The Underground Read Free Page B

it.”
      “You’re damn right I would have!!” Queen Amanda’s voice rose. “Why the hell do you want to be there?”
    “I was curious to see how the other half lived,” she said, trying to shut her mother up. Shayla thought that since Cambridge, Massachusetts was known to be liberal, it seemed like a good testing ground for making small changes to improve male worker conditions. Of course, she knew better than to say that to her mother.  
    But it was the truth, or at least part of the truth. Ultimately, Shayla had bigger changes in mind. Much bigger.
    “You can do anything you want… I’ll find something better for you, either in industry or public service,” the Queen said.
    “I can get my own job, Mother. I like what I do and where I work.” Shayla tried to control her urge to yell back.
    “You’re wasting your Harvard education managing tasks in the armpit of the earth.”
    “The ‘armpit’ you speak of is in the very town where Harvard resides,” Shayla said, triumphantly.
    “I’d just like to see you do something more valuable. That’s all,” the Queen said.
    Shayla noticed the forced sweetness in her mother’s voice, but wasn’t fooled.
    “At least let me get you a security detail, please.”
    “I’m fine.” Shayla knew that her mother would probably put a detail out on her anyway, but they’d be discreet. At least she wouldn’t have a mess of bodyguards surrounding her every trip to the bathroom.
    “If your father were alive…”
    “I’ve got to go. I have a meeting in a little while. Goodbye,” Shayla said.
    She hated when her mother started down that path: If your father were alive. Shayla tried not to think about how the world would be and the type of leader her mother could have been if her father hadn’t died. Even as a young girl, Shayla remembered how her father tried to convince the Queen to banish mandatory castration for any man unmarried by age 26.
    “Bring back equality. You have an opportunity to make history, Amanda,” he used to say, with young Shayla sitting with them at the dinner table.
    The day her father died, so did his dream. Shayla started thinking that if he lived, maybe the Queen would have changed, but Shayla stopped herself. Allowing her mind to enter “what if” land was pointless. History and the laws were cemented, along with the Queen’s bitterness.
    Shayla walked toward her office checking email on her phone, nearly causing her to trip over the bag outside her door. She thought about calling security, but when does a bomb smell that delicious? She carefully picked it up and looked inside. Coffee and a muffin?
    She placed her hand up to her office door sensor, and it quickly unlocked. Shayla stepped inside, closed the door and could practically hear her mother scolding her for even considering eating what was there. “You have to be careful! Someone might want to poison you!”
    Perhaps to spite her mother, or because she was hungry and tired, she took a sip of the coffee. It was still hot. It was probably the best coffee she had ever had, prepared just the way she liked it with just a little milk. She took a bite of the muffin and decided it was even better than the coffee. She justified eating it since she needed her strength for the morning meeting. If it poisoned her, it was worth it. The muffin was that good.
    Until now, she had only observed the worksites and studied the existing processes at the Cambridge Public Works. Today, she would begin to unveil her agenda. Treading carefully was vital.
    She read the logo on the side of the cup. She had heard of Chester’s Bakery. The fact that the bakery came to her, so to speak, suited her fine. Maybe it was one of her 50 subordinates trying to suck up. It wouldn't work, but that didn’t mean she was going to let it go to waste.
    No man in his right mind would think it was okay to leave something for the head of the Cambridge Public Works. Yes, it had to be from one of her subordinates. She