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Narrative

When the Answers Are Not Good

Brenda Redmond was in the residence module lounge, going over notes for tomorrow’s lesson plans while her children studied. At least the kids were pretty well occupied, but the educational software they were using required both speed and accuracy to score, which pretty much ensured engagement. Staying focused on lesson planning was a lot more work.

And then her phone chimed incoming text. She looked, saw it was from Drew. Got some news.

The kids are here. Want to FaceTime?

No. This needs to be private.

Brenda’s gut knotted. Whatever Drew had to say, it was not good news. OK, we can text.

You were wanting to find out about the rumors of gangsters in the inner cities setting themselves up as warlords, seizing food shipments and using them as weapons of control. It took me some time to make the necessary connections, but apparently there is some truth behind the rumors. I’m not sure how widespread it is, but apparently there was an incident on the south side of Chicago. Two food trucks hijacked on the way to a local supermarket. Dominicks, I think they said.

I’m not too familiar with Illinios, but I think Dad mentioned that name from a time he was stationed up in that area, back in the Energy Wars. So what happened with the food trucks?

Apparently the local gangstas set up their own little food distribution system, giving the food to people who’d kiss up to them. At least until they discovered the drivers on the next set of trucks were armed. Apparently there was a shootout on the inbound Ryan, or maybe one of the get-off ramps from it. Latter’s more likely for an ambush.

Yikes! How did they keep that off the news websites? I know Autumn checks at least three Chicago news stations on a regular basis.

Apparently they’re keeping it quiet while they find someone with the authority to send the National Guard in to clean things out. I’ve got rumint about similar situations in Detroit and LA, but no details.

Brenda paused to consider the implications of the first part. She was familiar with posse comitatus, if only because of the NASA Massacre, back in the Energy Wars. There were still conspiracy theorists out there who were convinced the Federal government had faked the evidence of the terrorists’ international ties to avoid having to court-martial Gus for leading Air Force police into Johnson Space Center.

But if the Illinois state government had broken down so badly that they couldn’t get someone to authorize the use of National Guard forces? She really wished she was more familiar with Illinois, but she’d been born and raised in Texas, and all her civics courses had focused on what went on in Austin, with a little nod to the other forty-nine states. She did know that the Illinois capital was Springfield, a much smaller city in the middle of the state, but she had a vague sense that a lot of the business of the state government got done in Chicago, and it provided most of their governors.

Hadn’t there been a governor who considered Springfield such a hick town that he wouldn’t even live in the Governor’s Mansion, and commuted from his home in Chicago? If the current governor took that attitude, would he be more likely to catch the diablovirus than if he lived full-time in Springfield?

There were so many questions, and far too many answers, and she doubted Drew would know much about Illinois state government. He’d been raised in New England — not surprising, given Alan Shepard was from New Hampshire — so most of his on-the-ground knowledge was from that area.

So there wasn’t much to do but chat a little. Some talk about the implications, but more just winding down the conversation, assuring each other they were well, that things in their respective settlements were remaining on an even keel, no matter how crazy things might be going on Earth, or how uncertain things were in Schirrasburg. No, Drew hadn’t had any contact with anyone from there. Things were being kept pretty tight right now, everyone staying in their spacecraft or suited up if they had to interact. Not necessarily full EVA gear, but still a pressure suit, with all the protection that implied.

Brenda was a little reluctant to have to say good-bye to Drew. However, she knew he would have work to do, and she still had some of her own she needed to finish.

All the same, she suddenly felt very lonely when she drew the conversation to a close. It seemed forever since that last night he was able to come up here to their apartment, to share a bed.