Zav ran his finger across the cube projector and slid his tongue across his upper lip. His eyes flashed to the young man to his left.
The man smiled and scooted out of his seat. “I guess that means I will go first!” he said, trading places with Zav, who seated himself and stared into the man’s eyes.
“Go ahead, Mr. Preston. Please our ears with your words,” said Zav.
Preston was short and thin but sharp. He had a trimmed, fuzzy beard and a soft moustache, all connecting to the fluff of hair on his head. He wore a black sweater with gray diamonds. “Thank you, my Superior Starr. I, as you all know, was chosen to lead the first quadrant of Chicago, located northeast of the tower.” Preston pinched the projection and zoomed to his fraction of the city. “Using the finest technology, we have been able to convert lake water into clean drinking water. The citizens have been most pleased by this feat. However, I have had to use this as a distraction from the newest rules being enforced by my guards.
“Because we are closest to the battlefront, which I will get to in a moment, we have enforced strict curfews, along with restrictions on civilian mobility. We have armed every person and given him or her sufficient shelter, and the freedom to work and generate profit as he or she sees fit. Thus, all can purchase rations from the food bank, but it is my job to keep them safe and that is why I have them so tightly secured.
“Since the Great Battle, there have been no casualties. There have been shots fired by lone wolves, which were later identified only as thugs, and so I congratulate my soldiers on keeping everyone safe. Our daily scavenges to expand our territory has been extremely successful. We come from a very aggressive stance, keeping no prisoners. We have been able to retake several buildings and increased our population through our refuge program.
“I claim myself Governor of the Authoritarian-Capitalist state,” concluded Preston, rubbing his fingers through his beard. He gave a small nod and sat down in the swivel chair at the front of the table, but pushed himself to the side to allow the next person to step forward.
Zav watched as Jaiyana stood up and adjusted the schematic to show the northwestern quarter of the city. She pulled an index card from her pocket and cleared her throat. “Thank you, Superior Starr, for granting me the opportunity to lead your people. I have taken a different approach to governing the people of Chicago. Likewise, we have all benefited from the public-works project of creating the water filtration system. Alternatively, we have completely changed the way wealth and food is distributed in our district. Unlike Mr. Preston, we do not have any individuals who go hungry at night because they have not been able to gather any sort of currency. Our society is crippled and it is now that we must work together – rations in my district are free of charge.
“Too many people have died already! We must help each other out. But we do not have to help the enemy. This being said, I have imposed strict military laws to ensure the safety of my people and the destruction of the enemy. We have heavily fortified the outskirts of our district, manning every weapon available. However, because I happen to have our Russian immigrants, I have not entrusted the common-folk with weapons. Considering the amount of refugees we have flooding into our city, I will not just hand them a weapon and assume they will cooperate. While crime may temporarily be low, there may come a time that people will use weapons for other reasons than fighting in the army.
“We have used every able-bodied person to form a state-run construction group, building and operating the necessities of the city. Everybody does his part, as is needed in a society to achieve the most progress. I announce myself Governor of the Authoritarian-Socialist state.”
Zav bit his lip at Jaiyana’s last sentence and closed his eyes momentarily. “I applaud you for being successful in running your city. I ask, since you did not use the projection during your presentation, what has been your block expansion and civilian intake?”
Jaiyana peered at Zav from the opposite corner of the table. “We have gained twenty-seven cubic blocks, and roughly nineteen thousand civilians.”
“And nourishment comes from the food bank located in your district, correct?” Preston asked. Zav scowled and squinted in Preston’s direction.
“Yes. And the food bank is operated by the state, with imported food from the factories.”
Zav held up his hand to silence the two bickering politicians and turned his attention to the next man. “Please, present your case, Mr. Oswald.”
“Thank you, Superior Starr. Success comes in all different forms: through power,” began Oswald, and he paused for a moment when he saw Zav twitch, “through heritage, and booming economies. But eventually, socialist societies collapse and people turn against one another, and fascist societies topple from the top down as power and wealth become too unequally distributed. We have learned that too much government is a bad thing, and too little government is also a bad thing. I have devised a system that is the perfect medium: a minarchy. People operate just fine without a government leaning on their shoulders.
“Allow me to explain further...you both run societies in which people look up and say, What is it that is demanded of me today? But what if people just do what they need to survive, without impeding others, and still in a formal manner – not collapsing into total anarchy, I mean. That is how I have run things. People are extremely satisfied. Hmm...how do I adjust the schematic?”
Zav reached out his hand and mimicked the pinching motion. Mr. Oswald showed the southeast corner of the city. “We have collected many people throughout the city, ensuring them that they will be safe under my, I mean our, reign. Many people are overjoyed at the concept that they can continue to practice their civil liberties, eat a full meal, and be protected. We have expanded, however slowly, across twenty blocks, and included over thirty-five thousand residences in our census. We have also reconstructed many factories and could, for the most part, be self-dependent if the central food bank failed. I proclaim myself Governor of the Libertarian state.”
Zav rubbed his hands together and nodded his head slowly. “Fantastic job. We all have our differences here, and it’s fantastic to see that everyone is finding a way to overcome the obstacles that life throws at us.”
Mr. Oswald sat down. He brushed his thumb across the bottom of his graying goatee and gave a soft smile.
Zav swallowed hard and turned himself to the last person. “Now, we would have our final presentation, but Miss Grant, before you go about with your discussion, I’d like to ask a few questions about your failed state.”
The woman in the final chair turned her head slowly in a furious manner and scowled. Zav locked eyes with her and gave a subtle smile.
“I have been able to read the statistics. The polls show that the people in your district are the most upset when it comes to political unity. Why do you feel the citizens of your state have not been able to cooperate with each other?”
The woman raised an eyebrow and placed her hands on the table. “Well, we cherish our diversity. Where particular people would not fit-in in the other districts, we welcome them here. That includes people with the inability to work or personal preferences for labor. We also encourage multiple viewpoints in group discussion, something the other sectors are unbelievably strict about. So it’s not that people are upset, but we are all different.”
Zav nodded his head slowly. “We’ve also seen the lowest productivity measures. Yet, we’ve seen the highest food consumption. Based on these numbers, I would name the people inside your district leeches. They feed off of the men and women in the other sectors who perform exceptionally in hopes that our state might progress.”
“Like I said previously, we take in a large number of people with different backgrounds. This can include people who were previously disabled or veterans who have been wounded in your endless, bloody combat. That means we have had no choice but to institute a welfare and hospitality program that ensures no American is left behind. I can’t imagine you’d want to disagree with humane effor
ts, Mr. Starr?” The woman said, starting to smirk slightly.
“Well, I know you’d like to believe you’ve pushed me into a corner,” Zav said, leaning forward and folding his arms in front of him. “How about crime? For the most part, you have established no form of police. I’ve used my own soldiers to protect your region. I’ve even sent a great number of weapons in recent shipments, and they seem to magically disappear. Oh, let’s see. I know damn well where it’s going.” Zav turned to face the rest of the politicians. “Despite the variations in your political practices, you all have performed exceptionally. Except for our friend over here,” Zav paused, glancing at Miss Grant, “who I know is doing most distasteful work, considering just yesterday I woke up early to the sound of an explosion in your district center from a misguided justice warrior with a bad temper. You have one more month before you’re punished for the indirect deaths of the civilians whom you fail to lead. Anyways,” Zav said, turning his attention back to his cheerful peers, “I would like you all to compile your data and submit it to me. We will see how you are doing economically, humanely, etcetera.”
Zav lifted his hands and gave the warmest smile he could muster under the pain of dehydration. It had been a long day without anything interesting; lots of walking, inspecting, talking, instructing, etc. Unfortunately, he had not had the opportunity to get anything to drink.
The three politicians left the room and the stout woman remained. She stood firm and pointed her index finger at Zav.
“Starr, you biased prick, you let those pigs run societies that allow people to die, and then look at me as if I expected a terrorist act to be performed in my district. What the hell on Earth can you say to justify yourself?”
Zav blinked and sighed. “I have much more important matters to attend to than your lousy political issues.”
The woman made a most gruesome expression and jabbed her finger at his nose.
Zav swatted away her finger and squinted. “You’re lucky that I don’t have the energy to respond to your behavior. You have one month to fix the shithole you created with your left-wing policies, or I will,” Zav paused, pondering. “Capital punishment. That always gets people to obey. Your crimes against the state will not go unaccounted for. Get out of my face.”
And with that, Zav rushed out of the room and entered the elevator, where the others had just arrived. He turned to face all three of them.
“I personally congratulate all three of you for running successful, yet different, societies. I am completely disappointed with that woman, but needless to say I expected her district to turn out entirely that way. There are many people, innocent people, who are dying every second because of the faulty political ideologies of this world. Hunger – terrorism – warfare – so many things that can easily be stopped!”
The elevator arrived at the twenty-eighth floor and the two right-wing spokesmen stepped out of the elevator. They bowed briefly to Zav before the doors closed, leaving him alone with Jaiyana.
They turned to face each other. Jaiyana stared into Zav’s eyes and leaned forward. She opened her mouth slightly and held her gaze. She spoke: “Xavier Starr. You have taken a crippled world and placed crutches under its shoulders. But you knew the crutch on the left would break, yet you decided to let it stand anyway. Why so?”
A soft shiver crawled up Zav’s legs, beginning in his toes and making its way to his back. He took a gentle breath in and raised his chin as if he were about to make an important statement. “Because if you give no crutch to the crippled at all, they will bicker that you have forsaken them. So you give them a crutch, and they are satisfied, until they realize their unnecessary argument had only hurt them when they lean forward and tumble to the ground on top of a broken crutch—”
Jaiyana raised her eyebrow and bit her lip. “So give the injured two right-hand crutches. Or a wheelchair,” she whispered, inching closer to Zav.
Zav shifted his head back, his chin tucked into the little fat on his neck. “Two right hand crutches cause only discomfort even though they are hypothetically stronger. Is there adaptability? Yes. But will it work immediately while the crippled cries? No. And, let me comment further: life is like healthcare – oh my! Too much like it. I can sit every person down in a wheelchair and roll them wherever I would like. But not everyone likes where I take them! And soon, heels are stuck in the ground and my progress is forfeited. Whether or not I am making the correct decision is unimportant; the importance of the matter is whether the crippled will comply, and so a happy medium must be reached. Understandable?”
“I still think the best way to have harmony in life is to find the perfect combination of Yin and Yang in politics. Sometimes, the collision of two opposing forces makes the best mixture.” Jaiyana pressed herself against Zav, her palms flat against the wall of the elevator, her lips colliding with his. Zav blushed and his eyes opened wide, and soon a warmth reclaimed his body from the cold that once engulfed him and he melted into her.
Jaiyana pulled away and stared at Zav. He stared back, words failing to exit his mouth. He blinked profusely and fumbled for the button for the twentieth floor.
“You enjoyed it. Expect more, Xavier,” she said quietly, and stood in the back of the elevator.
Zav awaited the opening of the doors, staring at the seam between the two sheets of pearly metal. A strange potion of emotions was building inside him, and anxiety began to rip at his muscles. He fell forward into the hallway as he reached his floor, and he turned briefly to Jaiyana to give her a quick wave, and galloped to his room. He swiped his key and swung open the door, sighing loudly.
His vision became fuzzy and his mind was full of pleasant thoughts: times when the world was not so chaotic. His feet tripped over each other as he tumbled to the couch, diving into the cushions like they were a pool. He swam, his arms pushing against the backrest and the bottom.
He pressed his face into the pillow until gray figurines danced in his eyes and his nose was flattened. His breath was hot and comfortable, heating his face and running down his neck.
The heat of the summer was fading and the days were slowly becoming shorter, cooler, and busier. It was mid-October, and about forty days since the first attack. Eventually, the hotel was going to need fuel to warm it, as solar energy would become less effective as days shortened, clouds darkened, and the demand for heat became increasingly relevant.
Zav rolled off the couch and bounced to his feet, the effects of the kiss wearing off. His mind was still buzzing with activity, and a thought came to him. Zav stared out his large window, the darkness of night covering and creeping through the city. “I am making history!” he exclaimed to himself, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
He made his way to the computer on the right side of the desk in the back corner of the room, opposite of the kitchen. He sat down on the odd-shaped chair; it looked sort of like an oversized and hollowed-out soccer ball. He turned on the computer and hummed to himself as it lit to life.
He swiped at the air just in front of the monitor: the computer itself was the size of tennis ball – but the shape of a dodecahedron – and the monitor was a projection on the wall.
He opened a text document and eyed up the layout of the application.
Zav cleared his throat. “Today, October 16th, 2057, marks the forty-sixth day from the collapse of the American society. I have decided to sit down and write about my story because I am the face of the new world, and I only see fit that the future generations know the life I lived and the world around us. I will begin by telling about myself as much as I might, so that children might have an easier job of writing biographies of me when they must describe the fifty-fourth president of the United States of America…
The words came to a halt as Zav paused to think about what he had just said. Was he really writing so that one day children could read his autobiography? Or was it deeper...was it his fear that one day, possibly soon – given the circumstances and condition of the city – he might die and become irr
elevant? Was it the fear of being forgotten?
“My name is Xavier Starr,” said Zav, staring off at the wall as he spoke. “I was born twenty-one years ago in a Michigan hospital. I moved with my mother and father to a small town in Wisconsin, where my father worked as a lawyer. When I was nine, he was killed in a car accident. My mother took me to Indiana and raised me. I continued through my education, living life as an underappreciated teenager until I attended college at Purdue University. Great college, by the way.
“I had a good friend named Ivan. He was the smartest, thinnest Russian you could meet. We became great friends after many nights of playing poker and beer pong. One day, we were enjoying a night out at a bar when everyone began gathering around the television. I did too. And isn’t it crazy how reading simple text can change your life forever?
“This was the moment I found out that the United States had engaged in all-out nuclear war with Russia. They sent their fastest jets, strongest troops, and smartest generals at each other...and the world around them watched as they killed each other off. Weeks and weeks of fighting – and no winner! But I will explain further as I get to that part of the story.
“Ivan and I fled to the great city of Indianapolis, where he was killed in action. I then met up with a scrawny old man named Lynyrd, who took me to a small group of misfits named the ‘Outlaws’. We engaged in combat with a rival group. Seeing the threat of the rival gang’s existence, we retook the city and I was rightfully crowned the leader. But a smart leader knows when to prosper and advance himself!
“I continued my journey to Chicago, meeting many people along the way. So many personalities, so many inspiring people! Such memories to be made, stories to be told, so many ideas and people who are now lost to history. I am the last pen to write their tales on paper and I am doing so currently. Even if there were others, they would have no way to get the story out. But tonight’s description will be on the world around us...teachers, stop reading now and test the students on my background. Thank you.
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