“For hump’s sakes!” Mitchell exclaimed. “You’ve taught me so much! Stop with this hair shirt mentality. When will you put your learning to use in the world? We’re from the Andes! From a proud and noble lineage. We have a gift for walking and carrying, for astronomy, for consensus building. You’re the one who told me that our cosmic mother cries rain and our ancient ancestors saved us from that downpour. We can spread the word. We’re surrounded by animals who think of us as spitty wool machines! Meanwhile, we have some things to offer!” He took a breath. “We’re witnessing our mayor and his cronies turning our city into a shopping center mixed with a prison. We’re surrounded by brilliant animals from all over the world who are forced to act out all these idiotic roles. Who do you know who’s able to use their full brilliance? You and I work in the belly of the beast. We went into public service to do good, not to watch it be eaten from within.”

Alfonzo cocked his head. It felt like the speech was more about Mitchell than about his academic disaster.

“You think Pamella wants to banter about coffee with Dawn, or with me for that matter? You think what the market wants has anything to do with what the spirit demands? Are we all destined to spend our time filing papers, or spraying whipped cream on mochas, or trading little bits of plastic garbage back and forth?”

Mitchell huffed, embarrassed with himself. That was the gist of it. You lay out all your deepest fears, and it sounds like just another dumb monologue at a bar.

Alfonzo hummed along to the stereo and motioned for another round of whatever the bartender had poured them earlier.

“We are the bureaucrats. We keep this city glued together. We are the glue, but maybe we need to start unsticking ourselves in order to change things! Animals with necessary jobs are devalued, while those who rob the rest of us blind are elevated to guru level. I mean, I expect to hear this nonsense on the news, but from you I expect better. Postal workers, schoolteachers, the MTA maintenance crew, the adorable creature making us coffee, cats fighting their predatory landlord, some sad alpaca who keeps the records of our civilization in order—we’re workers. The city needs our intelligence and participation.”

“Yes, but—”

“Shut up. Another thing. You’ve spent all this time romanticizing the university. But it’s sick right now. It’s not doing what it should be doing. It’s infected with the same thing that’s infected the state.”

“Money.”