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Authors: Gregg Rosenblum
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him look younger. “So, it’s Kevin, that’s correct?”
“Yes, sir, uh, Governor,” said Kevin.
“Do you know why you’re here?” the Governor said.
“No idea,” said Kevin. “I was kidnapped in the woods and brought here and now I can’t leave.”
The Governor shook his head dismissively. “No, no. I mean, do you know why you’re here in my office? Why I’ve taken you from your work assignment to come speak with me?”
“Still no idea,” said Kevin.
The Governor leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. “Tell me your story, Kevin. The short version.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” said Kevin.
“Where you’re from,” said the Governor impatiently. “Your background. How you got here.”
“Same thing I told the Captain,” said Kevin. “I lived in a Freepost. The bots torched it and killed and captured everyone. I got away, and I was minding my own business, looking for another Freepost, and then these bots”—he nodded angrily at the bot next to him—“broke my nose and knocked me out and dragged me here.”
“You’ve been inside a City,” said the Governor.
Kevin stiffened. “No,” he said.
“Son,” said the Governor, “you have a chip implant scar.”
“I’ve had that scar forever,” said Kevin. “I fell out of a tree . . .”
The Governor lowered his hands and leaned forward. “Kevin,” he said, “I am not yet completely senile, you know. Again, you have been inside a City.”
“No,” repeated Kevin. He knew he didn’t seem convincing, but he didn’t trust this man—why should he, when he was being held here as a prisoner?—and his instincts told him not to talk. If he admitted that he had been in the City, he’d have to explain how he got out. The Governor sighed. “Okay, I’ll let that go for now. However, I have heard reports that you have some technical knowledge. Correct?”
“Just a bit,” said Kevin. “I helped a little with the power grid back at the Freepost.”
The Governor nodded, then pointed down at the pile of circuitry on his desk. “Fix this,” he said.
“I don’t understand . . .” began Kevin.
“Kevin,” said the Governor, “understand this. The Island is home. This”—he gestured broadly with his hands—“is our haven. This is where we survive and even raise our families, safe from the Cities. But to make it a safe home, we all have to contribute. We work on the Wall. We guard. We hunt. We cook. We repair. You will work here. You might as well keep it interesting. Planing lumber gets boring.” He pointed again at the circuitry and held his scope glasses and a small nanoburner toward Kevin. “Fix it.”
Kevin looked down at the circuits. It was obvious, up close, what it was—just a simple power grid loop, probably from a small device like a cooking panel. He didn’t even need the scope glasses to see the problem. Kevin grabbed the nanoburner, the size of a tweezer, and snipped apart the connection where the ground was mistakenly looped in with the live relay, then with two more quick twists reset the loop into the proper configuration. Then he threw the tool onto the table, crossed his arms over his chest, and glared at the Governor.
The Governor raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t even need the glasses, did you?” he said. “You’ve got young eyes still.” He nodded. “Good. Thank you for that much honesty, at least. Now, you will return to your work group. However, you obviously have technical skills that are important here on my Island.” He nodded at the bot. “23 is now your supervisor. It will begin incorporating more tech work into your workload.” He turned to the bot. “Understood, 23?”
“Yes, Governor,” said the bot.
“Good,” said the Governor.
“Governor,” said Kevin, “where did you get all these bots?”
The Governor hesitated, frowning, and Kevin wondered if he was angry at the question. “I built them,” he said finally, then waved his fingers at
“Yes, sir, uh, Governor,” said Kevin.
“Do you know why you’re here?” the Governor said.
“No idea,” said Kevin. “I was kidnapped in the woods and brought here and now I can’t leave.”
The Governor shook his head dismissively. “No, no. I mean, do you know why you’re here in my office? Why I’ve taken you from your work assignment to come speak with me?”
“Still no idea,” said Kevin.
The Governor leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. “Tell me your story, Kevin. The short version.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” said Kevin.
“Where you’re from,” said the Governor impatiently. “Your background. How you got here.”
“Same thing I told the Captain,” said Kevin. “I lived in a Freepost. The bots torched it and killed and captured everyone. I got away, and I was minding my own business, looking for another Freepost, and then these bots”—he nodded angrily at the bot next to him—“broke my nose and knocked me out and dragged me here.”
“You’ve been inside a City,” said the Governor.
Kevin stiffened. “No,” he said.
“Son,” said the Governor, “you have a chip implant scar.”
“I’ve had that scar forever,” said Kevin. “I fell out of a tree . . .”
The Governor lowered his hands and leaned forward. “Kevin,” he said, “I am not yet completely senile, you know. Again, you have been inside a City.”
“No,” repeated Kevin. He knew he didn’t seem convincing, but he didn’t trust this man—why should he, when he was being held here as a prisoner?—and his instincts told him not to talk. If he admitted that he had been in the City, he’d have to explain how he got out. The Governor sighed. “Okay, I’ll let that go for now. However, I have heard reports that you have some technical knowledge. Correct?”
“Just a bit,” said Kevin. “I helped a little with the power grid back at the Freepost.”
The Governor nodded, then pointed down at the pile of circuitry on his desk. “Fix this,” he said.
“I don’t understand . . .” began Kevin.
“Kevin,” said the Governor, “understand this. The Island is home. This”—he gestured broadly with his hands—“is our haven. This is where we survive and even raise our families, safe from the Cities. But to make it a safe home, we all have to contribute. We work on the Wall. We guard. We hunt. We cook. We repair. You will work here. You might as well keep it interesting. Planing lumber gets boring.” He pointed again at the circuitry and held his scope glasses and a small nanoburner toward Kevin. “Fix it.”
Kevin looked down at the circuits. It was obvious, up close, what it was—just a simple power grid loop, probably from a small device like a cooking panel. He didn’t even need the scope glasses to see the problem. Kevin grabbed the nanoburner, the size of a tweezer, and snipped apart the connection where the ground was mistakenly looped in with the live relay, then with two more quick twists reset the loop into the proper configuration. Then he threw the tool onto the table, crossed his arms over his chest, and glared at the Governor.
The Governor raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t even need the glasses, did you?” he said. “You’ve got young eyes still.” He nodded. “Good. Thank you for that much honesty, at least. Now, you will return to your work group. However, you obviously have technical skills that are important here on my Island.” He nodded at the bot. “23 is now your supervisor. It will begin incorporating more tech work into your workload.” He turned to the bot. “Understood, 23?”
“Yes, Governor,” said the bot.
“Good,” said the Governor.
“Governor,” said Kevin, “where did you get all these bots?”
The Governor hesitated, frowning, and Kevin wondered if he was angry at the question. “I built them,” he said finally, then waved his fingers at
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