First Plans

The three young men of the Astronomy club sat around the table, deep in thought. After combining their respective versions of the situation, and pairing it with the information found online thanks to their satellite dish, their understanding of the situation around them turned very somber, very quickly.

After some consideration, Andrew’s face beamed with conviction, and he jumped up from his seat, no doubt getting ready to give a speech. However, Clement’s hand lowered on his shoulder before he could start.

“We should do this with everyone present.”

“Party pooper,” Andrew chided him, “I had such a good idea on how to start this, too.”

Evan, however, had his doubts. “Will it benefit anyone, if we tell them? They can’t help us in any way, and they’ll just get unnecessarily stressed. Don’t they need to rest, especially Eliza with that concussion of hers?”

Clement started to answer, but Andrew cut him off.

“It’ll benefit us - we’ll feel good about ourselves for telling them the entire truth. Plus, we are all members of this club, and all have the right to make decisions on behalf of the collective.” Applying what he had learned to do and not to do yesterday, Clement nodded along, showing his full support to that idea.

Evan shrugged: “Well, if this is a democracy, then you two outvote me. Hurry up, though, we’ll need to act fast if we are to snag any resources.”

The three of them walked in on a very touching scene - Jean was reading a book - their ancient copy of Plato’s Republic - to Eliza, half-sitting at the foot of the couch and covered with a blanket. 

“The heaviest penalty for declining to rule is to be ruled by someone inferior to yourself!” she quoted from the book. This mutual understanding between the two probably came out of a combination of Jean’s boredom and Eliza’s desire to read but vague understanding that she should not exert her brain so soon after a concussion. Clement almost felt bad interrupting them, so he let Andrew do as he saw fit.

As usual he got straight to the point: “Ladies, like we discussed yesterday, social and political order in our town has completely collapsed.” They turned around and faced him, showing that they understood, but did not speak, so Clement explained: “To put it briefly, several mostly self-serving factions have been fighting for power since last night, and have completely divided the town among themselves. In light of this, we should start acting as soon as possible, so I ask that you follow along as best as you can, and ask for details if you don’t know something that we discussed.”

The four now looked at him, awaiting some sort of speech. Once again, though, he chose to redirect the effort onto Andrew first. “Andy here had something to say, but I rudely interrupted him and dragged him here to say it in front of you all instead. Go right ahead.”

Andrew nodded, stepped aside from them to be able to see everyone’s face, and began his speech: “Brothers, and sisters! We came here expecting to spend some time in each other’s company, and wait for the situation to blow over, like a game of pretend.” Recognizing that his situation wasn’t unique, especially to the injured Jean, he clarified: “Or, at least I did. But now we can all see that there will be no resolution without outside influence. They are saying the end of the world is in a year, but if this continues there won't be anything left to end within the month. The games are over. I suggest looking into alliances, confirming the safety of our families, and gathering supplies, no matter the method.”

Everyone clapped. Andrew had summarized the situation and goals so well that they did not feel the need to give speeches of their own. Instead, they exchanged information about the whereabouts of their families: Jean passed, Evan’s was on the Christian Republic’s territory, Clement’s split between Calgary and the Mansion district, and Andrew’s in the easily accessible. Even Eliza, for whom Clement was particularly worried, had received confirmation that her parents were alive and well, having passed through the General Hospital into the Mansion District. It was decided to use the truck to quickly scout out each group and try to get to know more about them, in the meantime gathering everything useful they could get out of Clement’s house, visiting the hunting stores, the pharmacies, the grocery stores, and checking on Andrew’s family. Clement thought it would be smooth sailing from there, but a fierce debate erupted over the last part of Andrew’s speech.

“We should use the supplies left in the school. It’s not gonna open in September anyways.” Andrew proclaimed.

Clement disagreed: “I have resolved myself to follow the law, no matter the cost, following this morning’s events.” The rest quickly assumed their positions behind either of the arguments: Evan wanted to take the 3D printer too, Eliza firmly backed the more moral side, and Jean sat still with an expression of absolute resignation on her face.

Clement went on the offensive: “Breaking in would be a betrayal of the custodian’s trust - if he knew what we would do under the slightest pressure, he wouldn’t have given me the key to use the washrooms while I stayed here.”

“We don’t have to use your key,” Andrew parried, “We can just get in through a window. Plus, do you really think the custodian is gonna come back to the school given what’s going on in the town?”

“They’re gonna re-establish order eventually. Once the military gets here, all those Assemblies and Republics are toast. And that’s when they will start asking who broke into the school. And they won’t mess around anymore, given what being lax on crime has turned this town into overnight.”

“Do you have any proof of that? I bet the military just wants to go home and spend the last year with their families like we do.”

Clement could offer no such proof, but Eliza spoke up in his defence: “We have enough food to last us more than a week. In the worst case, we could raid the school garden and blame it on rats or squirrels. That pulls us closer to two weeks. And imagine just how much more we can get from Clement’s house, your house, and the remaining pharmacies, bakeries, restaurants…”

“And if we don’t? Imagine they lock down the entire city and don’t let anyone in or out anymore. And then the military doesn’t show up, because, let’s be honest, what proof do we have that they haven’t collapsed?” Clement frowned at this rehash of his previous argument.

“We could check the outskirts. Plus, what you’re describing is the absolute worst case scenario. There’s no way it would get that bad without at least some warning signs.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed. “What I’m describing isn’t even CLOSE to the worst case scenario,” he cried out, “the worst case scenario is that some of those rioters, or republicans, or police, or whoever the hell come up here right now and KILL US for our meagre resources.” He slammed his foot onto the ground, causing everyone but Jean to flinch. A grave silence filled the room.

Seeing that this had an effect, he continued: “If we are to survive the next year, there will be many moral challenges ahead. If we keep sitting around and crying over every one of them like this, we will not survive. I’m sorry, but that’s just how it works. Steel your nerves and do what you must to survive.”

Clement shifted from one foot to the next, and looked his friend in the eyes:

“I understand your intent, but I cannot reconcile myself with the method. If you have the others’ support, do what you must, but I will have no part in it. I’ll go drive around town.

Andrew nodded: “Good. You need to calm your nerves and get a proper reality check. See what you can get legitimately out there.”

“I’d help out,” Eliza said behind him, “but you know my pitiful condition.”

“Just get some rest. Organize this place a bit if you feel like it.” said Clement, and ran down the stairwell, very disappointed with his friend.

“We’ll see if he’s right,” he said, turning the keys to his truck.”