Island of the Unemployed

THE PROJECT

A man sat in a chair on a white sandy beach, beneath the shade of a palm tree, looking relaxed, but focused. His attire was decidedly informal, white shorts, unbuttoned gray shirt, and bare feet. His name was Bric. He looked to be in his early sixties with mostly grayed hair, adding a distinctive look to his handsome, tanned face.

His wife, Skyler, sat beside him in a pair of large sunglasses and a big floppy hat to protect her from the hot glaring sun. Her long, flowing, blonde hair blew in a slight breeze. She leaned forward, watching over their ten-year-old son, as he played with his friend in the warm ocean water.

She and Bric had been married for nearly twenty years, and she was younger than him by as many. She was an attractive, youthful-looking woman despite having ventured into her middle-aged years. She stayed in good shape, taking exercise classes when she wasn't performing volunteer work, or meeting to discuss, and critique who was doing what on the island. They were churchgoing people. Skyler fancied herself to be a standard-bearer of proper conduct. She felt like it was part of her responsibility, given her position. Her husband was, after all, the leader of the island.

"Don't get too worked up, A'dacus!" she shouted.

"Aw, Mom. I'm just playing!"

"Aw, Moooommmm," his friend Derrick mocked. "Don't be such a wimp! You gotta do something about your parents. They won't let you do anything."

"I know, but what can I do? They've always been like this."

"Stand up to them. Be a man!"

"Stand up to them? You stand up to them!"

"I'm not going to stand up to your dad! You think I'm crazy?"

"Then why are you telling me to?"

"You're his kid. That's different!"

As Skyler shouted warnings to A'dacus, a maid set a tropical drink on a small table next to Bric. If he discerned her presence, he didn't let on to it, as his focus remained on his paperwork.

"Oh, thank God you're here, Matilda!" Skyler blurted out. "I'm just about to die of thirst! Could you bring me one of those..." She waved her finger toward her husband's drink. Matilda nodded. "That's a dear," Skyler said. "Oh, just look at A'dacus. He doesn't listen to a thing I say! I tell you, it is not easy being a mother. Take my advice, Matilda, think twice before you decide to have children." Skyler paused, realizing her faux pas. "Oh, I forgot. You're not allowed to have children." She laughed nervously. "Well, don't you worry about that! You don't know how lucky you are. Run along now." She shooed Matilda away.

"I swear that girl is the laziest thing," Skyler said to her husband. "I wouldn't be surprised if she completely forgets to bring me that drink!"

Matilda did have a habit of not doing what Skyler asked, but it had nothing to do with her memory or laziness. She simply didn't like Skyler very much.

Bric remained focused on his paperwork. "Did you hear me Bric? Have you listened to a word I've said?"

The commander stood a short distance away waiting for Skyler to divert her attention back to A'dacus. He was dealing with a dilemma that was all too familiar to him. He needed to report to Bric concerning the new arrivals, but he also knew Bric didn't like him to show his face while Skyler was around.

"Bric!" The commander said, just loud enough to have a chance of being heard. Bric immediately turned and gave the commander an annoyed look. He held up an index finger and got out of his chair. Skyler, seeing her husband get to his feet, looked back at the commander.

"Oh, Bric! You know I don't like seeing that man around here!" The commander was a part of her husband's life that she knew nothing about, though not from the lack of asking. She knew the commander oversaw the militarized area of the island, and she had always resented the fact that her husband kept her in the dark about the goings-on of that region.

"This will only take a minute, Skyler."

"A new shipment arrived today," the commander said. "I thought you'd want to know."

"Yes, thank you. How many fit for military service?" Bric asked.

"Thirteen."

"And for work duty?"

"Twenty-six." No inquiry made into the overall number of people in the shipment. Of the hundreds that arrived, his primary concern was with those not thrown into the pit.

"Good! Everything went smoothly?" Things always seemed to go well, but he asked just in case.

"Yes, very smooth," the commander answered.

"Good. Thanks for keeping me informed, Palmer."

"You're welcome. Sorry for the interruption."

The two knew each other well. They had worked together for over twenty years, and during that time they had formed a high level of trust. Even so, the commander was becoming concerned over Bric's judgment. His desire to build the size of the military was becoming an obsession. The island could sustain only so many people, and that number had been surpassed almost a year ago.

"I suppose I should head back, make sure detox is progressing." The commander turned, then felt Bric's hand on his shoulder.

"I've been meaning to ask you about the project. How are things proceeding?" Bric asked with intense interest. This was a conversation the commander hoped to avoid with a quick exit.

"It's going well. Very well."

"So...you think we could be ready soon?"

"Bric, we're still months away, possibly even years." Truth be known, the project was moving along ahead of schedule and could complete anytime, but the commander wanted to keep that information under his hat. If Bric knew, he would never leave him alone.

"I see. What can we do to speed things up?"

"We're already moving as fast as possible."

"Maybe some added resources?"

"Bric, we have our best minds working on it. Adding resources won't speed things up, if anything, it could slow things down."

"Well, how about a little added incentive. Maybe our 'best minds' aren't giving it their all. Maybe we can find a way to get them to work a little harder."

The commander knew what "a little added incentive" meant. It meant forcing longer hours, finding leverage against their 'best minds' to make them work even harder. Bric's obsession with the project was blurring ethical lines that neither wanted to cross. But maybe a little extra pressure could be applied. This was, after all, a critical project, and he knew who to put on the task. His best 'incentive' guy was Haden. He had a knack for that sort of thing. Haden's plate was already full, but he was an ambitious man. The commander was sure he would accept the challenge.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Good. Thank you, Palmer. Let me know if there are any new developments."

"I will. And one other thing," the commander said, knowing what he was about to say would not be well received. "The population of the militarized area is beginning to strain food supply. I'm concerned we're reaching a breaking point." Bric knew what the commander meant. 'Reaching a breaking point' meant people could start to die of starvation soon.

"Well, I'm afraid sometimes sacrifices have to be made," Bric responded. The commander nodded. "Thanks, Palmer. I know you'll do your best." With that, the man in shorts and an unbuttoned shirt went back to the tropical drink waiting for him.