Without the everyday services that the average individual took for granted, chaos erupted. Human rights that were commonly understood as inalienable and fundamental rights to which a person is inherently entitled simply because she or he is a human being suddenly did not apply. The uninformed stayed in cities, thinking that sooner or later the water would work again. It didn’t. Cries for help were sent out to surrounding nations, but no help came as those nations were dealing with similar issues.

Safety and survival became paramount. Wars raged for every body of fresh water on the continent. Few understood that without the proper treatment-system designs and reuse plans in place, those bodies of water would be short lived. Unless it was water-related, technology was irrelevant. Although still plenty of technology still was available, most people were not inclined to have the conversation. “What’s up?”—“I’m thirsty …” “Me too …”

Swaying through the Deadlands reaches reminded Jones that a mixture of distilled liquor and the wind rail wasn’t the best idea. If the Code Division of the Contingent happened to stumble upon a sick rider and discovered the reason, being an engineer wouldn’t save him. One to two years minimum working on the pipe installation would be the sentence—and that would be considered light.

Working on the pipe installation project was hard labor, not to mention quite dangerous. A majority of the pipe installation work was located within the Deadlands, where rations were sparse and consisted mostly of nutrient packs designed by the Treatment Division.

With all of the raids and dangerous working conditions, lasting a year or two on the job in The Deadlands was considered quite remarkable. The Contingents built security outposts to house Research, Design, and Development Divisions along certain portions of the pipe installation, but the mobile, makeshift camps for installation workers were unguarded.

Jones exited the wind rail and entered the RRD Outpost to an unexpected surprise. A group of Western Contingent Leaders and Engineers had made an impromptu visit and were meeting with a group of Mountain Leaders at the Design Consul. Jones had not received any missives informing him of this meeting and it appeared from the tone in the room that it was not a friendly one.

Downing, Jones’ superior, motioned for Jones to meet him in the adjoining room. “How much workforce could we actually remove off of pipe installation and continue with our current schedule?”

“At the rate that we resupply our ranks due to attrition, disease, and death, we possibly could afford to lose 200. Most of them would be from the layout crew of the second installation. The attrition in that group hasn’t been as bad because they haven’t entered the Deadlands yet,” he said. “May I ask why we would need to remove any of our installers?”

Downing laughed, “You should know by now, Jones, that all information and decisions are on a need-to-know basis, but let’s say the Western Contingent feels that our existing agreement doesn’t benefit them as well as they would like. They are here to change the agreement and will not supply without the terms being renegotiated. They feel that the work on desalination advances that their Treatment Division has performed is the only reason the Mountain Contingent will be able to survive, and they feel they deserve recognition and reward for their efforts.”

The “Contingnents:” He thought about the philosophy behind the name. “We will assist you and work with you—based on the contingency you will still be around and be a benefit to us.