

“Of course. I figured as much, but did she give you any sort of clue? Did she ever mention the name, Fernando?”

“Well,” she hesitated, “she did mention his name in a dream she had.”

“Did she say anything else about her dreams?”

“Just something about connecting dots.”

It was 2:45 p.m. when a black late model Chevy Suburban pulled into the parking lot. It was Armstrong. He was running about a half-hour late, and Ray was relieved to see him.

“Hey, bro,” Chad Armstrong said to Ray O’Reilly. Cassandra came out and hugged him. “Boy, are we glad to see you.” Armstrong smiled. “Okay, guys, tell me what’s going on.” Ray explained how he expected a confrontation with the Hogs soon. He couldn’t be absolutely sure they didn’t know where they were or what they were driving. “It’s an eerie feeling, Chad. I just feel like they’re toying with us. Now I know what a blind person feels like. Stay in your house, you’re fine. You know where everything is. Go outside, and who knows?” “What you need is to find out where they are; and you can bet it isn’t just the Hogs, it’s the Lightning Squad too.” “I don’t know where they are. I only know they’re out there, and they want to capture or kill us.” “My plan is to let them find us. I got Foote, Wrenn, and Bones with me. With you and Cassandra, we can take them on. Where are you staying?” “About a mile away.” They took out two additional rooms for the night. Chad and his men would watch for the enemy from the Suburban. If the Hogs don’t show up they planned to retrace their steps and head west again until they reached the Dakotas, and then head for the Canadian border. The night was quiet. No one showed up as dawn rose over the eastern roof of the inn. Chad knocked on Ray and Cassandra’s door. Ray answered, ready to go. He then knocked on Eugene’s room, but there was no answer. He knocked a little harder, but there was still no answer. He walked over to Pamela’s door. Pamela and Eugene shared a double and it was possible Eugene was over on Pamela’s side. He knocked on her door. No answer. Now he was beginning to get worried. He knocked harder and yelled for Pamela, but there was still no answer. Ray heard the commotion and came over. Then he checked to see if her vehicle was still in the parking lot. It was. “I’ll get the manager.” He entered the office, and the manager was just making coffee. “Good morning,” Ray said. The manager turned around and greeted him. “Two of your guests are missing—the Mulligans.” “Missing?” “Yeah—as in not answering our knock.” “Well, they’re probably showering.” “No, I don’t think they’re in there.” “Maybe they went out for breakfast.” “Is there a restaurant within short walking distance?” The manager thought a moment, and then shrugged his shoulders. “They knew we were leaving now. I would appreciate it if you could check on them.” The manager knocked first, and then entered Pamela’s room. No one was in there. Ray entered Eugene’s room, but he wasn’t there either. Their clothes were there and the beds were slept in, but they were gone. The front desk guy didn’t seem concerned as they were paid through the night. They all agreed to meet in Ray and Cassandra’s room to try and figure out what happened. “How is this possible, Chad?” Ray said. “What if the Hogs found us?” Cassandra said. “Bones and me watched the motel through the night,” said Chad. “Nothing happened.” “Well, there was the white cargo van that pulled up around midnight,” Bones said. “Was that the one parked in front of Eugene’s room? I remember seeing one when I took over the 0300 watch.” “Yeah, that’s the one. A couple guys got out and went upstairs.” “You think those guys kidnapped them?” Foote said. “It shouldn’t be possible,” Chad said. Ray looked askance. “…unless someone fell asleep.” “I swear to God I did not fall asleep,” Bones said. Chad sighed. “It’s clear one of us did. We didn’t get much sleep on the way here.” “Wait a second,” Bones said. “I remembered looking at the license plate. It’s a habit I developed over the years. I also looked for some details about the cargo van. Then I didn’t think about it anymore.” “How ‘bout it, Bones?” Ray said. “The cargo van was white and new—no dings or dents, not even a scrape. The plate was something like AGS, and there was a four in there.” Ray frowned. “You mean you didn’t write it down?” “There was no reason to. I never write the plate down. Ninety-nine percent of the time there’s no reason to do so. Besides, we should have enough of the plate, and the fact it’s a cargo van, white, and new or late model.” “It’s enough information,” Armstrong said. Wrenn spoke up. “Lay yah two to one odds it’s a rental.” “The front office,” Ray said. “They may be able to give us more information.” Chad shook his head. “Don’t be too sure. Privacy and all, and we aren’t exactly the police.” “For a couple C-notes he might tell us who it was,” Ray said. Chad thought about it for a second. “Couldn’t hurt.” Ray came back about fifteen minutes later. “It’s Carlos Colderon, and I got the license plate.” “Now we need to know which direction they went. We’ll need to split up. Ray and Cassandra—you go north. We’ll go south.” “I can hotwire Pamela’s car,” Bones said. “Then we can have three vehicles searching. That way we can cover more roads.” “Why should we even bother to go north?” Cassandra said. “They’re probably heading back to Illinois. There’s no reason to go north.” “Yeah, there is,” Bones said. “We’re just assuming they would be headed back to Illinois, but we don’t exactly know that for sure.” “Exactly,” Chad said. “That’s why I want you traveling north. And, everyone, I have a map of Squad battalion headquarters. Check all along or near your route. They may have taken them there.” “What chance do we really have?” Ray said. “They have a head start of several hours. My guess is that they’re taking them to the new Hell House, and I don’t know where that is.” “I have an idea,” Chad said. “Those two doctors have inside information. Maybe they can help us.” Chad pulled out his mobile phone and punched in the number. The phone rang. A moment later, “Dr. Schmidt? Hello, this is Chad Armstrong.” (Pause) “No, I’m sorry. Not yet. Look, we have a problem. Pamela Piper and her charge, Eugene Sulke, have been kidnapped—” (Pause) “Look, it just happened. We have to focus on getting them back. We know they were taken in a white cargo van, new, license plate ASG 410. Do you know who it might belong to?” After a moment and turning to the group, “He put me on hold.” “Huh? Jesus. Okay. Call me if you find out anything more.” Turning to the other members of the group, “He doesn’t know who it belongs to, but they won’t be bringing them to the new Hell House. They’ve shut down the Brain Probe Operation, and….” Chad hesitated to continue. “What is it?” Ray said. “He thinks they’re just going to kill them.”