Darkness on a Pale Blue Stone (30 page)

"Wait, you mean Quentin? Like that classic movie director?" Michael asked.

"What? How would I even know that? And I'm pretty sure it's Quinn. Anyways, all I'm saying is their leader has a stupid name. So, the stupidly named gang has a stupidly named leader, is what I'm trying to say."

"Oh, come on, are you serious?" Lash asked incredulously. "This guy's name is Quinn Tarantino Reginald and you don't think that's badass?"

"'Badass'? Seriously, how old are you? Am I the only one here who acts like he's from this decade? Okay, now that I think about it, that name is pretty rad. I might have to give you that."

"'Pretty rad?' And I'm the one using out-dated phrases?" Lash questioned.

"C'mon. That's retro, not out-dated. Besides, this decade doesn't really have any cool phrases."

Lash shrugged. "Yeah, the kids these days are pretty lame."

"Nice," Marie complained.

The conversation continued and the wine got closer to the bottom.

"... I'm thinking about running for the council" Adam said.

"Whoa, Michael, you might want to keep for your kid away from the alcohol," Jake remarked.

Everyone chuckled, except for Adam. "I'm serious," he said. "I think I could really do something."

"Hey, if you can figure out how we're even going to have elections, you'll have my vote," Alice said.

"You should do it, Adam. You'd be great," Marie said.

"Hey, you'd have my support," Lash said.

"I'm sure you'd have all of ours," Michael said. "Any ideas how to get other people behind you?"

"I have a few ideas," Adam said. "We'll see."

It was dark when they ran out of wine. The group got up and began their walk home, thanking Sean for the surprise. They made their way to Holiday Street and Lash said goodbye as the others went into their homes. She arrived at Rebeca's home a few minutes later.

As she stepped inside, she could hear laughter and voices upstairs. She walked to her room and concluded they were coming from Rebeca's bedroom. The second voice she eventually recognized as Valdez. From the sound of it, their separation was officially over.

Lash laid down on her bed and smiled. It may have been partly due to the wine, but she felt genuinely content for the first time in years. She had people she could count on and a reason to see tomorrow.
See tomorrow.
The thought reminded her of Jake's comments on the Sunrise Gang and she laughed. She fell asleep a few minutes later and slept better that night than she had in a long time.

Chapter 44

Near International Space Station - October 14, 2072

The pod was closing in on the station. Vadim got ready for the final deceleration burn.

"Here we go," he said nervously.

The rockets fired one last time. The pod echoed with a humming sound.

Both men silently eyed the consoles in front of them. Andre's still had a crack in it from its impact with his head. So far, everything appeared normal. Their velocity was steadily decreasing and there was still plenty of fuel. Their anxiety was more intense than the situation deserved. As long as they didn't hit the station and the fuel didn't disappear, they would even have plenty of room to readjust and fire a correctional burst.

But they wouldn't have to. The pod came to a stop just where and when they intended. Only then did they sigh in relief.

"Nice work," Andre said, patting Vadim on the shoulder.

"Looks good, guys!" Jackie exclaimed over the radio as she and the others onboard watched from the station.

Vadim fired several microbursts to move the pod closer to the station and finally to the loading door. There was a solid thud as the pod and station connected.

Cheers were heard over the radio and Andre and Vadim gripped each other’s arms in celebration.

"Let's get out of this thing," Andre said.

"After you," Vadim replied.

They took off their harnesses and opened the door into the station. They were greeted with applause. They both took a tiny bow.

"Good to have you back," Jackie said.

"Good to be back," Andre replied.

After a few more congratulations, the crew began to unload the pod. An hour later, the International Space Station was stocked with enough food and power to last for longer than any of those on it wanted to imagine they would still be there.

The crew gathered in the "Clarity" bay to eat a well-deserved meal of rations. Andre and Vadim shared a few candy bars the engineers at the moon base had given as a parting gift.

"So, what do we do now?" one of the scientists asked.

It was a question no one wanted to answer. While they had the resources to survive, for now, there was nothing the scientists could do about returning to Earth. They still had the pod, which could still make a risky drop onto Earth. But sending only two people with no knowledge of what was going on down there was not much of a solution. They were back where they started, trapped in orbit around their world.

Andre moved over to the window and peered out at the planet below. He could no longer see the massive fires burning, but there were still no lights.
Perhaps we are better off here,
he wondered.

Part Four

“Resistance”

Chapter 45

New Jacksonville - December 18, 2072

Over two months had passed since the establishment of the Council of New Jacksonville. Due to an idea offered by Adam, elections had managed to be held. He had found a map of the city and divided the area just north of Jacksonville's urban center into 10 voting zones, one for each council member, except for the position held by Valdez, which, due to pressure by the marine officers, would be decided by military discretion. Each zone would have a designated building where people could vote, writing the name of whoever they wanted to represent them on a piece of paper and placing it into a lock box. For every box, only one person had the key. This person would collect the votes at the end of the voting day, which this time had been December 10th, and count them. Whoever had the most votes in a zone would represent that zone on the council. As of the election, the council now included Kelsey, Wesley, Valdez, two of the original members who had served before on Jacksonville's city council, five other popular citizens, and, as he had hoped, Adam. He had successfully garnered support among those in the zone that included Holiday Street. In fact, his idea for the zones had earned him the support of the council member he replaced, a man somewhat eager to avoid the position's mounting pressure.

The zones themselves were divisions of the walled area temporarily established as New Jacksonville, though many outside this jurisdiction were already making requests to be included. The area's borders were I-95 to the west, the St. Johns River to the north and east, and Martin Luther King Jr. Parkway to the south. The original wall had been abandoned to start a new one at these borders and so far most of the north-west border had been finished. Barricades had also been built on the bridges.

The walls were built both by citizens and marines. The completed parts were patrolled by a newly established law enforcement, made up almost entirely by previous police officers from Jacksonville and surrounding areas. For the moment, there was no police station or jail, but a fire station was being retrofitted for that purpose. Most of the work there was done by the officers themselves, as division of labor was still in progress. If anyone wanted anything, they had to get it themselves. Other projects in progress in New Jacksonville included a homeless shelter and the pulley raft Michael and a few marines had nearly finished.

Food, water, and other resources were now handled via the zones Adam had suggested. The buildings designated as each zone's voting location would double as distributors. Water and a small amount of food were provided for free, but everything else was handled by a barter system. Barter systems also governed the sale of anything in stores that had present owners. These stores still answered to the council, which required fair trades.

An infinite number of problems still plagued the area. The council met nearly every day to plan further actions. The Tomas Cortez Memorial High School, while still used for classes, was now also considered the capital building of New Jacksonville. The school was the largest central building and its football field was convenient for public gatherings. The council meetings took place in the school's gymnasium. The large room had skylights so it could be used without too many additional light sources and had plenty of room for public observance, something the majority of council members wanted to be an integral part of New Jacksonville's government. A constitution had yet to be officially recognized, though the council members had already begun writing drafts on their own.

The council was currently meeting in the gymnasium to discuss the establishment of a currency. They sat on mismatching chairs around a large triangle made of three square tables. A record keeper sat near them at a small desk and a few citizens watched from the bleachers. Above them, light rain peppered the skylights. The clouds left the room darker than usual, but there was still enough light to see.

Kelsey began the discussion. "Okay, so today we are going to talk about the economy. More specifically, should we institute a currency and, if so, what should it be?"

"For anyone interested, I managed to get an advanced economics book from someone yesterday," one of the council members, Taylor Black, offered. "I haven't had the chance to read it, but I figured it might be useful."

"Hmm. As a side note, we should collect any books we can find here at the school," Kelsey said. "We can start a library for the city. It's a shame the school didn't have a physical one."

"I'll put it down for the future agenda," the record keeper said.

"Alright, so, a currency. Thoughts?" Brenda Wells asked. She had served on Jacksonville's city council for eight years and always tried to keep the meetings on point.

"Well, let's rule out the obvious. We can't do U.S. currency. The distribution and availability would be far too unpredictable," Kelsey said.

"Has to be something we can make a lot of and, preferably, something no one else can," Wells said.

"This already sounds like more than we can handle right now," Wesley said.

"Does it have to be something only we can produce?" Adam wondered.

"Of course. Otherwise, we can't control costs and the currency becomes worthless," Wells explained.

"Right. But what if it's something we can control and don't have to produce?" Adam said, pondering.

"I assume you have an idea," Black said.

"Yeah, maybe. If we could get something simple, where there's a lot of it, like rocks or something, and mark it somehow. Make it clear what is our currency."

"What's to stop others from making the same marks?" Valdez asked.

"That's the hard part. We'd need something that can make marks that no one else can get," Adam said.

"Even a simple engraving machine would be hard to mimic these days," Kelsey said.

"As long as we can find something like that, we could make a currency with relatively little effort," Adam said.

"Little effort?" Wesley questioned. "Even if we found something to engrave with, engraving enough rocks for a viable currency would take... well, a very long time."

"It wouldn't have to be
that
many to start," Black argued. "Just something that we could pay wages with and let the local shops use. Even if it took starting with one piece per person every day."

"You realize there are tens of thousands of people living here, right?" Wesley countered.

"Fair enough. But I think it's worth pursuing," Black said.

"Either way, we still would need to find a machine or something else to mark the currency," Kelsey said. "For now, let's just stay on the lookout."

"Alright, what's next?" Wells asked.

"Length of terms for council members," the record keeper replied.

"Well, Jacksonville's city council had the standard four year terms," Wells said.

"Does that seem long to anyone else?" Black asked. "Especially when we're the only ones with any kind of say."

"The people need stability right now," Wells countered.

"And the voting process won't go as easily next time, you can be sure of that," Wesley said. "Hardly anyone voted the first time, but once things settle down, everyone's going to want a say in what happens around here. And who knows how many people will be living here then! We need all the time we can get to plan for it."

"If you're going to have long terms, there should be more positions available for everyone else," a man sitting in the bleachers called out. "Checks and balances."

"He's right," Black said. "At the very least, we should decide on that before we make a call about term lengths. Let's put it in the agenda." The record keeper wrote it down on the ever expanding list in front of her.

Again, Wells continued the discussion. "Okay, what's next?"

As she spoke, one of the doors from the outside burst open and a marine ran up to Valdez. He saluted quickly and said, "General, I have word from one of the scouts to the north." He was breathing heavily and had apparently ran a long distance in the rain.

Valdez looked around at the others in the room, then turned back to the marine. "What's the report?"

"Exterminators," he replied, still panting.

Those in the room now gave their undivided attention to the marine.

"What?" Valdez asked, leaping up from his swivel chair. The action sent it rolling across the gym floor.

"Five or six of them, sir. Only a few miles north. They're moving slowly, not burning everything. As far as the guys who saw 'em could tell, they were just looking around. But they're heading our way."

Valdez turned to the rest of the council. "We need to get to the north border."

"We?" Wells asked. "Why on Earth do you need us to come with you?"