Your Grandchildren Have Voted to Evict You

How it begins

Marta's grandchildren had voted to evict her. This was surprising because her only son did not want children.

She checked the notice for a mistaken address.

Her flat. Her name. Three descendant signatures, each accompanied by an estimated birth year.

The youngest would arrive in 2089.

She called the housing authority from the kitchen, standing beside the radiator that had needed repair since March.

“The notice is correct,” said the adviser.

“My descendants do not exist.”

“They are represented.”

“By whom?”

“A licensed future-interest provider.”

Marta closed her eyes.

For twenty years she had mediated housing disputes. She had explained the future-resident provisions to pensioners, young parents, and a woman whose forecast family had been revised upward after an investor purchased her street.

She had said the rules were intended to protect people who could not yet speak.

Now three of those people had requested her removal to improve the projected value of a development fund.

“What evidence did they consider?”

“The provider's model.”

“Can I see it?”

“Commercially sensitive.”

Marta wrote the phrase on the back of the envelope.

At work, an analyst named Jules had once raised a question about duplicate descendant accounts. The department had transferred him to records quality. She had signed the transfer because the mediation queue was long and someone had called his concern theoretical.

She found his number.

He answered immediately.

“I thought you might call.”

“Why?”

“Your family tree sold twice last night.”

Marta sat down.

The notice lay beside her breakfast plate, polite and final. It allowed fourteen days to leave the flat or appeal to the same provider that had purchased the votes.

“Jules,” she said, “how many grandchildren do I apparently have?”

“Depends which company is asking.”

Outside her window, workers began measuring the street.

For once, she did not intend to help anyone reach an efficient compromise.