Haline

Chapter 2: Part 2

EVENING, BETA RING

Lieutenant Aaren Jemmer pressed his thumb on the entry pad and opened the slide door to his apartment. The table was set—dinner for one—and the warm, pungentsmell of garlic told Aaren he had just missed the delivery. Turning the corner into the kitchen, the screen displayed the menu and the time of drop off: chicksoy gravy with mushrooms and potatoes, three minutes, thirty-two seconds ago. Aaren tapped the transceiver around his ear: “SAI, Aaren Jemmer removing trans.”

“Acknowledged, Lieutenant Aaren Jemmer,” SAI replied in her sultry, commanding yet gentle voice out of the transceiver—and from the screen in the main room.

SAI—ever present in every citizen’s ear, every citizen’s home, every citizen’s life. As a senior officer, Aaren was authorized to disconnect from SAI from time to time, and always when off duty—one of the small perks of service that doubled as a way for the government to avoid having evidence of or being complicit in off-duty indiscretions. She was friendly and helpful most times, but could be ruthless if you ever found yourself on the wrong side of her enforcement of Haline laws—some say as programmed by the president himself.

Aaren placed the small transceiver on the counter. Off came his officer-class minmax gun from his belt, the belt itself, and his gloves. He unsnapped his street shoes, eased them off his feet, and went into the ready-room where he soaped his hands and moved them under the faucet. A gentle but thick stream of water flowed for precisely seven seconds. Aaren wiped his hands on the towel, grabbed a water ration, and popped the anti-spore pill that sat waitingfor him on the counter. I wonder why they didn’t engineer officers to be immune to spore infection? He smiled. Not that it mattered.

Swallowing the pill, Aaren took out his dinner from the oven where it was kept to stay warm, and moved to the couch where the screen instantly turned on to broadcast the country’s national channel, HN, with the latest Election coverage.

President Jemmer, who runs unopposed this Election year, is hoping for eighty percent of the vote—eighteen percent more than the previous Election—and asks each of you for your support. This is a speech given earlier today on the steps of the presidential bunker.

The screen moved from the polished reporter to the polished President Gaven Jemmer, standing over six feet tall but seeming nearly eight above the thousands of citizens before him on the steps in front of Bunker One.

Friends and fellow citizens of Haline, you have humbled me with your support these past six years, and with it I have strived to serve you.

The world that left us with little water and less food after ending the life-giving thermohaline flow and starting life-taking floods. The world that left us in war with our neighbors and friends, mistrusting and wary of the disease we each might carry. Theworld where the desperate killed brothers and sisters for food—that world is behind us.

The crowd of well-dressed Alphas and Betas erupted into applause. They are the lucky ones, and they applaud the man who keeps them lucky, Aaren mused, taking another bite of his dinner. He’d seen enough to not be naïve about that anymore.

Our nation of Haline, with a population now approaching six million, has—with your sacrifice and support—come together to create a new flow. A flow of law and security that feeds and provides water for every citizen, protects the health of every citizen, and ensures the safety of every citizen in this life and the next.

More cheers. Slight head shake. Another bite.

Our enemies have tried everything, everything to make us weak, but their sanctions, blockades, and attacks are no match for our determination, our ingenuity, and our courage. My fellow Halinites, allow me to continue to lead us toward a prosperous future and I will deliver you to it!

The applause was thick, and the cameras began focusing on individual faces of the well-fed and fit leaders of the country. A confident Vice President Ginara Martin. A squirrely Defense Secretary Kip Rogan. A nervousCongressional Leader Danyela Clarek. Yes, of course she’s nervous...she’s becoming irrelevant.

Aaren motioned the screen off and finished the rest of his dinner in contemplative silence. What would a third term look like for me...