Autumn in the City of Lights

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Autumn in the City of Lights Page 17

by Kirby Howell


  “I think we should re-read the information on the people Ben has given a threat assessment level of seven or higher,” Grey said. “We can all try to interact more with the higher threats to suss out their motives and affiliations with Karl.”

  I poked Shad, who was sprawled out next to me on the rug. “Speaking of Ben, you did remember to send a signal out to be relayed to him that we arrived safely?”

  Shad looked offended. “Pfft. Of course. Did it the moment we landed. The New Yorkers verified they got it and promised to pass it along.”

  Then he brightened. “Hey, can’t we just put everyone on the West Coast, minus Franklin of course, in the suspicious pile, and everyone else in the world in the ‘maybe they’re cool’ pile?” Shad asked. “I mean, think about it. Karl’s been in LA. How on earth could he have gotten to all these other people? Do you know how long it’d take him just to get to New York?” Shad pointed at the page Daniel had paused on. “Or Canada? And there’s absolutely no way he reached any of the overseas people not in Ben’s files.”

  “The kid’s got a point,” Daniel said, considering.

  “Remember, right after The Plague first appeared, planes still worked,” I said. “All he needed was a pilot willing to take him anywhere he wanted to go.”

  “It’s still highly unlikely that he found these specific people, Autumn,” Daniel said, handing Ben’s notebook back to me. “I think most of them are here altruistically.”

  I looked at Grey, pleading with him to step in and help rationalize why we needed to look at the other delegates with such a suspicious eye. But he gave a nearly imperceptible shrug. I guess that meant he and I would have to do the homework on the rest of them alone.

  I flipped through the pages and stopped short when I saw Cheri Tyson, the older woman from Washington’s Grand Coulee Dam settlement. Ben had given her a threat assessment level of eight.

  “Grey, look at this,” I said, handing him the notebook. “Ben rated Cheri really high. I didn’t notice this before.”

  He scanned the page. “I’m surprised she ranked so high, but not that he was keeping an eye on her.”

  “Really? She seems so kind,” I said.

  Shad snorted. “You remember how Karl was the first time you met him?”

  My heart sank. "Did any of you get the impression she was acting?”

  Daniel shrugged. “We were mostly in the cockpit.”

  “She seemed so genuine,” I said, feeling suddenly unsure of everything and everyone.

  Grey touched my hand. “We’ll just keep an eye on her and Joe. Maybe Ben was wrong.”

  When Daniel and Shad went back to their rooms for the night, I sat on my bed and kept thumbing through the high risk delegates over and over. Vincent and Ms. Whitmore were among them, too. That was less shocking to me. Grey came and laid a hand on mine, as if to remind me it was okay to take a break.

  “I wish Ben could be here,” I said, looking up at him. “It would be so helpful to pick his brain now that we’ve met all these people in person.”

  “How about the foreign delegates Ben didn’t get to speak with? Do your instincts tell you we can trust any of them?”

  I considered it for a moment. “No, not really. And even if they did, I’d be wary.”

  “At least we’re no worse off than we were before we came. We’ll just have to let this play out,” Grey said, his voice deflated.

  “I can’t help but think Karl is one step ahead,” I said, flopping back on the bed and examining the sweeping roof of the canopy over me.

  “He is,” Grey said. I perched up on my elbow and stared at him. “I know you don’t want to hear that, but the truth is, he is ahead of us. He knows more than we do. But that doesn’t mean he’ll win. We just have to be cautious and smart.”

  I flopped back down on my back. “I think I need to try that breathing technique of yours again,” I whispered, closing my eyes.

  * * *

  The next morning, after a breakfast of fresh-squeezed orange juice, strong black coffee and warm croissants, we were escorted back to the Hall of Mirrors. I noticed immediately that the enormous table in front of the fireplace was gone, replaced by at least twenty rows of cushioned seats. A podium stood at the front of the room.

  I hesitated, unsure of where to go, but then I saw the elected delegates were now sitting with their friends instead of isolated with the other delegates. Immensely relieved at the change, I found four seats together a few rows back from the front, and Daniel, Shad, Grey, and I sat down together. Franklin touched his cowboy hat in greeting and sat down next to us.

  “I guess protein is an unheard of commodity for breakfast around here,” he muttered, rubbing his large belly. “Lunch better not be too far off, eh?”

  Shad leaned down and dug through his bag for a moment, then unearthed a bag of Funyuns. “It’s not protein, but will this do?”

  Franklin laughed loudly, startling the row of delegates seated in front of us. He clapped Shad heartily on the back as he took the bag and pulled it open with a loud crinkling noise as the room began to quiet.

  “Good morning. Thank you all for coming,” Margery said from behind the podium. “I’m afraid the Japanese party has yet to arrive. We’ve sent a rescue team along their route. But, for now, we’ll have to proceed without them. We’re very pleased that the groups from Queensland and Brazil have made it to us safely, though.” I looked over to the group of newcomers across from where we sat. There were no fewer than twenty in the Brazilian party and five in the Queensland party.

  “Let’s begin,” Margery said and gestured to a small staff lining one wall, who began handing out packets of paper. “This is our agenda for today. At the end of today’s proceedings, we can open the floor for topics to put on tomorrow’s agenda.”

  When I got my packet, I saw it was one sheet of information, duplicated in several languages and bound together. The front page was English, and the first topic was “The Newborn Crisis.”

  A hand shot up. It was the Canadian Prime Minister, Ms. Whitmore.

  “Yes?” Margery said.

  “I see we’re beginning with newborns. Shouldn’t our first order of business be the reconstitution of global communications? We won’t know what kind of resources are available to us until we find everyone and begin a dialogue.”

  “That’s an excellent point, Madam Prime Minister,” began Margery.

  “There won’t be anyone left to have a dialogue with if we don’t start saving babies,” Roslyn interjected without raising her hand.

  “Perhaps if we pool the resources we have at our disposal now, it could be an ongoing effort, and as we rebuild communications, we can, of course, continue supporting the Newborn Crisis,” Ms. Whitmore reasoned.

  Quiet murmurs drifted around the hall as translators leaned in close to whisper explanations of what was being said to those who didn’t speak English.

  “That’s fine if you got a few generations to figure it out, sweetheart,” Franklin said. “But unless you wanna be the last generation of humans to inhabit the planet, I think we gotta go at this balls out.” Franklin paused to tip his cowboy hat to a few delegates who were sending irritated glares his way.

  I stood up, joining the crowd. Warmth flooded my cheeks as eyes turned to me. “I agree with Franklin,” I said, thinking of Connie. “The Crimson Fever is still killing people, bottom line. Until we find a cure, there’s no way to fully move on. My best friend is pregnant.” I paused for dramatic effect. “She already lost three children during the initial outbreak, and she might lose another child soon. I’m willing to bet almost everyone here knows someone just like her. And they’re depending on all of us here to figure this out and guarantee the safety of future generations. Why else are we here, if not for that?” The delegates quieted for a few moments, and I thought I’d gotten through.

  Franklin nodded his head sharply. “Autumn’s right. I know we gotta take a census and figure out who’s left now that the dust has settled, but
I’m telling you, life is short. Maybe shorter now than before. The Plague taught me that. If we want to repopulate this planet, every scrap of resources we have left has to go into solving this problem right now.”

  “But that’s impossible,” Vincent, the New Yorker, chimed in. “It’s not like you and I can help figure this out. We’re not doctors or scientists. Our efforts would be in vain! So while we gather up the right guys for the job, we can help in other ways, and rebuilding communications is key.”

  “But we can enable our scientists and doctors,” I said. “By pooling our resources to make sure their facilities are fully powered and their machines are online. And any tests they dream up will need manpower and technicians to pull off. We can be those people with the right training.”

  One of the delegates from Brazil stood suddenly and began speaking in rapid Portuguese, gesturing at Vincent and then myself. I couldn’t tell if he was supporting Vincent’s opinion or my own. His translator stood, waiting anxiously for a pause so he could repeat the barrage of sentences to his delegate.

  “Why bother to send a delegate who doesn’t even speak English?” Franklin muttered.

  I thought that was unfair. This was a world summit. There was no need for everyone to speak English. And he’d brought his own translator. I leaned forward to tell Franklin just that when someone behind me shouted, “We can’t understand you! Let your translator speak!”

  The Brazilian looked furious at being interrupted and turned toward the back of the room, launching into a new tirade. I looked at Grey, unsure if he understood Portuguese. His eyebrows were raised in mild shock. The man’s translator sat down, his face blushing to a bright crimson. I guess he didn’t want to translate what was being said.

  The Brazilian delegate finished suddenly and sat back down in his seat, sweat shining on his brow. Silence followed and everyone looked around, unsure of what to do next.

  “Let’s all sit down again,” Margery said in a calm voice, trying to pull everyone back. “We will talk this out, and then we will vote.”

  “What would you do, Margery?” asked Cheri, the woman from Washington with a high threat rating. “You must already have some kind of a plan, seeing that you gathered us all here. I want to hear the pitch for the newborns.” Her companion Joe sat beside her, nodding his head.

  “Well, I do have some thoughts on the matter,” Margery said, “but I think we’d better —”

  “Why wait?” Cheri pressed. “We’re talking about it now. Let’s hear it.”

  “Okay...” Margery hesitated, her professional demeanor rattled by the unsteady start to the morning’s carefully planned proceedings. I felt a stab of pity for her.

  She pulled on the bottom of her tailored jacket and straightened her shoulders before speaking. “Switzerland, London, and New Burbank have a few doctors between them already working on the problem. I believe we should focus all of that brainpower. They should work together, perhaps at one of our hospitals here in Paris, or a University, or another agreeable location.”

  A rumble broke out. A woman with a British accent shouted, “You’re mad if you think we’re giving up our doctors!”

  The delegate from Germany stood and said in English, “We don’t have any doctors to contribute. How do we know you’ll share the cure when it’s discovered?”

  Margery raised her hands to calm everyone, but it was useless. Everyone was shouting to be heard, and nothing was being accomplished.

  An anonymous voice yelled, “Who elected you queen of the world?” Several jeers followed from around the room.

  Margery opened her mouth and began arguing, but her words couldn’t be heard over the noise. I found Grey’s hand and squeezed it. He squeezed back and looked down at me. He looked just as concerned as I did. This was not going well at all.

  Just as the noise rose to a crescendo, Karl appeared next to her. He placed both hands on the podium and shoved it to the ground with a loud bang that silenced everyone. Margery stepped back, frightened, as her notes fluttered to the ground around the fashionable heels that perfectly matched her suit.

  “Enough!” Karl yelled, his voice echoing around the room. “This bickering is pointless. We all want the same thing here. We want to rebuild. We want newborns. We want safety and security. But this isn’t the way to get it. Margery is trying to facilitate this, and all you want to do is chide her for power grabbing. Well, there’s a way to assuage your fears. You have doubts about the French keeping a cure they haven’t even found yet? You question her motives? Fine. Let’s elect a president pro-tem. Someone who had no idea they were going to be asked to lead, and therefore couldn’t have come here with an agenda.”

  The quiet murmurs of translators followed, and then the Russians began to applaud. Others joined in. Margery seemed to shrink inside her power suit, then stooped and began collecting her notes, trying to put them back into order. She touched the corner of her eye briefly, and I wondered if she was upset at Karl’s takeover.

  Karl’s takeover, I repeated mentally, a hollow space forming in the pit of my stomach. This is what he wanted. This was his plan all along. He was going to get himself elected.

  Karl would be the king of the entire world if we didn’t stop him.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  We filed out of the Hall of Mirrors after the first session’s shouting match ended. Nominations and voting would take place tomorrow to elect a new leader. And as Grey and I walked through the sea of people, I heard more than one person commenting on how Karl was a natural choice.

  “What are we going to do?” I whispered to Grey.

  “Not now,” he said, ushering me away from the crowd and waving for Daniel and Shad to follow us. We made our way back to my room and closed the door securely behind us.

  “What just happened?” I said, dropping onto the bed and resting my forehead on my hands.

  “I second that and raise you a ‘the hell’,” Shad said. “Is president pro-tem even a real title?”

  “Yes,” Grey answered, staring out the window at the gardens below. “President pro tempore. It’s Latin for ‘the time being.’” He sighed. “And that’s all the time he needs. You saw how quickly everyone warmed to him, and he was only in front of the crowd for a minute or two.”

  “He knew talks would break down eventually. How could they not? And as soon as he saw his window to take control, he jumped.” I lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling through the gauzy canopy.

  “We’ll have to make sure he loses the vote,” Daniel reasoned. “Let’s think. He doesn’t have our votes, or Franklin’s, or Hoover’s new mayor, what’s his name again?”

  “Eric, I think,” I said, remembering him from our brief layover in Las Vegas. “He doesn’t talk much, but I think he was one of the original founders of Hoover, and I remember him speaking at Mayor Westland’s funeral, so I’m sure he can’t be under Karl’s spell.”

  “I don’t think Cheri is in Karl’s corner, but Ben seemed to think she was suspicious,” Grey said.

  “But the rest of the world,” I said, sighing deeply. “There are a lot more delegates than the ones from our neck of the woods. Karl is charming and confident. He easily manipulated people into joining The Front after The Plague,” I reminded. “It’s the same thing here.”

  “I disagree,” said Daniel. “Those people weren’t leaders. They were scared and looking for order after the most horrendous tragedy any of them had ever experienced. The people here are all heads of state. There may be a lot of people looking for this title, not just Karl.”

  “True, but Karl is the only one we absolutely have to stop from getting elected,” I said.

  “Then our campaign to sway votes to our side begins now,” Daniel replied, standing up. “We need to get us as many votes as possible. Shad, you’re with me. We’ll start with the people we didn’t meet on the plane. Hopefully, Autumn’s story has traveled farther than just North America. That will make things a little easier. We’ll also tell them a
bout Karl, and The Front.”

  “Wait, what?” I asked, sitting up so suddenly my head spun. “You aren’t suggesting me for this position?”

  “Daniel’s right,” Grey said from the window. “You’re the only delegate here who stands a chance against him. Your story has elevated you from local hero to global legend, I hope.”

  “Grey, it’s our story, not just mine. And everyone here has a similar one, I’m sure. I’m no different from anyone else.”

  “And that’s why you’re going to make a good leader, Autumn,” Daniel said. “You don’t want power, and you care about those around you. I don’t think I’d trust anyone who nominates themselves for this position.”

  “Word,” Shad added, thumping me on the back.

  “It was a fluke I was elected in New Burbank to come to the Summit. No one here is going to elect a kid.”

  “Well, we’ll see about that,” Daniel said. “It’s certainly not time to give up before we’ve even tried.”

  I knew I wasn’t ready to be thrust into a role of such responsibility. At least people like Margery had some formal training, and she was used to being in a position of leadership. I just wanted to be with my family in New Burbank. I wanted to spend time with Grey, tend my garden, ride Snicket in the hills, and watch Rissi grow into a woman.

  “I don’t know if I can do this, Grey,” I whispered, but it might as well have been a shout. The room was silent, and everyone stared at me.

  Grey turned from the window to Daniel and Shad. “You guys go on. Talk to people and rally all the support you can. I’m going to spend some time with Autumn.”

  “If I were cut out to be some great leader, you wouldn’t have to treat me like a child in need of a pep talk before the big game now,” I said, as Daniel and Shad slipped from the room.

  “I’m not going to give you a pep talk,” Grey said, crossing the room and kneeling in front of me. “You’re under an undue amount of stress, and we both know this is what has to be done. In the end, I know you’ll make the right decision, because you are the bravest woman I’ve ever known. But that doesn’t mean the burden isn’t a heavy one.”

 

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