DamAge: Thirteen Moons

DamAge

Thirteen Moons

By B.G. Farmer

Copyright 2016 Brian Farmer

Smashwords Edition

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Preface

The end of the earth had come and gone, and come again. All in the wink of a geologic eye.

More than seven billion humans spun out of control, culminating in the inevitable foretold by all. Following the initial catastrophe, a once civilized human race brought upon itself a blight most had conceived as a likely aftermath, but few would discuss aloud.

Worldwide, constantly mutating viruses slammed the developing nations, as well as the industrial powerhouses. Strains of bacteria and virus morphed at alarming rates, keeping pace with the vaccines designed to dissolve the threats. But even this pestilence was unable to counter the problem of overpopulation and resulting environmental destruction. Nothing but a porous ozone layer remained in the earth's atmosphere. The radiation pouring through the sky led to a geometric increase in cancer-related disease. With an average ocean temperature increase of one-half degree Fahrenheit annually, the earth’s atmosphere wreaked havoc with isolated occurrences of severe weather and natural disaster. Slowly, the constant temperature rise robbed the globe of productive farm lands. The decline of plant life was followed by disappearance of birds and mammals, and reptiles threatened to rule once again. Ocean dwellers fared little better. The polar ice caps had provided what they could in the way of relief. Sea levels rose, and then steadily dropped as water evaporated at quicker rates, and increasing amounts were withdrawn for desalinization. Those ocean species that did adapt faced certain peril at the hands of the world's fishing fleets that harvested the sea's bounty with renewed vigor.

Republics of the once mighty Soviet Union never recovered from Communism's fall in the late 20th century. Capitalism proved to be no anti-serum for their demise. Disillusioned Russians, Georgians and Ukrainians flooded the free market system, which was drowned out by a tidal wave of hunger and despair ravaging the countryside. In desperation, the downtrodden chose to follow a populist madman.

Meanwhile, discontent began to ripple throughout Europe. Failure to gain unity in European trade and economic structure resulted in the financial collapse of the stalwart nations of Britain and France. Greece and Italy faced economic insolvency. A united Germany began to flex its muscle again. Despite significant internal opposition, the Neo-Nazi movement gained increasing social and political power. Troops began to mass on its borders.

China’s sprint for economic superiority decimated Asia. The continent resembled an African nation, laid barren at the turn of the century by over-industrialization, followed by famine and resulting in civil war.

America would not, and could not, help. In the early part of the century, the country was rocked by terrorist attacks, shattering the American sense of security. The attacks exacted a heavy physical and mental toll, but also re-energized a politically lethargic populace. A more wary citizenry became super-sensitized to daily indiscretions. It was the shadow cast by the pedestal politicians had placed themselves upon that kept the country in isolationism. The United States had become ungovernable by a centralized body. Ignored and betrayed by elected representatives, states and regions within the country attempted to secede and form separate republics. Boundaries were redrawn along geographic lines.

The Rockies created a natural border for the Western Republic. As the long-predicted global climate change became a reality, it was in this region that water wars first escalated. Government control of water hamstrung industry, agriculture and the environment simultaneously. Ironically, it was the bureaucracy that gave birth to the Alexander Hamilton of the 2040 revolution – William Billy Lake. As Director of an environmental crimes unit of the federal government, Lake was tasked with apprehending environmental terrorists under a program that came to be known as Motherland.

Like the major political parties, advocacy journalism and religious fundamentalism, there was no middle ground anymore. If you opposed policies or actions designed to promote consumerism and economic growth (i.e. fill the pockets of a select few individuals and corporations), then you were an enemy of the state. There was to be no compromise, no negotiation, no weighing of the facts.

You're either for us or again' us, was the mantra of the conservative right wing and ferreting out those that were again' us was the objective of their Motherland program. Environmentalists were the poster boys for those not falling in line. Always spouting data and touting science to try and sway public opinion that could result in economic downturns.

But now the game had changed. Environmentalists decided to no longer play by the pacifist rules they had adhered to for so long. They were left with no choice but to draw lines in the sand. If they could not sway people with the facts, then they would do it with force. The most obvious target became the dams.

Damsels (what environmentalists called supporters of the structures) argued that the dams were all that stood between civilization and adverse climate change impacts. They claimed that the changing seasonal pulses in water flow were modulated by the concrete behemoths, saving fish by enhancing migratory and spawning flows at critical times of the year. Ignoring the ability of fish species to adapt, and easily adjust to changing seasonal flows which varied only by days or weeks. Fish that could survive in such a fragmented ecosystem were much more susceptible to increases in water temperature and dissolved oxygen, both of which would not exist if not for the dams. The arguments grew louder and eventually the damsels retreated to a stance of economic protection. Transport, flood control, hydroelectricity production was all dependent on the reservoir systems. Removing the dams would result in economic turmoil and weaken our nation. Besides, it was just outright un-American. After all, our fore fathers built these structures with their own blood and sweat, and they were a testament to a an era when men still built things. But the simple truth was that all this water was passing us by. The rivers were swollen and if we didn't use it, someone else would. So we tried to contain it. We might not need it right now, but someday we might. Simultaneously, we broke off multi-nation compacts with Canada for the exact opposite reason. Our hypocritical response was that they were keeping all the water that flowed down from the north for themselves.

Environmentalists didn't back down. No snowpack nor rain meant no flooding, they countered. No agriculture resulted in no grain to transport and, solar and wind power had surpassed the economic advantages of hydroelectricity long ago.

The government grew paranoid, installing swimmer defense systems to pacify the power companies sucking off the government subsidized systems. Machine gun bunkers were constructed on the tops of power houses and sonic thumpers installed to deliver underwater blasts capable of disabling any underwater menace. All of this was funded by oblivious rate payers for a measly couple of cents per kilowatt hour.

The Western United States was a playground for the dam-haters. Grand Coulee, Hoover, and Glen Canyon made for attractive targets. Rivers like the Columbia, Snake and the Kalamath served as a backdrop for many bloody battles that triggered civil war.

Disgusted with the charade by the agency to silence environmental activism while ignoring its charge of environmental protection, Lake had enough. Leaving the agency, he became the unlikely leader of a regional rebellion against dams and politicians alike, as carpetbaggers gained control of the earth's natural resources.

The confederate states were whistling Dixie once again and Texas chose to go it alone. Battles for independence and self-determination turned bloody under the guise of homeland security. Racial tensions escalated as the blame was placed on immigrants. International borders slammed shut.

Ironically, it was a noble fight for human rights and freedom that touched off Armageddon in 2050. The far right had taken complete control in Germany and was quickly fashioning a new empire. Alliances were being made and deals struck. But the German people balked when rumors of human atrocities and executions began to circulate. They demanded explanations, but got none. Neo-Nazi opposition groups were forced underground following the disappearance of several prominent organizers. Meanwhile, the military machine began to rumble and move forward. History repeated itself as troops began marching on France to the east. The United Nations scrambled to reach agreement on the players and role of intervention. Then all went silent.

Neo-Nazi opposition in Germany had seen enough and had thrown its wildcard onto the table. A one megaton atomic blast tore apart Berlin. Hesitant to acknowledge the power of the opposition, while wanting to appear decisive, Germany's right-wing leaders looked outward for scapegoats. Missiles were en-route to the United States and China within twenty-four hours of what became known as the Berlin Blast. Counter attacks ensued.

While most missiles reached their targets, some strayed substantially, igniting tensions and dragging more nations into the conflict. Within seventy-two hours of the incident all missile silos were empty.

Warheads seemed only a minor consideration to man and animal alike in many parts of the world. Their appearance overhead only interrupted the misery already inflicted on humans by their own brothers, disease and famine. Looking skyward, many of the earth's inhabitants smiled and embraced the coming of the apocalypse. As expected, there were no ground troops to claim victory and no foreign occupations. One of every three people died on missile impact. The war had ended by default and now the real battle began.

Like the wisp of smoke from an extinguished candle, the human spirit retreated and disappeared. Completing a vicious circle, crevices, caves and holes became home. Many avoided shelter offered by the once urban centers, plagued by sickness and violence few could imagine or dare confront. More pressing was the desire to avoid the world that had led them to such a woeful end.

Eventually, some emerged from underground shelters to announce their grandiose plans of rebuilding America, but they and their kind were quickly dispatched. It is said a group of marauders had organized to stalk past and future public officials and politicians. Once caught, the quarry became the main course at a victory celebration. Whether true or simply a scare tactic to dissuade those with designs on rising to power, fewer and fewer would-be kings materialized. Two of every three people in the world were now dead attributed directly or indirectly to the war five years earlier.

In the United States, as in the rest of the world, the nuclear winter that followed was the dark ages of the 21st century. Global temperatures now averaged ten degrees Fahrenheit colder than a mere two years earlier. Glaciers once again began to creep across the earth. Darwinism prevailed. Cannibalism was commonplace as both plant and animal life were scarce and those that survived were contaminated or mutated beyond use. Reproduction of the human race had virtually come to a standstill. Even if a woman was healthy enough to carry a child to term, few children survived beyond the first month.

The survivors mistakenly assumed it could get no worse. Small comets began to pelt the earth’s surface. For six weeks the streaking chunks of rock assaulted land and sea. Ironically, it was the tons of debris sent skyward that created enough atmospheric disturbance to allow for the warming of land and air. The curse was a godsend. Glaciers began to recede and oceans were rejuvenated. Within four more years, temperatures had increased and stabilized, but still hovered substantially below those that had withered the planet a half century earlier. The earth had been reborn at an accelerated rate and one billion men, women and children bore witness.

It was the year 2060.

***

Chapter 1

The blue cigarette smoke masked Jalene’s view out of the already grimy window. Peering from her 26th-floor office, she cursed the gray drizzle dripping from the opaque sky into even bleaker waters below. A lone, hulking, water-transport barge plowed its way through the near sterile froth of Puget Sound.

Bastards! she hissed, glancing skyward and crushing the butt in an ashtray she cradled like a snifter of brandy. She had done so much for the company, and there were still three floors of offices above her - most of which had better views than her own.

She torched another butt and shuffled sideways to a window smudged with a mixture of bird guano and wayward bugs, interwoven with a spider web of cracks. Despite the roadmap of obstacles, it remained more transparent than its neighbor. Although she had been with H2O Inc. since its inception five years earlier, her promotion to management was recent.

The company was founded on the idea of running brackish water through membranes to remove salt. Employing a combination of electro dialysis, filtration and reverse osmosis, H2O purified the water and transformed it into a drinkable commodity. At 32- years-old, she was given the typical junior associate responsibilities of handling local sales of water. She was pushing all the product the company could produce through its desalinization process, which amounted to 27 million gallons each day. Ninety percent of the water found its way down the Pacific coast. But the company was hitting the ceiling in terms of power needs. The processing plants’ thirst for energy was unquenchable. Originally constructed near the turn of the century by a bureaucratic agency, the company simply moved in and took over the abandoned operation after the war. But maintenance of the facilities was now proving to be financially taxing, and the distribution system was quickly outstripped of capacity in a short period of time. Costs were soaring to almost a quarter credit per thousand gallons of water.

It was Jalene’s idea to tap reserves to the east. It had never dawned on the idiots upstairs that there existed pristine streams and potable groundwater only a few hundred miles on the other side of the Cascade Mountain Range. Extensive urbanization along the ocean’s shores, and the harsh impact of war on the marine environment, had led to severe impairment of the area’s coastal ecosystems, already tortured by pollution. It was assumed by most that the devastation was widespread and the entire country suffered a similar fate, but a broad communication system had never been re-established to disprove such an assumption. Unknown to those residing on the coast, the natural ecosystems just several hundred miles inland had proven resilient and able to withstand the onslaught brought upon it by the human race. Jalene learned of the opportunity through her contacts, or her network, as she like to call them. The most recent deal she had brokered was with those crude Flatlanders in the arid lands. It had been her baby, and now the company was beginning to expand markets because of it. And this crappy office was all she had to show for it. All the more reason to justify pursuing personal side deals, which she seldom passed up.

Biting on a fingernail, a canine fell from her mouth, and landed in the ashtray. Studying the rotted tooth, she dug it out of the ashes, rolled it around her palm, and then flicked it across the room.

Jalene? squawked the intercom on her desk.

Lighting up another cigarette, Jalene inhaled the tobacco deeply, and stared at the box, impatiently.

Jalene? Are you in there?

Another drag.

Ja . . .

Pouncing on the box, she pounded on its top with the back of her hand, trying not to damage her smoke. What the hell is it, Marge?

Mr. Tonaka is on his way down, came back the crackling reply.

Why didn't you tell me? Were you going to wait until he came through my god damn . . .. . . ? The door to the office swung open and in waddled a small, portly, gray– haired man. Looking up from the intercom Jalene smiled pleasantly. The new gap in her teeth was almost unnoticeable. Running her hand through her greasy, black, shoulder–length hair, she tried in vain to push it out of her eyes.

Mr. Tonaka, how are you today? Have a seat. Like a game- show diva, she swished the air with her hand, motioning toward the chair facing the desk. Her hand smacked smartly against the file cabinet on the backswing.

Tonaka walked directly towards Jalene not saying a word. Bending down with a groan, he picked the tooth up off the floor and placed it on her metal desk, as if it were a discarded paper clip.

Sit down Jalene, he asked. Noticing he made no move to sit himself, she decided to remain standing.

What can I do for you Mr. Tonaka?

Please, he repeated with more conviction.

Sitting down gave him a height advantage and established his control of the situation. She did not like losing the upper hand. Hesitating, she thought better of it. Despite her reluctance, she managed to crack a smile, as she took a seat. Swaying back and forth on the metal institutional chair, she struggled to maintain balance on a loose swivel and sticky rollers. Tucking one leg under her bottom, she further elevated herself as much as possible.

Please, have a seat sir, Jalene lisped, her tongue sticking in the space left by the tooth now perched upon her desk.

Ignoring her pleas, Tonaka remained standing. Placing his palms on the desk, he leaned forward. His red necktie so ragged; only a stray piece of thread touched the top of the desk.

Jalene, it has come to my attention that there are some problems in the east. I have also heard about unauthorized excursions in the northeastern mountains. Do you know anything about these events?

Why of course sir. After all I am in charge of the eastern project, I expect myself to stay abreast of these situations.

So? What the hell is going on?

Glancing toward the office door, Jalene stood and skirted across the room. Looking outside, she softly shut the door. Returning to her desk, she remained standing. Obviously, Tonaka had a network of his own.

Let's just say, we have simply had to take some precautions against losing our investment, she whispered, leaning close to Tonaka's face.

Have you been drinking? he half-accused, pulling away. What precautions?

Trying to increase the physical distance between her breath and Tonaka, she leaned back and swallowed hard. Reaching in her pocket she slipped out a stick of gum and devoured it to masque the gin. Such as ensuring that the natives in the flatlands do not unite. Maybe not immediately, but eventually, such a treaty would challenge our control in that region, she quickly countered, chomping frantically on the gum. The gooey glob stuck fast in the space left by the missing tooth. Juicy Fruit, Jalene concluded.

Removing his spectacles, Tonaka yanked a handkerchief from inside his torn Armani and began to clean the lenses nervously. At one time the suit was blue, maybe with pinstripes, but age and the combination of sweat stains and soup had turned it a blotchy gray.

And what about the mountains in the northeast? Tonaka asked.

Simply exploratory activity, sir. There are hundreds of acre–feet of surface water up there that can be drunk straight from the river or stream. And better yet, the people are greedy. They are willing to trade cool, clean water for trinkets and toys. The potential is almost amusing. Tonaka seemed to be actually contemplating what she just said. Sensing an opening, she continued. Sir, if I may. Not to change the subject, but I have an idea regarding sales.

Go ahead.

Feeling more at ease, Jalene took another cigarette from her desk drawer and lit it, slapping shut the cover of the metallic silver lighter.

Given the current local price of water at one credit per gallon and the lower west coast price of three credits per gallon, I might recommend that we limit local distribution and focus our supply exclusively outside of the region. Throwing her head back and pursing her lips, she blew a triumphant cloud of smoke.

The board has discussed the possibility, but some members have trouble with cutting local customers off. They feel a responsibility. They want to be known as the company that rebuilt the country –- not throttle it with thirst. People have come to depend on H2O and expansion of distant markets would dilute that trust, and to some extent, I would say that I have to agree.

But sir, that is the nature of business. Supply and demand, and all that.

"Jalene, you seem to be