RoboNomics

Chapter 17

"Oh, yeah?" He's alert now, eager. "About your job?"

"Yeah." I tear off the band aid as quick as I dare. There's rumors, I emphasize. Nothing more. But unions may soon be obsolete. The most insidious type of rumor, the kind that devolves into theories of conspiracy: ones that seem plausible, next door neighbors to reality.

He listens placidly, and when I've talked myself out he picks up the bowl of soup and takes a tentative sip.

Then he puts it back down.

"I mean," he starts. "It's just a rumor, right?"

"I guess so. I just want us to be prepared."

He nods. He likes to be prepared. "But I wouldn't give up on your union just yet. They're not going anywhere."

I'm amazed by his sangfroid.

"Yeah, of course."

"So what's next?"

"I..." I haven't even considered the question. "I don't know. Just wait, I guess."

"Is that really all you can do?"

No, I think. I can help Chris.

"I guess," I say instead. "I haven't heard anything about this from the union."

"There's really nothing else?" He asks. "What about... I don't know, what about government support?"

"What, the government that wants to take out my union?"

"You can't know that for sure. And like, what, you've been paying for employment insurance for what? Your health?"

He has a point, and one I hadn't thought about. As I often do during our conversations, I immediately log into my I-yes. My AR workstation flickers as it materializes in my vision, and as fast as thought I look up employment insurance and its benefits, beyond the weekly payouts.

"They have employment centers. The government, I mean –"

"Ok, well, let's go do that," Austin says with finality.

"What, now?"

"When else?"

"Austin," I point to the darkness beyond our windows as my I-yes turn off.

"Right. Well, first thing tomorrow?"

I hate when he gets like this. All paternalistic, all decision, all dictation. As if I'm just going to go along with what he says, no questions asked. He should know me better than that, he should know by now it's not who I am. What happens if our life together goes on as we planned? Will he pick our house and tell me that I'll be happy with it? Will he tell me when it's time to have kids? Will he pick how many?

He's not always like this. Not even usually. But when he adopts that tone...it makes me want to dig in my heels. Despite my better judgement, I react with rebellion.

"Yeah, I don't know."

"You don't know... what? Do you want to be out of work, Andrea?"

"Look, we can talk about this tomorrow, okay? You're tired, I'm tired, and I don't want to say something we'd regret."

"What do you mean by that?" I can tell by his tone that I've stepped in it.

"I just... look, I know. I know what you're saying. I have to take advantage of everything I can. Every program I can. I just..."

"You just... what?"

"The last time we talked about this... the last time I took your advice, I wound up signing an illegal contract. One that even the union didn't want to defend. I just have to take a minute and think this through. I just need to sleep on it. I need to figure out what my next step and decide that... for myself."