“You don’t have communication with the other prototypes?”
“There’s no way to do that short of sending up another satellite, and as you can imagine, we’re a long way from having that capability. But as with most things, the old technology can be adapted. In this instance, we use it to monitor the electronic wall that surrounds New Town.”
“And direct the drones.”
“Yes.” Gavin stuck his hands in his pockets, but he looked Max directly in the eye, which said something about the man’s integrity. “This is why we don’t need a jail in New Town. No one’s here we don’t know about. No one’s here who isn’t an asset to the community. You break the laws in New Town, and you’re placed outside the wall.”
“Which laws?”
“There are only three. Don’t take what isn’t yours. Don’t grievously injure another person. Contribute to the success of New Town.”
“Who’s the judge and jury?”
“There isn’t one.”
“So you decide?” Max realized he was moving from casual questioning to interrogating, but this was important. What kind of new world were they building if it wasn’t based on the tenets of justice?
“No, I don’t decide.”
“Then who does?”
“I only enforce the three laws, which are fairly black and white.”
“But you put people outside the walls…based on your criteria.”
“I didn’t create them.”
“Then who did?”
“POTUS.”
“Excuse me?”
“The president of the United States was the one who issued the directives to each prototype town.”
“The president? And you’re sure that he still exists? That the three branches of government continue to function, which of course must not be so if there are no courts for the Supreme Court to oversee…”
“Look, Max. This is a lot to digest at once. I understand that.”
“I’m not sure you understand it at all.” Max’s temper was rising. He knew he needed to tamp it down, that Gavin wasn’t the one who literally decided who lived and who died, but in a way he did—without due process or representation.
Max combed his fingers through the hair that lay too long on his neck. He was no longer the lawyer that he once was, but he would stand up for the institutions he believed in. “Out there? I understand. I’ve lived in it for almost a year, and I have finally accepted that you can’t arrest every thief, that you can’t have a nice tidy trial for every accused murderer.”
Gavin waited, allowed him to work through his thoughts. Allowed him to vent his cry for justice.
“But in here? In this place that is supposed to represent a new beginning for our country? You’d better find a way to incorporate justice and due process into the prototype. Otherwise, what you’re building is really just a house of cards.”
SIXTY-SIX
Carter thought dinner was surprisingly good—some type of meat that had been stewed and cooked with fresh vegetables. He knew they were fresh because they had some taste to them. They must have come from the greenhouses they’d passed. Otherwise, how could they have fresh vegetables in March? In addition to the stew, there was cornbread and butter.
“The butter comes from the cows,” Bianca said. “They have quite the agricultural center here.”
“I thought you were looking at the hospital.” His mom reached for an extra piece of cornbread.
“One thing led to another.”
“She heard a moo.” Patrick finished his glass of iced tea—something none of them had had since the lights went out. “All it took was a moo, and she was snooping right and left.”
“They said we could look at anything.”
“And you took them at their word, dear.”
Patrick leaned over and kissed her on the lips, which Carter found a little embarrassing but also cool. It was good seeing Patrick and Bianca together. Now if only his mom and Max would come to their senses, he could stop worrying about the adults in their group. He didn’t have any concern about Gabe, who, quite obviously, could take care of himself.
True to her word, Captain MacRae had assigned them a first lieutenant who seemed willing to answer all of their questions. Isaiah Perez didn’t look that much older than Carter—maybe twenty-five. He had a military haircut, which meant it was buzzed, and a friendly smile. He seemed pretty at home in New Town, pretty relaxed. Carter couldn’t remember feeling relaxed anywhere, except maybe at High Fields. But even there he’d spent most of his time trying to prepare for the next emergency.
“How many people are in New Town?” Lanh asked.
“At this point the population is 2840. Well, 2847 if we include you all.”
“One of the people we interviewed suggested there are other prototypes like this.” Max pushed away his empty plate and crossed his arms on the table. “Is that true?”
“It is, though I can’t tell you how many or where they are. Both of those answers are above my pay grade—not that we get paid anymore. But yeah. New Town isn’t the only pro-town.”
“That’s what you call it?” Lanh glanced at Carter, as if to say, Can you believe this guy?
“Prototypical Municipal Structure is the exact name. Some folks shorten it to prototypes. Others, pro-towns.”
“So this isn’t the only one. Why is that?” Patrick asked.
“Several reasons. If we are attacked by foreign or domestic entities, we don’t want all of our resources in one place.”
“Is there intel to suggest that might happen?”
“As you can imagine, information between the pro-towns as well as what remains of the central government is sparse. We aren’t aware of a specific threat, but if anyone wanted to hit us, if they had the ability, then now would be the perfect time.”
“You said there were several reasons for creating multiple pro-towns.” Max tapped his fingers against the table. “Defending our resources is one. What are the others?”
“There’s always the possibility of another natural disaster.”
“More flares?” Lanh asked.
“That, or a flood, a blizzard, a lightning strike that starts a fire that spreads. There are a lot of scenarios, and June 10 proved that we’re not good at preparing for everything. The best answer is to divide your resources, which increases the odds that one of us will survive. If we’re lucky, more than one will make it.”
“How do the prototypes differ?” Carter waved away Bianca’s offer of more tea. It wasn’t sweetened, but he still knew he needed to check his glucose levels again before eating or drinking anything else. He felt good, but that wasn’t always an accurate barometer. Mostly, at the moment, what he felt was curious. He’d been so preoccupied with making it from day to day that he hadn’t given much thought to considering the future. Or maybe it had seemed so bleak he hadn’t wanted to think about it.
“The towns are created to capitalize on the resources of the region. Take coastal towns, for example. There are at least three, though I’ve only been assigned to one personally and don’t know the location of the other two. But any pro-town established in a coastal region will have a natural food source, fish; salt water, which can be desalinated if fresh water is an issue; and tides to power new technology.”
“Where else have prototype towns been established?” Shelby asked. “Not specifically, like the Flint Hills, but in general. Is it always a remote location?”
“By necessity, it has to be. Otherwise we’d be overrun with displaced folks before we could establish a presence. As far as the different regions, we have coastal, desert, plains, and mountains—there are even rain forests in Washington. The towns need to have local sources of food and water. The Science Team’s goal, the way I understand it, is to take advantage of those various eco systems and use them to power towns with renewable energy. Those are the basic components.”
“Can you give us an example of renewable energy?” Lanh was leaning forward now, glancing at C
arter again before turning his attention back to Perez.
They’d seen a lot today. Stuff Carter had never expected to see again. Actually, when he thought about it, they’d seen the future.
“Sure. On both the East and West Coasts we’ve been able to establish towns that receive thirty-two percent of their energy from tidal power.”
“Tidal power.” His mom looked as skeptical as Carter felt, but something was tickling the back of his mind, some memory from Coach Parish’s class.
“Wave energy.” He could practically see the drawing in the textbook. At the time, he’d laughed because no waves were anywhere near Abney.
“Exactly. In one instance, we used buoys tethered underwater. In another, we used a tall, oscillating structure. Both capture and convert the wave energy into electricity.”
“You’ve seen this?” Patrick asked. “Or you’ve heard about it?”
“I’ve been assigned to three different pro-towns so far. One was on the West Coast, and yes—I saw it. This isn’t tomorrow’s technology. It’s today’s.”
“Or yesterday’s.” Carter sat back and crossed his arms when everyone turned to stare at him. “I remember something similar in my science textbook.”
Gabe had been fairly silent, taking in the information and processing it. “So we won’t try to reestablish the electrical grid.”
“We couldn’t do it even if we wanted to. We don’t have the resources to build the equipment, and the substations are not plug and play—each is unique. If there’s a way to reestablish manufacturing, I haven’t heard of it.”
“So you’re focusing on alternate energy.”
“Absolutely. It’s critical after the flare that those systems be independent of one another. Our biggest failure may have been developing and depending on a grid system that we knew would fall like a line of dominoes.”
“It didn’t have to be a flare,” Patrick pointed out. “It could have been a terrorist attack.”
“Exactly. And we knew that, but we kept telling ourselves that we couldn’t afford to restructure, redesign it. In truth, we couldn’t afford not to.”
“We met a wide variety of people today,” Max said. “Do you let anyone in?”
“We do not, and believe me, that doesn’t sit well with a lot of folks—sort of goes against our grain as Americans. But we don’t want to spend the resources to police this town. We need people who can police themselves.”
“What does that mean?” Lanh asked.
“It means that if someone is caught stealing, they’re put outside the perimeter. If they attack another person for any reason, they’re put outside the perimeter. And if they arrive at our gates in a violent or threatening matter, they’re shot.”
“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?” Bianca stabbed a fork into her apple cobbler. “No trial? No jury?”
“We don’t have a court system or a jail. How would we hold a trial? And we can’t afford to have people spend hours on a jury when we need them at their jobs. We do understand that people out there are dying, that they need us. This town and others like it are the hope for the citizens of America. We can’t let some entitled punk holding an Uzi stand in the way of that.”
“What’s the timeline?” Shelby asked. “When are the people inside this community going to leave and help the people on the outside?”
“Some of us want to go now. The administration recently released a guideline for new communities based on the pro-towns. They’re not going to start one unless they’re reasonably sure it can survive.” Perez paused, glanced around, and then he admitted, “Phase One does not include going back into the metro areas. Instead, we’ll focus on creating new communities, and trust that the people will find us—hopefully, that will happen in the next twelve to twenty-four months. Phase Two will involve expanding to rural areas. During Phase Three, we’ll go into the urban areas.”
“When is that supposed to happen?” Max asked. “When will you return to the cities?”
“Three to five years, and that’s an optimistic target. It could be more like ten.”
SIXTY-SEVEN
The next two days were busy for their entire group.
Gabe spent most of his days attending military debriefings. He did confirm that he had the location and codes for the supplies scattered across the state of Texas. He had what Governor Reed needed. In that sense, their mission was a success. He shared what he could with them, but most of the information was classified. No one held that against him. Gabe had proved time and again that he was on their side, and he would tell them what they needed to know.
Bianca was training with some doctor, learning more first aid so she could help out at the hospital in Abney.
Shelby continued interviewing people for her journal.
Max and Patrick rode outside the perimeter of New Town and observed new planting techniques that required less water and no technology. Max thought it was a hoot that the methods had been learned from an Amish community, but Shelby had nodded absentmindedly and said, “There are four communities in Kansas.” Carter remembered she’d learned that while researching a book set in the 1800s and focusing on Kansas settlers. It had coincided with an American history project he was working on, so he’d been able to use some of her research.
“Your mom knows a lot of trivia,” Lanh said to Carter the morning of the second day as they made their way across the center green of New Town.
“Yeah. Only when she’s deep into a story, it’s not trivia. It’s like she’s found something hugely important. She would storm into my room, holding up her phone and saying something like, ‘You’re not going to believe this.’ ” Carter attempted a laugh. “I haven’t seen her that excited or that happy since the flare.”
“When are you going to tell her?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you’re sure?”
“Yeah. Aren’t you?”
“Oh, I’m sure.”
Carter and Lanh were free to explore. They’d spent the day before walking around randomly, asking questions when they popped into their heads, stopping and staring at things they never thought they’d see again: small, college-sized refrigerators, bathrooms, hot showers, laboratories, a library.
They’d made a list at breakfast of things they wanted to confirm and places they needed to see before they shared their plans with the group. First up, they wanted to know more about the technology. How did it actually work? They found out that some of the trees they’d seen on that first drive in were actually 3D printed solar energy trees.
Ashley Campbell, who had been pursuing a career in additive manufacturing before the flare, didn’t mind answering their questions, and Carter was happy to stand around talking to her. She was super cute—a couple years older than him and a couple of inches shorter. Her blond hair was cut shorter than his, and her brown eyes practically danced as the young men stood there with their mouths gaping open at the information she shared. Maybe she was used to that response from newcomers.
“How did you print them?” Lanh asked, staring up at the leaves, which were actually flexible organic solar cells. “Or did you have them before the grid went down?”
“Both. We had some at various government installations, and some we have printed since then.”
“How?” Carter reached out to touch the tiny leaves, which were colored pink and maroon.
“Generators were hooked up to 3D printers stored inside underground government facilities, and, of course, many of the commercial labs were built underground as well.” Ashley explained that the leaves were able to gather and store energy. Not a lot, but enough to power small appliances.
“Imagine the day when every home has one of these in their yard,” she said, the pride obvious on her face. You’d have thought she’d grown the trees herself. To be fair, she had overseen their installation and maintenance.
“Then if the grid went down, it wouldn’t matter.” Lanh stuck his hands in his pockets, his forehead creased
in concentration. “Why didn’t we do this before?”
The answer was simple enough. “Because we didn’t have to.”
She led them over to a parklike area across the dirt road, filled with ten trees evenly spaced apart.
“What are these things?” Carter asked. “Wind or solar? And what are they made of?”
“This is actually a wind turbine. Each tree holds seventy-two turbines, which are made of a treated plastic so that the humidity, sun, or any other type of weather won’t damage them. Each tree has a power output of 3.1 kilowatts.”
“Not much.”
“True. It produces approximately 3100 watts. There are ten trees here, so that equals 31,000 watts. Not much in the pre-flare world. But now? Pretty helpful. Remember, a ceiling fan only uses 35 watts. We might not be cranking up the A/C anytime soon, but I bet many people in the South would give their eyeteeth for a fan.”
“And the turbines are silent,” Lanh said.
“Another plus, because much of the complaint with the giant wind turbines was their noise.”
“Not to mention how many birds they killed.”
“Exactly. These trees have been sprayed with a substance that repels animals.”
“I can’t smell it,” Carter said, leaning in and taking a big whiff.
Ashley laughed. “Humans can’t, but animals can. The turbines are able to spin with the wind blowing as low as 7 kilometers per hour, which here in the Flint Hills is nearly every day.”
Carter could have stayed there talking to Ashley the rest of the day, but Lanh pulled their list from his pocket and checked off the trees. Next up were the large, tentlike structures they’d glimpsed the day before.
The canopied buildings were actually a type of biodome. Daylon Walters, a black man in his mid-twenties, explained the concept to them. “Google actually designed their new headquarters from something similar.”
“Before the flare…” Carter reached out and touched the translucent canvas.
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