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Leo was still confused by the whirlwind enthusiasm of Boston as the train slowed down to enter Albany. It was scheduled as a one-hour stopover. The first thing that struck him was the smell. It was worse than anything he could remember from the difficult times. It was decay, rot.
He looked ahead into the darkness for the reception, but there was none. Only darkness. His flat car shuddered to a halt, and there was no one there to greet him.
Tentatively, Leo dismounted onto the rocks and cinders beside the track and began to walk. With no light, he had to stay close to the train just to be oriented. After a short period, he heard a few voices and, finally, could see a small group gathered by one of the sealed boxcars.
“Well, here comes the candidate,” he thought as he drew in his breath and tried to approach them with some degree of confidence. “Hi, I’m Leo Torres,” he began. And that is as far as he got. The furtive group of men dropped whatever they were carrying and disappeared. They were running away from Leo Torres!
On closer inspection, Leo could see that they had been carrying nothing but large stones. It took him some time to realize that they had been planning to break into the boxcar. He had interrupted thieves!
“I’m Leo Torres,” he shouted into the blackness. But there was no response. He walked the length of the train, on both sides, other than the train crew, there was no one. The brakeman told Leo, “I don’t think there’s much here.”
In a way, Leo was relieved. He wasn’t going to have to fake anything here. He sat in the open air beside his container and stared into the darkness. He couldn’t think of any way to advance his election campaign, so he just waited until, at last, the racket in every coupling told him that the train was underway again. With short, wobbly steps, he crossed the moving flatcar and returned to his container/office.
Then the surprise came: there was a girl there. She was very young, only partly dressed, and, on Leo’s closer look, only partly clean.
“What do you want?” he said in a tone that was more like an accusation.
“I want whatever you want,” came her weary voice, “Only just don’t put me off of this train.”
Leo was thinking fast. He walked past her to his desk and switched on his computer. “I can’t put you off the damned train. It’s already moving.” The computer screen lit up and then quickly showed himself, Leo, sitting down and looking at his watch. He spoke directly to the machine, “This is Leo Torres. It is exactly 8:02 as we depart Albany, New York. I just found an intruder in my compartment. I do not know her, and I did not invite her. I just this minute found her here.”
The list of people interacting with Leo populated suddenly, and he was talking to dozens of on-line participants. A man’s face popped up on the screen and said, “Who’s your girlfriend, Torres?”
“As I said, I have no idea who she is. I just found her in my compartment when I got back from walking around the train in Albany, New York. You are all my witnesses.” He turned to the girl: “Come here where they can see you.” She dropped to her knees beside Leo and her face appeared beside his on the screen.
“Have I ever seen you before?” he demanded.
“Not till just now.”
His voice may have been harsher than was appropriate in talking to someone so young, but he continued: “What is your name? Where are you from?”
“They call me Judy,” came the tired little voice. “I come from right back there, Albany.” Then she added, “All I want is a ride out of there.”
“This is Leo Torres,” he began again. “I am a candidate for the world planning conference. I don’t know this girl, you heard her say it. She doesn’t know me. I have no idea why she crawled into my container while I was walking around. I’m asking you, all of you, to keep track of the time and witness that I never touched this girl and won’t. I can’t throw her off the train because it’s already moving and she’d get hurt or killed. All I can do is let her stay here, but I want every one of you to keep looking at her and at me so that everybody will know that nothing untoward has happened, or will happen.
‘I don’t mind saying that I don’t know a lot about being a candidate. Albany was only my second campaign stop. But I do know that young girls destroy campaigns, whether they intended to or not, so let’s sit together until the next stop. Stay with me.”
A younger man’s face popped up and said, “Commissioner Torres, This is Les Frailey. I’m assigned to your campaign. Why haven’t you checked in?”
“Didn’t know I was supposed to.”
“You need to check in at least after every stop. Did you see Boston?”
“Yes, I guess I did. At least, Boston saw me. There was a big enthusiastic crowd there. They seemed really friendly, but I didn’t get a chance to say much. They didn’t really want a speech from me.”
Frailey: “That checks with what we have been hearing. The revolution is an overwhelming success in Boston. Everybody is on board. They probably think it’s like that everywhere and that your visit was just routine. Now, what about Albany?”
“There was nobody in Albany. Smells like a slaughterhouse. Or worse. Smells like a slaughterhouse that’s been interrupted for a while. Quite a while. I only saw a handful of men, and I think they were some kind of thieves trying to break into a boxcar. They ran when they saw me.
‘Frailey, do you see my little passenger problem here?”
Frailey: “Yes. I think you’re handling that very well. Just keep her and yourself on the webcam. While she’s there, we might as well try to get a little bit of intel about Albany. Madam, what’s your name?”
“I said it was Judy.”
Frailey: “OK Judy, what were you doing in Albany?”
“Scrounging. That’s all anybody does in Albany. Except for dying. Dying is very popular.”
Frailey: “Where were you living?”
“I wasn’t living anywhere. I was hiding in the old tunnels around the university. There aren’t many bodies there. Most of the college crowd left early for Canada, even before the rest of the city did.”
Frailey: “Where are your parents?”
“Canada, I guess. I guess I hope so anyway, because most of the people that stayed in Albany died of diseases. Lately, as the canned goods got harder and harder to find, they started dying of starvation.”
Frailey: “There was no revolutionary committee there? Nobody arranged to get food in?”
“If they did, somebody else got it, not me.”
Torres: “Judy stowed away in my little container. I guess you wanted to get somewhere else. Is there any particular destination?”
“If things are better in Canada, I’d probably want to go there. But all I’ve heard is that everything went to hell everywhere, Canada too. I just want to get out of Albany. Everybody that isn’t already dead or crazy wants out of Albany. Are you going to let me stay on this train?”
Torres: “I don’t think we have any choice now. We should be in Lansing, Michigan in a few hours. I think you’ll probably find it better. Most areas had revolutionary groups that found ways to get through the difficult times. They probably have food and maybe even lodgings.”
“You got any food here?”
Torres: “If you’ll stay here and stay on camera, I’ll get you some nuggets.”
Frailey: “I’m going to ask Judy some more questions and make a report. They should be able to get a militia squad out there, maybe on the next train. Now Judy, tell me about how many people you would see in Albany on a typical day?”
Judy: “I tried not to see anybody. If they didn’t kill you outright, or rape you, they’d probably give you some awful disease. Or maybe they’d do all of those things, but as far as I know, they never did anything good.”
Frailey: “But how many would you see?”
Judy: “Maybe 4 or 5 on some days. Nearly all men. All of them up to no good.”
Frailey: “Was it the same 4 or 5?”
Judy: “Naw. If I saw one of those man gangs, I went somewhere else the next time. I don’t think I ever saw anybody twice.”
Frailey: “So I’m going to estimate that there are only a few hundred people, nearly all men, still alive in Albany. Does that sound right?”
“Good a guess as any.”
Torres returned with a small bag full of People Chow, and Judy fell on it like a ravaging animal. Both of them were on screen. The population of onlookers was now more than could be shown on the screen. Leo relaxed a little.
Frailey: “For the benefit of you who just joined, we’re talking with candidate Leo Torres and Judy, a young woman who stowed away in his office on the train leaving Albany, New York, just a few minutes ago. We’re asking you to stay on line and witness that Leo Torres does not know this girl. He did not invite her, and all he’s done with her is give her some food and try to keep her on camera so you will know that there’s nothing going on between them.”
A gray-haired man’s face popped up. “Miss Judy, how long have you known Leo Torres?”
Torres: “I just told you, I don’t know her at all.”
The questioner had a professional air, “Why don’t you let Miss Judy answer for herself?”
Leo sat back.
Judy: “If Leo Torres is the man sitting next to me, then I guess I’ve known him about 20 minutes. Maybe fifteen. I don’t know you at all.”
He went on: “What have you and Leo Torres done together, and what do you intend to do?”
Judy: “We haven’t done anything. I guess he doesn’t plan to do anything. As for what we intended, he didn’t intend anything as far as I know. What I intended was to get a ride on this train, one way or another.”
Again: “Were you trading sex for a ride? Is that what you did? Or is that what you intended?”
Frailey interceded: “Enough of that. Judy, you don’t have to answer this guy. In fact, nobody does. --For the benefit of you who just joined, we’re talking with candidate Leo Torres and Judy, a young woman who stowed away in his office on the train leaving Albany, New York, just a few minutes ago. We’re asking you to stay on line and witness that Leo Torres does not know this girl. He did not invite her, and all he’s done with her is give her some food and try to keep her on camera so you will know that there’s nothing going on between them.”
Just about the same thing went on, with Frailey making his announcement every few minutes, all the way to Lansing.