by Scott W Cook
“What do you mean?” Tony asked. He’d let me go and I went over to gulp down some of my drink.
The man only shook his head, “You heard. People – civilians – are being sold as slaves. Well, women, really. And that’s not all.”
“What else?” I asked, a knot forming in my stomach.
“Just walk down to Malory square at sunset,” the bartender replied quietly, “I can’t talk here.”
“Okay,” Sam said, “thanks. Let’s go.”
“I don’t know that I want to see any more,” I said as we walked up Green toward Duvall Street, “I’m getting a bad feeling about this.”
“Me too,” Tara said.
Andy nodded, “So what would we have paid for the drinks with? They’re not still using money, I’d think, right?”
Tony looked at Sam and then at me, “I don’t think paper money is of any value now. From what we just saw back there, it seems like people are trading in other commodities.”
“Slaves,” I said angrily.
“For one,” Sam commented, “Maybe alcohol, food, supplies… sexual favors… work details… it’s a whole new world.”
“Yeah,” Tara spat, “but why does it have to be a fucked up world? I mean, all we’ve seen, especially over the last few days, is the worst in humanity. Why is it that only the shittiest people seem to have come through the apocalypse?”
We were silent for a while. Tara had hit on something that I think we’d all been wondering. I know for certain that Sam has. He’s posed that very question more than once.
“It’s not humanity’s worst,” Sam offered, “We aren’t. That bartender isn’t, or at least is trying not to be.”
“Yeah…” Tara said, “But then they end up as slaves or servants or like… concubines or whatever those two girls were back there. It’s still the assholes that are in power.”
Sam frowned, “Maybe. We’ll see.”
I could feel how tense he was. After all, Sam knew the people running the show down here. I think he wanted to believe that they were still basically decent. Stand up naval and marine officers who stood for what’s right.
Yet what little we’d seen already didn’t support that claim. At best Admiral Banks turned a blind eye to what might be going on around here. At worst, it was his idea.
As we neared Malory square, we could see people milling about. Nothing unusual there. For as long as anyone could remember, sunset at Malory dock was a huge nightly event in Key West. Street performers would gather on the huge pier and locals and tourists alike would congregate to watch the Cat Man, the sword swallower and a whole variety of musicians and magicians and whatever else you could think of.
As we moved through the crowd, not nearly as thick as it would’ve been when the world was whole, we did in fact see some of that. There was a guy playing guitar, a trio of percussionists and even the famous sword swallower was getting set up and drawing a crowd.
“Kind of like old times,” Sam said with a grin.
“What’s that?” Andy asked, pointing toward the south end of the dock.
We turned to where he indicated. Just near the stern of the huge aircraft carrier, there was a large structure set up on the dock. It was a steel frame about ten feet high and maybe forty feet on a side. There were several uprights supporting the sides and one or two going across the top.
“Some kind of pre-fab building?” Tony offered in confusion.
“I guess…” Sam said thoughtfully, “Let’s get closer.”
We moved down the dock and as we got closer, we could see that the frame was walled in by chain link and had a door on one side. There was already a crowd gathered around and we saw that a small platform was set up adjacent to the cubicle.
“Hey!” A man called from off to our left, “Don’t forget to get yourself a cocktail before the show!”
He was leaning out of a stand with the words Beer, Cocktails and Snacks printed on the edge of its roof. He were civilian clothes and was waving at us.
We paused for a moment and then Sam shrugged, “Why not?”
He led us over to the snack stand, “I’m afraid we don’t have any money, friend.”
The man narrowed his eyes, “Of course not! What good is paper money now? What about your credit account, though?”
Sam looked as confused as I felt.
The guy smiled, “New?”
“Yeah,” Sam replied, “Just arrived this afternoon. Met the Admiral and then went over to the Conch Republic and then here. We’re feeling a bit out of the loop.”
“You’re the navy guy, right?” The man asked in that friendly Keys way that only a Key Wester could manage.
“You’ve… heard of us?” Sam asked.
“Oh sure,” The man replied, “I’m Fred, by the way. Yeah, there was a big announcement over the radio. The Admiral mentioned some people had arrived and that a couple of them were military. Treat you right, he says. Good credit anywhere you go.”
“Thanks, Fred,” Sam said with a smile, “What’s a credit account, though?”
“Admiral’s idea,” Fred explained, “paper money is worthless because there’s only so much to go around and most people’s dough was in the form of bank accounts that are now defunct. So what the Admiral does is set up a local computer and WIFI network. Every citizen gets an account and we all started with a set number of credits. Then when you buy something, you transfer credits from your account to whoever. Simple but effective.”
“What happens when you run out?” Brenda asked.
“Well, you earn more,” Fred said, “By working or running a business. Just like the old days. People with special skills might earn more than others, but it’s proven pretty fair. Hell, if you run out you can always earn by pulling a shift aboard ship or whatever. Housing is free, since we’ve got more than we need. Credits are mainly used to buy food, clothing, luxuries and other stuff.”
“Women,” Tara said coldly.
Fred scowled, “you’ve seen that?”
She nodded and her eyes were like chips of flint.
Fred sighed, “Not our finest tradition I’m afraid. But it’s not slavery… exactly. The women who are ‘bought’ do agree to it. Kind of makes me sick, personally… but in this man’s world, you have to go along to get along. Believe me, buying a girlfriend or even buying a boyfriend—“
“What” Tara asked in surprise?
Fred grinned, “The Admiral allows it, but he says fair is fair. A woman can buy a man, too. It’s not as common, but it happens. Take a poor guy who’s in financial trouble or can’t afford food… maybe a woman, usually an officer, cuts him a break. She’s lonely or needs some things done and he agrees to be her consort.”
“Christ,” Andy mumbled.
Fred shrugged, “As I said, there’s worse.”
He pointed to the structure.
“What is that?” I asked.
“The ring,” Fred said without any hint of his former joviality, “Believe me, you’ll want a drink or two. I have to work here and see it, but I don’t like it. My own girlfriend refuses to come down here anymore.”
Tara narrowed her eyes, “You bought a girlfriend too?”
Fred showed a ghost of a smile, “no. She’s a woman I met a few months back. Marine Gunnery Sergeant. Neither one of us makes enough credits to buy love. We had to do it the old fashioned way, thank God.”
I smiled, “Well… what have you got, Fred?”
Fred grinned, some of that Key West attitude coming back, “half a dozen beers and a few mixed drinks. Alcohol being limited, I mix up half a dozen things. Makes it easier. Also got chips, hot pretzels and even key lime pie on a stick.”
“No way!” Andy said with a broad grin, “hell, I’ll take one of those. And a Corona.”
Fred raised an eyebrow, “How old are you, bud?”
“Old enough to hold a commission as a Lieutenant in the navy,” Andy said with a grin.
“Really? You look like you’re not quite eighteen y
et,” Fred observed, “What would your mom think of you drinking a beer?”
“She doesn’t mind,” I said, “he’s more than proven himself an adult in this brave new world.”
Fred smiled, “I hear that. Not that I think it’s a bad thing… I guess the old ways still hang on. Anybody else?”
We ordered beverages and a few snacks, thanked Fred and continued toward the large crowd that had gathered around the “ring.”
Just as the cool winter sun touched the distant horizon, a man in a formal Navy uniform stepped out from what had once been an ice cream shop and approached the stage. I had never met Admiral Banks but it was easy to guess who the man was.
Aside from the Admiral’s stars, his uniform boasted a pretty impressive fruit salad. At least ten decorations hung on the left breast of his jacket.
He stepped up onto the stage and up to a microphone that had been set up for him. The crowd, which was by now a thousand strong, began to clap and cheer.
The Admiral grinned and waited for a moment and then raised his hand. Everyone grew silent with remarkable speed, “Good evening! Once again, it’s Saturday evening and we’re treated to another gorgeous Key West sunset… or at least what you can see to either side of old Teddy here!
That got a quick laugh and cheer from the crowd.
“Jesus,” I said softly to Sam, “Is it Saturday?”
He snorted, “Kind of lost track of the week days long ago.”
“As you know, “Banks continued, “Saturday is a special night here in the Conch Republic. It’s the night where we restore the peace and balance we’ve all worked so hard for.”
Another cheer. A bit more raucous this time.
“Six months ago,” The Admiral preached on. It certainly sounded like a sermon or a rally anyway, “Our world was turned on its ear. A plague swept across the globe and across our great nation, devouring everything man has worked toward for over half a dozen millennia! Yet some of us… we hearty few, did not go gently into that good night!”
The crowd roared in agreement.
“We did not roll over and let the zombies take us like they took so many!” Banks thundered, his hand in the air, “When our police failed us… when our military failed us… when the very fools we voted into power simply sat back and wrung their hands while hordes of the undead destroyed our way of life and those we loved—“
The crowd roared in anger and empathy. Banks held his hands out wide to his sides, taking in the energy of the crowd and letting them express it for a few moments.
“We! We few!” Banks exclaimed, “Stood fast and screamed into the maw we will not surrender! We will fight back and we will prevail over the forces of evil that ravaged our home!”
Another enthusiastic reaction from the crowd. Banks seemed to be very good at this. Probably why all these people were still here. It was hard not to feel elated and identify with his words.
He held up a hand for quiet and the crowd settled down, “My friends… my fellow Conch Republicans, both military and civilian… we’ve achieved something here. You have achieved something here. From the ashes of the destruction… from the debris of what once was a proud and powerful nation, you have built a stable society. Because of your hard work and sacrifice, our children can sleep safely in their beds at night. We can all walk the streets in safety and comfort and comradery knowing that you have done what’s necessary to keep us all safe. I thank you for that, my fellow citizens. We’re a light in the darkness… a small light, it’s true… but one that grows ever brighter.”
A soft but emphatic round of applause swept through the crowd.
“However,” Banks said in a hard tone, “and unfortunately even in our brave new world, there are those who don’t respect what you’ve done. Who care nothing for the rules you’ve established and the safety you’ve created at the expense of your sweat and sometimes blood. Those who would snuff out our light. Thankfully, these criminals are few… but they do exist. And they cannot be tolerated!”
The crowd erupted in a roar of rage and clenched fists held high.
“What the fuck…” Tony mumbled softly.
“What?” Andy asked.
“Are we about to see some kind of mob justice?” Tony asked.
“My friends,” Banks went on in a reasonable tone, “It’s only fair… it’s only right, in fact, that these criminals be punished. It’s also fair that you witness these punishments because the crimes they have committed have been against you. Yet we are not bandits. The punishment should fit the crime, am I right?”
The crowd made a collective sound of agreement.
“We have eleven criminals this week,” Banks said, “three gold brickers—“
The crowd booed but the sound was somewhat light hearted.
“Four were caught stealing,” Banks said.
This time the crowd’s reaction was more vehement. Boo’s and shouted curses were hurled into the ether.
“And four are guilty of attempted insurrection!” Banks roared this last viciously.
The crowd was beside itself now, cursing, yelling and stomping their feet.
“It’s only fitting then,” Banks continued in a level tone, “That all who wish to watch their punishments be given the opportunity to see justice carried out. First, because it’s owed to you. Second, because hopefully this will discourage anyone else from breaking the laws we all hold dear. Bring out the prisoners!”
The crowd began to cheer and loud heavy metal music began to blast out over the PA system. As the crowd hooted and cat called and clapped their hands, eight men and three women were paraded onto the stage. They were all chained together with a heavy gauge chain that looked like it weighed five-hundred pounds. The four armed marines that led them arranged the law breakers along the rear of the stage.
“Is this… entertainment?” Brenda asked aloud in shock.
A man next to her turned and smiled, “Yeah, the highlight of the week. Sometimes it’s one or two and there are weeks with no punishment, but when we get the serious crimes—“he indicated the large chain link ring, “—it’s a real shit show!”
“What the fuck, Sam…” Tony muttered again.
Sam only shrugged.
“Now then,” Banks said walking up and down in front of the pitiful looking convicts. He held an index card in his hand, “Andrew Trent, Amanda Stephens and Tamara Jones, you’ve been found guilty of shirking your duties. You broke a work contract after receiving your good faith credit deposits.”
The crowd booed again, but like last time, it didn’t have any real tone of malice. It almost sounded good natured.
“Now,” Banks said in a tone that suggested a disappointed father scolding his wayward children, “Fair is fair, guys. You did accept the contract to pick up trash and deliver it to the disposal site, right?”
The two women and one man at the far left end of the chain nodded and bowed their heads a little.
“Hell,” Banks said in a not unfriendly tone, “If you’d done what is admittedly a dirty job and hadn’t been paid, you’d be rightfully pissed off, am I right?”
The three nodded sheepishly.
“I know picking up trash and driving it out to the dump isn’t a glamorous job,” Banks said empathetically, “But the three of you requested work. As I recall, you said you’d do anything. And although trash detail isn’t fun, it is vital. It’s one big way we keep disease and pests under control, right?”
The three nodded again. Banks motioned to one of the guard’s and he began unlocking the chain so that each one was now standing free. Banks motioned to them to join him at the microphone.
“Do you all have anything to say in mitigation?” Banks asked.
The man, Andrew, stepped to the mic, “No, sir. We don’t have any excuse. At the time we just got tired and stupidly left the job unfinished. I speak for all of us when I say that we accept full responsibility.”
The two women nodded.
Banks looked at them for a long m
oment and then turned to us, “What do you think, ladies and gentlemen? Do they sound sincere?”
The crowd applauded and even laughed a bit. Somebody yelled, “Give em’ three dozen at the gratings, sir!” That got a big laugh. Even Banks laughed out loud.
“Well, Andrew, Amanda and Tamara,” Banks said, “Your words have touched the crowd. I think you’re forgiven. However, as fair is fair, something has to be done. So I propose that you keep your good faith credits but that you repay your admittedly mild crime by taking the next two trash details free of charge. Sound fair?”
The three actually smiled and nodded. Amanda said, “More than fair, Admiral. We even get to keep a little money.”
Banks turned to the crowd, “Agreed?”
The crowd applauded. Banks shook the three “criminal’s” hands, patted them all on the shoulder and waved them off the stage.
“A fair decision, I think,” Banks said, “none of us are perfect, and when people can take responsibility for their actions, it says a lot more about their character than a minor misstep, am I right?”
The crowd agreed.
“Fred,” Banks said over the PA and looked in the direction of the snack shack, “Give those three whatever they want on my account.”
That got a thunderous round of applause. The Admiral was truly the man. He was our friend and a fair and just leader. That’s the vibe I got from the crowd.
“Okay,” Tony admitted, “that was actually pretty cool.”
The next round of punishments, however, would not be quite so cool.
Chapter 29
Washington, D.C. – April 14, 1865
It wasn’t a surprise, not really.
He’d known since the Emancipation Proclamation that there would be an attempt made. It was inevitable like the coming of the tide or the setting of the sun. Just because the war had been won and the Confederacy had surrendered didn’t mean all was forgiven or that some final retribution wouldn’t be sought by those who felt they’d suffered as a result of his actions.