The Platform

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by J Noah Summerfield


  If the people on the platform were going to die anyway, then he would make sure that they died to help the rest of the people survive.

  Hani was satisfied with the way everything worked out. Fewer people were needlessly dying each month. Eventually, some of them saw the advantage of helping him, selecting who they should sacrifice so that the rest of the platform could function for another short while. Even Sycamore Johnston agreed that his methods were working.

  He gave the platform the time it needed to rebuild the algae fields. Sycamore expected a new crop to come in any day now. Soon, they could return to a routine where he didn't have to make chum. They could eat the hard green the way they always have.

  Hani was never a fan of the algae stuff. It tasted like weeds. He actually preferred his own methods. But he understood that his methods wouldn't keep forever. There was a turning point where these choices would actually harm the platform. The Walrus disagreed. He said that they were not worth saving. But of course that was not true. They were some of the last survivors of mankind. They were absolutely worth saving. And it was their obligation to do whatever it took to survive. Their sins would create a brighter future for the next generation. When Sycamore held up the infant girl for all of them to see, Hani knew that he was right. The Walrus was selfish. He was so concerned with what he was willing to do for himself, but he never considered what the platform needed to do so that the children could find a better humanity. The infant's mother lost faith. The Walrus tried to defend her. But the woman was useless in life. So she gave her life's blood. First to the infant. Then to the chum.

  Hani admired the woman. Her fate was a selfless one.

  Why didn't the Walrus understand? This was about self-sacrifice. This was about the platform's future. That man spent so much time worrying about what the world was like before the Second Plagues. Hani didn’t understand why. That world didn’t exist anymore. That way of life didn’t exist anymore. And what was the point of all of it if you didn’t survive long enough to even ask the question.

  The Walrus should be grateful that Hani solved the Alpine’s food shortage, he and Naamah both. The irony was that they would be too weak to even complain about his methods if it wasn’t for Hani in the first place. Who were they to protest when they benefited as much as anyone?

  Curse those smelly spit rags.

  Even Makrigga, the same man with whom he went on dozens of hunting excursions into the open ocean, couldn't understand. Both of them so easily took the lives of great species so that they could survive. He had seen Makrigga snatch stingrays and swordfish straight from the ocean with nothing but his hands and a spear to avoid starvation. Yet, that same man found himself incapable of sacrificing a useless, weak human. This contradiction frustrated Hani.

  He poured another ladle of chum into the water. The liquid was followed by a pleasant glug sound.

  At least he knew that he wasn't alone. Sycamore agreed with these methods. That was important. If Sycamore didn't speak on Hani's behalf in front of the whole platform, then he would probably be dead.

  What was the infant girl's name? Sycamore said it a dozen times. He couldn't have forgotten it already.

  Sycamore Johnston asked him if it would be enough. Hani assured Sycamore that he would attract enough large predators for them to hunt with this batch. They won’t have to replenish their supplies for some time.

  Things wouldn't always be like this. Twenty years from now, everything will be different. We will be much better off.

  Sycamore nodded, and then looked away immediately. Peered into the murky water. A jolt in the surf caused a sudden drop in the skiff. Sycamore grabbed for the sides to steady his seating.

  Hani smiled. Sycamore's sea legs still needed some work. Hani, on the other hand, was quite good at staying balanced in even the choppiest waters. It was something he prided himself on. It satisfied him to know that he was meant to be on the water.

  Now what was the infant girl's name? They promised the mother that they would look after her. The mother insisted. No. Insisted wasn't the right word. Begged. Before she gave herself, Sycamore agreed to the mother's request. It was only fair. He agreed without negotiating, without any denials and without any limitations. He promised that the little girl would grow up to be healthy and strong. Hani thought that this was odd behavior for Sycamore. Dealing with these half measures was always a tedious exercise and not a good idea. This tiny thing was barely alive. What kind of promise that meant anything could they make in a place like this? But Hani couldn't do anything about it since it was Sycamore that showed the platform that Hani's methods were working.

  It was kind of funny, Hani thought, chuckling. The Walrus was furious after he found out what had been happening. It didn't make much sense. The Walrus only benefited from his actions.

  Instead, the stubbornly ungrateful Walrus tried to throw him off the platform. He would have sunk to the bottom of the ocean if that happened. Or he would have been picked up by some large predator. If the Walrus planned on killing him, then he should at least make some use of Hani’s body. That was another example of the Walrus's wasteful methods. They had so little. And what little they had was vulnerable. They experienced it when the algae crop on the sea-mount failed. The system that provided fresh water was already strained. It didn't make any sense to waste what little was available.

  It’s not as though he did this for amusement.

  Imagine how furious the Walrus would become if he knew Hani was the reason everyone complained about the ventilation system, if the Walrus discovered that he used the ventilation system to dispose of the some of the larger body parts. The bones. He tried hacking away at some of the larger bones, but only ended up with large chunks, the kind of pieces that you could give a dog. The fan in the ventilation system did a much better job of mincing the heavier pieces into something that he could use.

  It was worth keeping that secret. Hani reveled in the annoyance on the Walrus’s face when a light drone slowly developed, and the anger when it didn’t go away. There were people in this place that could operate heavy machinery, that could work pipes and conduits, but no one knew how to fine tune the systems that kept everyone alive. They simply couldn’t figure out why the fan wasn’t operating smoothly, but they also couldn’t just go out and get a replacement. So they were stuck with it. That noise.

  Drrr. Drrr. Drrr.

  It was even in Hani’s head. But he knew that it was worth it. That constant torment was his legacy.

  All of those fools paid for their food with their frustration.

  Again, the current had Sycamore grasping for the rails. The man really doesn't belong on a boat. Hani thought to himself that he should recommend another oarsman. Someone with better sea legs. Someone that could handle the oars without constantly fumbling. Someone that could handle a harpoon. Someone that knew what it was that they were hunting.

  What was the girl's name? It would come to him. He was sure of it.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  The Platform is J. Noah Summerfield’s first novel. His non-fiction writing has appeared through various scholarly journals, including Quinnipiac Probate Law Journal, New York Law School Law Review, Creighton Law Review, Rocky Mountain Communication Review, Transnational Dispute Management and the NYSBA Entertainment Art and Sports Law Journal. He is a recipient of the Ernst C. Stiefel award from New York Law School and the Phil Cowan BMI award from the Entertainment Art and Sports Law Section of the New York State Bar Association. He lives in Florida with Kelvin, the dog. Now, on to the next novel… perhaps something involving pirates…

 

 

 
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