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Show Acting Alone Page 45 some difficulty raising the shekels. Meanwhile the Boise Cascade people creeped further up the lap of Cheyenne Mountain, filling acre after acre of the once proud and extensive grounds of this institution with pre-fab residential neighborhoods. She could see a wedge of the foothills now as she passed the tiny corridor window. The latest, cheapest terrace at the northernmost boundary of the grounds was a housing tract for employees of the new defense plant by Fort Carson. Polycarpana was already acquainted with several of the residents, for they came to the convent regularly, needing to talk to somebody about their guilt. They would say, in real pain, We hate the idea of spending our lives building the tools of nuclear destruction, but we must feed our families, so we^ don't dare complain. Our jobs are tenuous, our skills specialized, and the government can send us to the breadlines in a second. Polycarpana would feel the political animal in her scraping at its cage. She would glance around to see if sexist Chaplain Wagstaff Bopp was within earshot; and, if not, she would step out of her nunly habit, figuratively speaking. She would tell them to go scream at their fellow union members about Planned Economic Conversion. The government should be persuaded to put money into converting factories of death to peaceful uses. And, barring government cooperation, Polycarpana told her friends about their fellow defense workers in California and Oregon (where else?), who'd already risen up like heroes, pooled their money, bought up the plant, given management the boot, and converted to peace production, so they could have jobs to be proud of, so they could face their children each night - |
