Brave New Worlds

raincoat and a bottle of milk from the refrigerator, and Greg's sadness at the end of their adventure was mitigated by the fact that he'd have to replace a very pricey coat.

    Liz figured that wasn't the last of Johnny Doe, though when Greg wistfully asked her, "Do you think he might ever. . . ?" she said, "Nope," just to keep him from getting tied up in knots about it.
    Secretly, she guessed that a rebel wouldn't abandon a safe harbor, but that was really only from the films ("Is Your Neighbor a Traitor?") and she couldn't be sure, now.
    Sometimes when they were at the movies and the screen skipped a frame, Greg tensed, and Liz dreaded the day Johnny ever came back and swept Greg off his feet and into some mission, living in a ghost town smack in the middle of the Pathogen Fields.
    Liz would have to go on the group dates in the Society Center where they observed you behind the mirror and marked your body language and assigned you someone, and Liz would have to learn to live with someone entirely new.
    Above her head, the woman in the video was shopping for groceries. A man behind her said to someone, "We'll have to hurry, the pickup happens tonight," and the woman frowned at an apple; the narrator said, "Mary knows something's not quite right, but what can she do? She can do what we ALL should do: report suspicions. Today's alert citizen is tomorrow's hero. "
    On the screen behind her, the man in the jumpsuit opened the lobby door and approached the desk to make his complaint. (He never actually made it, Liz knew; he just went up in the elevator and shook hands with the other actor, every ten minutes, all day. )
    "It's easy to be a good citizen!" the narrator said. "We need what you know. "

    John Doe was standing at the corner of her street, dressed like a Disease Control agent, when she saw him next.
    When he saw her, he went white as a sheet. Then he fumbled for the tray, handed her a cup.
    "What's in here?" she asked under her breath. "You poisoning us now?"
    He rolled his eyes. "It's the same as the rest," he said. "I'm just waiting here to be taken back to Disease Control. "
    So he was going to sneak in that way.
    "Is it true you work for the DOI?"
    She blinked as his question settled in. Then she shook her head. "Oh, no, Johnny. Don't. "
    "How can you say no?" he handed off a paper cup to a passerby, turned back to her. This close, she could see the vein of green in his blue eyes.
    "You're not stupid," he said. "You know I'm telling the truth. Won't you help me?"
    "What are you going to do?"
    "I'm getting into Disease Control," he said. "I'm getting proof that this is all just to keep us in line, and I'm going to air it across the country. People are going to have a nasty wake-up. "
    She wondered how he planned to organize the nation full of people he was going to wake up. "I can't help you," she said.
    "I know where you work," he said, pleading. "You can help me get the message out. All you have to do is let me in. I'll go upstairs on my own, I can get the message out from there. "
    She took a step back. "I can't," she said. "It's too dangerous. "
    "No one will know it was you. "
    That much she knew for sure—she said, "Someone will. "
    "How can you be such a coward?" He was louder now—too loud, the other Disease Control agent looked concerned—and Liz took a step back as Johnny stepped forward. His eyes were sharp and bright. "Don't you see what they've done to you?"
    "Leave me alone," she said. She wished Greg or someone was here, just in case.
    He dropped the tray with a clang; paper cups and pills skittered across the pavement, bounced off Liz's shoes.
    "It's over," he said. "they'll kill me if you don't help me. You've killed me. "
    Liz couldn't breathe. She felt dizzy. She didn't understand what he meant.
    The next moment she was on the ground, being handcuffed, and Johnny was being picked up (five cops, maybe more) and carried, kicking, into the back of a van that had appeared out of nowhere.
    As the two policemen walked Liz to the car, they passed the van, blaring the last swells of a familiar tune through its speakers.
    "Are you due for a date?" called the announcer. "Check with your doctor. "

    Mr. Randall was waiting for her on the eighteenth floor of the Department.
    She waited. She tried to think how many people who came up to report something to the Department had ever come down again.
    "We'd like to congratulate you," said Mr. Randall.
    Liz blinked. "Pardon?"
    "Your John Doe was part of a