Chapter 22: Progress

The next morning, as Casey sat down at her father’s kitchen table, a wave of warmth and nostalgia swept over her. He had prepared all her favourite childhood dishes—scrambled eggs, pancakes, fresh fruit, and yogurt—every dish meticulously made, just as she remembered. It was a generous gesture, and though she no longer had the appetite for a big breakfast, she couldn’t bring herself to disappoint him. Their relationship, after all, seemed to be finding its way back to something like normal. So, she piled scrambled eggs on top of a stack of pancakes after finishing the fruit and yogurt, pushing herself to eat just a little more.

She was full after the fruit and yoghurt but kept picking away as they spoke. At first, it was a light conversation about the weather and the hours they had been working; then, it got a bit deeper as Casey talked about what they were doing to resolve the lysoid issue. 

Then they started talking in code. Casey wasn’t convinced they were being monitored, but she wasn’t about to take any chances. Hopefully, her father would catch the double meaning—though she wasn’t so sure.

“Ruth had some friends over last night. Graham and Conney, I think you know them,” Casey said, her voice careful.

Her father’s face softened, a sad smile playing at the edges of his lips. “Yes. We don’t spend much time together these days, but sometimes we meet for coffee.” There was an unspoken melancholy in his words.

“It was good to hear stories about the old days,” she continued. “How they still play those games you used to play. Did you and Mum ever play those?”

There was a long pause before he spoke as though the question had stirred a long-forgotten memory. “We did. We were competitive. But after your mother passed... I couldn’t bring myself to play anymore. I hoped you wouldn’t inherit that competitive streak.”

Casey smiled softly, a trace of mischief in her eyes. “Well, as you’ve noticed, I did. And I’m very eager to play. Do you think we could play some of those games together?”

This time, her father’s hesitation stretched even longer, but when he finally looked up, his eyes were bright, a genuine smile breaking through the years of sadness. “Yes, Casey. We can. I think... it’s time for me to wake up from the sleep I’ve been in since your mother’s passing. I’ll dig deep and find that competitive spirit again.”

Her heart swelled, he understood she was talking about the Alliance. “I’m so happy to hear that. There are so many old games I want to play, and I need your help to learn new ones.”

He nodded, the understanding between them clear. “I’ve got some games stashed away in the basement. Maybe tonight, we can go down there together and open them up?”

“I’d like that,” she said, her voice filled with anticipation. Then she hesitated, adding, “There’s someone from work I’d like to bring. A friend, new to town. He was at Ruth’s last night. Would it be alright if he came along?”

Her father’s eyes flickered with caution. “If you think he’s a genuine friend... sure.”

Casey understood his unspoken concern. Could Martin be trusted? She smiled and gave a reassuring nod. “He is.”

They finished their breakfast, talking through the little details of their day before clearing the dishes together. For the first time in ages, it felt like they were moving forward, like the chasm of grief was finally starting to close, that they could talk about 'real' issues and be open about the Alliance. 

Martin was already in the lab when she arrived. He told her how much he had enjoyed meeting Ruth and her friends and thanked Casey for inviting him.

As if he didn’t already know, she told him about what they had uncovered at Lysoid Stool, and that in a few weeks, once the filters had been fitted, the lysoid supply issue should be resolved.

“However, I think we should continue to investigate alternatives in case something happens in the future. Can you ask the legal team to investigate the feasibility of getting the colloidal silver from Australia,” she said

“Absolutely,” he said, eager to jump into action.

Before it was time for Casey's Taskforce duties, she had time to review more of Percy’s CMP journals. She intended to skip the journal on Climate Change, thinking it was unrelated to the immediate lysoid issue. But something told her to open it anyway. She was glad she did, as it was all about the need to set up climate-controlled towns to enable the protection of all the elements required for the membrane chemical pouches and the anti-aging drug.

Casey paused. Conney had mentioned that the lysoid issue was tied to climate change. The pieces were beginning to fall into place. If there weren’t filters, if there weren’t the daily sprays, survival would be impossible. The threads between climate change and their struggle with lysoid were undeniable.

She was deep into Percy’s notes, reading his concerns about forcing entire communities to live in climate-controlled environments where people were assigned roles to manage specific crops. He worried about the erosion of free will and the long-term consequences of such control. Before she could process it further, Kalan appeared.

Although disappointed she was pulled away from reading Percy’s journals, she couldn’t believe her luck when Kalan said, “I need you to come to Opium Stool with me. I need you to help me like you helped Tristan.”

Casey didn't need to say anything other than, “What's the coordinates?”.

Ten minutes later, she was standing in another luxurious cabin. This one was distinctly feminine—soft pastels, a bright red kitchen, and fresh flowers everywhere. It was a world apart from Tristan’s, but it felt like the same tension lingered beneath the surface.

Kalan quickly explained, “My father and Harold are concerned about the drop in productivity in Opium Stool. Harold’s noticed a lot of gatherings that seem to be unrelated to work. They want me to investigate and prepare a report by tomorrow on whether any action needs to be taken."

“What kind of action?” asked Casey, her brow furrowed.

“You know the drill,” Kalan said, voice flat. “They’ll send in the army to embed themselves in the regions and ‘help’ the community until things are resolved.”

“What sort of help?” Casey pressed.

“Oh, you know… mostly it’s just about reminding people of their responsibilities. Sometimes, though, if there’s been any siphoning of Opium, that’s a different story.”

Casey’s heart sank. “What happens to those people?”

“They go to rehab, obviously,” Kalan replied, her tone breezy.

After what Casey had been exposed to lately, she thought that was a naive response. But she didn’t say anything; she wanted to get into the community as quickly as possible.

“Okay, Kalan, I’ll need to familiarise myself with the Stool, then head out into the community. Can we go to your War Room?” she asked.

“Busy,” Kalan shouted. A human-robot, much like Closy but female, appeared.

Kalan explained, "We need a tour of the War Room," then asked Busy to organise a meeting for the leaders to gather together in the big shed. "Let them know we're coming," she said

​Casey hesitated. “Will you be coming with me into the community?”

Kalan didn't hesitate. “Of course. I like to check in every now and then and let them know I’m here if they need me. Plus, Harold gave me a speech to read to them.”

​Casey wasn’t sure how close Kalan was to her community. Kalan’s “checking in” felt detached, almost like an afterthought, but it was more than Tristan would do in his Stool.

“When you notify the leaders, could you tell them that Casey Pride will be accompanying Kalan,” said Casey, hoping the word would get to Ruth that she was at the Opium Stool

“I will,” responded Busy.

The War Room structure was the same as Tristan’s, but the landscape was very different. The Opium Poppies were grown in fields, surrounded by glass, like hot houses without roofs. She assumed it was so the crops were easier to monitor.

Casey wasn’t sure how this was going to work, having Kalan with her, so she was extra vigilant when arriving at the big shed.

When they arrived, it was clear this community was not the same as Tristan’s. Although they moved in a more casual way, they all, without exception, had a look of intensity on their faces, as if they were all going to speak at once, but no one spoke.

Kalan greeted them with a polite “hello” without looking at anyone in particular. She glided past them and walked into the shed. They automatically followed her, and she said, “Gather around everyone. We have a problem, and I want to update you on it.”

Production is down, and this puts our community at risk. It means that food supplies will be impacted, and your families may suffer. If you know why this is happening, could you please leave your name with Busy? We will do everything possible to ensure the problem is resolved and you are rewarded.

Casey was shocked; it was basically a warning to say pick up production, or we’ll reduce your family’s food supply.

Kalan seemed to think she had conveyed a thoughtful and considerate message; she followed it up with a “thanks everyone, nice to see you,” a wave of her hand, then to Casey, she said, “Let’s go”.

Casey’s response was surprisingly calm, considering, “Kalan, if it is okay with you, I’d like to stay and see if there isn’t something I can help the leaders with. Maybe Busy could pick me up in an hour or so.”

“If you think that would help, sure,” said Kalan.

With that, Busy and Kalan left the shed and drove off.

One of the leaders came up to Casey and said, “What bullshit.” Casey was cautious and smiled until another leader came over and asked her to come outside, which they all did.

Outside, he handed her the paper with the word SCRATCHEY on it. She looked up at him, then around at the others, all of whom looked angry.

“It’s safe to talk out here,” the one called Lenny said in a low voice.

“Do you know the situation?” she asked

“We’ve been told to stand down; that’s all we know,” Lenny's voice a whisper.

Casey told them what she knew, including the risk of acting until there was confirmation of whether the Calberras knew anything.

Casey listened as they debated. Their frustration was palpable. In the end, they agreed to increase production to avoid suspicion. But they still needed a cover story.

It was fortunate that Kalan hadn’t stayed, as this gave them time to work through scenarios. They eventually crafted a story: the adults had been taking time to learn the new equipment that was planned to arrive next month. They were now ready, and production would pick up again.

This helped to account for the number of informal gatherings and reduced productivity.

It was agreed that one of the leaders should explain this to Kalan rather than have Casey relay it.

Busy was hesitant to take Lenny back to the big house. So Casey contacted Kalan and explained that Lenny wanted to provide her with an explanation.

"That shows initiative, and what a good relationship we have," said Kalan excitedly. “Little did she know”, thought Casey.

Kalan bought Lenny's explanation, and Casey agreed to pull together talking notes for Kalan to use at her briefing session tomorrow. Kalan appeared to have no knowledge of any uprising, and hopefully, Harold's concerns would be eliminated after Kalan's briefing.