Autumn in the City of Lights

by Kirby Howell

  “No no, I don’t mind hearing it,” I reassured her. “What a blessing for everyone after... you know... to be able to rely on such a strong community.” I glanced at Karl. “I wish things had been like that for us, too.”

  Cheri grinned. “I do so wish Ben could’ve come along on the trip.”

  “He would have made a fine delegate,” Grey said. “But he was injured a while ago, not life threatening, but he couldn’t make the voyage just now. Perhaps at future summits, though.”

  “Of course,” Cheri replied. “I’d love to meet him in person. But I’m thrilled to meet you, Mr. Alexander. I’ve heard you’re one of the best doctors left in the world. I’d thought you’d be a little... older.”

  “Don’t let the good doctor fool you, dear,” Karl said, turning to smile. “He’s older than he looks.”

  “I am older than I look,” Grey said without looking at Karl. “But I’m also a quick study. Top of my classes at UCLA.”

  Grey and I spent the rest of the trip talking with Joe and Cheri. I was glad she and Franklin were the first delegates we’d interacted with. Talking with people I at least had some history with was like dipping a toe into what I knew would end up being very deep waters.

  I learned more about Cheri and Joe in the next few hours and found out their town wasn’t nearly as rustic as Hoover or New Burbank. They had solar panels, high tech equipment, and state-of-the-art medical facilities. Cheri had been a liberal arts professor at a local college before the Crimson Fever and helped implement many of the systems now in place. There was no official mayor there, but it sounded like Cheri was most likely regarded as their leader.

  The way Joe looked at Cheri reminded me of how Daniel looked at Connie. I thought they made an excellent couple, despite the age difference. The thought made me smile. The age difference between Joe and Cheri was way less than the one between me and Grey.

  As the hours passed, I began mentally praying Cheri and Joe were as genuine as they appeared, but I had no way of knowing for sure if they were working for Karl. They seemed like good people, and that’s what the world needed to move forward.

  “Have you been talking to any of the East Coasters?” Grey asked Cheri. “I know Autumn has, but I haven’t myself. I’ve been pre-occupied with the newborn crisis.”

  “Oh, I understand. So young to be dealing with such big problems.” Her eyes gleamed. “Yes, I’ve spoken to all of the other delegates from North America. I can help you navigate the waters if you like, though I don’t think you’ll need much help with Autumn here.” She looked at me and then paused for a moment, and I suddenly felt as if she were studying my face. “You look so much like your beautiful mother, Autumn. You’re exactly how I imagined you’d look. I doubt you could hide in a room full of thousands if you wanted to.” Then she broke eye contact. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward.”

  “It’s fine. I take it as a compliment.” I smiled, but fear twisted in my stomach. Was she right? Had I lost all anonymity? I hoped no one had noticed me and Grey when we projected to Paris.

  I was used to my face appearing in countless tabloids over the years next to my mother’s, but now I had to worry about getting Grey in trouble. We’d have to be even more careful about projecting from now on, or people might notice me and realize I’d been in what seemed like two places at once.

  Shad’s voice came over the PA, bleeding into my thoughts. “’Aight, folks, looks like we’ve made it to Niagara with the bulk of the plane intact. Daniel wants everyone buckled in now. We’re about to land this bird. But don’t worry, we’ve practiced this a few times, but it was on a much bigger runway... I’m sure we’ll all be fine.”

  Joe’s forehead crinkled with concern, and I shook my head. “Don’t worry. He’s kidding. Trust me.”

  Moments later, the plane gently bumped onto the runway, and we rolled to a stop. I was comforted to see Daniel and Shad exit the cockpit. Daniel seemed relieved, and Shad had a big grin on his face.

  “Well, we made it half way,” Shad announced.

  “You act as if this is a surprise,” Karl replied.

  “I’ll be honest, Karl, it was touch and go there for a minute,” Shad said, seriously. One of Karl’s eyebrows went up, interested.

  “But once we decided against crashing the plane and sacrificing ourselves to take you down, it was smooth sailing.” Shad grinned.

  “Are you under the impression that people find you charming?” Karl asked. “It wouldn’t surprise me if that attitude got you killed one day.”

  Shad’s smile turned serious. “That a threat?” He took a half step toward Karl, but Daniel put a hand on his chest.

  “We just made it all the way across the country, and now you two start this? Come on. Let’s get out of this tin can and get some dinner.”

  The people at the Niagara Power Station gave us the grand tour, then took us to have dinner with all the North American delegates at what used to be a very fancy restaurant. Grey and I sat across from Cheri and Joe near the center of a long table.

  A middle-aged woman with dark brown hair and striking brown eyes eased herself down into the chair next to mine. She smiled, showing perfect teeth. “You must be Autumn Winters.”

  “Guilty.” I tried to scrutinize her voice to place her among the people Ben and I’d interacted with. Then it came to me — Elaine Whitmore, from the Churchill Falls settlement. “And you are Miss Whitmore, from Canada?” I asked, hoping I’d gotten it right.

  “Very good, Miss Winters.” She swiftly grabbed her napkin and snapped it out before placing it across her lap. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Are there any other Canadians here?” I asked, looking around to survey the unfamiliar faces filling the restaurant.

  “A couple from Churchill Falls accompanied me here, but I’m the only delegate, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “Ah,” I said, trying to sound satisfied. “Is Churchill still the only Canadian settlement sending delegates?”

  “Yes. We’ve connected with a lot of small pockets here and there, one fairly good sized one in Vancouver, but they’re not organized enough to send representation just yet.”

  “Forgive me, I know you’re the official delegate, but within Churchill Falls, are you also the mayor?” I asked politely.

  “Prime Minister,” she responded confidently. “Of Canada.”

  “Wonderful,” I replied, trying not to sound as small as I suddenly felt.

  “Hello, ladies,” said a man with a rich East Coast accent, pulling up a chair across from us. “May I join you?” We both nodded, and he reached out a hand. “I’m Vincent,” he said, his smile as wide as a grill on a classic car. “Now, I know Ms. Whitmore here,” he said as his eyes passed over her and landed on me. “So that must make you Autumn Winters.”

  I shook his hand. “It’s good to finally meet you in person, Vincent.”

  Ms. Whitmore chimed in. “I’ve told you before that you can call me Elaine, Vincent.”

  “Guess you have. But seeing as you’re the Prime Minister, it just doesn’t feel right somehow. Would it be strange if I called you the Right Honorable Elaine Whitmore, Prime Minister of Canada?” His thousand-watt smile beamed. Grey caught my eye with a knowing smile. We were all witnessing a show. Vincent was a politician, through and through. Ms. Whitmore only smiled in response.

  “Vincent, are you the highest elected official among the New Yorkers?” Grey asked, thoughtfully.

  “Well, we’re still ratifying a new constitution. Plan on having elections sometime next year. So there’s no official mayor, or president, or anything along those lines, but I was elected to speak for us at the Summit of New Nations. So I suppose that bodes well.” He seemed to be talking to himself more toward the end, then snapped out of it. “I’d certainly put my name in the hat if given the opportunity.” He grinned.

  “You’d be a very young leader,” Grey said.

  Vincent let out a hardy laugh and clapped his han
ds to punctuate. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from the guy sitting next to the youngest delegate here.” His smiled widened, even though I wouldn’t have thought it possible. “And how old are you, sir? For being such an acclaimed doctor?”

  “I’m 20,” Grey said with an even smile.

  “Well, there you have it. After the Crimson Fever, we’re all a little younger than I think people would like. Yet, here we are, guiding mankind out of this new Dark Age.” Vincent held his glass up, getting the attention of the people around us.

  “Hear, hear,” said Ms. Whitmore. “To a brighter future.”

  Everyone at the table raised their glasses, so Grey and I did the same. I tried to smile to hide the anxiety inside, remembering everything Daniel taught me, and the hours upon hours of training I’d had in recent months.

  After dinner, we were ushered back to the airport. “Let’s try and sit in the back,” Grey whispered in my ear as we approached the plane. “We’ll be able to keep an eye on everyone in front of us.”

  Moments later we were seated. Across the aisle from us was a black woman looking straight ahead and examining all the faces of the remaining delegates and their small entourages. Seemed like she’d had the same idea as Grey. She turned and caught me staring, so I smiled and nodded.

  “Are you the ones from California?” she asked. Her voice was soft and had a slight Southern drawl, but her dark eyes were sharp.

  “Yes,” I replied. “My name’s Autumn, and this is Grey.”

  “I thought so. I’m Roslyn, from Bath County?”

  “Oh, yes, of course.” I suddenly remembered a quick, static-filled conversation one night nearly two months prior. We’d tried to talk, but the radio hadn’t cooperated. After that, I’d heard mention of her name but had never been able to speak with her again. She was from the Bath County settlement on the state line between Virginia and West Virginia. It’d been recorded in Ben’s journal.

  “Beautiful area,” Grey said. “I got to travel through there a few years ago. The mountains in that part of Appalachia are particularly stunning in the fall.”

  Roslyn’s eyes brightened, then she extended a hand to us both. “I’m surprised you’ve been to our little neck of the woods. It’s a fairly well-kept secret.” She appeared genuine. I was as surprised as she was that Grey knew it.

  “There was an inn I stayed at for a night or two. It was one of the most peaceful places I’ve ever been.”

  “I see why you brought him, Autumn,” Roslyn said. “He’s going to be quite the asset on these political excursions. Very endearing.” She was smart. She knew Grey was trying to gain her trust.

  “He’s handy to have around, for sure.” I rested my hand on his, then turned my attention back to Roslyn. “Are you from that area, originally?”

  “Oh yes. Born and bred. I was a lawyer there for nearly twenty years, but that was before all of this.” She waved her hand, as if gesturing to the new world we lived in.

  “Were you in politics then as well?” I asked.

  “A few local committees, nothing big. What about you? Did you ever dream of being a leader?”

  My brow furrowed in response, but I quickly erased the expression from my face, remembering to be on my guard with everyone here. “No. Never. I honestly thought I’d probably work in the music industry, or possibly just be a teacher.”

  “Teachers are some of the most profound leaders the world has ever had. People still regard the works of Aristotle and more modern teachers like Booker T. Washington. Don’t sell yourself short.”

  I nodded, willing myself not to blush.

  “So, are you on the radio often?” I said. “I can rarely hear that far out.”

  “Fairly often. We have a director of communications who disseminates and records all the important stuff. I get on to discuss trade routes and allocations of resources.”

  “And how’s that going?” I asked.

  “We’re just beginning to clear the freeway on our end. New York is slated to begin on their side sometime this month. We’ll meet in the middle, much like the transcontinental railroad.”

  “That’s impressive. What about the fuel the equipment needs?” Grey asked. “Have you begun refining?”

  “We’re using the stores we have, which are substantial, but work has begun to refine more. It should be operational by the time we need it. In the meantime, we’re working on clean energy techniques. One of the councils I’m on is directly addressing that problem.”

  “I see,” Grey said. “Well, we wish you good luck.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And maybe one day soon, we’ll be able to begin working on our side of the country, and meet you in the middle as well,” I added.

  “That would be a wonderful step toward connecting this country once more.”

  Daniel’s voice came in over the intercom, interrupting our conversation. I figured he wasn’t going to let Shad showboat with so many delegates on board.

  “We’re about to take off. Please stay put until we level out.”

  “I like Shad’s announcements better,” I whispered to Grey.

  “You and me both.” There was a glint in his eye that forced me to grin at him. It was the first time I’d felt at ease all day, but the moment was fleeting. Soon, the engines roared to life. I clenched my armrests and we were off to Paris.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The trip to Paris took most of the night, but I didn’t dare sleep. For the first couple hours, conversations continuing from dinner filled the space between seats, and I strained to listen for clues that anyone was aligned with Karl. After the talking settled, some people slept, but Karl’s presence, in my line of sight near the middle of the plane, made it hard to shut my eyes.

  While Grey went over his lab notes on the newborn crisis, I clicked on the light over my seat and dug out Ben’s journal. Every single page was filled with his barely legible chicken-scratch. Some pages contained journal entries with rambling thoughts on our new community, and other pages were filled with transcriptions of conversations he either overheard or took part in over the radio.

  I was rereading a transcription of a conversation about oil refinement when Daniel’s voice came over the intercom, waking all of the sleeping delegates.

  “We’re making our descent into Paris now. Please buckle up.”

  Soon we were standing on the ground, waiting in the predawn darkness. A light breeze swirled strands of my matted hair, and I sleepily attempted to brush through it with my fingers. A line of shiny black cars emerged, their headlight beams slicing through the blackness. They rolled up to the tarmac, and I raised my eyebrows.

  “The French know a thing or two about style,” Shad said, marveling at the line of Rolls-Royces.

  The cars slid to a stop, and the back door of the first car swung open. A woman in her early thirties, with long brown hair, pale skin and striking ebony eyes got out. She wore a smart suit with a pencil skirt that broke at her knees, and heels that made her legs look perfect. I recognized her immediately. She was the woman Grey and I had seen at the Eiffel Tower.

  The woman introduced herself in English tinged with a French accent. “Welcome to Paris,” she said. “My name is Margery Durand. I will be hosting this summit.” A few of the delegates knew her well enough to greet her by her first name, but when she came around to Grey and me, I used her surname.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Durand. Thank you for having us.”

  Margery smiled warmly, making her even more beautiful. “The pleasure is all mine, Mademoiselle Winters.” It was creepy how everyone seemed to know me by reputation, but I didn’t let the emotion show on my face.

  “If you will all please take a seat in one of the cars, your luggage will be loaded for you, and we will show you to your accommodations.” She gestured to the line of cars. “Please. This way.”

  Once we were in the car with Margery, I made small talk, remembering what I’d practiced back in New Burbank. “Were you in politics before
The Plague?” I asked.

  “I had only just graduated from the Paris Institute of Political Studies when people began getting sick. I was destined to be in politics but hadn’t found my place yet.”

  “This seems like old hat to you, though,” Grey said. “I’m very impressed.”

  “My family was involved in politics.” She smiled easily. “I must’ve picked up a few things here and there.”

  “How has Paris fared since The Plague?” I asked.

  “Well, it’s been an effort to rebuild, for sure, but we are managing now, I think.”

  “How did you all find each other?” I questioned, remembering the white Reconstruction Front flags Grey and I had seen not so long ago.

  “I found another survivor a few days after the mass casualties, and little by little, we organized. And then we found a larger group of survivors from the RF.”

  “RF?” Grey probed.

  “Reconstruction Front. They were the largest group of survivors at the time. I wish you could have met Claude, our original leader.”

  “You speak of him in the past tense.” I tried to keep my voice level. “Do you mind if I ask what happened to him?”

  “To be honest, I’m not sure. He was here one day and then gone the next. He was a brilliant man, though.”

  “What did he look like?” I asked, wondering if “Claude” could’ve set up The Front here, then vanished back to LA to become “Karl.” Margery seemed taken aback by my question.