Julia pursed her lips. “Maybe they should start using it again. Maybe with all the so-called progress we’ve made over the last century, we’ve also progressed away from some basic concepts. Ones we should never have forgotten.”
Lisa nodded. “Hmmm. Maybe.” And maybe it’s a concept we should resurrect. She turned toward the phantom Earth again. It suddenly seemed smaller, and simpler, than it had before. She put her hands out, and watched them vanish in the bluish haze.
Julia was stepping backwards, as though to leave. “Well,” she said, “I think we know how to reach each other, if anything comes up. Is—there anything else you need, Ms. Jiang?”
Without turning, Lisa answered, “I could use a job. I’m a teacher, you know.”
Sure. Just look where that has gotten you!
She didn’t quite hear Julia’s reply, but it was something along the lines of, “I’ll see what I can do for you.” When she looked again, she was alone.
“…Of Reason has returned, with another rollicking, frolicking session of UN follies. Only we’re not having any fun at all; it’s hard to laugh while the knife is sliding in between your shoulder blades. Not easy at all. But they’re trying, grant them that. They’re working our funny bones over as hard as they can.
“Serious, folks. I mean, what else could they possibly be trying to do, by telling us they’re keeping the shimps in protective custody? Repeat after me: pro-tec-tive cus-to-dy. Sounds like a secret mantra. I think I’ll try it next time I’m at the dentist’s, instead of laughing gas. Imagine: all those poor shimps having to be protected from the likes of us? I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel real dangerous.
“But never mind my delusions. The net is open for your input. I want to hear the roars from all you tigers out there… wait a moment, let me get my whip first… yes sir, you’re speaking to Reed Ready and every mind on the planet. What’ve you got to say?”
“Allison.”
“Uhh—sure. Well thank you very much, brother. And speaking of brothers—”
“Do you wish to return the call, Ms. Jiang?”
Lisa sighed heavily. It was the third legitimate interview request this morning. Add to that the less than legitimate requests, not to mention the inquiries into her political ambitions, the bizarre ramblings whose point was utterly beyond her, the straightforward crank calls and, last but not least, the threats to life and limb, and she decided that hell must consist of being asked that question over and over again.
“No, not now. Hold it in the queue, with the others.”
Her phone icon was flashing again even as she answered.
“News. The Strike. The UN sanctions.”
The smiling newscaster told her nothing new, nothing she didn’t already know. God’s in His heaven; all’s right with the world. Julia was right. It wasn’t going to be that easy.
“How about the shimp detainees?”
“The government believes it would not be wise at this time to release the terrestrial Pan population from protection. However, it is considering permitting limited contact at some point in the near future. Stay linked for details.”
Lisa wanted to cry out for joy. No, not easy. But possible.
“Do you wish to return the call, Ms. Jiang?”
“No. Put it in the queue. Open my mail. I want to read Julia L’uboleng’s letter.”
Dear Ms. Jiang:
It is my pleasure to extend to you the opportunity to return to the position you previously held in our employ, with the same status and salary. This opportunity is effective immediately. If you do not find this offer satisfactory, we will be happy to negotiate another position more in agreement with your abilities and interests. Please do not hesitate to contact me, at your earliest convenience. Thank you.
She went into the kitchen, and made tea. Angry dragons flared on the sides of the cup.
EDITOR’S NOTE: This is a sequel to “Never Forget,” which appeared in our February 1992 issue.