Page 53 of A Better World

“It’s Hollow,” Rachel said, eyes swollen with exhaustion. “They think it’s evil magic.” She’d just flown in from Beijing. It could be eight in the morning, or eight at night. She was probably so turned around, it made no difference.

“Not to press a point, but any chance we can back off from the Hollow stuff, at least until we gain their trust?” Linda asked.

“Where Caesar goes, Rome follows,” Anouk answered.

“Right,” Linda said. “You’re the boss.”

Meeting adjourned, they packed up and joined the large front table for dinner. This was composed of a rotating group of the most important people in PV, most of whom were on BW’s board. The waiters came often, and the food was preselected. First course, already being served, was seared sea anemone.

Linda’d gotten to know Lloyd Bennett, the handsome man from the crowning. She found him charming. What she liked most about him was that he often sat next to shy Colette Lust, Jack’s wife, and included her in conversation. Ever consistent, Jack stone-faced everybody. He also had the bad habit of looking Linda’s figure up and down whenever they met, and seeming, every time, unimpressed.

The evening passed fast. Anouk announced that her next poetry collection was about epigenetic trauma:It’s such a sad world out there, so full of people on the outside whose genes have accumulated so much damage. People blame chemicals for their cancers and asthma, but it’s really stress from abuse and bad parenting. I want to honor their unavoidable suffering, and also honor the pure genes of Plymouth Valley, which will lead the way to the future.

Everybody paused at this pronouncement, most in horror. Then they all made prayer hands, even as they looked at one another with wry, disapproving expressions, and it occurred to Linda that prayer hands could be sarcastic.

Before the night ended, Russell’s boss, Heinrich, gave him a compliment:You handle your team very well. They’re not an easy group, especially Nanny.

Russell beamed.

Linda was sitting across from Russell, eating toast. He’d been tossing half the night. “That judge is gonna give you the extension,” she said.

The bespoke number from the Fabric Collective hadn’t yet arrived,and in the current suit he’d brought from home, he looked a little like an undertaker. It had somehow shrunk, hugging his upper wrists. He did not seem aware of this, and she had no desire to tell him. This was his only good suit. He couldn’t very well show up to virtual court in bright blue Omnium.

Today, the judge would give their decision on whether to postpone the trial.

“You never know,” he said. “They gave me every possible file. But there’s still some stuff that doesn’t add up.”

“Like what?” she asked.

He raised his eyes. “I don’t know! That’s why it doesn’t add up!”

Daniella, Anouk, Rachel, and even Chernin had assured her that he’d get the extension. After work and feeding the kids that night, she dressed in something slinky (and a little lumpy) for the occasion, and ordered a spanakopita, his favorite.

The clock ticked past eight and into nine. She texted a few times and called twice.All good!he wrote back, which wasn’t an answer, but okay. At midnight, she peeled the phyllo from the top of the dish, having eaten it layer by layer, so by the end it looked like an open-faced spinach melt. An hour after that, she left it there, cold and gluey, and went to bed.

She woke a few hours later when he flicked the bright overhead light. His tie hung loose around his neck, his jacket gone. She’d later find out they took it from him, cut it to pieces. He’d helped. This had been very funny, apparently. They’d all laughed at his cheap suit, then destroyed the cheap suit.

He swayed on his feet.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I got the extension!” he said. “They took me out to Sirin’s. They made a big deal about it. They were all there! Everybody from my office!”

“Wow! How fun!” she said. She tried not to show her hurt. This was his big moment. He could celebrate it however he pleased. Butit felt very bad that he hadn’t wanted to celebrate it with her, and it reminded her of their life back in Kings.

When she met him, he’d been getting two PhDs at the same time. One in toxicology, the other in statistics. She’d liked that about him. It had made her feel safe. In a world chock-full of people who’d given up, that kind of industry had smacked of optimism.

But after the kids came along, he went into a panicked overdrive, coming home after she fell asleep, going back out again before anyone in the house woke up. This went on for years. When she complained, he promised that it would be worth it. One day they’d have a nice house in Jersey.

But this apartment is fine, she told him.What we have now is fine.

With all these cuts and reorganizations, it might not last, he told her.The only way to keep what we have is to get so far ahead they can’t catch us.

He’d deserved the position of department head at the EPA. He’d deserved all the salary increases he’d asked for. But though they’d always been happy to give him more work and responsibility, he’d never gotten those promotions or raises. It had never made sense to her. He hadn’t joked around with his staff or invited them for dinner. He’d never been a social animal, but he was perfectly nice. Funny, with a biting sense of humor once he loosened up. What more had those people wanted from him?

“They told me I’m on the right track,” he now said, then softer: “They answered a lot of questions I’ve been having about these Omnium studies.”

“Were you right? Was there something they weren’t telling you?”

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