Reboot

All three of us were sitting across from Mayor Stevens. He was alone. I could tell, now that I paid attention, that the desk was made especially for Stevens. It was higher than normal so he could fit his legs under it. The room was large too. High ceilings, big windows, even the door was larger and taller than usual. From far away, he looked normal. Then, as you came closer to the desk, you felt more and more tiny.

He was frowning.

“So what do you boys propose we do about this little bomb you just dropped on me?” He began. He looked at all of us, one after the other and stopped at me. “You realize that the safety of the people here is my first and only priority right? I can’t let you do anything to endanger these people. I have to tell you that I gave serious thought to handing you in to the authorities to ensure this. But I couldn’t do it. If Mooney did what you say he did, he has to pay. So I’ve decided I want to help.”

I looked down and thought about how to word this correctly. This was sensitive. Where was the lunch? I was secretly happy about those chips and dip.

“Everyone needs to know what Mooney did. But as you’ve seen, he’s sent out sensors everywhere. We agree that we have to be careful not to put your people in danger. So we were thinking of a broadcast. Radio. Pirate radio.”

“Yes. That was my conclusion too. You can’t do it from here. They’d trace it back to us. We have to set you up somewhere else. I suggest Eugene. Nobody there,” he said simply. “They’ll eventually send someone snooping around here of course, but we’ll just deny everything. You’ve never been here.” We nodded. He stood up and rumbled around his desk to be closer to us. He leaned on it. “I can send a couple of guys with you to help out. You can trust them. They’ll show you where the radio station is and how to get it powered up. You’ll need to connect a generator. These guys can help you with that. People listen to the radio a lot. It’s coming back stronger now. People are putting on shows and playing music. News, of course comes on. Mooney sends his weekly messages by radio.”

“That sounds like a reasonable plan, thank you sir,” I said.

“How does tomorrow sound? That gives you a day to enjoy our town and get ready”. He replied.

“Sounds perfect!”

“Great! Let’s meet here at 7am tomorrow morning then. Have a nice time today. You can go talk to Jingles about Eugene. He’s been there. He can answer your questions.”

He ushered us out and we faced the harsh afternoon sun with nothing to do.

Standing in the dusty street, we looked at each other, kicked a few pebbles around. And then sort of wandered towards Jingles’ place. It was an old style diner, like from the 50’s with metal stools, but it wasn’t that old. It had been built that way because the previous owner had thought it a cool retro design, sometime around the 2010’s. I was hungry. We all were. When we walked in, Jingles welcomed us like we were old friends. In fact, people were so friendly that it was giving me the willies.

“Hello boys, nice to see you again, what can I do for ya?

“Hello Jingles. Can we have three lunches and a bit of your time?” I asked.

“Absolutely, sit over there in the booth by the corner. I’ll be right over with it.” The place was empty. He brought over three plates of chicken and mashed potatoes and sat down. Lord, it was delicious. Real potatoes.

He settled down next to us on a chair by the booth. “Mayor Stevens told me you’d be wantin’ to discuss something with me”.

“Yes. We’re going to Eugene tomorrow and Stevens said you could tell us all about that place. He said it’s empty. How did that happen?” William asked.

He got serious, wiggled in his chair and frowned. It was obviously a subject he didn’t want to talk about. But he sighed and began: “I’m from there. I was born there sixty-five years ago. It’s, or it was known as Emerald City. Lots of trees. An outdoorsman’s paradise. Beautiful town, great people. All gone now.”

“Can you tell us how it happened? No bombs were dropped anywhere near there,” asked Dutch. Jingles sighed again. “Unlike here, Eugene opened its doors to everyone. People poured in from three neighboring states. Many were sick. Thousands of people begging for food and care. Too many, too many.” He paused a bit here.

“The hospital was swamped. There were beds everywhere, even outside under tents. There weren’t enough doctors. They did the best they could of course, but for many… they died and died and died… People started running off when the plague set in.”

“The plague? My God!” exclaimed William.

“Where did they go?” I asked.

“Most of ’em went north to Portland using the 5, plugging it up real good. Don’t go that way, you’ll never get through. Some came here. But we didn’t let them in. It was horrible. People were screaming to be let in, crying and begging. We really couldn’t because they might have been sick. We’d all be dead now if we’d opened the doors. We had to shoot some people. Really, we did, we had to. It, you know, became intolerable. They were screaming day and night. What can you do? Most eventually gave up and left. We don’t know how it went elsewhere. If they carried the plague to other towns, Portland… Anyway, people here have had to witness some horrible things. Many wanted to let them in. Stevens stood firm. I suppose he was right. We survived, but there is a deep wound everywhere.”

“We’ve noticed that there is … something odd here,” I said.

“Yes. That’s it. Too friendly, like? Yes. It’s compensation for that guilt. Damn, we had to burn the bodies to be sure about the plague. The stink…”

“So Eugene is empty now. Is it safe?” asked William.

“Sure, sure. It’s been empty for months now. We go once in a while to look for stuff. Like solar panel, grow lights, generators. They have a giant store there full of hardware and other supplies. There’s no food left of course. I don’t suppose you want to tell me why you’re going there.”

“Well it’s a long story, but you’ll know soon enough.” I smiled at him.

“Why is it that I’m not looking forward to it?” We smiled.

There was no point and discussing further so we left. We thanked him profusely for the delicious meal. His answer was “Just don’t ask me what’s in it.” He wished us good luck. Real warmth there…

We decided to tour the town. It wouldn’t take very long.

We had seen the “downtown area”, which was just main street and about five hundred meters long. Now we went to the outlying residential part.

As we walked, people joined us again, talked a bit and moved on; kids ran around us, kicking up dust. We saw people outside working on their gardens. Every single house had one and they were often quite full and creative. Many were multi layered vertical gardens, designed to pack as much food per square meter as possible. Parks were full of fruit trees and communal vegetable gardens. After discussing with them, we learned that it wasn’t to save space, there was plenty of that; it was to make the gardens more efficient, easier to work on. People smiled and waved. Felt like Norway, or Canada.

We saw a garage with people working on a car. I thought that was weird but we walked on.

“Why are they working on cars? There’s no gas. Ethanol maybe?” I said.

“Maybe it’s a hobby. Or planning for the future? They’ll get to work on gas again sooner or later,” said William.

“How difficult is that by the way? How do you make gas?” asked Dutch.

“More importantly, is it a good idea? We finally got rid of all that. It took a nuclear war. Should we go back to it when we can clearly do without oil?” Said William.

“Gas is basically distilled crude oil. Then they refine it with additives. You get different types of fuels, oils, lubricants at different distillation levels. I translated a text about it once. It’s not so hard. What’s left at the end is the solid muck that becomes tar and asphalt.” I kept walking, looking at the ground.

Dutch and William looked at each other, eyebrows up.

I continued. “You know, this could work. We keep things small. Small towns like this one. That seems to work. Some towns will have surpluses in one thing or another and trade will begin. I think it’s inevitable that we’ll end up along similar lines of development, but at least we have a chance to start off again with some ground rules: free energy, free education, free healthcare and free care for the elderly. We go strong on science. We’ll need some transportation system between these cities. Maybe an above ground solar powered high-speed train or something similar. Cars are ok, but should be for fooling around near the towns. Simple enough?”

“Makes sense to me,” said Dutch. “I like to drive, so I’d like to keep that.”

“Well ok then, we’ve solved the world’s problems. Next topic,” I said.

“Best boat,” went Dutch.

“Oy, that’s a tough one. The Molly Aida.”

“What the hell is that?”

“Remember Fitzcarraldo? When that crazy guy moved a steamship over land? That one. It had personality that ship. It had emotion.”

“Ok you get points for knowing the name of the boat. But I think the Nautilus is better.”

“It’s a submarine. Doesn’t count. And it’s just a weapon.”

“Sure it does. It’s a boat. And it’s not just a weapon, it was an expression of human ingenuity and innovation.”

“Ok Robert, you decide. Nautilus or the Fitzcaraldo one…?”

“The Pequod.”

(awkward silence)

“Damn, that’s a good one too. A nuance of strength, Captain Ahab’s discreet perch, a conduit for hate. Ok point to Robert. But it’s ok, he’s far behind,” said William to Dutch.