Solar Umbrella (Book 1)

Chapter 4: The Expulsion

IT WAS IN Parker's second year of high school that The Expulsion happened. Despite decades of progress in renewable energy, energy storage, genetic modification of food to increase resistance to pests and increase yields, robotic farming and other technologies, humanity was at a tipping point. A combination of a boom in population and a runaway global temperature had reached that tipping point Malthus had predicted over 250 years before. Tens of millions of people were dying each year, primarily in poorer countries who had their agricultural lands owned by corporations who shipped out the food to the wealthier counties of the world. Places where governments looked the other way while the rich of the planet raped their land and their people. The constant cycle of droughts, floods, fires, hurricanes and extreme heat became so normal, it didn't even register as background noise anymore.

Humans are an adaptable species. They spread from the heart of Africa out to populate the entire Earth, in areas as disparate as Iceland and Ecuador. From a slum outside of Mumbai to a penthouse overlooking Central Park in New York City. From the bottom of the ocean to the surface of the moon. People could adapt to just about anything, and they did. They also adapted to what was happening around them and normalized it. There were major problems all over the world every single day. Sure, people in the wealthier countries feigned interest or even felt a pang of pain in their souls when they saw a piece on the news about what was happening over there, or they felt like they made a difference when they donated some money to help feed the people of some country or another. In reality, they just kept going on and living their own lives. Sure, if you asked someone if they wanted to help or if they thought more could be done, they said all the right things. But hey, what can I do?

Adaptable as they are, humans do have a breaking point. That point was met all over the world around the same time.

"Yo, DJ, will you pass me that tablet beside you?" Parker asked his friend beside him on the bench. "I keep leaving my crap everywhere. I'm tired from staying up studying for exams."

"Sure thing. You should have worked harder during the year so you don't have to study so hard at the end," DJ replied, concise and on point as always.

"Gee thanks buddy, nice to know I can always count on your advice and timely tips."

"No problem Parker." As always, DJ's face showed no sign of picking up on the sarcasm.

It was one of the reasons Parker loved the guy. You could always count on pure, unabashed honesty. But today, it pissed him off. He knew it was probably his fried mind causing his frustration, but he couldn't help himself. "Does it ever bother you to be so open with everyone? You never couch your words at all," Parker asked with an edge to his voice. "You just spit out whatever crap you want and never think of what the other person is going to think about it."

"You know I'm on the spectrum, Parker. It's just part of who I am. I've learned to accept it," DJ replied as deadpan as ever.

"You never told me that before," Parker replied. He felt like a piece of garbage. He always knew DJ was a different sort of guy, but he never considered the why of it. "I'm sorry man."

"Don't be, it's just the way I am."

"Don't you ever just wonder, you know, what it would be like to not be that way?"

"Of course I do, but you're asking a computer to run like a butterfly," his friend replied. It sounded like a rehearsed speech—something he must have told many times before. "I've got my own set of parameters for how I run. There are things I do very well and things I struggle with, just like anyone else. I can look at computer code and piece it together quickly and run it visually in my head to perfection. Since I want to be a programmer, that's going to be a competitive advantage in my life. I've found something that fits my programming."