Mitchell, Lisa Swope. Rena in the Desert

Lisa Swope Mitchell, 'Rena in the Desert' (2020)

Parched in the desert, Rena stumbles upon an automated motel, apparently empty apart from a little girl. It is an elegant slice of near future Americana with the feel of a haunted house story, or a fable, perhaps an island in The Odyssey or one of those enchanted castles from the Matter of Britain. There is a fair bit of worldbuilding woven in: ecological and economic catastrophe, crumbling rule of law. And there is something interesting going on to do with English, Spanish, labour, automation, and the nuclear family: Although homeless and arguably an internally displaced person, Rena is also a sort of deranged figure of privilege, a gun-wielding consumer whose collapsed US dollars and high school Spanish somehow is able to command, at least for a few hours, the tawdry dream of a domestic space where somebody else or something else does all your cooking and cleaning.

Here Rena checks in:

“You have selected: one single room. For: one night,” affirmed the AutoMotel. A slot on the desk blinked red. “Please insert cash or card to select your currency.” 

Rena expected the bills to come spitting back at her, but the AutoMotel sucked them in and informed her of the increasing total. At eighty-nine, another slot lit green, and a card popped out. The girl pounced on it, then slid it ceremonially across the desk.  

“Your room is: 2B,” the AutoMotel said. “Please take your keycard.”  

Rena stared. Something wasn’t right. Little girls did not run motels alone—not even an automated system like this one—little girls did not face unknown travelers alone, and they sure as shit didn’t control large supplies of fresh water, currently one of the more valuable commodities in this part of the North American continent. Not by themselves. And even if they did, they wouldn’t sell that water, or anything else, for paper money issued by a failing government with no authority in this region. Hell, even in Chicago the black market ran on CAD. Somewhere, there must be somebody else. A mother or father, hiding, waiting to catch her off guard.  

Alarm bells should have been jangling down her spine, sirens blaring through her subconscious, but somehow all was quiet. She took the keycard.

Newman, Sandra. The Heavens

Newman's exceptionally smart and beautiful tale of time-out-of-joint has some economic themes threaded through it ... especially work. Here's a snippet:

The morning of the fight was a workday. Ben had been getting ready while Kate lay reading in bed -- as he'd conceived of it up until then, industrious Ben was preparing to go out to win bread for them both (because Kate scarcely worked; she made hand-painted tablecloths and napkins, which she sometimes sold to friends and for which she was always intending to create a website), and this happy notion played in his head like a song, until the moment he had to shave. It was a task he'd always hated. Then a thought appeared, a blot. It was like a little cockroach in a clean room.
     He turned his shaver off and said, "Are you still thinking of getting a job?"

(JCLW)

Onwualu, Chinelo. 'The Fine Print.'

 Chinelo Onwualu, 'The Fine Print' (2019).

Reprinted online 2021 in Apex.

A story that explores notions of contract, consent, debt, slavery, consumerism, socially reproductive labor, and interactions between powerful corporate bureaucracies and their stakeholders.

The spell frowned and looked through the sheaf of papers again. “The terms of the contract indicate that you are to yield your first-born child in payment for your bride. Normally, I would be able to offer you some compensation, but you have not placed enough wishes to qualify for any of our promotions or rewards. I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do.” 

Whedon, Joss. Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV Series, 1996-2003)

John Elledge muses at The New Statesman:

3. What would happen if a Slayer were to withdraw her labour? Obviously Buffy isn’t going to form a union with herself – I mean, what would be the point – but she doesn’t have to. She can just stop slaying until she is offered better pay and conditions. Clearly this hasn’t happened. Why?  

4. Since the Watchers’ Council is based in the UK, is it covered by Ofsted? If so, why has the regulator never intervened to prevent the ritual where the Watchers deliberately poison Slayers on their 18th birthday?

Perhaps Buffy can be read as a kind of allegory of the naturalization of socially reproductive labour? One could imagine that were Buffy to withhold her labour, the Watchers would do some frantic searching in those big grimoires of theirs and some alternative systems of vampire control would soon surface.

Some of Elledge's concerns are partly answered in the finale, in which the Slaying labour market is significantly expanded, while there is also reason to anticipate a sharp decline in the supply of infernal horrors.

On another note, is there a bit in the Buffy canon where she stakes a vampire and the necro-ash sprinkles Xander, and Willow goes, 'Hey! Slay it don't spray it?' I really hope so.

See also: Buffy the Anarcho-Syndicalist: Capitalism Bites.