SiSU: - Homeland - Cory Doctorow

Homeland
table and went to the bathroom, came back a few minutes later. None of us said anything
while he was gone, and the silence continued after he got back, his face freshly washed
and still slightly damp.
He ate a few mouthfuls and said, quietly, “Amazing how a society can just slide into the
crapper, huh?”
Mom gave a brittle laugh. “I don't think it's as bad as all that, Drew.”
He put his fork down and chewed and chewed and chewed at his food, chewed like he was
angry at it. The words that came out after he swallowed had a choked, tight feel. “Isn't it?
There were three more foreclosures on our street today, Lillian. Today. And as for slave
labor, just think about how much of what we own is stamped `Made in China,' and how
much of our `Made in the USA' came out of a prison somewhere.”
“Drew --” Mom said.
“Marcus, Ange, I'm very sorry,” he said.
“It's okay Dad,” I began.
“No, I mean I'm sorry that you've inherited such a miserable, collapsing old country. A
place where rich bankers own everything, where you've got to be grateful for a part-time
job with no benefits and no retirement plan, where the most health insurance you can afford
is being careful and hoping you don't get sick, where --”
He clamped his lips shut and looked away. I'd seen a bill on Mom's desk from a health
insurance company warning us that we'd lose our coverage if we didn't make a payment.
I'd tried not to think too hard about it.
“It's okay, Dad,” I said again. His skin had gone pale beneath his beard, and it made the
wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and in his neck stand out. He looked twenty years older
than he had at the start of dinner.
“Cheer up, Drew,” Mom said. “Honestly, it could be much worse. There's plenty who'd be
grateful for our problems. Let's have a glass of wine and watch The Daily Show, all right?
I PVRed it.” When my parents got rid of their cable box, I'd built them a cheapie PVR using
MythTV and an old PC. It only worked with the few HD broadcast channels that aired in
San Francisco, but it automatically converted the files so they could play on our phones
and laptops, and snipped out all the commercials.
Dad looked down and didn't say anything.
“Come on, Ange,” I said. We were pretty much through with dinner anyway. And there
were darknet docs to plow through.
-..-
Mysterious Galaxy: San Diego and Rendondo Beach, CA
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