The Wandering Island Factory Page 22

  Chapter 21

  "It's the first day of spring and World Bank has officially ceased their lending cooperation," George announced over the late night airwaves. "Is this the end of money as we have known it? I don't know for sure. I still collect a paycheck in good old American dollars, but I haven't dealt with a bank in years. Within the last few months, like a lot of the world, I have embraced barter. I receive a portion of my pay in food deliveries and oil rations. Rations. Who would have thought that rationing on par with what the world went through with WWII would ever return? Remember, only officially stamped rations with the holograms are to be accepted. This month is green."

  Gina looked at Jason as the boat drifted in international waters off the coast of southern California. Rations. They had decked in the starboard side all the way to the pontoon, with the exception of the area around where the tidal generator was fastened. The deck was covered with little wooden rows of rich topsoil, about eight inches deep. Peas, beans, lettuce, and a few stalks of corn were already showing great promise in this tropical weather.

  Ava had found the gardener's seeds at the mansion before it was torched, and they got away with as much soil as they could carry before the currents near the coasts kept them out for another year.

  "Food" George said. "It looks like the psychic predictions of two years ago have come true. The world seems to be embracing a new currency, based on calories. More in a few minutes, after this." And the program went to commercial.

  Jason pointed up to the northern sky, "Look at that."

  The sky flickered like a gentle flame, or an old-fashioned lava lamp. The tips of the aura filaments turned fluorescent blue, in incredible contrast with the dark of the night sky. "It's beautiful, no doubt. But every day we spend out here feels like we're just pushing our luck. One good storm is all it would take to end this little boat. We have to put to ground again, somewhere. Eventually. It might as well be sooner while all the equipment is still working than later, after things start breaking down."

  "Panama," George continued with the program, "is starting to open for traffic, almost one year since it was decimated. This just in, the coastguard has verified that, at specific times and while holding to tightly regimented courses, boats are able to traverse the gullies that now connect the Pacific and Atlantic oceans. This is very good news indeed, because since the closing of Panama to commercial traffic, the world's exports and imports had nearly collapsed. Hopefully, this is a good sign, though obviously not for the poor people of Panama who have lost most of their country to erosion. Experts predict that this increased trade between countries will lead to a much needed easing of tensions and, with luck, a backing down of the rhetoric of most governments.

  Next is a most unfortunate piece of news. Two months after Iran halted all exports of oil from the country because of chronically late imports of food shipments, China, Iran's largest consumer of oil, has declared war and has, at last count, detonated three nuclear warheads in the heart of Iran. Details are still sketchy at this point as to which cities have been hit or the estimated death figures, but military experts predict land invasions are eminent. And if Iran's claims of their own nuclear program are correct, a counter attack seems very likely, indeed.

  Such is the problem with bluffing. It only works as long as nobody ever calls you on it.

  Canada, our neighbor to the north, is poised to have another record year for crops. The farm equipment shortages of last year have largely been met, and the Canadians have put in a request for experienced field labor. Unlike last year, they are planning to open their boarders, but please, be prepared to be turned away as their labor department predicts a need for only six hundred thousand temporary workers this year. Of course, we are all aware of the thirty-six percent unemployment rate here in the States. But let's not get too angry at our neighbors, ok, six hundred thousand is a big help indeed."

  Gina turned the radio down, "Panama's open?"

  "Canada is hiring, and there's a thirty-six percent unemployment rate," Jason said. "I don't know how to interpret that, but it doesn't look like they need waitresses or people to drill holes." Jason turned the radio back up.

  The lawn chairs on the roof behind the control cabin were still their preferred place to relax at night. The AM radio signal was clear and, this close to the equator, tended to drift less. The temperature was pleasant, the bugs were few, and it seemed to only rain during the day.

  It was incredibly peaceful and the northern lights, though rarely as bright as this night, still gave the horizon a pleasant little glow.

  "I wish I had seen for sure if that tank eventually blew and that mansion burned down," Jason said after a few minutes.

  "I'm sure it did. And if it didn't go because of the water heater, it should have with the gas leak. I wouldn't worry too much about it."

  But he was worried, he found himself haunted by that mansion often. "Sure, your fingerprints aren't all over it."

  "You wore gloves after you found the bodies, right? What's the problem? It isn't like you killed anyone, you just looted and destroyed evidence so the murderers can never be caught. Plus creating CO2 without a permit or paying the tax, and cremated without a license to cremate in California."

  Jason sat up. "That's not funny, you know I've been trying to get my cremation license for the past four years. Damned bureaucrats!"

  Gina laughed, then leaned over and kissed him on the lips.

  "Why haven't we ever gotten much past this?" he asked.

  Gina did her best impersonation of her mother. "I'm too young and too pretty to be a grandmother!" she said as she poked him in the chest with her finger. "And doing it on a boat a hundred miles from land isn't the best idea I can think of." She leaned back in the chair and stared at the sky. "We're a very fertile people, Jason. That gym coach got caught when he took me to get another abortion, and it raised a lot of red flags the way he was waiting in the parkinglot."

  When George came back on and introduced his psychic, alien abduction guest, they listened quietly, and Jason didn't bring up the subject again.

  They brought up the nightly news to the rest of the family that morning. Nobody took it well, but it wasn't unexpected. The parasail worked perfectly in the open sea, but it proved problematic in coves and navigating channels like Panama. But Panama was still tempting, because, as devastated as that tiny country was, it was still a center for trade. If they were to get top trade for the boat, it would be there. But Panama offered something else, too. It offered access to the Gulf of Mexico and what was the Mississippi River. It was massively flooded now and nearly split the country down the middle, but the businesses that were thriving were all located down those banks and inland to either side. There seemed to be an east America and a west America, with the middle flooded out.

  The flow of the river, to their best guess, had to be greatly reduced. That meant that it may have been possible to sail up it. It was now wide enough, reportedly, to be possible as well. But it wasn't like with the cove, if they went, there was no going back. They would be committed.

  They had some decisions to make as a family. But with all the news seeming to be bad, the general consensus was to wait and see until next year.

  Besides, the mini garden seemed to be doing fine, and fish were biting everywhere.