2030

by Albert Brooks

  “Yeah, me. Did they catch the kids?”

  Kathy didn’t know the answer but she knew what to say. “Yeah. They got ’em.”

  “I can’t believe I got shot. I just can’t believe it. That’s something that never would have happened at GM.”

  “Don’t get nostalgic for GM, Dad, they were pricks. They were the reason you had to take this stupid job.” As soon as she said it, she realized it was mean. “It wasn’t stupid, it was just beneath you, that’s all.”

  “I know what you meant, honey. It was stupid. But it was work.” Her father yawned and let out a groan.

  “Why don’t you rest now. I’ll come see you tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, honey. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” She gave her dad a kiss.

  As Kathy walked out of the hospital she ran into Sue Norgen. At first Sue didn’t recognize her, but after a second she remembered. All Kathy said was, “I’m trying to get the money.”

  “I wasn’t going to ask you that. I was just going to ask how your father was doing.”

  “They’re one and the same, aren’t they?”

  “Kathy, I don’t make the laws, I try to enforce them on behalf of my employer.”

  “Oh, why didn’t you tell me that before?” Kathy said sarcastically.

  Sue nodded with that small smile people give when they have nothing more to say. As she walked away Kathy almost felt like apologizing, but she didn’t. She still had no idea what she was going to do. She almost felt jealous of her father because, at least for the time being, his brain was not consumed with this insurmountable debt.

  When Kathy parked her father’s car in the underground garage of the office building, she began to sweat. It wasn’t that hot; she was just anticipating the meeting that was about to take place.

  She had gotten the name of a lawyer who possibly could help out with the medical bills. Many people missed payments and still were able to recover some insurance money, or so she had been told, so it was certainly worth a meeting to see if this firm could intervene. They advertised that if they couldn’t, there would be no fee, so what was the downside? Kathy thought about waiting until her father was out of the hospital, but it would be horrible to be shot and come home to a $350,000 bill. Maybe she could make some headway here and actually give him some good news.

  She took the elevator to the sixth floor and walked down the hall to the office of Payton, Grace, and Osborne. These were medical lawyers who advertised heavily. She felt a little stupid going to someone whose commercial she had just watched, but she thought that if they had enough money to advertise, they must be good. And again, if they couldn’t help, it was free. She opened the door and the waiting room was empty. There was no live assistant. A face on a screen welcomed her and asked, “May I help you?”

  “I’m Kathy Bernard. I have an appointment.”

  “Yes, you do. Have a seat, please.”

  Kathy sat down and waited about fifteen minutes. She picked up one of two readers and scanned various news sources, not really paying much attention. It was all about the earthquake anyway, and she had seen enough of those terrible images. As she put down the device, the door opened. “Miss Bernard?”

  “Yes?”

  “Kevin Booker. Won’t you come in?”

  Kathy walked down the hall to Kevin Booker’s office. Kevin was a paralegal, not even a junior partner. Where’s the guy in the ad? Kevin’s office was small but comfortable.

  “Have a seat.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Some earthquake. Can you believe it?”

  “It was horrible.” This had now replaced the weather as the official conversation among strangers. It was how people would greet each other for months.

  “Too bad we can’t sue God, huh?” Kevin laughed at his joke. Kathy smiled and wished she were dead. “So tell me in a nutshell, how can we help you?”

  “My father lapsed in his health coverage, and he was shot on the job, and now they are saying that universal care will pay nothing and we are stuck with the bill.”

  Kevin looked genuinely concerned. “I’m very sorry. Is he all right?”

  “Well, they think he’ll live, but no one knows how much care he’ll need.”

  “What is the bill now?”

  “Three hundred and fifty thousand.”

  Kevin nodded. “It could be worse. We just had a client who owed three million and their son was still a mess. Let me ask you the most important question. How long did he go without paying the premium?”

  “Eighteen months.”

  Kevin let out a low whistle. The kind of whistle electricians give when they open a junction box and know without doing a thing it’s going to cost you twenty thousand dollars. “Kathy, I’ve got some bad news for you.”

  “Bad news?”

  “We can’t do anything if it’s over a year. If the premiums were not paid for a month or two, or maybe three at the most, we might be able to establish just cause, but a year and a half is too far over the limit. I’m sorry.”

  “That seems so unfair. He paid in all his life, he took this new job so he could continue to pay.”

  “Where did he get shot? What kind of job?”

  “He was a guard at the city college.”

  “Damn,” Kevin said. “Of all the employers, the city is protected the most from lawsuits. I’m sure his contract is rock solid in their favor.”

  “So what are my options?”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to borrow the money. Have you contacted any of the medical loan companies?”

  “Not yet. I was hoping to talk to you first.”

  “I’m going to forward you some names that are reputable. It’s not pretty out there, the interest rates are off the charts, but you will get the money, providing you have some assets. Does your father own his house?”

  “It’s heavily mortgaged.”

  “Well, you’re young and I’m sure there are ways to show these companies that you’re serious about paying back the money. Hopefully your father will recover completely and continue working.”

  “Right,” Kathy said, getting up. “Hopefully he’ll get better enough to get shot again.”

  “I’m sorry, Kathy. Believe me, I wish I could help.”

  “I know you do. Thank you.” Kathy started to leave the office.

  “Excuse me, Kathy, do you want to pay now or should we take this directly from your account?”

  “What?” Kathy couldn’t believe it. “The ad says if you can’t help it’s free.”

  “That’s only if we take a case and have no results. It does not include consultations.”

  “Well, how much is that?”

  “Normally a consultation is a thousand dollars, but seeing you’re in a bind, I will only charge you five hundred.” She wanted to shoot him, but all she could do was hand him her card. He ran it through the scanner and handed it back. “Believe me,” Kevin said, “no one gets charged this little. I could get in trouble.”

  “You’re a saint.” And Kathy left his office without actually saying, “Fuck you,” which was very, very difficult.

  Kathy called Brian and told him. He was furious. “You’re kidding!”

  “No. Five hundred for nothing.”

  “What a son of a bitch. Listen, try and forget it tonight. What are you doing later?”

  “Feeling sorry for myself.”

  “Come to a meeting.”

  “What kind of meeting?”

  “I’m not sure. A guy told me about this group that’s trying to do something about health care.”

  “I can’t sit through any more of this.”

  “It’s not what you think. It’s a lot of younger people who have some radical ideas about how to change things.”

  “What things?”

  “Exactly what you’re going through. Come on. Come with me.”

  “What time?”

  “It doesn’t start till nine. We’ll get something to eat first.”
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br />   Kathy was silent for a moment. Brian asked her again. “Come on, if it’s boring we’ll leave.”

  “Okay. Come get me at seven.”

  * * *

  Euthanasia was legal in only three countries, and the United States was not one of them. Several of the states had allowed medical intervention to end life if there was great suffering, but the federal government wouldn’t make it official, and there was always a chance someone could be prosecuted by the Justice Department, although the current administration was not active in that area. The matter went before the Supreme Court in 2020, but in a five–four decision they threw it back to the states, and it remained in the same gray area it always had. Certain states looked the other way and other states just banned it.

  Oregon was the most lenient and, for a time, so many people went there to end their lives that the tourist bureau seriously thought about using that as an incentive. One of the slogans they tossed around was “See Oregon before you die.” But better heads prevailed and they decided that advertising for a snuff job was a little crass. Nevada was also lenient, as were the states of Washington, Montana, North Dakota, North Carolina, and Florida. Florida out of necessity.

  California was still not quite sure. No one would question a doctor letting a patient go in peace if there was great suffering, but in 2023 a lawsuit was brought against a physician by the family of a seventy-five-year-old woman with Lou Gehrig’s disease. She was slowly losing all movement of her body and she begged the doctor to end it. He did, and three days later one of the big medical journals announced a possible cure. Even though the cure was years away and had not even started trials, the family sued. And won.

  A jury got very emotional and ignored the woman’s suffering. They sided with hope. The doctor’s insurance company had to pay twenty million dollars. That decision scared other physicians in California away from the practice of euthanasia, and this left a void in the state. Hence, Walter Masters.

  Walter Masters was a seventy-year-old science professor who watched his wife lie in a coma for six years before she died. Every doctor had said there was no chance of recovery, but she was not brain dead and no one would pull the plug. Masters was a mild-mannered man who lost it. Flipped out. And after that ordeal he decided he was put on the earth to keep other families from the same kind of interminable suffering, aside from draining all of their resources. The sad thing in his case was that for years he and his wife had talked about their feelings on this matter. He knew she didn’t want to be kept alive by machines, but she never wrote it down. He had always told his students that whenever something was important, write it down. And in this one case he didn’t follow that advice.

  So there he was, a modern-day Kevorkian, but friendlier looking. With a shock of gray hair and a small mustache, Masters looked distinguished and somewhat mad at the same time. And he became famous in the underground world of euthanasia.

  Masters took no chances. He would never end life if all the immediate family members were not on board, or if he sensed any ulterior motive, and he would not do the actual deed. He set up a drip system that would start five minutes after it was inserted. He insisted that the family be there and that they, or the patient if the patient was able, start the drip. Or they could stop it, but no one ever did. People didn’t go to that much trouble and then change their minds.

  Walter also said no occasionally. Once there was a man who was forty-five and a quadriplegic—a skier who took a wrong turn and fell down a mountain. No doctor would ever end a quadriplegic’s life if his brain was functioning, not even in Oregon. So the man called Masters and asked for a meeting.

  When Walter got there he was very understanding of the man’s condition, but told him that he thought the man could make something out of his life since his mind was intact and there were so many new devices that would allow him to get around. Walter said he would have considered it thirty years ago, but with all the mobility the man was offered, he refused to terminate. The man begged. “Please, my wife left me and took my children and moved out of state. I’m all alone. I want to die.”

  “I’m sorry,” Walter said. “I think with some counseling you can still lead a good life. And you don’t want your children to be without a father. I cannot help you, but I will give you the name of someone to talk to.”

  “I have no money for that.”

  So he treated the man to ten sessions with a psychologist. It was a wonderful gesture even though it came to nothing. The last he heard was that the man was still living and got just enough movement back that he could inject himself with heroin. You can’t win ’em all.

  Walter felt the strong shaking of the great quake even though he lived in Kern County, almost two hundred miles north of Los Angeles. But what really affected him was the number of people who contacted him after the disaster. So many people were severely injured that the first thing they or their family members did, after realizing that help was not coming, was try to put themselves or their loved ones out of their misery.

  Masters didn’t quite know what to do. He was receiving fifty contacts a day. Fifty. He felt sorry for all of these people, but he explained that even if he was willing, he couldn’t get to Los Angeles, as there was no way to travel there. No roads were open.

  People begged. One man asked if he could do it over the phone. Walter, who had to have a dark sense of humor to do what he did, actually thought about telling the man to sit in the bath and make toast. But all he really could do was take their information and tell them that when it was okay to travel to Los Angeles he would check in and see how they were doing. Most of them would not be alive by then.

  * * *

  Brad Miller still could not really comprehend the damage to his condominium complex. He actually was lucky. Being on the first floor, his ceiling came down, but the condo above did not fall on him. A closet, the one where he kept Lola, collapsed, and Brad was sad when he saw her head lying next to her body. Sure, she was a robot, but it was amazing how you became attached to these things. He actually laughed for a moment, thinking what it would look like to a potential burglar to see a headless woman sitting in the kitchen. Now, that would scare them even more.

  As he walked around the grounds, Brad saw several units, especially those on the second and third floors, that were leveled. Large solar panels and air-conditioning equipment on the roof that weighed thousands of pounds had fallen through the ceilings into the top-floor apartments.

  At night Brad would sit outside on the artificial lawn with some of the other residents who remained, and they compared stories of who they knew was all right and who was not. Brad had not been able to contact Herb or Jack and had no idea if they were even alive. A neighbor he had a small crush on was nowhere to be found. Another man who lived next door had been killed in his sleep.

  The scary thing was that all over Southern California, as people were assessing the extraordinary damage, they understood that no one was coming to help them anytime soon. There was just too much devastation. So people helped one another the best they could. If someone still had a room, they would take in an injured person and try to keep him alive. If people had extra food, they would share it. And everyone was on the lookout for looters, who, until the National Guard was fully in position, simply ran wild. The residents who had weapons were now considered the smart ones.

  Brad had never bought a rifle, although he had been tempted to when the new laser guns were available for home sale. These fired a beam of light that would burn a hole in someone’s skin from fifty yards. Brad’s friend Herb had bought one but Brad said, “I’ve got a security guard right next to my place. Let him handle the bad guys.”

  When the security shack was leveled, the guard just ran away. Brad hoped he at least shot someone on the way out.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Brian and Kathy left the Charge N’ Eat and went to the meeting, which neither of them knew anything about.

  A new infrastructure had been built up around the electric
car. One of the things that really caught on was the modern-day drive-in, known as the Charge N’ Eat. Gasoline could only be sold by the oil companies, but electricity could be sold by anyone, and it was. Gasoline stations had done everything they could over the years to give people something else besides gas—the market, the fast food, the arcade, lottery tickets, anything that could fit—but no one ever wanted to eat in their car sitting in a gas station. Electricity was a different animal.

  The first Charge N’ Eat opened in 2016 in Phoenix and was an instant hit. As their cars were charging, customers could order food, and cute roller-skating girls delivered it. It was a throwback to the very first drive-in restaurants that had all but disappeared, but this time around it caught on big.

  If people needed to get going in a hurry, they could charge their cars with the ultrafast electrical pumps, but that cost more, like premium gas. So most people opted for the cheaper thirty-minute slow charge, and they had to have something to do while they waited. Why not munch burgers and fries? It was a perfect fit. The people who came up with the Charge N’ Eat also tried to bring back drive-in movies, but that idea went nowhere.

  “I think we’re lost,” Kathy said.

  “Who gets lost anymore? The car knows where we are.”

  “Screw the car; have you ever been anywhere near here before?”

  Brian looked out the window. It was farmland that seemed to grow nothing. All of a sudden his navigation voice told him he was on private roads and it could no longer confirm his location. “Shit.”

  “I told you.”

  “She never gets lost.”

  “What are we looking for?”

  “A church. Or something that looks like a church. Supposedly the town is very small.”

  At that moment the navigation came back to life and informed him he had three miles to go. “See!” Brian was so proud of his car. “She never gets lost.”

  After another ten minutes they drove through a one-stoplight town and, sure enough, there was a building that looked like a church, but it also looked as if no one had gone there for years. It had a stained-glass window that was broken and boarded up. Kathy had never seen that before. She’d always assumed that stained glass was never left broken, that that would be almost sacrilegious, but obviously she was wrong. There were a few cars parked outside, along with several motorcycles. Kathy was thoroughly confused.