Once-Other

by Lawrence M. Nysschens

  “Ah?” I say.

  “You tracking here? No? You’ve seen the promo—print baby print.”

  “Ah yes,” is all I can muster.

  He turns to leave, but I grab his sleeve and ask, “If what I’m paying in taxes each month means that to pay my bills I use credit each month. Are we talking inflation as well or something else?”

  He stares as though he cannot believe what he had just heard. I hold onto his sleeve and wait him out.

  He shakes his arm until I let go, brushes it off and says, “Using credit to pay your bills will never be inflation.”

  “What we talking then?” I ask.

  “Using credit to pay bills is what’s called Deflation.”

  “What?” And I give him my puppy dog look with droopy eyes and a soft smile thrown in for max effect.

  He sighs, claps softly and says, “Deflation works hand-in-hand with inflation.”

  “Okay simple,” I say.

  “Here’s how and for clarity’s sake...from the top again so you can understand how this all fits neatly together. First off.

  “You applied to increase inflation and so extra-extra money got printed—money over and above the extra money already being printed to ensure regular inflation. Next.

  “Increased inflation money, the extra-extra money, flows away from your application and eventually to our Section’s ADD-Dees. That action right there is the first cash flow of a balanced economy. You know? Checks and balances. Yeah. You got it. But now you’ve personally caused higher inflation by applying for increased inflation. Right?”

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  “Next! You applied for a higher Patriotic Status. On approval, you were awarded a higher personal Taxation bracket which offsets the increase in inflation.”

  “Hmm?” I muse.

  “Sigh. Okay. With a higher Patriotic Status, the government collects higher taxes from you to cover the extra money not printed because the extra-extra money had to be printed. So that money can also be passed on to ADD-D recipients without any concerns of unbalancing the books. Okay?”

  “Yeah. So I’m paying them...ADD-Dees...either way...right?”

  “Yes! How wonderful to hear such happiness in your voice. But! Listen up...it’s a little complicated from here on.

  “Okay. So while the government is busy printing extra-extra money because of your Increased Inflation Application, they are not able to print the boring extra money for regular inflation as they usually would. And as you can imagine they’ll soon face a shortfall of printed money. Well! The Inflation Preservation and Nullification Act is known as the Financial Gate Opener and Flow Neutralizer. Right?”

  “Ah?” I say.

  He ignores my question and races on.

  “Here’s how. This law opens the gates allowing money to flow and to keep flowing under certain natural conditions.”

  I wipe my hands on a facial tissue.

  He waits as I toss it into a trashcan and continues. “In the final step you apply for more credit, so money now flows towards your Application. That’s Deflation. Applying for more credit is financially known as the Balancer. Technically it’s referred to as a Balanced Economy—money flows away from you then flows back towards you—and there you have it...balanced you see.”

  It’s hard for me to come to terms with the fact that I did the full educational thing through MBA and didn’t understand that an increased inflation Application, followed by a Patriotic Upgrade, is balanced by the Preservation and Nullification Act at the same time a credit Application is approved and results in a Balanced Economy—until now.

  When I tell him that my personal debt stands at four-and-a-half million dollars—he congratulates me.

  I am shocked by his congrats.

  But he assures me that I must hold my head high and be proud that I’m now paying ninety-seven percent taxes.

  Apparently, not many people pay so high a percentage.

  He confides those others aren’t really patriots.

  “In fact,” he whispers in my ear, “some of them are paying as little as ninety-two percent.”

  “How come so low?” I groan.

  But he leaves, after patting my shoulder.

  CHAPTER 69

  Of Duties And Change

  Six weeks have passed since my rescue and events have all but overtaken me. During a briefing provided by Benwarr, he updated me along with all of those who represent our three groups. Ninety-seven dot five percent of Here-Born voted yes to deploy our UWMD, an unprecedented percentage.

  Yet it saddens me. EB’s citizens have no idea. None.

  After the vote, Here-Born personnel heading for EB are mostly senior UWMD staff. As with those placed into position earlier, these come equally from amongst our three groups. From our prison system have risen many volunteers, with Amnesty granted and active upon each one’s success.

  Most have already departed for EB carrying in their luggage Fraggers of varying power and differing versions and uses. Many got through with others imprisoned. Both results we consider a success.

  Such volunteering lifts one’s heart.

  It was a long meeting during which only Benwarr spoke. I was relieved when it ended. Soon, though, I would undergo the most difficult task of my life.

  Reggie, Jiplee’s husband, had made application for deployment to EB. It was moved up to the highest ranks. First, it went to Madsen and Maggie and from them to Benwarr and, to my utter astonishment, from Benwarr to me.

  I spent some time considering his application and then had Reggie brought in. This despite my being confined to the tent at Roses’ orders.

  “Good...you’re looking well,” Reggie greeted me as soon as he straightened from entering the tent, and then his eyes found Roses.

  He smiled and added, “The rumors of Roses’ beauty do nothing to prepare one for the seeing of her in the real. Congratulations to you, you lucky scoundrel. Forgive me Roses but I am unable to help myself...beauty has always set me mind free and my mouth has always spoken what’s on my mind.”

  Roses gently waved his words aside and indicated a cushion.

  Reggie sat down, was thoughtful for a moment then said, “But first let’s touch upon moments from our past. I thank you for attending Jiplee’s farewell, Once-Other. Josh and Alice order me to say hi and when are you coming to visit again. Alice also says she’s brim full with lots more to tell you about butterflies—it’s going to blow his mind.”

  I smiled and said, “They are a treasure, Reggie. And so much so I’m tasked with reviewing your application for active duty on EB.”

  “Well...to my advantage, Once-Other,” he replied. “No one understands what happened and why I must go more than you do.”

  “We’re in a war, Reggie. People will die—patriots all. They will die here. They will die on EB. How many will all told, I cannot imagine.”

  He waved me silent and said, “I’m already part of the dying. I am willing, my life is yours to send to the depths of danger and if needed, from there never to return.”

  “I understand. But are you aware of the duty for which you are most suited, Reggie?”

  He shuffled closer and leaned in.

  “I cannot be readier Once-Other, nor more aware of what is best. I’m informed of your debriefing and of what happened to both Jiplee and Franciscoa. No one stands stronger in readiness than I. My family, my friends, my work companions—have stepped forward. They are prepared to lend a hand, to help with what all and where all—if I’m no longer here—for Alice and Josh. Give me the word and I will serve. In Jiplee’s name, I will serve.”

  Roses helped as I sat up and reached out to him. He took my hand, gazed into my eyes, pleading with me, but his real value lay elsewhere.

  “Reggie. This war may be swift or it may be long. Either way, EB will invade us. Either way, many of us must travel to EB. Many who are parents as well. Wait. Please hear me out.

  “You have a greater task than for which you’ve applied. It’s muc
h larger than our Campaign and higher even than this war itself. I need you to safeguard our future, Reggie. Okay yes—I am a Colonel. So, I can order you to do what is needed but I’d prefer that you see the future and understand what road best suits your helping hand.”

  “I will die if I must. Yes. That leaves my children without parents. Be that as it may.”

  “I’m not looking to send you towards death...but towards life. You are to be tasked with Here-Born’s tomorrows. Can you see it? Can you understand why?”

  “I see Jiplee’s face before my eyes, every waking moment. I see her in my children. Hear her in their voices. The way they move. How sometimes I will look up and find Alice standing there looking at me just as Jiplee did when she and I were young. I die each time Once-Other. Each time.”

  “Live by Neatness alone, Reggie. Forgive me if you can but these are your orders.

  “I am making you entirely and solely responsible for our tomorrow.

  “Into your hands alone, I place the life and well-being of every single Here-Born child.

  “You will take any and all actions required to search out and find every child who loses one or more parents to this war. You will see to a home, not merely a house nor simply accommodations, but a home for them until each finds a loving home with new parents.

  “You’re free to recruit all the personnel you require—use older people as they know children well. They also understand tomorrow is made for today’s child. Care for our children and Here-Born’s older people...as you care for your own.”

  Reggie sat still for a long time staring at the cushions behind me. When at last he looked up, he said nothing in return. Instead, he stood, bowed to Roses and offered me his hand.

  I took it and then he said, “Thank you Once-Other. You’ve eased the weight of Jiplee’s death and saved me from a path of revenge and given me a future filled with Neatness enough to serve my name for all eternity. I wish you well. I hope you return from EB and Karrell returns with you.”

  He stood and walked to the exit, paused and looked back over his shoulder.

  “I had forgotten her true self, Once-Other. Pain and loss hid it from me, and even my own words had vanished into the mists of painful grief. I thank you again. I can hear what I’d said, and I see the truth again. I recall Jiplee harbors no hate for them despite that I do. We believe she lives. We know not where. To my hate, she lends a loving hand which eases my pain and replaces it with that which we all seek—freedom returned!”

  Smiling, he turned and left.

  Roses took my hand, kissed my cheek, wiped tears from the corners of her eyes and growled, “Now you sleep.”

  At this time, I am proud of what Reggie has done.

  He has selected a safe location deep in Desert Driver territory. They have constructed standalone and communal homes and all those bound for active duty are contacting them daily. Here-Borns, whose children have flown the nest, are keen to offer their services. I sense Reggie will do well by them all.

  On a personal level, my back wounds have healed with proper treatment and the new ribcage bonds well. The impact of Wernt’s bullets and my fall down Iron Rock Ridge caused damage enough to require replacement.

  On an intimate level, I have recovered well enough to more than commit to Roses. She appears as pleased and satisfied as I am. We spoke for hours afterward, which eventually lead to discussing our going to EB. It was our first battle of wills. There will undoubtedly be many more to come. Strangely, we both won during this one.

  I go to EB and Roses goes to EB. However, here today Roses has something special to show me.

  I glance up and overhead the Half-Day-Moon rises to welcome midday. Dust-devils dance in circles down streets and between tents. Camels bleat and roar, horses whinny and on occasion a SandMaster roars into action.

  I smile that the sound of it now fills me with the certainty of a continuing tomorrow and the fear of before has all but fully vanished. Dissolved by an enlightened acquaintance with all Desert Drivers and how our Founders UWMD works.

  With a firm grip on my hand, Roses leads me through the maze of tents which compose Benwarr and family’s current campsite. I glance at her pale-blue silk suit and smile. Her eyes ask why I am smiling. My smile says I like how she looks and she smiles.

  We reach the center of the campsite.

  Pleased to be alone with Roses upon a free sand, I lean against a white corral fence and admire the black-n-white horses within. Roses wipes sand from her silk suit, squeezes my hand, points to the stallion and says, “Dad’s given him to us...Prince.”

  “A damn fine Prince altogether,” I admire.

  “He’s the one who found you, along with his lady friends. They always remain together. They are all trained as rescue horses.”

  “No,” I say.

  “Well, they are. Fortunately, we had a Maggie provided shirt of yours—unwashed. Did you leave it in her bedroom?”

  “No,” I reply in a steady voice.

  She chuckles and says, “They go out with rescue saddles and First Aid kits. Because you were unable to mount up, he returned and we followed him back and found you. You were in bad shape. Dad was worried...he didn’t know you well enough then.”

  “He laughed at me,” I say.

  “I was there, remember. It is just his way of expressing relief. He was apprehensive. He had been monitoring your campaign work for some time. As you can imagine, we get reports from EB. The results from yours were...are...good—actually better than any others.”

  “I do what I can,” I concede.

  She slaps my arm, hard.

  “And that’s for?” I ask sounding more hurt than I am.

  “Don’t make less of yourself,” she says looking me in the eye.

  “Oh!” I manage.

  “Now you know,” she says.

  “I do?” I ask.

  “You think Dad allows one of his daughters and his favorite at that, to commit to just anyone?”

  “Oh.”

  “Yes. Oh.”

  “I see. Yes. Fine. Damn fine and all. But? Why put me on a camel if horses...?”

  “Anyone who can’t mount on their own needs a stretcher. They don’t fit on a horse.”

  “Ah.”

  “You tired?” she asks.

  “No. Why?”

  “Oh. Ah. Ah-oh.”

  “Oh.”

  We laugh and she hooks her arm through mine and gazes out across the desert. Prince joins us and we stroke his neck in appreciation and thanks. In silence, I consider the future.

  From this campground located close to Sand Lake Flats, the D’elti family is leaving for Earth-Born. As mentioned, Roses and I had argued her going. She won. We then discussed the unusual voyage I must undertake getting to EB.

  She was also concerned about my extended travel once there in search of Karrell. She had wanted me to let others not closely related, find him. But no—it must be me. I had promised Karrell that I would come for him.

  This she understood.

  On the other side of the ledger, Wernt departed before Prince found me. Odentien, the Lady, and Mister Conqueror left some weeks later, cutting short their stay as well. Prior to their departure, we worked on getting their thoughts.

  Nomad security experts followed them around the hotel, the Mall, the Fairgrounds even during circus acts. These shadows were able to monitor some of their thoughts as I had with Peter.

  The Twelve...well, these three anyway, were found to be using real-time protocols in a unique fashion. These were not regular protocols like most others, which only lay out the way to present data from one computer to another as all computer-to-computer protocols do. Here we were talking human beings, not computers. We discovered they had added personal life experience to how each accesses the thoughts of one or more of their group.

  After much searching and scanning their minds for thoughts, we found four folders common to them all. We named them One2Four.

  Folder One and Two contain pie
ces of protocols but never a complete one. They had even broken protocols apart and spread them throughout the first two folders. To gain access to their thoughts requires joining hundreds of fragmented pieces together and so create a full protocol. However, there was more to learn about how to present the request for access.

  We first had to get the protocols themselves, so we kept going at Folders One and Two. These two folders contain actual computer like protocols laying out exactly how to present a query to access thoughts. Once we got that right, we moved onto folders Three and Four, which required adding personal memories to the query.

  On reading the report, I was puzzled at how such a crude and basic security system had kept me, or anyone else for that matter, from accessing Wernt’s thoughts.

  Droght, Head of Nomad Security, joined in as promised. He went out and learned as much as he was able to over several breakfasts and dinners at their hotel.

  Thanks to him, we discovered each piece of a memory held in common by the twelve is indexed by year, month, day, hour, minute and seconds down to one-thousandth of a second.

  Each was also uniquely named as an instant in time.

  We suspect they named them as such to echo Here-Born’s Moment in Time and so the Twelve have perhaps paid homage to their home world.

  Droght tracked their communication in real time and found that each sends out a stream of time parameters for a memory held in common along with the search query. After we had developed a method of application Droght went out and tested, and still nothing.

  Time was running out for they were preparing to leave.

  I thought through all we had and still found it impossible that such a system could fool anyone with high encryption skills. I got with Madsen, Droght, Roses, Ozerken, Pe’truss, and Benwarr and we worked their system over. And this despite Roses’ protests and wishes to drive everyone out the tent and let me rest.

  Benwarr, Droght, and Roses put the system together laying out each piece too fast for any one of us to follow. Ozerken and Pe’truss took the Nomad’s work and constructed the system itself and presented Madsen and me with the internal workings of the Twelve’s security system as complete as was possible.