by Ryan Tang
Once Jared heard it, it was impossible to fly on.
As he descended, Jared fired open the Forums to see if he could ask anyone to help out at Block 7.
But the entire discussion was gone. Instead, the screen was blocked off by a single long message someone had pinned across the page.
Jared stared in complete bewilderment.
His confusion only mounted with each word he read.
"I hate to be the bad guy here, but it's time for some cold hard facts. The colony was built for a population of no more than fifty thousand. Now we have over a million people here! Why would anybody think this was going to last? Open your eyes! It's been right in front of you sheep this entire time but nobody wanted to deal with it. We have a serious overpopulation problem and all these useless bodies are starting to take their toll. Think about an old building. If too many people stand on the roof, it'll eventually break! That's what's happening to Plenty right now.
It's about time we start thinking about who actually deserves to be here. Every day on my way to work I see over a dozen homeless people lying around, not working, and weighing down the colony. It was fun while it lasted but we can't let people sit around doing absolutely nothing all day any longer. It's nothing personal. They could just get good jobs at Southern Robotics helping us get to Earth but they're just too damn lazy and selfish.
I'm not encouraging violence or anything like that but it's just common sense! If we can't find a way to get them to start pulling their weight, we're going to need to find a way to get rid of them somehow. It might sound harsh but it's the fair thing to do. I'm even worried they'll get it into their little heads to band together and start attacking us! With the colony shaking, shelter is going to be at a premium.
At this point, if you aren't helping Director Stock get us to Earth you are just holding us all back.
Good luck to every other honest man who's just trying their best to survive."
Jared shook his head.
What the hell was he reading?
Why was it so important that it had to block off the screen?
He had friends or colleagues who occasionally theorized about overpopulation. Stock occasionally brought in books about it, and everyone had to read Stock's books. Sometimes, the ideas caught on. But this seemed like a ridiculous time.
The colony was burning!
Where were the people asking for help?
When he tried to type, a red warning flashed across his tablet, forbidding him from sending another message.
"Server limit reached. We won't be accepting any new posts at this time."
Jared dismissed the cartoon character dancing apologetically back and forth on his tablet then switched channels to the Southern Robotics internal chat. Even though he'd been fired, he still had access to it.
But that page only had a single message on it too. Like the Forums, the internal chat was not accepting any new messages.
"Don't worry about the quakes. We are working on it. If the press asks let them know that all hands are on deck. Stay posted and wait for further updates from the Director. When in doubt, deny. You are free to help your neighbors but keep in mind that you are representing our company's reputation with your actions. Limit liability and don't be needlessly charitable! Don't forget to train hard in the simulator!"
Jared stared at the page in disbelief.
He had to reread the words just to understand them. They were so meaningless they kept tumbling out of his head.
Limit liability and don't be needlessly charitable?
When in doubt, deny?
Don't forget to train hard in the simulator?
How could Director Stock possibly talk about those kinds of things right now? Why wasn't anybody else helping? They prided themselves on being the most brilliant engineers on all the colonies!
He landed.
His Paragon loomed over not just the people on the street but their tiny box-like homes as well. Jared had no idea how anyone could live in those puny little things. The smoke continued trailing towards him. The thick black smoke had a course and poisonous smell. To his horror and disgust, he recognized the distinct undertone of cooking meat.
"Help! Sir! Help!"
A young boy stumbled towards him. Curtains of blood dripped down his face from a wound at the top of his head.
"My mom! My mom couldn't get out! Help her! She's stuck inside!"
Jared stared at the collapsed and burning building.
There was no chance this kid's mom was alive.
She was probably one of the people cooking.
Then the rest of the crowd streamed towards him, howling for assistance.
"Get us out of here!"
"My house is on fire!"
"Help! Help! Help! Please help me!"
"Holy shit! What the hell is Waters thinking? They only sent a single machine!"
"My dad couldn't get out of the house!"
The kid screamed, again and again, his voice cracking pitifully under the strain.
"Help my mom! She was caught in the fire! She needs to go to the hospital!"
Jared stepped forward, shouting as loudly as he could.
"Back away! I'm going to help everyone! Back away and get into line!"
But of course, it was no use.
He was standing at the mouth of hell and telling people to get in line.
They screamed and struggled, pushing each other aside, frantically trying to seize his attention.
Then Jared remembered he was inside a Paragon.
He brought both hands high above his head and slammed them together. The noise was like thunder.
"Silence!"
"Silence!"
"Silence!"
They froze on the third clap.
Jared stared at the mass of people gaping up at him. Part of him could not believe this was happening. It felt like a dream, one where he was getting yanked through a sequence of nonsensical scenes. He'd been playing on the simulator less than an hour ago.
He panted uneasily.
"I'm helping this boy first, but I'm going to help everyone after. I promise I'll help everyone."
Guilt and doubt raged through his brain.
Who was he to tell them what to do?
Who was he to decide who needed the most help?
All their homes had fallen. Their streets were burning. The horrific wail from before echoed in his ears.
The bloody boy swayed back and forth.
"Mom...my mom..."
The poor kid could barely point at the fallen house anymore.
Jared stepped over and shouted.
"Step away from the walls! I'm coming! Step away from the walls!"
His giant hand reached down.
He moved the fingers slowly and gently forwards. If the boy's mom was still alive, he wanted to give her ample time to step back.
There was a slight clang as the fingers pierced through the sleek white walls.
He lifted, and the boy began to scream.
There was no helping his mom.
The flesh had been seared off half her body. There was a dent the size of three fists embedded deep in her face. Jared set the walls back down and stared.
He'd never seen a corpse before.
Her head wasn't supposed to look like that.
A man with a thick beard cursed loudly.
"Now look what you've done! You wasted your time helping that kid and now my fucking house has burnt down!"
His neighbor, a short woman with long curly hair, hastened to admonish him.
"We all lost our houses! We need to stick together!"
She stared up at the sky.
"Why aren't they sending anyone? What the hell is Waters doing? He can't just leave us here!"
"We need to get to the bottom of this!"
"Who's healthy enough to walk? We'll go to his mansion!"
Their words washed worthlessly through Jared's ears.
She was dead.
She was dead e
ven though he had a Paragon.
Jared suddenly remembered the message Alex read out to him.
"My mom was hurt in the quake! I need help! She doesn't have a lot of time!"
Whoever that person was, their mom was probably dead too.
A high-pitched voice called out to him.
"Hey! Hey, you!"
Jared looked down.
It was the woman with the wavy hair, the one who yelled at the man worried about his house.
"That kid needs help! You need to get him to a hospital! How fast does your machine fly?"
Jared blinked.
The kid was still there.
Very fast. It could fly very fast.
Jared scooped the unconscious boy up. He feebly whimpered.
"Mom...mom...stuck...help...."
Jared brought him up to the cockpit then opened it.
The boy was very light. Jared set him flat on his back. There were other people he could help too. He had room for more, and he could carry others with his hands.
He had to act fast.
"Who else has relatives trapped in the buildings?"
In addition to the man who'd shouted about his father, there were three others. Jared winced as he flicked apart each of the homes. He already knew what he'd see, but he couldn't just leave them there without checking. All of them were dead, the corpses burnt and blackened. There was a pair of little twins whose heads had smashed to bits by a falling roof.
Jared forced himself to speak the next words, forced himself to move on as quickly as possible. The boy's breaths were very shallow.
"Alright. Who else needs medical attention?'
He chose as quickly as he could.
He let the most injured fly in the cockpit alongside him, bringing them up with his gentle hands. There was a woman whose legs were crushed and another covered in severe burns. Those two and the boy were the ones who had it the worst. He brought the burnt woman's adult son into the cockpit with them to watch over them as the Paragon flew. The man had a nasty gash across his head, which he said came from when he threw himself over his mom to protect her.
He scooped up the ones with more minor injuries in his Paragon's hands.
He could have carried more people inside, but the three he brought in were so traumatically injured that he was terrified of people bumping into them. He briefly glanced at the burned woman. Every breath was a labored rasp. A single loose touch would kill her.
He closed the hatch and set off again as fast as he could, loudly promising the people left behind that he'd return.
____
He knew what happened before he turned around.
The man's wail pierced Jared's heart.
"No! No! We're almost there!"
"Please, mom! Just breathe again! One more breath! One more breath!"
He screamed at Jared.
"Fly faster! Fly faster! They might be able to do something if you fly faster!"
Jared should have known that she'd never make it. Her ripe smell had filled the cockpit as soon as she was brought inside. Nobody could smell like that and survive.
The son screamed and screamed.
Other than the other woman's occasional moans, the rest of them stayed as silent as his dead mother. The boy was still unconscious and Jared could not speak.
The thought beat against his head like a drumbeat.
Dead. Dead. Another person dead even though he had a Paragon.
They flew past the now extinguished fires on Block 4 before they finally reached the hospital.
The man sprinted out almost before they landed, cradling his mother's corpse in his hands. Her cooked flesh sloughed off her body and dripped onto the ground, leaving a trail of shiny pink behind them.
Jared set his enormous hands onto the ground. Most of the people he'd brought could walk and the ones who didn't had friends to help them.
It was the people inside the cockpit he needed to worry about.
Jared shouted for assistance. A pair of harried-looking technicians hurried out, wheelchairs in hand.
They swore loudly when they saw what'd happened.
"Holy shit. What happened here?"
Together, Jared helped the technicians gather up the two survivors in the cockpit. The younger one looked up curiously at him.
"Did you see the other one? The burned woman?"
"I brought her here too."
A brief note of hope entered Jared's voice.
"Is there anything you can do?"
"Uh, no."
The technician let out a high-pitched laugh.
Jared stared blankly. How could he be laughing? How could the man be laughing at a dead woman?
"She's definitely dead. It's just your people are the worst I've seen all night. Most people only had a few cuts or scrapes."
Jared grimaced as he re-entered his Paragon.
"I've got a lot more coming."
Jared pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. He opened it, then shook his head. He tossed the entire thing at the technician. He had no time to waste counting out money.
The man laughed again, but this time Jared heard the strain. Jared had heard that laugh at Southern Robotics before. The younger technician didn't think this was funny at all. That was the laugh people made when they weren't alright.
Why the hell weren't there any hospitals in Blocks 5 to 10? What was the point of the mobile ambulances if they weren't out being mobile during the greatest disaster to ever befall the colony?
The man from before was kneeling in front of the hospital doors, screaming and screaming. When the boy with the broken head woke up and remembered his mom was dead, his reaction would probably be the same.
Jared clenched his teeth.
His heart felt like it'd been stilled forever.
The woman's dented face stared back at him as he flew back into the still and empty sky.
CHAPTER 10: THE PRAGMATIC RULER
This was the most significant challenge Governor Waters had faced in all his years leading Plenty.
A massive mob was outside the gate of his mansion, screaming and shouting for help.
The Governor's mouth curled with distaste. Governor Waters had ruled Plenty for the last thirty years, and he'd be needed for thirty more. The colony would be lost without him. The undignified screaming outside his estate was proof enough of that.
"What's happening!"
"Why is the ground shaking?"
"No cover-ups! No cover-ups!"
The group steadily inching their way to the front was somewhat organized, but because they'd gathered around a strange-looking crazy-eyed woman instead of an actual leader, their request – the Governor would not stoop to calling it a demand – was bizarre and nonsensical.
"Use your Paragons!"
"Send help in your Paragons!"
Governor Waters owned the most complete collection of Paragons on all thirteen colonies - every version in every color. After his election, Stock Senior made it a habit to send one to the Governor's office every year on his birthday, a happy tradition his son continued. Dignitaries from other colonies soon joined in.
His beautiful collection was so famous that even the yellers outside knew about it. But the Governor wasn't going to send out his Paragons willy-nilly.
He had to draw a distinct line between Governor Waters the public official and Mr. Waters the upstanding citizen of Plenty. Governor Waters didn't have any Paragons to send out. He'd wisely outsourced the whole disaster relief thing to Southern Robotics and their wonderful mobile ambulances. Mr. Waters had Paragons – but he was a private citizen and shouldn't have to do more than his fair share.
If he helped tonight, it would set a horrible precedent of people who hadn't earned Paragons begging for them from people who did.
And besides, the ground had barely shaken. They were just being a bunch of babies.
"Use your Paragons!"
"Use your Paragons!"
"You're killing us by keeping them i
nside!"
Killing them?
Killing them?
How was he killing them?
It hurt his head just trying to understand such nonsense.
Listening to the hysterical rabble was useless. Governor Waters shook his head and looked away from the window so he wouldn't get distracted.
The veteran politician thought about the other crises he'd steered the colony through.
There was that crazy business with Junior's overeager experiment. That little fiasco nearly rocked the colony apart, but dealing with it turned out much easier than anyone had expected. Stock Sr. had safeguards in place. With Waters's permission, he'd blocked off Block 12 from the rest of the colony. There was a bit of a speed bump when it turned out there were still people inside, but by the time the walls came down, they had no way to complain. The other colonies never figured out what happened. The reputations of Southern Robotics and Plenty remained intact, and best of all, Junior was able to inherit the company without further incident.
After Junior rose to power, there was the whole absurdity with Henry James's attempt to take over Southern Robotics. Junior had the firm support of the company board, so the asshole tried getting around it by appealing to the engineers and technicians instead of the appropriately appointed authorities. He even reached out to the assembly-line workers! Eventually, the fools threatened to stop working unless Junior put James in charge. A swift intervention by Plenty's Security Force cleared up that misunderstanding. Best of all, James and his other ringleaders had died trying to fight back. The squirrely little man was strangely popular, and Waters had heard rumors he'd try to run against him in the next election. Just like the screechers outside the Governor's home, James had never known his place.
Since then, there were occasional nasty cases of corporate espionage, but Waters mostly let Stock deal with that himself. Once in a while, the Governor's office would receive a memo informing him that Stock had caught another spy. If the perpetrator were alive, Waters would deal with him. If not, all the better! It wouldn't be proper for him to interfere with Southern Robotics's internal business unless he absolutely had to.
Governor Waters had steered Plenty through all those disasters with a stern hand, a hand that was closely linked with the mechanical arm of Southern Robotics. The combination of his dignified rule and the Stock family's brilliance was the key to the colony's incredible success, and it would get him out of this mess too. The great company's government liaison was on her way, and the Governor was eager to find out what Sarah had to say.
