�This might be a stupid question, but it�s one I�ve been dying to ask: How on earth do you pay income taxes? Or do you....� A sheepish look crossed the man�s face as he asked it, as if he wanted to take it back in his embarrassment. But the answer came directly, and without any of the derisive tone he half expected. �When there is no monetary income, my friend, there is nothing to tax.� At this point the man seemed too full of information to ask anything more, and looked out across the patio toward the sea, stretching peacefully blue to the horizon. The sun had just set and a blazing orange-purple sky glimmered like some artist�s oil painting on a vast canvas. Pretty, he thought. Like this place -- peaceful. He ran a work-worn hand through his white-blonde hair and turned back toward her. Her eyes were not unlike the sea at this hour, and seemed to see him with a clarity he was nearly uncomfortable with. She simply smiled, patiently awaiting the questions that would undoubtably follow in his own good time. �Perhaps you have learned enough of Community for today, Aaron. It is easy to be overwhelmed at first. Would you like to continue this next week?� But before her question was finished, she knew his curiosity was too insatiable to allow that. �No, tell me again how the Community was funded, originally I mean. I�m not sure I caught it before.� With a nod of her head she began...

�The turning point happened in Los Angeles. A group of friends began talking in a quiet coffee shop about how it seemed so unfair that those with the most inclination for learning sometimes got cut out of the educational system for financial reasons. Granted, one can say that those who truly wish to learn can get scholarships, or some form of financial aid...grants, loans...whatever. But the truth of it is, too often one has to have money to make it. You and I are both familiar with that cycle, all patriotism aside, and we both know that there are far too many people who will never study at a University because their parents didn�t -- couldn�t. That is only one aspect of the traditional American system that they talked about, but an important one. And you can see how so many things tend to work that way. I will let you fill in those speculations in your own time.�
He nodded, trying to absorb himself in her words and digest the meaning of every one. But he was also absorbed in her eyes, unavoidably. They seemed to speak to him as clearly as her voice, and with a conviction that shook him and enthralled him. He adjusted his position stiffly in the chair and glanced at the table to break eye contact. She watched him think for a moment, realizing that he needed the shortest history she could give right now. Think elementary, Laeni.
�So they began to speculate about the financial system and how effective it wasn�t. And what they came up with was Community. Well, the raw skeleton that became Community. But at that point it was only an idea, and one that seemed completely unreachable. One of them was a student at UCLA, and wrote a paper about it. His professor, a man of considerable connections and reputation was intrigued and shared the basic idea with a family friend over lunch -- Senator Emil Jackson -- who took it up as a sort of pet project since he was retiring soon. The senator gathered twenty seven men to support the idea and they worked out a trial plan of sorts and took it to the governor to ask his permission to advertise for volunteers. This is, of course, the conversational version...I have given you the history of Community in its more documentary-like form. It�s the green book. You really should read it some time when you have the energy.� He nodded slightly. �Please go on.�
�They started on University campuses, where they got the most exciting response. But students are poor as church mice, so they sent the students out to talk to business owners. That took a little more time. In six months they had a coffee shop, a small diner that was failing and would soon close, and one wealthy landlord with a thirty-unit apartment building. Businesses were difficult to win over, but people liked the idea. The biggest contribution to the project was when a contracting company, Rockford South, called Senator Jackson. Apparently, three of their top engineers had heard of the idea and wanted to give it their full support, no matter what the losses, for one year. They had already found their own suppliers, somehow. So Community was organized, and a computer system developed by the CIS department of a technical college in Boston.�
He looked puzzled. �Now wait a minute, it couldn�t just START out of nowhere. What I want to know is how did people start living without an income. Can you tell me that?� An inaudible sigh from her. His brain is gonna swim in all this information. Okay...think simple.....
�When it started, the businesses involved had signs in their front windows. People with a record in the computer system didn�t pay. The employees lived in Community housing and got payed a little less than before because they didn�t have rent. After a while, people found service in these businesses so effective and customer-friendly that their NON-Community earnings had sky-rocketed, and with good cause. Paying customers more than covered the expenses of the non-paying. Community compensated the businesses by providing them with supplies, employees and a very loyal customer base. It benefitted everyone. Long and short of it is, after eighteen months, there were thirty one businesses working crossover -- that is, both Coin and Community systems. And in this time, Rockford South had built five apartment complexes completely funded by sponsors under the condition that they remain Community property as long as Community existed. Anyone who wanted to try living Community just moved into one of those complexes and tried to put their money away in savings rather than eating at traditional restaurants all the time. Is this making sense?�
�Yeah, they still worked paying jobs, just tried to cut spending and take their business to fellow-Community people, right?� She nodded with a smile, obviously trying to wrap up the explanation in as few words as she could.
�Problems popped up, and the founders managed to get around them all with reasoning, logic, and in many cases...smart financing. As much as we would love to believe that Community can survive completely independent of the traditional coin, we aren�t there yet. That is where people like you come in, and like me. Remember the diner on K street?� A brief nod of his head, and another adjustment in the chair. �Well, that diner is still crossover. Occasionally we do get a coin system customer, even in Beachside Central. They just don�t register in the system by fingerprint, and an employee has to open the door for them. They pay cash, which is turned over to a crossover agent like myself with their weekly supply order. It takes a lot of crossover agents to run a Community as large as Beachside. We turn that money into usable raw materials and disperse them as they are needed throughout the area. Even now we need to share resources with traditional Coin businesses ...I hope that comes close to answering your question...�
Her smile brought barely noticeable lines to the corners of her eyes, and brightened her whole face. She tilted her head and looked at him. Eye contact again. He wondered how she managed to lock into his line of sight so immediately and see right into him. A little uncomfortable, he muttered quickly, �I think so. I wasn�t sure how a community could start without MONEY is all.� He exhaled deeply, and looked tired to her. She stood and motioned to the door, inviting him to walk with her to the street. �I need to be going. Write your questions down as they come to you...sometimes that helps.� A grin that seemed almost childlike crossed her face, but behind it was experience, he thought. She must have worked with hundreds who ask the same questions I have. He stood slowly, tucking the tail of his shirt into his jeans and picked up her bag. �What a gentleman. Thank you,� she said. Again, a brief, but genuine smile and that quick eye contact which made him squirm and turn toward the patio gate.
Once she reached the sidewalk, he handed her the bag, heavy with books, a safe box for coin, and his Service Improvement file, started only two weeks prior. �Good evening to you, Aaron. Call me when you are ready to talk again.� He nodded and shook her hand firmly. Too much information, Laeni. He�s exhausted. She smiled softly and turned toward the street, her feet falling into a relaxed rhythm on the pavement. Street lights had just clicked on, and the light of several stars already shone from the deep purple canopy of nightfall. Slower next time. Maybe a trip to the library. Quiet there, and easy to get comfortable. She nearly nodded her head, but then thought better of it. Her lips curled into the faintest of smiles at this notion. If they knew how often I talk to myself...I must be crazy. But at least I try to keep it to myself, no? I could be thinking out loud...that would definitely be worse. Her footfalls were in steady rhythm, and lulled her into a half-aware daze that carried her in timeless contemplation to her door. She was inside before the fog of her mind lifted and she closed the door softly behind her, dropping her keys into a blue glass bowl on the nearest shelf. It had been a long day, and she thought of going off to bed without even eating anything, but felt a little light-headed and decided to finish off the last piece of cheesecake in the fridge and throw the box away. There�s a healthy dinner for you. Didn�t your mother teach you better? On her way to the bedroom, she clicked on the answering machine and half-listened to two hang-ups, a reminder of tomorrow�s ten o�clock appointment from the office, and her brother requesting a return phone call sometime before noon on his cellular. Oh yes, he is ... where .... San Diego this week? Who can remember.... She fell across the bed fully dressed, let her shoes slip off her feet to the floor and fell into the chaotic lull of the day�s events running blankly through her mind and into some inexplicable dream she would not remember.