Construction Science Fiction: Contingency
When the dust settled from the chaos of the fall of the United States, the four Contingents were born: Western, Eastern, Mountain, and Great Lakes. The basic premise were agreements struck between the Contingents, depending on the usefulness and benefit of the agreement for each Contingent.
The areas between each Contingent’s boundaries were known as the Deadlands. Although one could survive, the Deadlands were considered an area of “freedom” out from under the thumb of the Contingent’s strict rules and restrictions. Freedom was guaranteed; death was probable.
“This meal is highly illegal and a bit unethical,” Jones thought to himself. However, being an engineer for the Mountain Contingent had its perks, which included the occasional distilled beverage and unconditioned beef. After the restrictions agreed upon between each Contingent to maximize water resources for the new piping project, some pastimes came up against Contingent code and were punished accordingly.
Distilled liquor and processed meat were prime examples of waste: Liquor dehydrates the body, causing unneeded moisture loss from the human system, and the Contingent’s treatment division discovered that processing, or “drying” the butchered livestock, harvests more water than allowing the less efficient human body to process it.
As the Contingent’s motto states: “Every Drop Counts”.
Jones savored the last of his meal and drink as he looked out over the arid mountainscape. These mountains were once covered with snow. Generation after generation had skied on them. This thought had always perplexed him. After the weather patterns changed in the 30s, the only place one could see skiing was on old videos, and who wanted to watch that? It was like an elder looking at photos of their youth and wanting for something that will never come again. Waste.
Jones finished his meal and began making his way down to the wind rails to take him out to the site for his shift. The first of four planned transmission pipes that would bring desalinated water from the Western Contingent was almost complete. Although there had been a few snags, mostly from raids from the Unwanted tribe in the Deadlands, the pipe would be fully commissioned after the plant repairs from the San Andreas Disaster were finished. The new reservoirs within the settlement had all been installed and tested and were prepared to accept water. “Now if I just don’t screw up my part of the design,” he thought.
Due to the weather changes, natural disasters weren’t natural disasters anymore; they were expected. Civilizations that didn’t prepare and plan for worst-case scenarios quickly discovered that their civilizations weren’t going to last. Out of the new disasters the Department of Treatment was born. Although at the start of the 21st century reuse and recycling of resources had started to become a priority, by 2045 reuse had become a necessity.
Any material that was used—be it solid, liquid, or gas—was researched by the Department of Treatment to determine its reuse possibilities. The biggest breakthrough occurred in 2035, when the processing of human waste made great strides from designs earlier in the century to allow individualized systems to be created. Although these systems were made available to residents, albeit wealthy ones, the power requirements made the individual design impractical. Existing municipalities found they did not have the funds to upgrade systems and their constituents did not feel it was the best way to expend already shrinking coffers.
By 2055, the area formerly known as the United States of America enacted martial law to try and stave off the impending water crisis. It didn’t work. The populace rebelled due to the perceived violation of their “God-given” human rights.
What the populace didn’t understand was that the act of martial law was the last breath of a dying nation, too far in debt with too many enemies. Previous pleas for conservation of resources had gone unheeded.
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.
Desalination research and implementation could be the sliver of hope for a return to normalcy. Although previously an inefficient and expensive venture, the survival of the human race—particularly the Mountain Contingency—hinged on it.
If a spat regarding legacy and favors threatened to derail everything that the Mountain Contingency had been planning for during the last twenty years, maybe advanced civilization had not come as far as Jones had hoped.
Patrick Roberts, who wrote this story on a plane ride, is a registered professional engineer in Colorado, as well as registered certified construction manager. He works on the Infrastructure Specialties team at Martin/Martin Inc., which focuses on water and wastewater design as well as accompanying construction management services for those projects. He also provides construction management services for capital improvement projects for numerous water and sanitation District projects. Coordinating with multiple cities, counties and states often is required. He says, “I hadn’t written science fiction before the plane ride. I wrote prior short stories when I went to Colorado State University, but never a story based in a science-fiction world. However, I have enjoyed reading science-fiction and fantasy books since I was a kid all the way up to today. I do enjoy the idea of imagining the future—how bleak circumstances could become—and trying to get a sense of how a human being would deal with it. I believe if you told a person even a hundred years ago that human beings would be where they are in regards to construction technology, most would not believe you or would think you were crazy. That is why it is a fun exercise and something I enjoy doing.”
To see all of the Construction Science Fiction stories, click here.
