utopia unraveling (The Virtagwala Series Book 1)

by Kyle Malinowski

  utopia

  unraveling

  The Virtagwalla Series

  written by

  Kyle Malinowski

  Cover designed by

  Jordon Lamping

  In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the author constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the author at KyMalinowski@gmail.com.

  Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  To my parents, Eric and Mary

  Thank you for putting a pencil in my hand, and a notebook in front of me all those years ago…

  Prologue

  Virtagwalla (vert-ā-gwä-lä) – a small seismic island located in the southern hemisphere of the Pacific Ocean, approximately two thousand miles off the western coast of Hawaii. The island at one time was home to 1.5 million people, ranked as the third wealthiest nation on earth per capita, and was considered a premier model for financial and governmental success. On the western side of the island was the City of Villaggio (pop. 300,000) a very conservative population, with an economy driven by agriculture and manufacturing. The center portion of the island was composed of a large and dangerous jungle, home to many forms of native flora and fauna found nowhere else on earth. On the far eastern side of the island is a naturally occurring deep-water bay, once the home to the metropolis, Ponchertrain. The City of Ponchertrain (pop. 1,200,000) was the governmental capital, cultural center, and economic hub of the island nation of Virtagwalla. Ponchertrain was considered an engineering marvel, having been built on its harbor, as a floating city. Between Ponchertrain and the Jungle, stood a series of large hills known as the Mounts.

  Today, the island of Virtagwalla has been completely deserted, and is currently under the administration of the United States Department of the Interior, specifically the Fish and Wildlife Services, and is classified as a component of the United States Pacific Island Wildlife Refuges. Under United Nations General Assembly Resolution #67/314, the United State’s holds “in trust and universal understanding” the island of Virtagwalla, and strictly forbids anyone, including the United State’s Government, from exploiting its natural resources, or its strategic location in the Pacific Ocean.

  This is the story of the final months of Virtagwalla’s existence…

  Book One

  of

  The Virtagwalla Series

  1

  “Good morning ladies and gentlemen, I have two topics to cover in this morning’s briefing. I will then take a few questions,” Elisabeth Mooring pushed a wisp of hair out of her face, draping it over her ear. She stared down at her notebook, its pages riddled with a fowl playground of scribbles, sticky notes, and details haphazardly smashed into the corners. Lis placed her finger by one of the notes, and glanced at the crowd, “The first thing this morning is an update from the National Conversion Committee. As I have mentioned many times before, nearly four years ago the people of this island nation voted to become a state in the United States. The National Conversion Committee was assembled to ensure the process of converting to statehood was executed smoothly. Prime Minister Artimus Zhang, the Committee’s chairman, released a statement yesterday evening announcing that the committee is making great progress. He did emphasis though, that the team of political leaders is still working with the group of graduate students from the University of Virtagwalla to figure out the logistics of how to convert the political structure of Virtagwalla to match that of the United States.” She was cut off by a waving hand in the back.

  Lis raised an eyebrow, shook her head, and shouted over the crowd, “Rodney, I said that I would allow for questions after my briefing.”

  Rodney stood, “I know Lis, but I have a quick question,” Lis rolled her eyes from behind the podium, and nodded her head. He stood, “Is it definite the President will support all of the recommendations made by the National Conversion Committee?”

  She winced, “President Rove has expressed his confidence in the committee publically many times before. The President was the one who established the committee to ease in the transition. However I am not at liberty to say with absolute certainty that whether or not the President will support each and every recommendation set forth by the committee,” Lis sighed as she glanced down again at her agenda. Looking back up, she found the dozens of hands in the air demanding the Executive Press Secretary’s attention. “Ok, folks, I am going to continue with the agenda items and will field the rest of the questions at the end,” she paused to organize herself, “At 10:32 last night a miniquake rattled the island. This is the fourth miniquake in the past three weeks. The Metropolitan Foundation Service has assured the President that due to the very nature of where our island nation is located in the Pacific Ocean we are bound to be experience occasional tectonic tremors from time to time. I have been assured that we have nothing to worry about, and the President would also like me to communicate to the citizens that they have nothing to worry about as well. The National Government through the Metropolitan Foundation Service is monitoring the ocean floors and known faults and will act accordingly if they feel we are in any real danger,” she paused again, “Ok, now, are there any questions?”

  Sally from the third row stood after being called upon, “Lis, has the President expressed concern for the worsening economic situation unfolding in the United States, Japan, and throughout Europe?”

  Looking down at her notes, Lis was slightly taken aback by the first official question of the morning, “Sally, you always have to throw me a curveball first thing in the morning,” she chuckled and shook her head, “However to answer your question, the President has recently met with his Board of Economic Advisors, the Minister of Finance Jacqueline Sensado, and the Presidents of the largest banks in Virtagwalla, including the Virtagwalla World Bank. He has assured me that at this time, at least, there is little to worry about. Nearly all the major companies and banks all over the island have reported strong earnings through this last quarter and continued growth,” she paused, “Plus the University of Virtagwalla Dragons have been playing football quite well recently too, so if I were to guess, I would say he is not that concerned at all,” Lis scanned the room, “Stuart.”

  “So, let me get this right. The President has expressed no concern to you at all?” the squat bald man asked.

  Lis rolled her eyes, “Yes Stuart, he has expressed concern that his housekeeping is placing too much starch on his shirts, and that daily constitution is too weak,” she snarled, and continued, “But no Stuart, the President has not expressed any concern about the economic situations unfolding across the globe. We are one of the richest nations on this planet, and home to some of the largest banks and firms on Earth. The President and his advisors believe that we have the financial wherewithal to continue with our age of prosperity. We have not seen an economic decline in thirty seven years, and I highly doubt President Rove would like to see that trend changed during his Presidency,” Lis snapped her eyes to the clock hung above the reporters’ heads, “That’s it folks. I will brief you again at ten. Thanks.”

  Elisabeth stepped down from the podium, and walked out the side door of the room as the Executive Office Press Corp continued to call her name or ask her questions. Closing the door behind her, she turned to meet her assistant who reminded her that she was scheduled to meet with Hampton Ray in his office at 8:35.

  “You picked Stuart?” a bald man remarked, smiling and speaking in a h
arassing tone.

  Lis turned to find Charlie McFurror, the President’s Director of Communications standing behind her, “You always pick on Stuart,” he scoffed again.

  She rolled her eyes and kept walking, “I like Stuart. For the most part. What do you have against Stuart?”

  Charlie smiled, “My problem with Stuart is that he simply repeats the question asked by the person before him, but with a little more…chutzpa.”

  “Yes, well, you know how much I love a little chutzpa in the morning,” she smiled, walking with Charlie through the halls of Capital Tower towards the elevator, “So what’s this meeting about?”

  Charlie rolled his eyes, “Who knows.”

  Lis smiled, “When working for the President of Virtagwalla, I guess we never have any idea of what we are doing next.” The two laughed as they stepped into the elevator.

  2

  The time was not a wink past 4:28 in the morning when Xavier Rove was subtly shaken awake. His eyes snapped open, and in a panicked disposition, he scanned the dark, lifeless room around him. He carefully laid his head back down on the pillow and calmed his breathing. “Just another mini-quake,” he reassured himself. As if quakes were a usual occurrence, he slipped from below the covers of his bed, grabbed a towel, and groggily fumbled for the light switch in the bathroom.

  Rove disrobed and turned the taps in his shower to scalding hot. He enjoyed his morning showers ebbing on the intensity of volcanic lava. Rove utilized the serenity of a twenty-minute shower to reflect on his life. As the eldest of two sons, the father of one boy, and the leader of a nation – Rove carried a heavy mantel of responsibility on his shoulders. The hot air, made heavy by the water vapors, cleansed his tense mind and body as he prepared for the challenges that were to face him during the day.

  Rove’s morning showers always ended the same. He would crank the scorching water to freezing cold and flop around like a choking fish on a soggy dock. Eventually however he would lay his hand on the massive gold Seal of Virtagwalla cast into the tile work of his Presidential Shower. ‘Virtagwalla – Gold from the beginning, to the very end’. Rove ceremoniously repeated the words quietly every morning in order to get him in the right mindset for the day. It was his nation’s motto. It was his anthem.

  The chimes rang five as he moved, wrapped in a towel, from the bathroom through a side door and into an attached personal study. As he crept through the door he painfully noticed a young man sitting at his desk reading the newspaper.

  “Good morning, Hampton Ray,” Rove acknowledged flatly to the young black man, who sat with his feet on the leader’s desk, “Why is my Chief of Staff in my personal study at this early hour?”

  The young man named Hampton Ray grinned, lowering his feet and the paper, “Did that little tectonic tremor wake you this morning?”

  Xavier Rove dried his hair with another towel, “Yes, but I was having trouble sleeping any ways. Regardless, what are you doing here so early?”

  Hampton Ray checked his watch, “It is noon in Washington DC and New York City, and thus I am awake. The staff and agenda of a President never rest.”

  Rove grabbed a gauze Q-tip, Rove and mumbled, “Yes that may be, but we don’t answer to either of those powers.”

  “Yet,” Ray interjected, standing up. Silence fell over the room. Xavier Rove slowed his Q-tipping, and leered at Ray with a gaze of contempt. Noticing the tension, Ray changed the subject, “Do you want to know a little piece of information I found out from Whitley last night?”

  Rove snorted, “When did my Chief of Staff become the latest tabloid?” He smirked at Hampton Ray, “Sure, go ahead, what did your wife inform you of now?”

  “Sylvester Chamberlain is leaving his wife,” Ray scoffed, folding his arms in an abrasive stance waiting for Rove’s reaction.

  “For who?” Rove inquired flatly as he continued to look in the mirror and swab his inner ear.

  Shell-shocked by Rove’s lack of surprise, Ray solicited, “How did you know he is leaving her for someone else?”

  Rove glanced at Ray, “There is no way a man with Chamberlain’s rotund stature, unpleasant personality, and pompous demeanor would ever leave his wife unless he was getting a little action on the side. So with whom is he sleeping?”

  Ray giggled, “I haven’t got all the details quite yet. Whitley has book club tonight, so we will know more after those ladies gather and gossip. I figured you would find it interesting that the good Chancellor of the University of Virtagwalla, a state appointed official may I remind you, is observing the highest levels of ethical integrity in his role as Chancellor.”

  “Well a man’s got to do, what a man’s got to do. So is that why you broke into my house so early in the morning?” Rove again removed his eyes from the mirror, “To gossip to me like a fourth grade girl?”

  Ray sarcastically eyed Rove, “You’re very lucky you’re a good friend.”

  “I should be your best friend,” Rove joked applying lotion to his face.

  “Yes, well, you’re very lucky that you are one of my best friends or I would not put up with all your shit. With that being said you do actually have a pretty busy schedule today. First up is a meeting with the Mayor of Villaggio.”

  “Ah yes Kel Goldberg. How does he think we are trying to destroy Villaggio this week?” Rove joked pulling a shirt on over his head.

  Ray reached for his leather portfolio, opened it, and shuffled some papers around looking for the day’s agenda, “He’s probably heard some rumor about us sending spies over or something. Your guess is as good as mine,” he commented, peering down at the schedule, “Okay, after that concludes, we are meeting at Capital Square Station to take the Larynx Light Rail to the large power station of the Republic Power Company,” Rove looked over inquisitively as if shocked by this addition to his schedule. Ray shrugged, “They have requested a meeting with you, Prime Minister Zhang, and Finance Minister Sensado. I’m not exactly sure what expect from that meeting, but I am sure the RPC is cooking up something good for us. Speaking of cooking, after that hopefully you can make it back here in time for a family dinner. If not, I will have to answer to your wife, and I would really not like to fight that battle.”

  Rove tightened the knot of his double Winsor and gazed out the window at the sun rising over the Pacific Ocean, “I thought you said this was going to be a busy day?” Rove sighed facetiously.

  3

  Hampton Ray had already left for the car as Xavier Rove half mindedly collected some papers from his study he would need for the day. Rove popped back into his bedroom and kissed his wife goodbye. She moaned and turned over, mumbling and eventually drifted back to sleep. Rove slid into the Presidential SUV. The car accelerated away from the mansion, and out along the coast nestled deep in the northern most neighborhood of Settlerstown. The car ride was silent, just as Rove liked it. He savored the silence as they zoomed through Settlerstown, and up onto the elevated freeway that sliced through the center of the island toward Capital Tower. The residential terrain of Settlerstown slowly shifted into the majestic beauty of Ponchertrain’s city center- the home of the business district, governmental edifices, and civic jewels speckled amongst 1.1 million living souls.

  The SUV quietly exited the freeway onto the main thoroughfare of Ponchertrain, Grand Via, just after entering the part of the city known as the Capital Square district. In terms of population, the Capital Square neighborhood was relatively small however the people who dwelled there during the day were some of the most powerful people on the island. The SUV zoomed up Grand Via to the loop in front of Capital Tower; Ray jumped out of the car, and opened the door for Rove.

  “Ray thank you, but I’ve told you before,” Rove reminded his friend, “I can open my own door.”

  Hampton Ray sauntered next to him as they moved up the sloping east lawn to the large glass doors of Capital Tower. Each time Rove stepped through its all glass exterior and into the highly polished marble walls and ornate columns of Capital Tower, he felt
a sense of wonder. He had not lost that sensation over his three and a half years in office. ‘When I lose it, I’m done,’ he thought to himself every morning.

  During his first year in office he climbed the stairs to his office. However he found that climbing thirty floors was quite a workout, and eventually allowed the elevators to do the brunt of the work. As he and Ray entered the Presidential Office Suite, his administrative assistant, Kay Lyons cheerfully welcomed them.

  “Good Morning Mr. President,” she beamed at Rove, turning to Hampton in an annoyed tone, “I guess it’s good to see you too Mr. Ray.”

  Rove chuckled as he grabbed the cup of piping hot coffee the young woman had prepared for him. As Kay remarked, “Oh and congratulations Mr. President on the front cover of today’s Virtagwallan Times.”

  Xavier stopped, and snapped the paper open, “President Rove’s approval rating in the mid 90s,” he read aloud, Ray coughed rolling his eyes. Xavier boasted as he continued to read aloud, “Mr. Rove’s acute attention to regional tensions, progressive approaches to economic issues, and his charming personality translates to nearly ninety five percent of Virtagwallans thinking he is doing a great job.”

  Rove smiled and nodded his head, as he continued to read the paper to himself. Distractedly he moved towards his office, opened the doors, and walked in.

  “You always did enjoy getting into the office late,” a man, sitting uncomfortably on one of Rove’s impressive matching couches, chastised.

  Rove stopped reading the newspaper, and eyed the man as though he had not been expecting him. Biting his lip, he folded the newspaper and dropped it on his desk. Glancing at his watch, he sarcastically spat back, “Well Mr. Goldberg it is just a hiccup before six am. I guess I was not here before the rooster called. I reckon if we were on your side of the island I would be late,” he walked towards the man named Goldberg with his hand outstretched, “But around here, six am is still quite early. How are you my old friend?”