Saturday morning Dodd had gone down to the regional office of the Politico Network and scheduled himself for their Politico Free Speech Forum. It had cost him $1700 plus another $3000 for a “non-profanity bond” to secure 5 minutes of air time. His payment came right from his moneycard – there was a slot on the man’s desk – and he was handed a thick printout of all the words considered “profane” by the bond which he’d entered into.
Dodd was bewildered by the list of words. “I thought this was a supposed to be a free speech forum?”
“Of course,” the short, black-haired man with the sunken eyes had explained. He was the regional Politico Network sales representative. “The non-use of these potentially sensitive words protects the rights of free speech for everybody.”
“You mean if I use one of these words over the air, I’ll lose my three thousand?”
“Yes sir.”
Dodd wasn’t happy about it, but he’d already paid the bond and signed the promise. There was nothing to do but go by the rules. He took the list home and fed it into his house computer.
“Warn me if I use one of these words when I’m writing the speech,”
he instructed it.
Three hours later he had to take a break. The words kept popping up. It seemed he wouldn’t be able to use any trademarks, company names, references to God, strong descriptive words, but he could use most of the words he thought he couldn’t use; he could say “fuck” or “shit” or “shithead”, but he couldn’t use the words “hell” or “damn” or “Travels.” As he was trying to write, a little beep would warn him that he was using yet another of the forbidden words. That little beep was driving him up the wall.
“Dodd, you’re going to break that terminal if you don’t stop hitting it,” Sheila said.
“I can’t help it!”
She came up from behind him, began massaging his shoulders.
Then she was kissing his ear. Her hands slid down his sides and to his stomach, then lower. “Sheila,” Dodd said, “please.”
“Oh, come on, Dodd. I’m ready for you. Come on.”
“Sheila, we’ve had a lot of sex lately. I’m not in the mood right now.”
She pulled away with an over-dramatic sigh. “I’m so bored.”
Dodd listened as she walked down to the bedroom and jumped on the bed. After a few moments he heard the whirring sound of her Vibrato.
Take away her Travels and she becomes a nymphomaniac, Dodd thought. And some men would consider me lucky.
Dodd sent his speech into storage, then brought the phone menu up and dialed Bob Recent’s number. He set the phone to alert him if and when it was ever answered, and he got up and went to the refrigerator to get himself a glass of wine. The terminal signaled that someone had answered, and Dodd walked back over to find it was only Bob Recent’s computer. What’s the point in leaving a message? he thought. You’ll never return it.
Then Dodd smiled. He knew Bob’s access code. He typed it in and got a menu from Bob’s house computer, and he got into the television programming and instructed it to tune to the Politico station at the exact date and time of his scheduled appearance. He exited, snickering, and then dialed Toby’s number. It, too, rang for a long time, only to be answered by Toby’s computer. It just so happened that Dodd knew Toby’s access code as well. He accessed Toby’s computer and did the same thing as he’d done on Bob’s. Bob and Toby were going to see his speech whether they wanted to or not.
From down in the bedroom came low moaning sounds, the moaning growing louder. She’s going to climax in about twenty seconds, he thought, sipping his wine. It made him feel lonely, sitting out there by himself when she was in the bedroom climaxing. Even if he was down there with her, her orgasm had nothing to do with him.
Sheila was in her own little land, all by herself, whether it was Dodd stimulating her or her battery powered Vibrato. It was all just stimulation to her; no meaning, no purpose, just stimulation.
His feeling of loneliness grew as he listened to her orgasm.
It was a big one. Is she thinking of me? he wondered. Or is she imagining a bouncing Travels sphere? He knew for a fact that when she dreamed, she was dreaming of the sphere. She had confessed this to him that very morning.
The buzzing sound continued. Sheila was going for another one. Dodd sighed and called his speech back up onto the screen, looking over the pitiful amount he’d accomplished. Why bother with this? he thought. Who’s going to listen to me? Hell, he thought, why continue working? Why plot and save for having children? So they can grow up to watch Travels and JTV, and be paid not to have any children?
Down in the bedroom, Sheila’s second orgasm was building.
“You’re depressing me!” Dodd yelled at her. Her moaning didn’t falter, and she climaxed again, this time even bigger.
I could always follow Savina’s boyfriend’s footsteps, he thought bitterly. Back before the war, during the population crisis, it was vogue to commit suicide. Now it’s passe. The new thing is sedation; sedation through television, sedation through religion, sedation through sex.
Where is Sheila’s love of life?
And, he thought, what about mine?
I should immigrate, he thought. That’s what I should do.
Become an interstellar pioneer. I’ve got the money. I’ll use my progeny savings, and up there in the colonies there are no taxes on children. They need children. But that would be running away, wouldn’t it? Dropping everything and leaving. Dodd thought about this for a while, and decided that not only was it running away, it was running in vain. The problem was a problem with people, not planets. The problem would just follow him out there.
Dodd continued working on his speech, phrasing it carefully and delicately, avoiding the forbidden words as he went. At the very least, the task was constructive. He wouldn’t know if it was futile until it was all over, and by that time it shouldn’t matter because at least he was trying and not simply giving up.
31. MIRRO
When Mirro and Vicky returned from their abrupt and lengthy vacation, Saul had the absolute pleasure of firing Vicky. She stood in the middle of his new office, staring at him in disbelief. He faced her squarely, sitting behind the large luxury desk.
“What?” she muttered in a small voice. “I’m fired?”
“Don’t you realize how long you were away from your job?
Don’t you realize I needed you desperately, and you were just not here? I had to replace you with someone I could depend on.”
“Saul, my son is dead!”
“Your son was a convicted felon and he chose an easy way out.
You should be glad he’s out of his misery.”
“Saul!”
“This whole thing about your son is not an ample excuse for you being gone as long as you were. One or two days, maybe. Even when I needed you most, I could understand one or two days. And had you been around, had you even kept in contact or shown up for a few hours between your supposed meetings with lawyers and then the funeral, I would have been able to promote you to my former position. But as it stands I had to fill both our positions, your old one and my old one, and it’s already done and final. The only thing you can do is go down to the personnel office and collect your termination pay. Get the hell out of here.”
Vicky stared at him in horror and panic. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open in a comic expression. Saul, seeing her like this, could not help but grin. It was too funny.
“It’s about me and Mirro, isn’t it?” she finally said.
“You’re jealous, and you’re getting back at me. Right?”
“I don’t give a fuck about that.”
“Oh yes you do, Saul! That’s exactly what this is about. I know it. I know it, Saul.”
“You know nothing. You’re an incompetent, whining, do-nothing type of person and I refuse to let you drop your responsibilities upon me again. Leave.”
“You’re not getting away with this. You can’t–-”
“Get the hell out of here!” Saul yelled, standing up and pointing at the door. “Get out before I kick you out! Move!”
“You’re going to hear from Mirro about this,” Vicky said. But she turned and left, her face ghostly pale.
Saul grinned at her retreating back, his lips stretched wide and triumphant. Mirro indeed! Let Mirro squawk about her poor lost little lover. Let her rant and rave. It was not going to bother him in the least.
Calls came in; more business, more board members panicking.