The Tempest

by A. J. Scudiere

  “Nope. You’ll have to do better than that. Last chance. You can sit at the dining room table and have a reasonable conversation with me, or you can leave. Those are your only two options. Because as Joule said, this is our house, not yours.”

  “This isn’t over!” He once again jabbed his finger toward Sarah’s chest and, once again, Joule smacked it downward, this time harder and with her fingers curled so he felt the sting of fingernails. She did not take threats in her own home. She’d seen harsher shit than him.

  “Don't you fucking touch her, you flaming piece of shit!” she now shouted in Jerry’s face.

  Jerry’s eyes betrayed him, flaring at the harsh string of swears. She didn’t care, and her “don’t screw with me” stance earned her a glare before he turned and headed out the door. He slammed the front screen door behind him as he left. It was a sound Joule had previously heard about through country music. Over the past few weeks, she’d come to think of it as a friendly, neighborly noise. Now, it was unsettling.

  Even as she heard his car start up, she had the vague feeling that he'd memorized her face. Sarah had told him her name, and he would be able to easily find her.

  As his taillights faded down the long drive, the threat still hung in the air.

  10

  Cage was thrown toward the dash when Sarah hit the brakes, the car skidding to a stop on the gravel just before it crashed into the pile of branches in the road. He hadn’t quite smacked into the windshield, although he got a good little jolt from the seatbelt, which he ignored and watched Sarah look from side to side.

  It had been five days since Jerry had come to the house. The protesters had shown up each morning after that, waving their signs, and each time Jerry had been there, front and center. He’d spent some money or time or both on the big signs that he could only hold one corner of.

  The night he’d been to their place, Sarah had plopped onto the couch afterward and explained. “He’s my cousin. We played together as kids. I was always the smart one in high school, and he was the jock.”

  Cage had looked to Joule. They didn’t have that. They saw their cousins at holidays, and even not then sometimes. Their parents had moved around with their work and then, once they were gone, and after grandma had passed, they hadn’t seen their cousins at all. The twins had lived in a town of high-IQ scientists, they’d lived near the think tanks, and they’d lived at college. What Sarah was describing was as foreign to him as Alabama itself.

  Sarah had leaned back onto the couch, her head tilted onto the cushions as she stared at the ceiling. “He graduated two years before me and went from high school football hero to factory worker. He wasn’t happy about it. He didn’t get any college offers like he thought. Then I graduated as valedictorian—”

  “That’s cool,” Deveron had interrupted. “I wasn’t valedictorian.”

  “Well, there were only sixty of us, and some of my competition was a lot like Jerry.” Sarah had stuffed her hands into her pockets. “He watched me move away and get jobs and come back for holidays. We haven’t really spoken in years. Now, I don’t know if this protest is just something to do, if it’s personal against me, or if he really loves the grass and the trees and thinks we are poisoning his home.”

  “Could be all three,” Joule had mused, and the conversation ended there.

  In the meantime, they’d seen the protest crew here each morning as they drove in. They were gone by midday, seeming only to want to harass the workers as they arrived. But Cage had noticed that Jerry was staring Sarah down as she pulled the car through the crowd. She’d seemingly become their designated driver, with all of them piling into the same seat each morning. So Jerry was easily positioned to lean near her window as the crowd slowed the car down. Sarah had ignored him, looking straight ahead.

  Cage was beginning to wonder if maybe Jerry was the leader of the protesters.

  Sarah put the car into park, as she had no other options. The branches had been dragged across the road for clearly that exact purpose. He could see she was clenching both the steering wheel and her jaw.

  Cage squeezed her arm to steady her. “I've got this.”

  From the back seat, Deveron leaned forward, too, clapping his own hand on Cage’s shoulder. “I'm with you.”

  The two climbed out from opposite sides of the car, intending to simply clear the branches and drive through. Cage hoped the protesters were done interfering, but he kept his attention on them in the periphery.

  As he leaned over to grab a gnarled branch, Deveron whispered in a low voice, “We’re not the first ones here.”

  “Right, they were here first.” Cage picked one of the smaller branches and chucked it to the side.

  “No, we aren’t the first Helio Systems people on site today. That means they're throwing the branches back into the road every time there's a break in the cars entering.”

  Cage picked up another of the pieces from where it blocked the road. Not the lightest, he thought as he tugged it off the roadway. Behind him, the protesters started in with a chant that they hadn't been doing when Sarah stopped the car. At least, not that he could remember. The fact that they’d started up again, and that Sarah’s was the only car here right now, meant this roadblock was specifically for them.

  He sighed, having already had enough of this bullshit. Like Sarah and Joule, Cage was more than willing to sit at the table and have a conversation. He was more than willing to look into any accusations. He didn't want to work for Helio Systems if the company was actually poisoning land. With the remainder of their parents’ life insurance money still in the bank after they finished college, they could afford to walk off the job, if the situation warranted.

  So if the protesters were right, he wanted to know. If they weren’t, then this was bullshit. And the method was bullshit, either way. So, using his momentum, he swung the branch around and hurled it away from the road, nearly whacking some of the close-by protesters.

  Turning to them, he gave a neatly insincere shrug. “Oh, sorry.”

  Beside him, Deveron laughed softly and did the same with another branch, chucking it near to the protesters on the other side of the road. As the branch sailed and they hopped angrily out of the way, he called, “Look out! Guess I don't know my own strength.”

  Cage knew he was being childish, but he didn’t care until he spotted Chithra Murasawa—one of the managers—walking toward them. She’d followed the gravel drive from the field out to where they were now stuck. She had to have seen what they were doing, but she didn’t call out, thus letting them get a few more good throws in before she stepped over the last of the large branches and softly told them, “Hey, you should be careful where you toss those.”

  Then she called out louder to the protesters, “Hey! You should be careful where you’re standing!”

  “They are throwing branches at us!” one of the women called out.

  He was doing no such thing. He was throwing branches near them. And not over the property line—assuming he remembered correctly where it was.

  Cage watched as Chithra navigated past the car and walked a little farther back on the drive. She seemed to be examining the situation—and maybe eyeballing the property line?—before turning around and coming back. He’d worked with her often enough to like her quite a bit. She had a calm, easygoing style.

  “They're heavy,” he Cage told her. “Really hard to control—”

  He motioned to the protesters to move back before letting another branch fly into a more open space, “—as these good people here can attest to, since they mistakenly managed to keep getting them all back in the road. Which I'm sure is an arrestable offense.”

  He let the last several words hang in the air for a moment. It was Chithra, who was now much closer, who said loudly, “Oh, it definitely is an arrestable offense.”

  She casually pulled her phone from her back pocket and began taking pictures of all those nearby, who suddenly began hiding their faces behind their signs. As they tur
ned back toward the cars, she continued to snap photos. Then she spoke to Cage and Deveron in an overly loud voice. “I can’t see their faces in the photos… but it doesn't matter. I took much clearer photos as I drove in this morning. This is just to prove that they're still here an hour later.”

  “It's public property!” a different protester yelled out, as though that made it all okay.

  Chithra seemed to have realized that Jerry had it in his head to lead the little group. She quickly understood that the smarter move was not to go after him, but the followers. So ignoring Jerry, she faced the group on the other side of the road. “It doesn't matter if it's public property, you still need a permit to gather. I'd like to see yours.”

  The others began looking at each other frantically, maybe having trusted Jerry to have this organized. But even as they scrambled, Chithra kept pushing.

  “It's also illegal to block the roads. And I don't know what you all think we're doing here, but most of what's on your signs is incorrect.” She motioned to the posterboard and paint many of them still held aloft. “We are a large corporation. We've put too much effort into this solar array to let you ruin it over things that aren’t true. So you need to know, I took pictures on the way in this morning. And yes, after your first little stunt, we installed video cameras at the front of the road. So we have pictures of every face that has gathered here unlawfully for the last five days.”

  Cage watched as the crowd grew silent. One by one, the signs lowered and the people looked at each other, wondering if she was going to have them arrested. This strategy was far more effective than his flinging branches had been.

  Chithra wasn’t done with them yet. “We understand you're upset. You should know, you've all been invited to the table. We'd love to have a talk with you so we can all figure out what we need to do to make this safe for everyone—for our workers and for those of you who live here.”

  Again, the protesters looked to each other, their expressions indicating they'd heard of no such thing. Chithra realized this was news to them and she spoke softly this time, only to Cage and Deveron. “Can I hit you guys up for a ride back to the tent? I was going to stay on guard, but I think they're leaving now.”

  Without waiting for Cage or Deveron to answer, she called out to the protesters again. “Perhaps your leader here, Jerry Whitman, hasn’t told you, but he's known for five days that we've offered to have an open meeting to answer any questions. Everyone is welcome.”

  As she nudged Cage on one side and Deveron on the other, the crowd began to turn on Jerry. That was some brilliant tactical work. She’d walked in, spoken clearly, and made them all mad at the person doing the most damage.

  She spoke softly to the two of them again, her tone a little more urgent than Cage expected, given that the crowed was already beginning to disperse. “Get back in the car now.”

  Cage quickly surveyed the road. It was clear enough. A few twigs had snapped off the branches, but nothing that was any threat to the car’s undercarriage. Climbing into the back seat, Cage wedged himself with Joule and Deveron, so Chithra could take the front.

  Sarah shoved the gearshift into drive, though her jaw was still clenched tightly and she didn’t say anything. She plowed the old sedan over the branches, keeping her speed even and her angry gaze straight ahead. All five of them stayed quiet until they were pulling up to the grassy area where they parked near the main tent.

  Cage had expected another day of fieldwork. They’d moved on from smaller mammals and lizards to collecting the last week’s data from the field cams for the larger creatures. He was ready for that kind of work. Instead, everyone was gathering in the tent, the crowd growing larger as several cars pulled in behind theirs.

  As Sarah parked and Chithra opened her door, the manager turned to the four of them before she stepped out. “We have bigger problems than the protesters.”

  11

  Cage laced his fingers together to keep from fidgeting. Instead, he found he was clenching his hands. At the front of the tent, Radnor was talking, waving his own hands in front of a projection screen showing a map of the entire US. It seemed most of the audience—the Helio Systems team—was sitting rapt in their white folding chairs, trying to catch up.

  “We ran the data before we started the project,” Radnor said, waving his hands across the whole of the map. “And we picked this site. However, we've been running the data again. With the latest addition, we've noticed a big change. Dr. Murawasa?” He motioned to where she stood at the side and the manager stepped readily into place in front of the screen.

  Not just a manager, Cage thought as Ragnar introduced her. That was quickly followed by, So she'd known. Not just that there was a meeting but specifically what the meeting was going to be about.

  The team had been told not to take notes, but having something to do would have kept him from fidgeting. He tapped his toe in a steady rhythm to release part of his energy and clenched his fingers tighter together.

  Next to him, he felt more than saw Joule’s eyes flick his direction, as if to ask, What is this?

  The project had already had a major setback before they and the other newbies had arrived on the scene. Was this going to be another catastrophe?

  Stepping forward, Chithra—apparently Doctor Murasawa—pointed at the map. It seemed she was a meteorological data analyst. Once again, he wondered why he and his sister had been hired, fresh out of school.

  Up until they’d arrived on site the first day, he’d foolishly believed there would be workers here as well—people hired to move things around and install everything. And, when he was honest, he’d believed he would have at least some status in the hierarchy. But apparently, no, they were the lowest rung of this ladder.

  He pushed his attention back to where Dr. Murasawa was pointing at several specific points on the map and expecting her captive audience to follow. “We were looking at tornadoes first, because that is what this section of Alabama—” she ran her hand up the middle of the state, “—is known for.”

  Waving her hand along another section running up through Tennessee and Kentucky, she added, “I think most of you know, but just in case, this area north of us is well-known for strip mining. When we head toward the Virginia and West Virginia area, we see more energy from more standard coal mining scenarios. Either way, we're looking at fossil fuels. Our main goal is to come in, create an alternate system, and maybe make some systemic nudges that change the culture toward becoming more fossil-free.”

  Cage involuntarily tipped his head toward his sister and saw that she'd done the same. The protesters out front indicated the last part was not going as smoothly as intended.

  But Murasawa wasn’t dwelling on that. “This section of the country does have a tornado issue, and we've been building to suit that. However, we're now looking at other data. Because the area isn’t known for flooding—despite having heavy rainstorms—we’d run the calculations and when they came out as minimal risk, we didn’t worry. Much of the Alabama area has a wonderful watershed system…” The screen changed to a brightly colored topographical map, but Cage’s mind was flashing other thoughts.

  Oh shit, he thought, remembering what Sarah had said about the creeks rising. As he watched, the map expanded again, shifting the focus from Alabama to the entire continent of North America.

  “The rest of the world aside, we've seen massive flooding situations here—” She pointed to New Orleans. “Here.” She pointed to Houston. “And here.”

  All heavily localized to the south, Cage thought.

  “Miami, New Orleans, mostly coastal towns,” she said, even as he thought it. “And those places were prepared for flooding. It’s not new, though recent floods have been reaching new heights. Now, we add in more recent years. We've seen too many ‘hundred-year’ floods. Nashville had one in the late aughts.” She pointed to the middle of Tennessee. “The entire Southeast US suffered extensive flooding in ninety-eight. And the Palo Alto area had one just under four years
ago.” She moved her hand across the entire map to the other side of the country as Cage felt his stomach clench. Joule’s fingers slipped in between his, grasping his hand. They had been there.

  “In recent years, the spring flood outlooks don’t hit the Alabama area.” The map changed again, showing water flow and bright purple flood warning areas far to the north. “But we have seen ‘hundred-year floods’ hitting in record numbers, and flood levels of thirty-plus feet. These tend to happen because of mountain runoff. It wasn't so much the quantity of rainfall in one area—though that is problematic—but that pooling and watershed runoff created fast-moving water and rising flood lines. If we go back and look at Texas, we can see that their scenario had that as well.”

  The entire team was now turning heads and looking at each other. They weren’t supposed to be in a flood zone. Wasn’t that the whole point? They were in Nowhere, Alabama for a number of reasons. Cheap land and open space was important, but lack of catastrophic natural disasters was crucial. And after the number of disasters they’d seen, that had been a huge pull for Cage and his sister.

  “But what does all this mean?” Dr. Murasawa was smart enough to openly ask the question they were all thinking. “Two things. One—as we look at the topography of this area, we should be relatively okay.”

  She moved her hand around showing the map that had switched back to a topo map of the state. The colors indicated high ground and low points, and this time, Cage was trying to follow the key and make sure he was interpreting it correctly. Joule moved her hand away from his to point. Though their area was higher ground for Alabama, it was lower than the surrounding areas.

  “The mountains feed down to us,” she whispered.

  “It’s inevitable. The water path is why we have valleys here.” He quoted his Environmental Systems class from sophomore year. When he’d been sitting in class taking copious notes, he’d never imagined the information might impact his survival.