Summer was led to a windowless classroom. The walls were painted the same off-white as the hallway, with the same light green linoleum on the floor. The female guard guided her to one of the open desks in the back. The sturdy steel desks were bolted to the floor, and Summer was locked to the desk by her handcuffs. Twenty-five desks were in the square room, arranged in symmetrical rows of five. A handful of guards stood to the side, watching for trouble. The other inmates were mostly people of color, many of them covered in ink and wild-eyed, all of them female. Summer wondered if the island was segregated by sex somehow. She thought that was unlikely and terrifying. One of the female inmates blew Summer a kiss. Summer looked away.
A male guard marched to the head of the class. His name tag read Green.
One inmate said to another, “Fuck you, bitch.”
“You’re the bitch I’m a kill first,” the other inmate replied.
“Shut up,” Green said.
And they did.
Green continued. “Listen up. There’s a short video. I suggest you pay attention. After the video, you’ll be transported by bus to the ship.”
“I’m hungrier than a mufucker,” an inmate said.
Green glowered at the woman with cornrows, then raised his gaze to the guards in the back. “Put her on the bus. She can sit in the heat until we leave.”
Two male guards unlocked the inmate from her desk and forced her from the room.
Once she was gone, Green said, “Anybody else?”
Dead silence.
“That’s what I thought. By the way, you’ll eat on the boat.” Green stepped to the side and removed a remote from his pocket. He pressed the remote and a large OLED television lowered from the ceiling. A video played on the screen.
A middle-aged blonde, wearing a billowy sundress, walked on a sandy beach with crystal-blue waters. Summer recognized her as a mildly famous actress well past her prime. “I’m Blair Brando. I’ll be your guide as you transition to the next phase of your life. You might’ve seen me in various movies and on TV, but this is by far my most important role. You’re probably feeling a little nervous right now. Maybe even scared, but I’m here to tell you that there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Yeah, right,” an inmate said.
“Shut up,” Green said.
Blair Brando continued, “In the 2030s, crime was on the rise, and prisons were overcrowded.” The video cut to pictures of prisons packed with inmates. “At the time, prominent criminalists in the US and around the world believed that crime would be nonexistent if sociopathic personalities were eradicated from society.” The video showed Blair again. “After nearly one hundred years of research, most psychologists and doctors believed, and they still believe, that these sociopathic persons were and are incurable. Sociopathic personalities are natural predators, born without a conscience and without empathy. Policy makers were left with an impossible dilemma. Imprison people in overcrowded and inhumane conditions or release these antisocial personalities on the general public.
“Lucky for you a third option was invented. In 2036, Chinese scientists perfected the antisocial personality test with DNA sequencing and brain scans to accurately predict sociopathy in nearly 100 percent of tests.” The video showed scientists in a lab and the double helix chain of DNA.
“In 2042, China and Russia began ridding their society of these personalities, not by capital punishment or confinement but by sending them to island paradises in the South Pacific.” The video cut to images of palm trees and beaches and coconuts. “Also in 2042, Hurricane Zoey destroyed much of Puerto Rico, and, for the next two years, people were evacuated from the island state with the intention of creating the first US open-air penal colony. Between 2042 and 2044, the US followed China’s and Russia’s lead by testing incarcerated and newly arrested citizens for sociopathy.” The video showed brain scans and prisoners receiving buccal swabs.
“Today, the United States is crime-free with a much more humane justice system.” Blair Brando gestured to the beautiful beach around her. “This is your new home, where you’ll be free to make a life of your own. I won’t lie to you. It won’t be easy, but it’ll be far better than spending the rest of your life in prison. You’ll learn to live off the land, and you’ll commune with nature. You’ll make friends. You might even fall in love. In many ways you’ll live freer than most of us.”
For the next thirty minutes, Blair showed the inmates how to forage for fruits and vegetables. From the video, it appeared that Puerto Rico was a paradise with succulent fruit hanging from every tree. Summer wondered why they were trying so hard to sell this place. Because an island full of psychopaths must be hell on earth.
60
Naomi and Wall Street
The autonomous car parked near the intersection of Broadway and Wall Street. Naomi’s security team parked behind them. Just beyond the car window, her supporters marched on Wall Street in the sweltering heat. Naomi and her team would join the march near the finish line. The last thing Naomi needed was to look sweaty and disheveled for national TV.
“You ready?” Vernon asked, wearing shorts and a polo.
“I had hoped for a better turnout,” Naomi replied.
“It’s just so hot,” Katherine said. “It’s no reflection on you.”
“This is for the TV cameras anyway,” Vernon said.
The trio stepped from the vehicle. They were surrounded by her security team, walking with them as they headed for the marching protestors. Naomi and Vernon looked like a well-to-do couple out for a stroll. Naomi wore a lightweight dress, not wanting to sweat buckets and not wanting to show too much skin either.
As Naomi and her entourage merged with the march, protestors recognized Naomi and called her by name, often yelling things like, “We love you, Mrs. Sutton!” and “Our next president!” Naomi waved and smiled at her supporters, but the security team kept them at arm’s length.
After a short walk, Naomi stepped onto a stage erected specifically for the event. She stood at the podium, a stone’s throw from the New York Stock Exchange.
The crowd coalesced in front of the stage with sweaty faces and wet T-shirts. They held signs, like Greed ISN’T Good, Capitalism Is Killing America, Fair Share, Bailout = Bullshit, Tax the Rich, and Workers Unite! One person waved an old Soviet Union flag, with the hammer and sickle.
The TV crews were in position. The crowd was ready. At four o’clock on the dot, coinciding with the closing bell on Wall Street, Naomi said, “Thank you so much for braving the heat.” She took a deep breath. “For far too long Wall Street has enriched the few at the expense of the many. They’ve created a rigged system, built to funnel as much money from the general public as possible. And, even worse, our politicians have been bought and sold to look the other way as the graft continues unabated.”
A few spontaneous cheers erupted. Naomi smiled and put up her hand to quiet the crowd.
“This past week has been the worst in Wall Street history, with the stock market down 23 percent. Over the past few decades, Americans have lost their 401Ks and their pensions and their life savings, while the bankers and financiers make money on the way up and on the way down. It’s a rigged casino, and the house always wins.”
The crowd cheered, and Naomi waited for the cheering to dissipate.
“When I’m elected president—”
The crowd cheered again, even louder, and Naomi had to wait a little longer for the cheers to subside.
“When I’m elected president, pensions will be guaranteed by the US Treasury, and no more free rides will be given to Wall Street. You better believe they’ll pay their fair share.”