“Can we buy you some lunch at the cafeteria?” Mrs. Newman asked.
“I’d like that.” Charity didn’t say much more because Callum asked questions about family, neighbors, and friends.
The group got their food and found a table in the corner of the room. It was mostly empty since the lunch hour hadn’t started.
Charity told the Newmans what tests her mother had run—ones for parasites and infections. Mr. Newman politely entered the information on his phone, but he too had to know that the doctors would run all of the tests again.
Charity wasn’t sure how to segue into asking the Newmans if they’d ever consider giving up their lives for an unknown city ina breakaway state, so she didn’t say much through lunch except for the times when Callum talked about being a harvester.
“You ought to take up my parents’ offer of getting some training,” he told Charity. “Hauling crops around is nearly as bad as slavery, except everyone is a lot nicer and the food is way better.” He gave the remainder of his sandwich a forlorn look. “I’m going to miss some of the food, actually. Homemade bread is way better than the stuff they sell here.”
“Callum is a hard worker,” Charity said. “Plus, he fixed my father’s laptop, and my phone has never worked better. I might have enough memory on it now to download some new books. We’re glad he found his family, but we’re sorry to see him go.”
Mrs. Newman gave Callum a side hug, and her lips trembled with emotion. “He’s always been…” Whatever she meant to say wavered, lost under the weight of her feelings.
Charity ought to leave the family alone so they could enjoy their reunion in private.
Here went nothing. “I can tell the two of you are exceptional parents because you raised him so well. I wouldn’t normally say this to people I hardly know…” This was especially true since they sat in a hospital cafeteria where they might be recorded. She would have to keep her offer vague. “My father and I know we could never tempt you with a job of a harvester, but my father plans to be in politics someday. He’s always looking for good people to be on his team. He wanted me to talk to you about that.”
She’d been too vague. The Newmans looked at her in confusion. “What sort of team?” Mr. Newman asked.
“A team of people who are upstanding, intelligent, and hard workers. There’s a benefit to a co-op, to people who work together for the common good. We can accomplish so much more than individuals working by themselves. My father would someday like to take that idea and employ it in a bigger model,a city full of people working for the good of the community.” She wouldn’t admit that New Salem already existed until they showed interest.
The Newmans exchanged a glance, more worried than interested. They were smart enough to read the subtext. Building a city of cooperative people wasn’t something the government would approve of.
“Where would the city be?” Mrs. Newman asked, “And what would people there be doing?”
Charity shrugged as though she hadn’t given that part of the issue much thought. “It doesn’t matter where it is as long as the people work together.”
Mr. Newman stirred his coffee, an unspoken sigh on his lips. “Countries tried that sort of thing at different times in history.From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs. It’s a nice theory that always goes horribly when implemented.”
Communism. Charity knew all about why it failed. Her father had thoroughly studied its problems in order to avoid them. “Communism took away private property and incentives for hard work. That system became just another way for corrupt men to grab political power. We’re not aiming for that. Think of this city as cooperative democracy.”
Mr. Newman took a sip of his drink. “Russia claimed to be a democracy. As they say, it doesn’t matter who votes. It only matters who counts the votes.”
Charity smiled. “I knew Callum’s parents would be smart. But it’s a lot harder to rig an election in a city where most people know each other.”
Callum lowered his voice. “Does the city already exist?”
She couldn’t answer that question until she was sure of them. They could report her. “Would it make a difference if it did?”
Mr. Newman set his coffee cup down. “It would make a difference to the government.”
“You’re right,” Charity said. “And that’s why I’m only finding out your feelings in a theoretical sort of way. How happy are you with the government that didn’t protect your son, didn’t do anything to find and retrieve him from slavery, and wouldn’t even let you retain your old phone numbers? Is that the type of system you want to live under?”
Callum let out a slow whistle. “You know the government is going to retake the breakaway states, don’t you? All the cities there will end up under government control eventually.”
“Maybe,” Charity said. “Maybe not.”
Callum leaned toward her, his gaze intense. “You saved my life. I don’t want to see you throw away yours.”
She apparently wasn’t very good at convincing people to join their cause. Her father really should’ve been the one to come. “We’re not throwing our lives away. We’re trying to make them better. Ours and other people’s lives.”
Callum shook his head. “I should’ve known something was going on with your co-op. You all were too happy, too nice, and too smart to just be harvesters.”
Charity wasn’t sure how to respond to that allegation.Thank youorThat’s insulting—to both harvesters and other happy, nice, smart people. She opened and shut her mouth.
Callum’s parents exchanged another glance. “The government has its problems,” Mr. Newman said, “but the one thing I know with certainty is that I don’t want to get on their bad side.”