Reboot
Chapter 52

I was alone. It was easier to be brave with my friends behind me. Now I felt young and foolish..

We were put in three separate rooms and couldn’t see each other. A doctor came in, I supposed he’d already seen my friends, and poked me around a bit, stuck a tube down my throat, drew blood and left. I was left alone again, I supposed while they ran a gamut of tests on all of us. After an hour, a plate of food was slipped through a slot in the door. A sandwich. Mmmm, wow, tomatoes.

Two hours after that, a man came in. An unassuming, unnoticeable, assistant type. Short, big glasses, big shoes, bow tie.

“I’ll take you to see the mayor now,” he said pleasantly and efficiently. “Please follow me.” And so I did.

We walked out into a large yard that had been built by organizing various larger vehicles like buses and RV’s in a circular pattern, then I turned around and looked back. I saw the doors to my right and a small long building to the left. It looked like two mobile homes stuck together end to end. This building was connected directly to the doors by a tarp covered tunnel-like structure. It was obviously a holding pen. Like a lobby for a disease control center in full crisis mode.

“Where are my friends?”

“Only one of you may see Mayor Stevens. For now.”

“Why me?”

“Lieutenant Hawksworth and Major Partridge told us you were in charge.”

“I am? They did? Major Partridge?” First time I’d heard Dutch’s real name. I was shook up.

“Yes,” he said. “Apparently.” He did a double take and looked me dubiously up and down. “They are comfortable for the time being. Their future however depends entirely on you.”

I stopped talking because I thought I could only dig myself in deeper and only look dumber. I followed Mr. Smithers (he never told me his name so I gave him one) across the makeshift yard and onto what looked to be Main Street Veneta. We walked on for about five hundred meters passing the usual shops you would see on any small town main street. A pharmacy, a small restaurant or café, a nice park across the street, a post office. The road was dusty, but in pretty good shape. Though cracks were weaving everywhere and various grasses were growing out of them. But no people. Me and Smithers were the only two people on the street. I saw eyes though. In the windows. Scared eyes.

He led me to what seemed like the only hotel on the street. He left me there and went back. I watched him walk away for a bit. I then went up the stairs and entered the hotel where two men were waiting for me. They were bigger and uglier than Smithers. No question what their jobs were. They were very polite though.

“Hello Mr. Morgan, and welcome. Mr. Stevens is expecting you. Just go up the stairs and go in through the main doors.”

I expected them to come in with me as a protection detail, but I soon realized why they were comfortable leaving me alone with their boss. When I knocked on the big doors, a loud happy voice yelled out “Come in, come in Mr. Morgan.”

So I walked in and saw what had to be the biggest man I’d ever seen in my life. I thought William was huge. This guy was gigantic. Not all muscle like William but not fat either. Massive would be the better way to put it. Where William looks to me like a tree, this man looked like a mountain. He sat behind a big desk in a large library. There were books everywhere and lots of mahogany.

He seemed affable enough, big smile, open arms. He was smoking a cigar. He walked toward me and shook my hand. It vanished in his. His desk must be bigger than usual because as he got closer to me, I saw that the mayor was even bigger than he had first appeared. Big, bald and well dressed. But his suit didn’t fit. Like many big men, he didn’t look particularly comfortable in it. The arms of his suit were tight and the shoulders too narrow. So the shoulder joints were nearer his collarbone and looked pinched. He should just wear a tent. But I wasn’t going to tell him.

He pointed to a chair.

“Please sit down. You are most lucky you know. It doesn’t happen very often that we let someone in. The people in this town trust me to keep them safe, and I’ve decided to do anything it takes to do my job properly. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

He kept smiling, confidently, like he was trying to sell me a car. But if I didn’t buy one, he’d kill me.

“Good.” He sort of sang it in a lilting high voice. Didn’t fit with the body at all. As if he never got through puberty. “Then we’re off to a flying start. Can I get you a coffee or tea?”

“Yes please, coffee, strong. No sugar. Haven’t had one in a long time.”

I didn’t mention milk because that was a long lost luxury. I usually liked a bit of milk in my coffee. I missed that.

“Great, I’ll join you.” He sat back down, pushed a button and ordered two coffees. It was instant of course. When he sat down, the chair moaned.

“Ok, Mr. Morgan. I let you in here for a couple of reasons. First, your friends are obviously Navy and you aren’t; yet they seem to defer to you somewhat. That makes you interesting to me. Nothing I like more than a good story. Second, you said I could throw you out if I didn’t like you, which seems reasonable. Ah yes and third, we’ve had to do terrible things before to people trying to get in here, but that was then. Things are changing aren’t they. Less desperate shall we say. Maybe it’s time to start considering being more, um, let’s say civilized. So I decided to begin this new trend of peace and friendship by not blowing your heads off.”

“Very considerate of you, sir.”

“Yes it is.”

“Can I ask you a couple of questions first? Before I tell you what I came here to tell you?”

“Shoot.” He puffed a big load of smoke out of his nostrils.

“Have you been warned about me? Us?”

“Yes,” he said decisively as if to say, “of course”. He pulled a piece of tobacco out of his mouth. I waited a bit thinking he’d say more, but I think he was enjoying himself. He spit. Apparently on the floor.

“Umm, can I ask by whom and what did they say exactly? It has a lot to do with what I have to tell you.”

“We were radioed by the government authorities in Maine, a very clear message that terrorists might show up and try to get on our good side. We were told to be very careful and hold you until they can come and take you away. We would be rewarded handsomely for doing such deed.”

“Ah. And that’s what you did? You contacted them?”

“No.”

I was surprised, off-balance. Couldn’t understand.

“Why not?”

“Because I like to make up my own mind and their message is exactly what I would say if I wanted a thorn removed from my ass. I wanted to inspect said thorn before I decided to have it removed. So you see, Mr. Morgan, that brings me to my next point. Your story better be good, because if it doesn’t satisfy me, I’m pulling you out of my ass and you’re going to Maine.”

“Maine?”

“New seat of government. I hear they built themselves a nice place up there.”

I settled down more comfortably in the chair and looked directly at Mayor Stevens. At least now, things were clear.

“You’re right Mr. Stevens, I am a thorn. And I intend to become a much more painful one.”

He smiled and sat back. He seemed to relish the idea of being entertained.

And with that I explained what happened to me from the beginning, including the Island, Belgians, other island, attack by the Independence landing party, pirates (he really liked that part), and lastly, the work done by Mr. Sark on my files. I then showed him a report written by Sark and co signed by Captain Chenoweh. I then sat back down and sipped my coffee that had been brought in mid-tale.

He read the report. Then he put it down on his desk and sat back. He stared at the wall behind me for a few minutes before looking back at me.

“You mean to tell me that The Independence is now a rogue vessel because of you?”

“Yes sir.”

“And you can show me these translations you did?”

“I have them in my backpack sir on a data stick.”

He thought a bit more.

“I actually believe you. I can’t imagine why you would lie or how you could even come up with such a story if it wasn’t true. I’m glad I met you young man, thank you; that was very enjoyable.” He paused, stood up and turned around to face the window.

“Ok here’s what we’ll do, I’ll put you up in one of the suites here in this hotel, you can go and rest for a bit while we interrogate your friends. I’m sure they’ll back up everything you just told me, right? Right! So you have nothing to worry about.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. “Then tomorrow, after a good night’s rest, we’ll discuss what to do next. How’s that sound?”

“Perfect. Thank you,” I said, not hiding my relief.

It was 8pm by then and I was exhausted. As he walked me out, he stopped mid-stride before we reached the doors and asked me: “You do realize the size of the shit storm you’re about to create?”

“I’m afraid so Mr. Stevens.”

“Marvelous!” he said with a smoky flourish.

“Strange man,” I thought to myself.

My two new pals took me to my room, brought me some dinner and locked the door on me. I was stuck. It passed through my mind that I could have been duped. The Mayor could have called the authorities anyway to protect himself and I’d be stuck here until they took me. And I was also worried about William and Dutch. So it was difficult falling asleep. But I did, eventually. There was nothing I could do anyway but wait.

My worries were unfounded. In the morning, Dutch and William came by my room unchaperoned and we were allowed to walk around the town for a few hours before meeting with Mr. Stevens again after lunch.

One of the two bodyguards, George, told us that we could do whatever we wanted as long as we were back by 14.00. Again, he was very polite. We stepped out. This time it was different. There were people everywhere. Just like a normal town. It seems that we’d been certified “safe for conversation”.

As we walked down the street, people were curious. They came to chat with us and walk with us. They were very friendly and asked about our travels. We didn’t tell anyone about Mooney. One older couple joined us for a while.

“How do you pay for things here? Like food, or clothes,” I asked them.

“We trade,” answered Marty who was Nancy’s husband of thirty-four years. “We trade services and we give I.O.U’s. We call them U’s now, for short. You can trade them. Like I can give you three U’s from the carpenter in exchange for four U’s from the tailor. All negotiable of course. You’ll see also that we all grow our own food. You won’t see grass anywhere. We all have gardens. So food is traded too, though we also share a lot. Respecting U’s is very important and if you abuse the system, the penalty is exile, and nobody wants that, believe me. If there’s a problem, Mayor Stevens usually replaces a way to settle it. He’s very good with that. We’ve hardly ever had to exile anyone.”

“What if you don’t have anything to trade?” asked William. “Or you’re too old to do anything?”

“Everyone can do something. You can look after children or cook. There’s always something to do. Some ladies knit sweaters or hats, socks. Since the end of television, people get together and organize social activities. No one wants to sit around doing nothing at home. That’s just ridiculous,” said Nancy.

“Sounds a lot like money to me. How do you get power, energy?” asked Dutch.

“Solar, wind power, ethanol,” answered Marty. “We were lucky enough to have an engineer here who knows all about those and we sent out special patrols to other desolate places all around us to cannibalize their systems.”

“I see,” said William. “Any crime?”

“Very little. There were some mentally ill people who were violent, but very few. We kicked them out. There isn’t much out there, so people really, really don’t want to be tossed out. But we also have no other option.”

“What about the café back there? How do you pay for your coffee?” It would get complicated with too many IOU’s right? I asked.

“Jingles just does that for fun. He likes it. People help him out when he needs it. He gets his supplies for free. It’s not very complicated because no one is out to get you or have more than you. We don’t need anything. It’s not a clear science, we don’t use U’s for everything, and I’m sure we’ll straighten it out later on, but for now, it works just fine. You want to meet him?”

“Jingles? Sure.”

By the time we walked into the café, there were twenty of us. People had caught a

whiff of the excitement and were now following us, throwing out questions. They wanted to know what we’d seen, where we’d been. We didn’t have the good news they were hoping for. No help from the government or information about the rest of the world. We told them about our little island.

In the café we met Jingles, the owner or barkeep. He looked like a hippie Santa Claus, hence the name. His white beard was tied up and pulled over his shoulder; maybe to keep it out of the soup. He welcomed us happily and really did seem to enjoy cooking for others. We had a small snack. Chips with chili and dip. Delicious. And no charge.

“Just do something nice for someone else sometime,” he said. “I got everything I need.”

This place was amazing. While we ate, people milled around and talked and laughed. It felt very comfortable and we could’ve spent the whole day there, but we had an appointment so we said our goodbyes and headed back to the hotel.

“Everything seems to be going swimmingly so far,” said Dutch.

“Yeah,” answered William. “I keep expecting the other shoe to drop.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t worry too much,” I said. “This is how things should be. These people are genuinely happy, content. What do you make of Stevens? How was your session with him?”

“He asked me about my service record, probed my past all the way up until I met you. He was quite thorough. I told him about life on the island, how we came after you. How you convinced the crew of the Independence that they were wrong,” said Dutch and then he looked at William.

“Me too. I don’t think there’s any doubt that he believes us. It’s too complex a story to make anything up. The question is, what now?”

“Well, let’s go see,” I said.

And we walked up the stairs and through the doors.