When the terminal had been put together, I laughed at how prehistoric it looked. The entire thing comprised of a keyboard, mouse, and a screen that displayed system status in green text on a black background. At the moment it showed a simple list of each machine that was monitored along with a highlighted green “operating” label next to it.
“I’ve got Jenkins down at the water reclaimer right now. Keep your eyes on the screen and I’m going to have him throw a wrench in the works-literally,” a young man who had introduced himself to me as Alan said. He lifted a radio to his lips. “All right, Jenkins, fire away!”
I heard a loud thunk as Jenkins inserted the piece of metal into one of the machine’s gears. Almost as quickly as the sound reached my ears, the terminal in front of me emitted a jarring alarm and the “operating” tag changed to “error” and started flashing. I stuffed my fingers in my ears and looked to Alan for instructions.
“All you or anyone else needs to do is punch in a brief series of keystrokes.” He demonstrated them for me. “The system will start a twenty-minute timer for the issue to be resolved. If the system is unable to start up again, it will emit another alarm. If the problem is one that requires long-term repair or something else beyond those twenty minutes, you put in a different series of keystrokes. These will of course be privy to yourself any individuals you choose to trust it to. I’m going to show you the pre-set command, but then I’ll show you how to change it so it can be completely unknown to me.”
The command to shut the alarm down completely was far more complicated than the temporary one. I wasn’t complaining. Complexity meant security. Alan opened up a window in the terminal that allowed me to set a new command, and I pondered for a moment before entering mine in.
Qu1s Cust0det 1psos Cust0d3s
‘Who watches the watchmen’-a terrible joke to be sure. Juvenal was originally dealing with the issues of marital fidelity, but over the centuries the phrase became associated with the potential for abuses of power. It was a saying that had certainly applied to my life as of late. Nobody was around to watch Gabriel other than me and look what happened. As for the numbers, I threw them in out of an abundance of caution. The odds of anyone knowing about my penchant for ancient poetry were astronomical. Still, I wanted to guard against the possibility that someone could figure it out. The random numbers would at least slow them down.
Of course, not everything about rebuilding the shelter wet smoothly. I was regularly beset upon by George and his acolytes, so much so that I made an effort to never travel through the shelter alone. Perhaps it was my instincts, but I saw taking these kinds of precautions as submission. Of course, I played it off as an effort to get to know people better. It was still tough for me to interact with others. I resolved to start by learning their names and at least one fact about them. The rest could come later.
Every night I stopped by the infirmary to check in on Odysseus. He seemed as spry as ever, zooming about his cage happily and burrowing in the wood chips to stay warm. I could hardly wait until he was cleared. People needed some hope, and this would give it to them.
Chapter Three
Two weeks flew by as everyone pitched in to ensure the comfort of the population. I even saw George working hard alongside Shannon, who had happily resumed her duties as a medic. He thumbed his way through containers of supplies, reading out their quantities to her while she scribbled the numbers down on a tablet. George looked up from his task and saw me. I shot him a quick smile and a nod. If he was going to play nice, there wasn’t any reason that I couldn’t do the same, right?
Everything was going better than I could have expected. Shelter systems were running well, and the simple operating system the guys had set up was working perfectly. On the day Odysseus was cleared, I asked everyone to gather during the evening meal. I was served another assortment of squares by a clean-cut young man and took my seat among Fiona, Eliza, and Marcus. Tonight’s dinner was a recreation of Thanksgiving dinner; there were cubes of turkey, finished with a touch of smoke flavor, cranberry jelly, stuffing, and sweet potato. I had to count to three between each bite. My stomach that was so used to the protein-enriched slop I subsisted on that I had suffered more than one bout of nausea since food production returned to normal.
Once I finished the last bite of my meal, I stood at my place with cup in hand and hit the side of it with my knife. “Ladies and gentlemen! If I could have your attention, please!” The entire gathering turned toward me and my mouth suddenly ran dry. Regardless of my leadership position, the notion of addressing a large group of people still never sat well with me. “I have an announcement, one that I’ve been eager to make for a long time now.”
“Is it that you’re an idiot?” One of George’s friends yelled from the back of the room. There was a nervous titter throughout the room.
“I’m afraid that
