by Ginger Booth
Only then did I catch on that Cullen was revisiting the case for leaving the Apple to its own fate. Emmett to my left looked sad. Cam to my right looked mutinous. Before he could mix in, I said, “It leaves five million people stranded.”
Pete Hoffman sighed. “It was always the weak part of the Project Reunion plan. Once we’d given all the help we could give, and it still wasn’t enough, then what? Now we have a much smaller intractable problem, and several million people better off.”
“They bought the rest of New York–New Jersey their lives,” said Emmett softly. “You were in no shape to withstand Penn.”
Pete nodded slowly. “That part was sheer genius, Emmett.”
“Agreed,” said Cullen. “Emmett’s pulled some rabbits out of his hat. But I suspect he’s out of rabbits. And what’s left… Emmett, I hope I’m not out of line to share this with Tony. That you helped to write the Resco manual? The rest of us already knew that.”
Emmett shrugged a fair-enough. He nodded to Tony Nasser of Buffalo, who was duly impressed.
“Me, too,” said Cam. That raised three pairs of eyebrows, but not, I noted, Sean Cullen’s. I wondered who told Cullen. “I wrote the tech base chapters. Helped Emmett test the militia chapters.”
“And you, Emmett?” Cullen prodded.
“Subsistence agriculture,” admitted Emmett. “And testing the IEDs and car bombs.” He didn’t look enthused. After being officers in the Middle East for years, I imagine it rankled to unleash their nemesis IEDs – improvised explosive devices – in the U.S.
Cam defended, “A car bomb does wonders for morale when you’re outnumbered.”
Cullen looked amused. “My point, gentlemen, was that neither of you focused on cities. For cities above half a million, the Resco manual seems to suggest we not even try.”
Cam winced. Emmett murmured, “I wanted to save Kansas City. I got outvoted.”
I squeezed his hand under the table, and said quietly, “New York isn’t Kansas City, Emmett. Different order of magnitude. Literally.”
“Not in population. Not anymore,” argued Emmett.
Cullen gazed thoughtfully at Cam and Emmett. “Alright. Emmett seems to think there’s some hope for applying the Resco model to New York City. What do you have so far, Emmett?”
And Emmett brought up his maps, his plans to date. Getting the water mains and sanitation back on line, and enough power to run those. About 50 organized communities in 6 boroughs, including the Jersey City–Hoboken pseudo-borough. The floodplains plan. His chosen six level 5 model communities. Ferry services linking them. Sketched in food distribution.
He sighed. “That’s as far as I got.”
“Your confidence level doesn’t seem high, Emmett,” Ash observed gently.
“No,” Emmett agreed. “Oh, and some key personnel resources. Adam Lacey, the leader of the ferry engineering team, quit the Coast Guard. He’s interviewing engineers for me, and sketching out the mechanical plans. All of the PR camp commandants want to become Rescos. The guy on Camp Jersey asked for Jersey-borough. Camp Upstate wants the Bronx. Camp Yankee hopes to grow inward from Port Chester toward the Apple Core. Camp Suffolk wants a slice of Long Island, eventually. A lot of people want to continue as assistants in the Apple Core.”
Ash inquired, “Emmett, do you think those people want the mission? Or do they want to stick with you? Stay on a winning team, sort of thing.”
Emmett swallowed uncomfortably. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m letting them down.”
Pete Hoffman shrugged. “I’m as unconvinced as Emmett with this plan. But I couldn’t do any better.”
“Oh, I think these plans aren’t half-bad,” said Tony Nasser of Buffalo. “Emmett, if you don’t want to execute, that’s fine. I saw your role as moving these New Yorkers into new lives outside the city. Not taking on the city itself. You’ve got a hell of a gift for planning.”
“It’s a good start,” Cam agreed. “But we need transport. The Long Island railroad back up and running. Metro North lines to Connecticut and upstate. New Jersey Transit. And Emmett, I’d prefer you farming out on Long Island, with me. You don’t belong in the concrete canyons. Long Island has a lot more people than the city now. Lot of smaller cities, and big agricultural potential. I’m spread too thin.”
Sean Cullen stared pointedly at Ash Margolis.
Ash nodded slowly. “Yeah. Emmett, no way I’d take the Apple Core from you, if you want it. But I’m from Manhattan. That’s my city. My second can handle Poughkeepsie.”
Sean knocked on the table. “Let’s stop there for lunch. I need to leave now, but I’ll meet you for dinner. I’m told that today is Dee and Emmett’s one year anniversary, from the day they met.” He smiled at me warmly. “My aide will upgrade our dinner plans accordingly. So, this afternoon. I’d like you to jointly brainstorm a plan for the whole Apple Zone. Who, is not the issue. What, is the issue. What do you jointly recommend we do.
“Emmett,” Cullen continued, “you have dibs on the Apple Core. But for this afternoon, I suggest you let go and plan for what someone needs to do. That might help loosen up your thinking.” He smiled and dismissed us for lunch.
I didn’t budge, as Emmett’s colleagues filed out. Emmett rose to leave, but sank slowly back to his seat and raised an eyebrow at me. Tony Nasser shot back a smile and closed the door to give us privacy.
“Adam left the Coast Guard?” I opened with. It seemed more neutral than my real point.
“Uh-huh,” Emmett breathed. “Dee, we can gossip later.”
“Pick Long Island, Emmett,” I said softly. “Please? We could live together there.”
He swiveled his chair to face mine and took both my hands, hunched over, arms on his knees. He didn’t meet my eyes. “Darlin’,” he said softly. “The biggest problem here is not that I hate New York, or that I’m scared of the job. It’s big. I can handle big. The problem is you.”
“Us?” I suggested hopefully. “Us being together.”
He met my eye. “You’re married to your land in Totoket, Dee. Not me. I’m a soldier. My work isn’t in nice peaceful places.” He dropped his eyes and let go my hands. “You can follow me into hell-holes. Or we can have a long-distance relationship most of the time.” He swallowed painfully. “Darlin’, I respect you, and your work. But you’ve got to respect mine.”
He stood and traced my face with a finger. “I do love you, darlin’. This afternoon… Let me work with the guys.”
30
Interesting fact: Alaska and Minnesota officially became Canadian provinces the same week.
“Emmett MacLaren! Dee Baker!” the restaurant hostess gushed. “It’s such an honor to meet you!”
Emmett blinked uneasily, and attempted a smile. I was, if not used to it, at least slightly broken in. The other ‘wives’ and I had been fending off the celebrity treatment all afternoon. Dwayne caught less of it than I did, while we wandered the market day crowds in Greenwich. But even he gave a half dozen autographs. I lost count of how many people begged for mine. I had time to work out a stock response.
“Thank you so much for your support of Project Reunion,” I told the hostess, with my best gracious smile. I towed Emmett into the restaurant to give the hostess space to gush over Cam and Dwayne, and General Cullen in turn.
Emmett and I were famous. Odd how that didn’t come up much in our daily lives.
“Guess we don’t get out much,” Emmett commented, glancing back over his shoulder at the hostess.
“You don’t get that from the troops in the Apple?” I asked.
“Well, maybe,” he admitted. “Civilians are new. Pops! Carlos! DJ!” Emmett broke out in a huge grin in surprise.
Apparently Cullen’s aide had contacted the local Connecticut Resco, Major Papadopoulos, while seeking a dinner venue for our one-year anniversary bash. Pops had taken this as an invitation to join the party, and brought a couple friends along. Emmett and Cam were promptly swallowed into a mini Connecticut Resco flock reunion.
&n
bsp; Even I got a warm hug from Mora. “Congratulations on a year’s partnership with Emmett, Dee. Hell of a ride! Great thing for all of us that you two teamed up.”
Emmett grabbed Mora in a hug next. “Thank you for everything, Carlos. I’m so glad you’re here! You met Carlos that day, too,” he reminded me. “Carlos was the one who thought saving Amenac had possibilities. I thought you were trouble.”
I laughed. “You were both right.”
“Colonel Mora!” General Cullen butted in jovially. “Good to see you again! No poaching, I hope. Not fair to use our little celebration to lure your Rescos back to New England.”
“All is fair in love and war, sir,” Carlos intoned piously. “Isn’t it, Dee?”
Before sitting to the fabulous surf and turf dinner, Emmett managed to eddy me out for a quiet moment together. “Darlin’, I’m sorry,” he murmured in my ear. “I just said we met a year ago today. Not that it was our anniversary. I know it was your anniversary with Zack. Not me.”
I blinked back tears and held him tight. “Thank you. Now maybe I won’t have to say it and ruin the party.” I thought I’d been hiding my feelings better than that, holding up a masquerade of glowing pride in our one year anniversary. It helped, to have Emmett acknowledge Zack tonight.
“Uh-huh,” he crooned, hugging me tight. “Carlos knows, too. Our partnership did begin that night. Just not how they think. I love you, darlin’.”
It was enough. I wiped my eyes. No one thought anything of my crying, except excess emotion on this happy occasion. I got into the spirit of it and had a grand time. Despite the details being skewed, it was true, after all. We were partners, and we made a difference in the world. I especially enjoyed the way Emmett grabbed my hand for emotional support after each round of the staff coming out to beg his autograph.
Yeah, being famous would take some getting used to.
We didn’t pretend to a romantic anniversary night afterward. Despite killing numerous bottles of fine New York wine, lots of laughter and a couple dances, Emmett and the other New York–New Jersey Rescos went back to work after dinner. I returned to face our hotel room alone.
Emmett woke me when he got into bed, well after midnight, by softly smoothing the hair away from my face. “Wanted to check in with you, darlin’. You alright? Should I have just let you sleep?”
I shook my head no. “Cried for Zack,” I admitted. “I love you, Emmett. I miss him. He wouldn’t have gone off to New York and left me,” I grumbled, and softly punched Emmett. “Hard to remember his face anymore.”
“Uh-huh,” he murmured, and held me close. We both cried, but only a little. “Let’s not call this our anniversary again,” he suggested.
“Deal.”
The next morning, General Sean Cullen and I were back in the conference room, for the Rescos’ recommendations. To my surprise, Tony Nasser took the lead and presented, as the one with the most objective distance from the Apple problem. He might shift out of Buffalo this year. But he’d stay in western New York. One of these leading Rescos needed to keep his eye on the vast area upstate.
“The unifying themes,” Tony Nasser began, “are three. Transportation – reunify New York–New Jersey. Uplift – our communities to level 5 and above, including the Apple Zone. Borders – a path to dismantle all internal borders.”
“Good,” said General Cullen, nodding. For this morning, brainstorming mode was over. They were back to officer manners.
Water and transport was the first layer map Nasser showed on the big screen. Almost as succinctly as he’d given plans for Buffalo yesterday, he laid out the goals for restoring water, sanitation, power generation, and rail lines. Rail to be restored first up the Hudson River line to upstate for food supply. Next to hook back up to Connecticut and New England. Rail restoration in Long Island and New Jersey would start in parallel from their far ends, and work inward toward the Apple Core. Local transport within the Apple Core to be dominated by ferry service, aided by trucks for food, until long distance rail was restored.
Tony added another layer to the map, for demolition. “This issue was a bit thorny. Eighteen communities need to move. Their new locations need to be cleared first, existing populations absorbed. The remaining population is less than a tenth of what it once was. These blue areas are in flood plains. We choose to leave a ten percent housing margin for growth, and no more. Pick the best distribution and commercial properties, again no more than ten percent. All other buildings come down.”
“What was thorny?” Cullen prompted.
Emmett replied. “I thought everyone should be housed below the 6th floor for zero-elevator access…a lot of complications. Ash pointed out that relying on elevators is only a problem if you don’t have sufficient backup generators and fuel. I didn’t know what priority to give demolition. What to do with all that rubble, and whether to bother.”
Ash weighed in. “Sir, I want the communities to decide most of that. We lay down the law. You guys can stay, but you guys have to move. You can keep the best fifteen percent of these structures, but demolish everything else. Within that, let them own the detail decisions. But get some sunlight in there, start the land healing. This is an entirely new city we’re building.”
Cullen nodded neutrally. “Continue, Colonel Nasser.”
The maps came down, and a bulleted list of goals took its place. “Feed everyone. As soon as practicable, all people in the Apple Core get 1800 calories a day or better. Major Cameron’s model is working, to rebuild the workforce. Apply that here. Full sanitation too, as the waterworks reach each community. Full employment, hired by New York–New Jersey to clean up this mess and rebuild. Gradual shift to industry. Initial industries to be spare parts distribution, and battery manufacture. Encourage private ventures to evolve.”
“Spare parts?” Cullen asked.
“Yes, sir,” Nasser replied. “The city used to have ten times as many people. They had stuff. They have warehouses full of stuff. Before demolition, each building to be inventoried and worthwhile stuff removed. There’s little point in setting up industry to manufacture things we have in such colossal supply. It’s a distribution problem. Colonel MacLaren suggested Ms. Baker and Amenac could advise on how to get that business up and running.”
I nodded a noncommittal so-so. “I agree that it’s a distribution problem, more than a software problem. We can talk.” Cullen waved for Nasser to continue.
“Food security,” Tony said. “Food self-sufficiency is not a realistic goal for a city. Our aim isn’t to satisfy local food needs, but to reduce reliance on transportation for fresh food, and ensure interrupted supply isn’t a disaster again. So, food production at about an 800 calorie per day level. Year round fresh greens. Full nutrition for children’s developmental needs.”
Cullen pursed his lips. “As a whole, New York–New Jersey would remain above food self-sufficiency?”
“Absolutely, sir,” Nasser confirmed. “Net food exporting overall. Even the Apple Zone should be food self-sufficient within a couple years, when you include Long Island and North Jersey. The time frame is constrained by livestock biology. Increasing flocks and herds takes time.”
“Alright,” said Cullen, and waved for him to move on.
Next up was staffing. “We believe the project needs three Rescos. That brings each Resco down below four hundred thousand people. Eventual lead Resco is either Emmett or Ash. The problem here is that rehabilitation begins in parallel to the end of Project Reunion. Which means Emmett is trying to ramp down Project Reunion and do the hardest part – ramping up – on Project Rebuild, before other Rescos are available. We recommend that Ash join Emmett, effective immediately, to get this started.”
Cullen scowled. “I will not commit half of my top Rescos to New York City. This is temporary. Six months, tops. Then one of you has to go. Four lead Rescos, and four regions – New Jersey, Metro, Long Island, Upstate. Distribute yourselves accordingly, gentlemen.”
“Understood, sir,” Emmett an
d Ash chorused.
Tony added, “We have more work to do before we finalize Resco assignments for the year, sir.”
Cullen nodded. His tone softened. “Emmett, this is assuming you’re willing to stay with us? I know General Link would very much like to have you back, to tackle Boston-Prov. General Schwabacher has made noises about Ohio, too. He’s very fond of you. We owe you, Emmett. Big-time. Whether you stay or go. We’d very much like you to stay.”
“I’m not done here yet, sir,” Emmett agreed softly. “If you’ll have me. Tony?”
Tony Nasser flipped the display to a map of a new city, born from the rubble and agony of the old one, side by side with a pencil and watercolor concept drawing. The map showed 50 mini-cities, integrated residential industrial agricultural zones, islands in a sea of green, spanning islands in a sea of blue. The concept drawing showed a high-rise apartment block in the background, with food growing vertically up its face, lower buildings beside it. The foreground was green space, trees and community gardens, chickens and goats. I recognized Will’s art style – my graphics designer from Amenac – and his neat lettering in the legend. Calm Park.
“Calm Park?” asked Cullen.
“Burial grounds, sir,” said Emmett, with a catch in his voice. “Each community will have a Calm Park. The artist who drew this for me, Will… Well, never mind.” Cullen motioned for him to continue. “Will suggested a pilgrimage, of sorts. To walk all fifty Calm Parks of New York City. A walk for atonement. Each one could have a plaque, telling the community’s story, or listing the dead. And maybe a dedication to a state as well. Kansas Calm Park, and so on.”
After a few moments of silence, Cullen said huskily, “Gentlemen, lady, someday I would very much like to make that pilgrimage with you.”
Six quiet voices agreed, including mine. Emmett’s voice beside me said, “Amen.”
“And you believe this is do-able?” Cullen asked Emmett and Ash.
Ash volunteered, “We have outstanding public works in New York. These people are tough and skilled. They led the nation in climate change preparedness. A lot of them are still there – they chose to stay. It’s a hell of a lot of work. But they can do it.”