The Brave New World - 166 The View From The Top

Kirk Lander was standing at the window of his office located on the top floor of a small building that had previously been occupied by a bank. The bank in question didn’t exist any more; only a handful of banks had survived into the third month of 2035. The building’s owner was only to happy to lease it to the new colonial government at a rock-bottom rate.

The government would have gotten an even better deal in one of the monumental skyscrapers that dominated the San Francisco skyline. Offices located above the fifth floor were being given away free of charge! The only thing the owners asked for was that the new tenant pay a share of the utility bill. But strict electricity rationing meant the elevators weren’t working, and no one felt like climbing endless flights of stairs.

The building Kirk was in had been built nearly a century earlier. It had a wide, central staircase that had been actually built for everyday use, and it was only three stories high. It had plenty of wide windows that let in a lot of light, and all of its walls were brick. It was warm in cold weather and would stay cool when the summer heat arrived. Kirk had selected it personally after a two-day search. He was permitted to do that as the governor of California.

He hadn’t wanted to set up office in San Francisco’s town hall. San Francisco’s town hall was a fortress continuously besieged by a horde of supplicants. It required a couple of hundred cops and a similar amount of soldiers to be present at all times. Otherwise, the angry crowd would have started a riot.

“We need more people,” Adam Lander said again.

“I heard the first time,” Kirk said without turning around. “We can’t hire any more staff, and you know why.”

“Yes. We have to be self-sufficient, and make enough money to cover costs. And that’s exactly why I think we have to increase the daily quota of licenses we sell. More licenses mean more money.”

“But they’re all paying us with old money, Adam,” said Kirk. “Wages and bills have to paid in the new currency.”

“We could put a premium on the extra licenses. It would be payable in the new currency only. No coin? Then you’ll just have to wait your turn. It only makes sense.”

“We are not going to do that, Adam,” Kirk said firmly. “One colonizer and twenty colonist licenses per day. That’s the absolute maximum. We won’t go beyond that. If we do, we’ll be quickly faced with chaos we cannot control.”

Adam shook his head.

“I’m really surprised, Dad,” he said. “Your views seem to have changed a lot. I mean, you were always for making everything available to everybody. No limits, no restrictions of any kind.”

“He likes you.”

“And I intend to keep things that way. He’ll stop liking me pretty fast if bad shit happens, son. You heard about Maryland and New Jersey and Pennsylvania?”

Adam shrugged.

“Just a rumor there’s trouble in some states,” he said.

“It’s not just a rumor. And ‘trouble’ doesn’t describe it. The National Guard in New Jersey ran out of ammunition, Adam. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“It tells me they were issued with a lousy couple of clips apiece,” said Adam. “They’d use that much up firing warning shots into the air. But yeah, I did hear things are hairy.”

“Hairy? I was on the phone with Carlton this morning. Over a thousand dead just yesterday!”

“In the New World?”

“In our world, Adam. In the New World, it’s tens of thousands every day. That’s a major factor behind all the rioting. I don’t want any of that happening here.”

Adam sighed.

“Well, in New World Frisco we do have a couple of dozen colonists coming in each day, and begging for help,” he said.

“You see? And you want to increase the daily license quota. Where is the sense in that?”

“But we need money. You know how much they’re charging for a single kilowatt hour? A full dollar! In the new currency!”

“So we use less electricity. Work by daylight, manual typewriters, carbon copies whenever possible. That’s why I chose this building. Plenty of light, and comfortable stairs.”

Adam still looked unconvinced. Kirk walked up to him and put his hand on Adam’s shoulder, and added:

“We’ve just started minting coins. We’re minting them left, right, and center. We control two government mints in the New World: one in your capital, one in mine. Debbie, Karen, and Bernard are building mints in the colonies, too. And we have yet another mint right at home. Karen and Hank are running it. Hank told me he got at least a couple of tons of good scrap. Give it time, Adam. Give it time. It’s the sixth of March for chrissake, it hasn’t even been a full week. Everything will get straightened out by the end of the month, you’ll see.”

“As long as we have enough to pay all the fucking bills,” said Adam.

“It’s that job you used to have. It has made you obsessive where money is concerned.”

“Being the president of an investment fund involves thinking about money a lot,” said Adam. “It’s a habit. It doesn’t necessarily make me obsessive. Anyway, let’s drop that. It doesn’t lead anywhere. Did you get the chance to look at the list of the governors in my region?”

“I did. We’ll have to make some changes. But not now. Down the road, when things have settled down.”

“I agree with the changes. There is a lot of placeholder governors in there. I mean, Kissy Lambert!”

“Kissy Lambert? I missed that one. Who is she?”

“She’s a porn star, Dad. Not even a big one, either. But she’s the only celebrity in that doohickey town she comes from and people admire her. They want to work with her, not against her. She’ll do for a couple of months, until everyone figures out she’s about as intelligent as a doorknob.”

“Nice,” said Kirk. “Your own?”

“No, I heard someone use that expression to describe a newly hired guy. You know, back in the old era. Listen, I have to go now. I have a meeting with Ken Sharp, Vallejo district governor.”

“Ken Sharp? That sounds good.”

“He isn’t. He ain’t as advertised. He can’t do a thing on his own, and he’s as sharp as a tire iron. He’s yet another guy that I’ll be replacing in the future. Anyway, see you later. You still driving down to the house tonight?”

“Most definitely,” said Kirk.

“Then let’s go together. I’ve already burnt almost half a tank of gas. The mileage on that thing is just ridiculous.”

“It’s an army vehicle,” said Kirk. “Armed forces never gave a fuck about conserving fuel. I’ll be leaving around five. Can you make it?”

“Sure. I’ll be there.”

Adam left, and Kirk walked up to the window again and resumed gazing at the world outside. The world outside was currently bathed in slanting, afternoon sunlight: it looked beautiful.

Kirk Lander had elected to have his office located on the northern shore of the entrance to San Francisco Bay. It wasn’t in San Francisco proper, but it corresponded exactly with the location of Kirk’s capital in the New World. It had the extra advantage of shortening the distance he had to drive to get to his home in the Napa Valley.

There were also many other advantages to this location. It was sparsely inhabited, and applicants for a colonial license that came from the city had a long way to go. By the time they got to the office and had waited for a while in the lineup, they were too tired to cause trouble upon learning that yes, their name had been put on the list, and they would receive their colonist’s license and an implant kit in four months’ time.

Kirk Lander didn’t need a small army to keep the peace, like the guys down at the city town hall. A couple of local cops were enough. There were never more than twenty people in the lineup. By late afternoon, there were no more than five: Kirk couldn’t see a single person from his window. The street was empty and silent.

No! Something was approaching from the direction of the bay. Kirk narrowed his eyes, and something took the shape of a man pushing a handcart. As he drew closer, Kirk saw that he was wearing a shabby overcoat and that the handcart was empty. He couldn’t see the man’s face, it was hidden under the wide brim of a floppy hat.

The man came to the corner across from the former bank building, and stopped. He raised his head and Kirk saw that he was young, much younger than Kirk had expected him to be. He hadn’t shaved in days and his mouth was half-open in a grimace of misery. He seemed to be looking directly at Kirk; then he looked down, to his right, then to his left, almost as if he were checking for traffic.

Left, Kirk thought; turn left. Turning left would bring the man to the local diner, whose kind-hearted owner always had a free cup of soup for people in need. Kirk clenched his hands into fists, willing the man to turn left.

He didn’t. He turned around and went the way he came. Why? What was the point? Was he going to drown himself in the waters of the bay?

Kirk felt his eyes prickle with incipient tears.

“Ah, fuck it. Fuck this shit,” he said, turning away from the window.

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