Atlas Read Free Page A

was the best available. I wasn't sure how much it helped, because I still had a raging headache.
    I took a long sip of my Tijuana cerveza . "Doesn't matter."
    "You going freelance again?" Alejandro said, wiping his hands on his duster. "You know you'll have to seek out clients from scratch. The ones you got through Mito? They're untouchable, if you know what I'm saying."
    "I know." Mito would do some pretty nasty things to me if I tried to poach his clients. No, if I wanted Dissuader work, I'd have to post online. That was the only way, really, other than going door-to-door. Which flat-out didn't work, and was a good way to get shot, actually.
    "You still want out of this country," Alejandro said. It was a statement, not a question.
    "Yeah." I took another sip. "I'm done. I've had it with this place. What happened today only reinforced that. Getting robbed, then fired. I mean look where we live, Alejandro. Take a good, long look. This isn't a good country."
    "Maybe the robbery was a sign from above, you know?" Alejandro said. "That you shouldn't be trying to leave."
    "Don't give me that."
    It was Alejandro's turn to take a long swallow of beer, though he bypassed his glass and drank straight from the pitcher. Classy. "You know, despite all its flaws, the people are happy here. You could be too, if you just let go. Get a nice mamacita , a few kids. Maybe try a different line of work."
    "That wouldn't make me happy, Alejandro. It would distract me, sure, make me forget about my unhappiness, but in the end I'd still want to leave."
    "Rade, the UC isn't the utopia you think it is. Those vids on the Net? All propaganda. Everyone knows that. They make the United Countries look like heaven, make us want to migrate, then as soon as we cross the border, bam! They force us into the army. Courtesy of the EEI Act."
    The Enforced Enlistment of Immigrants and Illegals Act.
    Alejandro whistled at the bartender and waved our nearly-empty pitcher. "José, another." Alejandro wasn't wearing his hat tonight, and he had his double collar down so that his oval face was completely visible. He had a closely-trimmed mustache and beard that nicely matched his thick brows. Didn't help his haunted eyes, though.
    I emptied my glass and wiped my lips. "What if I like the EEI Act? What if I want to be drafted into the UC army?"
    Alejandro nearly choked on the last bit of beer in the pitcher. "Most people sneak across the border because they want to live in the UC. Not die for it, you know?"
    "Just listen to me for a sec. Joining the UC army isn't so different from what I'm doing now. I'd still get beat up for other people, except I'd get to wear a fancy uniform while doing it. And whenever I lost my gun, I'd get a new one free of charge, no questions asked. I'd get to see the world, and potentially the galaxy. Plus I'd be paid a heck of a lot more."
    "Yeah, and get shot at," Alejandro deadpanned.
    "As I said, not so different from here. Look. I'm twenty-two years old. I've been in this country far too long. I appreciate everything you've done for me, I really do, but you know what? I'm going to walk all the way to the border if I have to. I've had it with this place."
    Alejandro started tapping his fingers against the side of the pitcher. A nervous habit of his. "You really mean that don't you?"
    "I do."
    He took another swallow, finishing the pitcher. He stared into the empty container. "I might have... I might have paid someone to rob you this morning."
    I stood up. "You what ?" My pounding headache seemed to worsen.
    He couldn't meet my eye. "I'm sorry, Rade. I didn't want you to go. I was afraid. Caramba . I didn't know how important it was to you."
    I held up my thumb and forefinger. "Alejandro, I'm this close from starting a bar fight with you."
    "I'll pay the Border Hoppers so you can go," he said softly.
    "You'll what?" I wasn't sure I'd heard right.
    "I'll pay the Border Hoppers. Because that's how we do it. I did you a wrong, and now I'm making