The Year of the Flood (MaddAddam 2)

"Yes," he said. "As a matter of fact, I would."

29

The next day we went to pick up Bernice from the Buenavista Condos as usual. I think we were both feeling ashamed of ourselves because of what we'd done the day before -- at least I was. But when we knocked on the door and said, "Knock, knock," Bernice didn't say, "Who's there?" She said nothing.

"It's Gang," Amanda called. "Gang grene!" Still nothing. I could almost feel her silence.

"Come on, Bernice," I said. "Open the door. It's us."

The door opened, but it wasn't Bernice. It was Veena. She was looking right at us, and she didn't seem in any way Fallow. "Go away," she said. Then she shut the door.

We looked at each other. I had a very bad feeling. What if we'd done some kind of permanent damage to Bernice, with our story about Burt and Nuala? What if it wasn't even true? It had just been a joke, at first. But it didn't seem like a joke any more.

Any other Saint Euell's Week we'd have gone to the Heritage Park to look for mushrooms with Pilar and Toby. It was exciting to go there because you never knew what you'd see. There'd be pleebland families having cookouts and family fights, and we'd hold our noses to avoid the stink of frizzling meat; there'd be couples thrashing around in the bushes, or homeless people drinking from bottles or snoring under the trees, or tangle-haired crazies talking to themselves or shouting, or druggies shooting up. If we got down as far as the beach, there might be girls in bikinis lying in the sun, and Shackie and Croze might say, Skin cancer to them, to get their attention.

Or there could be some CorpSeCorps guys on public-service patrol telling people to put their trash in the containers provided, though really -- said Amanda -- they were looking for small dealers doing business without cutting their mob friends in. Then you might hear the hot zipzipzip of a spraygun and some screams. Offering violence, they'd say to the bystanders as they dragged the guy away.

But our Heritage Park trip was cancelled that day because of Pilar being ill. So instead we had Wild Botanicals with Burt the Knob, in the vacant lot behind Scales and Tails.

We had our slates and chalk because we always drew the Wild Botanicals to help us memorize them. Then we'd wipe off our drawings, and the plant would be in our heads. There's nothing like drawing a thing to make you really see it, Burt would say.

Burt hunted around the vacant lot, picked something, held it up for us to see. "Portulaca oler

acea," he said. "Common name, Purslane. Found cultivated and in the wild. Prefers disturbed earth. Notice the red stem, the alternate leaves. A good source of omega 3s." He paused, frowned at us. "Half of you aren't looking and the other half aren't drawing," he said. "This could save your lives! We're talking about sustenance here. Sustenance. What is sustenance?"

Blank stares, silence. "Sustenance," said the Knob, "is what sustains a person's body. It's food. Food! Where does food come from? Class?"

We recited together: "All food comes from the Earth."

"Right!" said Burt. "The Earth! And then most people buy it from the supermarkette. What would happen if suddenly there were no more supermarkettes? Shackleton?"

"Grow it on the roof," said Shackie.

"Suppose there weren't any roofs," said the Knob, beginning to go pink in the face. "Where would you get it then?" Blank stares again. "You'd forage," said the Knob. "Crozier, what do we mean by foraging?"

"Finding stuff," said Croze. "Stuff you don't pay for. Like, stealing." We laughed.

The Knob ignored this. "And where would you look for this stuff? Quill?"

"At the mallway?" said Quill. "In behind, like. Where they throw stuff out, like, old bottles, and ..." He was kind of dim, Quill, but also he was acting dim. The boys did that to make the Knob lose it.

"No, no!" the Knob shouted. "There won't be anyone to throw stuff out! You've never been outside this pleeb, have you? You've never seen a desert, you've never been in a famine! When the Waterless Flood hits, even if you personally last it out you'll starve. Why? Because you haven't been paying any attention! Why do I waste my time on you?" Every time the Knob took a class, he'd tip over some invisible edge and start yelling.

"Well then," he said, winding down. "What is this plant? Purslane. What can you do with it? Eat it. Now then, keep on drawing. Purslane! Notice the oval shape of those leaves! Notice their shininess! Look at the stem! Memorize it!"

I was thinking, It can't be true. I didn't see how anyone -- even Wet Witch Nuala -- could do sex with Burt the Knob. He was so bald and sweaty. "Cretins," he was muttering to himself. "Why do I bother?"

Then he went very still. He was looking at something behind us. We turned around: Veena was standing there, beside the gap in the fence. She must have squeezed through. She was still in her slippers; her yellow baby blanket was draped over her head like a shawl. Beside her was Bernice.

They just stood there. They didn't move. Then two CorpSeMen came through the fence as well. They were Combat, in their shimmering grey suits that made them look like a mirage. They had their sprayguns out. I felt all the blood drain out of my face; I thought I was going to throw up.

"What's wrong?" shouted Burt.

"Freeze!" said one of the CorpSeMen. His voice was very loud because of the mike in his helmet. They moved forward.

"Stay back," Burt said to us. He looked as if he'd been tasered.

"Come with us, sir," said the first CorpSeMan when they'd reached us.