To Those in the Future, Part 2

One month passed since the Ackerton family and their unwilling populace began living inside the shelter. Despite the unease at first, routine started to set in, and since there was no real reason to attempt to leave the shelter, especially with the surface covered in radiation, the public soon began to settle down. Though he was loath to admit it, John Malcolm felt the same way.

He had been assigned the rather unexciting job of washing the windows of the main dome, hooked to a harness that allowed him to slide across the entire dome both quickly and securely. He took to the job surprisingly quickly, and the menial nature of the task soon disappeared. The constant repetitive motion of sweeping the windows up and down put him surprisingly at peace, and while staring at the murky green water of the deep ocean was no replacement for the blue sky, it did allow him to clear his mind while he was working.

His mornings were early, as washing the windows was work that could easily take the whole day. He was not the only one washing of course, but even with a full team it still took six to eight hours to clean all the windows. Thankfully, he only had to work every other day, so admittedly it was better than most of the other physical jobs he'd had before.

He usually finished around mid-afternoon. Initially, he used this time to explore the shelter to see all the facilities available. The dome served largely like a town square, with hallways splitting off to the dorms, the cafeteria, the exercise gym, and the entertainment plaza. The entertainment plaza was easily the most popular area of the shelter, and guards frequently had to stand in front of the gates and rebuff new visitors if the place filled up to the point of danger.

Once he'd understood the lay of the land, John often spent his time after work eating at the cafeteria, then heading out to the entertainment plaza. There were a variety of different recreational facilities there, including even some for children, but John's favorite place was the dryly-named Ackerton Bar, which was home to all kinds of nightlife events and entertainment. There, he had become the friend of Julio Agassi, the star bartender, as well as the Ackerton Bar's biggest draw, the singer Martina Baldwin, who serenaded the worries of the adult public with cozy ballads and love songs.

Like John, Julio and Martina had long come to accept their lives in the shelter. Though the way they arrived was certainly anxiety-inducing, once they had come to terms with their new reality, they found that they didn't really have a better choice. They had heard rumors of the plan to search for a new planet, but believed there was no way it could work out. Compared to dying of radiation poisoning on the surface, they were happy to live even a semi-normal life underwater.

John would stay at the bar until about 8:00 pm, which he could only tell by the clock hanging above Julio's bar, as the “sky” above them changed little regardless of the time. He'd head back to his room, take a shower, then write about the day's events in a diary. To be honest, he had never been the type to keep something like a diary, but his surroundings lately were so bizarre that he couldn't help but feel the need to write it down.

Not that much of note happened on a day-to-day basis. Most of John's diary entries were often idle observations that came to him while window-cleaning or summaries of conversations he had with Julio and Martina. Even after a month, the diary spoke of nothing particularly interesting, but since it had become a habit, John did not feel compelled to stop.

Besides, despite the routine lulling him into complacency, John still never forgot how strange this whole situation was. This shelter was under the control of the Ackerton family after all, and they acted as much. If there was a delicacy put together by the chefs, the Ackertons got it first. If the Ackertons wanted to reserve a bar space for a celebration, it didn't matter if someone else had it reserved. The family acted like royals, and the rest peasants meant to serve their every whim.

Not that any of them had cause to complain. It was either this or get sent up to the surface, and after a month, not a single person wanted to contend with that possibility. Not to mention that the Ackertons had brought with them a force of thirty armed bodyguards, who were more than happy to do whatever the family wanted them to do. Even John, with all his reservations, knew he was better off inside than anywhere else.

And so, John spent his days in the same routine: work, bar, sleep. If he had a day off, he'd go exercise in the gym, so he wasn't spending all day drinking. Regardless of whatever he did that day, he always made sure to jot something down in his diary, even if it was completely inane. Some days, he felt as if it was the only thing that was actually keeping him sane.

One day, John open up his little diary only to find that he had run out of pages. With some surprise, he flipped through only to find that he had filled up all 200 pages of his diary, front to back. It was a small book, but even so, he was surprised by how quickly it filled up. He'd have to request another from the quartermaster at the first opportunity.

In any case, this meant that he had been stuck inside this shelter for over six months now, and despite his better judgment, he had started becoming comfortable with his life there. He worried about the possibility of the shelter running out of supplies, but to his surprise, it seemed as if the Ackertons were more thorough than he realized. They had plenty of supplies stocked up, and if it was something they could grow or manufacture, they had people doing it. People might have groaned initially about the lack of food diversity, but after a while, even those complaints disappeared as people grew used to the somewhat bland offerings of the cafeteria.

Thankfully, tomorrow was an off day for him, so as soon as he woke up the next morning he left his room and filled out a request sheet for a notebook from the quartermaster. Thankfully, there was a good number in the stores, so he was able to get one right away. He asked if he could get a second one, just so he wouldn't have to go a day without writing an entry, but he was rebuffed. There was nothing he could do about it, so he decided to just pay more attention when he started getting close to filling out his diary again.

That ended up taking less time than he expected, so he still had a whole day to himself. Normally, he would head to the exercise gym to keep his body moving, but he didn't really feel like sweating today. He decided to stroll through the shelter to see if anything was happening, but ultimately found himself in front of the Ackerton Bar as always. He looked up at the clock stationed in the middle of the street. It was just before noon, which was an embarrassingly early time to be visiting a bar. Nevertheless, he really had nothing else to do, and besides, he doubted Julio would judge him much over it.

In any case, the bar was completely empty, which made sense considering the time of day. There were a few of the staff running around cleaning tables and mopping floors, while Julio was at the bar cleaning glasses. Martina was sitting at the bar as well, nursing a martini in her left hand. She was already adorned in a glamorous dress with sequins, even though it would be hours before her usual patrons came in.

“Already getting some drinks in?” John joked with some surprise as he sat down next to the two of them. “Isn't it a little too early for that?”

Martina smiled wryly in response as she swept back her long dark hair. “Give me a break. I just spent all night entertaining some big wigs, and then crashed out before I could even get a single drink. I just woke up an hour ago, you know.”

“That explains the dress. But damn, those bigwigs must have been pretty important if they managed to get you singing the whole night.”

John had meant it as a joke, but Martina merely scowled bitterly in response. “They're leeches is what they are. They don't contribute to the shelter's maintenance, but because they're connected to the Ackerton family they act like they're kings.”

“So it was the Ackertons that were here last night?” John wasn't all that surprised. The Ackertons were easily the worst thing about living in the shelter, although he personally never had to encounter them much. They had made it clear that this shelter was largely for their convenience, and anyone who wasn't a part of that inner circle was essentially second-class. Having said that, so far none of them had done anything particularly egregious, so even this fact had gone largely ignored by the overall public.

John hadn't forgotten, though, and it was the one thing that left him uneasy about the overall situation. He had no problems with doing menial work in exchange for staying in the shelter, and did not plan to complain about it. However, this shelter essentially had no laws, and whatever rules were created for the sake of order were made by the Ackerton family and its associates. They were being relatively gracious now, but if they suddenly decided to switch things around and become a dictatorship, there wasn't much anyone could do about it.

For now, though, they a nuisance at worst, and a mild concern at best. They understood at the very least, that an unhappy public was not something they could contain. They had bodyguards and enforcers, but a raging mob could easily overcome them. For John, that was probably the only reason why they were being so charitable in the first place.

In the time that John had been ruminating over this, Martina had drained another martini, griping all the while. “I swear, if he runs his hand down my back another time, it'll come up a bloody stump! I don't care if he's the son of Paul Ackerton!”

“Whoa, whoa, what's this about?” John asked mostly out of curiosity. “Something happen with one of the Ackerton sons?”

“Yeah, what was his name? Michael Ackerton, the rat bastard! Every time he comes, he tries to put the moves on me. He's got nothing but his father's name, but he thinks he can do whatever he wants.”

“I did hear some shouting last night,” Julio remarked with a concerned frown. “That wasn't you, was it?”

“It probably was,” Martina said with a smirk. “The moment he tried to put his hands on me, I struck him right across the face and told him to get out!”

Julio groaned. “Why didn't you come get me? I could have had him leave without having to escalate things.”

“An idiot like him won't get it unless you get in his face about it. Don't worry, he won't cause trouble for the bar. It's his family's, after all, and he's too spineless to try and complain to his father about it.”

Julio could only respond with a sigh. “You're such a handful. You should count yourself lucky you have the voice of a songbird.”

“Come on. You know you love that about me.”

“As if.”

John chuckled. It was just another peaceful day, despite the strange situation. He simply had no way of knowing that it would not stay that way for much longer.