by J. F. Krause
Many other organized communities or groupings of communities have maintained electricity and running water, at least for the most part, but they don’t seem to have decided to interact with the Coalition yet, or even each other. Some of the nonparticipating communities chose not to join because they objected to one of the Coalition provisions or another. Usually, it was the freedom of religion provision. There are several different alliances out there. One of the largest of these used to be the Sunni Muslim Caliphate which we usually refer to as the SMC or the Caliphate. I don’t think it’s very stable though, and relies heavily on intimidation and coercion to hold together. It seems to be bleeding numbers to the Sunni Homeland which is currently a bit smaller but probably won’t be for long. They’ve been picking up a few of the more moderate leaning Caliphate members. There’s actually a small community of SMC that formed in France. It’s just outside Marseilles, and there’s some friction with their neighbors but no violence, at least not yet. The French Coalition Communities have been getting what I can only refer to as refugees from this group. Another larger group is the Shiite Framework or SF for short. It’s located roughly around the Persian Gulf. Our Coalition has several communities around that area as well, mainly because several pre-sickness countries had way more guest workers than they had actual citizens within their own borders. And of course, the Kurds have joined the Coalition. There were many millions of Kurds before The Sickness, but they were divided among at least four countries. Once that obstacle to unity was removed, they wasted little time getting organized and soon joined the Coalition.
One huge post-sickness dynamic that has upended everything in the region is that no one needs oil, at least not in anything like pre-sickness levels. Everyone’s self-sufficient in all manner of power and energy now. That, and the fact that everyone has more land than they can possibly use or need or even patrol for generations to come has rewritten all the rules of conduct.
There are also other groups or clusters of communities that are very small and fairly geographically localized, and they usually revolve around religion, language, customs, ethnicity, or what have you. But I think, with time, we’ll see several of these localized clusters grow into much larger groupings and alliances.” Avery had a lot of information to share that I’d never heard or thought of.
“Do we have a handle on numbers yet?” I persisted.
“Oh. Just a guess. We know our Coalition numbers are just over 500,000 survivors. We are primarily in what was considered the industrialized and westernized countries of the pre-sickness world. We’re least represented in the countries that were still developing or were inclined to avoiding the secular west. Several of our largest Coalition cities are in Asia, and that’s also where most of the other groups are strongest. On top of that, there are large areas of Asia that just disappeared from the communications network. If I were guessing, I’d say the Coalition currently has about 25% of the world’s population, the other organized non-Coalition population is about 25%, and the missing or unorganized people amount to about 50% of the survivors. Is that what you were asking?” Avery asked.
It was. I’m not really that interested in all the details Avery was sharing, but I know Carl loves that sort of thing, so he had a question for Avery after that. “Have you or has anyone been in talks with any of the non Coalition groups yet? Is that on the agenda?”
“As a matter of fact, we have been talking to the Sunni Homeland. They’re quite pleasant, but mixed into their areas of influence are SMC groups, and that group can be very difficult for everyone to work with. Oddly enough, it’s the Sunni’s and the Shiites that have the most conflict with the Caliphate. We have a few communities that are very close to some SMC settlements and that’s turning out to be a problem. For example, we have several Coalition Communities of our own that are largely Muslim of one type or another, but too ethnically or culturally mixed to comfortably fit into either the Sunni Homeland or the Shiite Framework. The very small numbers of survivors worldwide has kept a lid on the pot so far, but as the different blocs form and get stronger, we may have to defend a number of CC member groups. The CC have several very isolated communities, not just because they are surrounded by unsympathetic neighbors, but they’re isolated by long distances from any kind of organized community at all, especially in Africa.”
I‘m more interested in people and what makes them do the things they do. After all, I was a divorce attorney in my first life. Now that I had Avery more or less captive over dinner, I wanted to know how he got roped into being Bobby’s international diplomat. I know how I got the domestic job.
Avery’s story wasn’t too different from my own. “Well, you know how Bobby can be; it’s hard to say no to him. First, I was just going to help with organizing a salvage operation. After that got going, I handed it off, and then I was doing the art and monument preservation project. When it became obvious I was going to need to travel around the world, it seemed logical that I handle Bobby’s business, too. And then, you know how it is; I’m his roving ambassador. Same as you, Irma, but my assignment is everywhere but the U.S. and Canada, or what used to be the U.S. and Canada. The job just sort of grows on its own.”
I noticed Carl was smirking all the time Avery was telling us this.
“So Carl, how did you get hogtied and delivered to every committee you’re on?” Avery hadn’t missed the smirk either.
“Same as you, but I’ve sort of figured Bobby out. That being said, it hasn’t helped me to say ‘no’, but it helps to understand that Bobby doesn’t do many things by accident. A couple of months ago, I was talking with Bobby in his office. He was asking lots of questions, and I was basically giving a one-to-one college seminar. Anyway, something called Bobby away for a few minutes, and I got a good look at the walls where he’s hung his diplomas and some other awards and memorabilia. I discovered he graduated from a little high school in North Georgia. I was a little surprised because I thought he was from Sandy Springs which is, or was, a suburb of Atlanta. Later, I looked it up, and he’s from a little town about a hundred miles north of Atlanta. There were only about 250 or so in his graduating class that year, and he was the class valedictorian. This is all still on the Internet. Hanging alongside his high school diploma and his valedictorian plaque was another certificate honoring him as the outstanding senior that year, and that honor was bestowed by his fellow students.”
“So Bobby was from a small town, and he was smart and popular. That’s not too surprising, is it?” I guess I was missing something.
“No, until you start adding in some other facts. Bobby lived in a town with fewer than 4,000 people in a very conservative part of the country. Bobby wasn’t an athlete, he didn’t have money, he’s not drop dead gorgeous, and he’s pretty quiet. He’s also gay. I’m not surprised he was the valedictorian. I am surprised that he was chosen by his peers as the outstanding senior, though. Does that strike you as a little unusual?”
“Not really. Bobby’s really very nice. He’s kind, gentle, sweet, studious, smart; I’d vote for him.”
“I see what Carl means, though, Irma. Bobby is a great person, and adults would like him, but high school kids judge people by a different standard from us. Why do you think they chose Bobby for the outstanding senior award, Carl?”
“I’m not completely sure, but I have a few ideas. How long did it take for you to figure out that Bobby was gay? It wasn’t long, was it? Do you think the kids in his class, who really knew him weren’t just a little suspicious, too? Kids nowadays are, or were, faced with gay issues much more than when we were in school. Do you think no one was curious at all?”
“Well, maybe they didn’t care.”
“Yeah, maybe they didn’t care. And obviously they didn’t care very much, but why?”
I had to concede that Carl did have a point. “Ok. Why didn’t they care?”
“I’m glad you asked,” he smirked. “My theory is that, contrary to what all of us think, Bobby isn’t naïve at all. In fact,
I think he’s actually pretty good at reading people. I think he always has a Plan B. I suspect he has a Plan C, D, and Z. I think growing up gay in a small, very conservative environment has turned Bobby into a super-survivor. I don’t know what he did to protect himself growing up, but I’ m sure he was doing something. Bobby was a bully’s dream. He’s tall enough, but he’s thin, and he’s not very athletic. We all heard him say he’d never been in a fight. I’m betting no one picked on Bobby because of something about Bobby, something that Bobby did on purpose. He might not have consciously set out to keep the bullies at bay, but whatever it was, it seemed to have worked. And I’m also betting that Bobby knew he was gay and vulnerable early on.”
There was a brief pause while we all digested what Carl had just said. “Bobby is using us to teach himself. Do you remember back when some of the Coalition Communities were a little reluctant to have a gay leader? There were several that even went so far as to secede. People in some of the more conservative areas were very troubled. And what did Bobby do? He offered to resign. And I think he’d have happily bowed out and let someone else take over. But when he offered to resign even more communities said that they’d secede if he resigned as the Executive Director. By now, most of that has died down, but it illustrates how fragile our world and its newfound unity is. And even though Bobby still talks about quitting in a year or two, I’m wagering he knows that isn’t an option, at least right now it isn’t. There’s nobody with the cachet to take his place. That’s why he’s using us to prepare himself for how to do his job. He’s a super-survivor because he plans ahead. I don’t think it’s manipulation; I think it’s pragmatism and instinct. It’s just like his being gay. He was dealt that hand just like he was dealt the Executive Director position. By the way, I don’t think Bobby ever wanted to be in a position like this. He certainly didn’t see this coming, but he knows how to play the cards he’s been dealt. He’s already had a lifetime of practice.”
“Well I’ll be. Last week Bobby and I talked about European table etiquette. Later, he asked if Mary and I would join him for dinner at Calloway House. He told me he thought it would be fun if we had a full-fledged dinner with his children in which we pretended we were in Paris. I taught the whole family! Lydia and Marco and their kids, too.” Avery had evidently seen the light, and so had I.
I interrupted him. “Lydia and Marco and their kids?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ll tell you about them next. Wow! On the one hand, I’m so relieved he’s seriously planning to continue, and on the other hand, I can’t believe I didn’t think of any of this. Carl, are you sure about this?”
“As sure as I can be right now. I have more information that might make things a little clearer to you. We all know Bobby was an elementary teacher, right? Well, he has a double major from college. That’s not uncommon, by the way, especially for future teachers. A lot of elementary school teachers have a major in some other field as well as their teaching coursework, and it just happens that Bobby has a full major in European history. He also has a bilingual teaching certificate in Spanish, and it’s not just on paper, either. He claims he’s not very good at it, but I’ve heard him speaking Spanish to Lupe and Rosie, Lydia’s little girls, and he sounded pretty fluent. You don’t get a bilingual teaching certificate if you aren’t. He was also working on his public school administration credential before The Sickness. Like you said, Irma, Bobby’s kind, gentle, sweet, studious, and smart. He also has a self-preservation instinct that has been sharply honed by years on the playground in a little conservative town in Georgia. I’ll add one last thing. Bobby moved from Georgia all the way to California when he was only 22. Alone. That takes a lot of self-confidence and guts. Bobby’s a risk taker. Sweet, sensitive, introverted Bobby.”
I looked at Avery and could tell that he was just as gob smacked as I was. His face said it all. All the while Carl had this cute little smile on his face. He’s so sexy when he does that.
“Alright then, Avery, tell us what you know about Marco and Lydia.”
“Oh, them. Well after Carl got finished with Bobby, I don’t think Lydia and Marco are that interesting anymore. But here goes, Marco and Lydia are getting married. Marco is staying at Pendleton during the week and at SLO on the weekends. They’re engaged and have set the date for mid July."
“Well, no one can say they didn’t see that coming.” We’ve all known they were a couple for some time now. “Are they going to continue commuting after they marry?”
“No. Right now the plan is for Marco to finish out the first year at Pendleton, and then return to SLO and head up the local self-defense efforts there. A woman named Katerina Brueckner will stay on at Pendleton and take his place as Gap Year superintendent. She was a well-known television personality in Germany before the sickness. She’s responsible for a lot of the curriculum already, and she was also the one who was behind the plan to create a special Gap Year for our younger military people. The military young people will be integrated into each monthly cohort starting July 1 and will have the option to finish in about half a year since they don’t have to undergo any physical conditioning to speak of.”
Once again, Carl had his now trademark smirk as he asked “So when are you and Mary going to take the plunge?”
Poor Avery actually squirmed. Of course, that was exactly the reaction Carl wanted.
“Mary’s a wonderful woman. We both have a lot on our plate at the moment and we haven’t, uh, we haven’t discussed, uh, we haven’t gotten, uh, …”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Carl. Leave him alone. Don’t worry, Avery. We’re happy for you no matter what you decide to do.”
Avery smiled, and looked relieved. Carl was still smirking.
June 16
Notes from Enrique’s Tristan da Cunha Report
La Unueco had been anchored for the last seven days just off the coast of Tristan da Cunha near Edinburgh of the Seven Seas, or Edinburgh for short, the sole town or settlement on Tristan. Two young men from the surviving islanders returned earlier on La Gloro to help with the logistics of resettling the exiles. Brian Lavarello and Gabriel Swain were both in their late teens or early twenties, and were instrumental in the success of the exile project.
Enrique’s crew worked with the young men in making sure all navigation tools and sailing equipment on Tristan were identified and removed before the convicts were finally allowed to set foot on the island. The Gloro, a smaller ship based out of Buenos Aires had been there for the previous month getting things ready, but Enrique was part of the final inspection team before the actual transfer was to take place.
For Enrique Sanchez, today couldn’t come soon enough. From the first day, the prisoners had been a source of irritation aboard the Unueco. On the first day, the prisoners had announced they wouldn’t eat or drink until they were allowed time each day to walk on the deck in the sunshine. Captain Wahlstrom said they would leave the food and water next to their cell doors regardless, and if they didn’t want to eat and drink, that was their decision. They could have all the sunshine available once they arrived in Tristan. As a point of information, Tristan da Cunha, while beautiful, was no tropical island.
At the end of the first day, the water was gone. After two days, the food was, too.
Then they tried stuffing the vents with their clothing. Captain Wahlstrom again said it was their choice. When it got hot enough, they unstuffed the vents. Next they clogged the toilets and shower drains and tried to flood the cell compartments. Captain Wahlstrom turned off the flow of water to the toilet and showers. The exiles decided to unclog the drains. Captain Wahlstrom turned the toilets back on but left the showers dry.
Every day it was something new. When Enrique was required to be present during the necessary deliveries, the verbal abuse was very annoying, at least at first. Then one of the sailors made a chart of all the different pejorative and obscene words and starting keeping score. They even set up a small lottery for how many completely unique insults they could identif
y as well as how many in total. Soon, every guard and sailor was gleefully adding words and tally marks after each encounter with the prisoners. The prisoners never understood why each time they shouted out their worst expletives, the crew and guards laughed out loud, often high fiving each other. They had no idea their captors were actually hoping for something new to add to the chart. And of course, the jailors couldn’t talk to the prisoners, so little by little things quieted down, somewhat to the disappointment of their young guards.
The seven days at sea had been uneventful other than the tantrums below deck, and Enrique was excited to explore Edinburgh and Tristan. Brian Lavarello and Gabriel Swain had already given the crew of La Gloro a personally guided tour of the community during the days before the arrival of La Unueco so one of the first orders of the day, after securing their moorings was to give the newly arrived crew and guards their own chance to see one of the most unique places on the planet. Half the young men went out on the first expedition while the other half waited until they were finished and it was their turn. Enrique was in the second group.
Needless to say, the air below deck was getting a little stale by the time the prisoners had done their worst to make life miserable for the sailors and guards. Of course, the only real victims of their antics were themselves. The ship was barely affected outside of the immediate vicinity of the ship’s brig.
Edinburgh is a neat, colorful town where it seems to rain three days out of four. It never gets hot; it barely qualifies for warm, but it’s quite picturesque nonetheless. The islanders’ farm animals were all there waiting for the exiles to take care of them if they chose to do so. There were potato fields, vegetable gardens, a crawfish plant, and a pier for fishing. Of course, there was the island itself to explore. All in all, life could be very good for the prisoners if they chose to so make it. No one, however, was betting they would be as successful as the people they were replacing.
