The Facility: Cheap Labor Has Been Redefined

By Clifford Beck

It is 2059 and Portland, Maine, like so much of the world has become largely a war zone of crime and poverty. Resources are all but gone, and as the swans song of civilization rapidly comes to a close, the government develops a plan that officially does not exist. It is a plan designed to exploit the world’s last remaining resource – the beginnings of which lay hidden in an underground facility in the woods near Jay, Maine.

Now, Edward Drake, a banking analyst in Portland will have his suspicions confirmed as his life is destroyed by a government that seems to have run out of options. He will be torn away from everything he has ever cared about. With his life stolen from him, all he wants is to go home – to return to his wife, Ajna, to resume his life. This is the story of a governments attempt at self preservation, at any cost. And for Edward, there seems to be no way out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clifford Beck
• Release date: Sep 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463016787

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The Facility

Clifford Beck

Copyright©2012

Cover Design by Clifford Beck

Proof reader - Nanine Chace-Ortiz

Published through Smashwords

For My Wife, Sara

The end may justify the means as long as there is something that justifies the end.

Leon Trotsky

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 1

The year is 2059. Most of the world’s governments have collapsed and current estimates put the population at about ten point five billion. The global economy has gone belly-up, while the European Union has become splintered into separate economic states – each reverting back to their own independent currencies. This was done as a last ditch attempt to keep the planet from falling into the dark ages. Everyone thought it would work, but the damage had already been done and recovery seemed impossible. People were living from hand to mouth using whatever means necessary and society now teetered back and forth somewhere between survival and a protracted war. Overpopulation, poverty and threats of war wasn’t the worst that had occurred…fresh water had become a precious and rare commodity. It started in the developing nations. Fifty years ago, most third world countries were experiencing large scale protests over water and power shortages. At the same time, thirty six states in the United States were considered ‘water stressed’.

Things were much worse now, with wars being fought over water and terrorist groups attacking any villages that were even suspected of having water. It was not unheard of to read about people in the third world killing each other, even neighbors, to protect or steal a source of water. They only thing they were guilty of was trying to survive.

In the United States, whole cities had turned into deserts – Los Angeles, Dallas, Albany, St. Louis. The list grew every year while the states along the continental divide were still trying to suck the last few drops of water from the ever dwindling mountain runoff. It wouldn’t be long before even Denver would become an abandoned ghost town, another casualty of a planet that was slowly turning to sand. In congress, the usual bickering and partisanship prevailed; finding a solution would be impossible without teamwork. No one was willing to even consider that the human race was in the process of passing on, a victim of our own greed, selfishness and unchecked indifference towards a planet that gave us life – a planet that we had successfully managed to kill.

Due to conditions in the third world, the influx of illegal immigrants skyrocketed and in spite of new legislation designed to keep their increasing numbers in check, they just kept coming. Maybe they believed that they had a better chance of survival in the states – after all, anything was better than being shot for standing near a well. And if they couldn’t get into the country through the airline network, they’d sneak across the Canadian border. Eventually, the President was forced to close the borders and in time, Canada would follow suit. Even the wealthy began to feel threatened when their kitchen taps began to do nothing more than trickle out a few drops of discolored water. In the early twenty first century, the most valuable commodity was information – data. Now, it was water.

But the American attitude had not changed and the country was still heavily divided into the haves and the have-nots. The poor were even poorer while the wealthy still acted like a bunch of spoiled brats, refusing to make any contribution to the nation’s circumstances that might be seen as selfless. This attitude would change when even they would experience the symptoms of the countries dehydrated condition. So, a project was organized by the development of a private corporation that was funded by the wealthy in order to construct a number of industrial desalination plants that would be built up along the east and west coasts, tapping into the oceans and using a pipeline system to feed the country’s reservoirs. Most people believed that those who were funding the project did so out of selfishness. And even though we had essentially isolated ourselves from the rest of the world, the country seemed to take a long awaited sigh of relief.

But with the U.S. population at 600 million, it was too little too late and reforestation was seen as a complete failure. No one was able to grow trees in the sand. So, out of panic and greed, the wealthy pulled their money from the project and the desalination plants remained as local industries. The outcome was that areas surrounding wealthy enclaves would benefit from this technology and because it had now been turned into privately owned utility companies, only those who could pay the high rates would water. This left most of the country, once again, without adequate water and congress again began debating possible solutions. This time they consulted some of the greatest minds in science and technology. They reached out to places like MIT, Cal-Tech, RPI and the Navy’s marine research division and a ‘water summit’ was held. It was quickly determined – and to no one’s surprise – that there simply too many people and too few resources. And when the country closed its borders, many countries cried foul, freezing trade agreements and threatening to go to war. Only one possible solution stood out. However, many – even republicans considered it unthinkable. It was proposed by Dr. Simon Farnsworth, a demographics expert who stated that a page be taken from the internal policy of China’s one child per family rule. This seemed like a viable solution even though many in congress complained that the U.S. was now modeling public policy after the largest communist country in the world. But after some time, people came to the belief that this radical departure from what was held to constitutional would be very good for the country. And miraculously, every member of congress was on board with the idea, but the public was not. As a result, rioting escalated and protesters claimed that their constitutional rights were being violated and once again, America lay at the edge of anarchy.

Another possible solution was debated. This was such a radical idea that any discussions were held at a secret location, far from the prying eyes and ears of the press and without the approval of congress or even knowledge of the president. Republican congressman Stanley Rhye organized a secret meeting to be held outside Washington at the now abandoned Andrews Air Force base. He had contacted a small group of the country’s top genetic scientists who proposed an idea of their own – a national birth control program. This program would be operated under the guise of a new ‘well baby initiative’ and completely funded by the federal government as a way of screening both new and prospective parents for genetic anomalies that might affect their offspring. The details of the plan seemed flawless, but there was one small issue that needed to be resolved. What about those who failed the screening process?

Chapter 2

Congress Street was noticeably busier than usual and people filled the street as well as the sidewalk. They quickly walked around moving cars and ran across traffic – everyone seemed to be in a hurry. If you stood in one place and just listened it was easy to notice that the typical Maine accent was no longer part of the Portland human-scape. Outsiders and the passage of time had rendered it extinct. Fifty years ago, Maine had a hard working mostly white population. Over the years, there was an influx of immigrants, people of a races, creeds and colors from far off places. But when the world fell apart, Maine – for all its’ hard working ethics – slid downhill with it and many people found themselves living well below the poverty line. In the downtown district - every hour on the hour - every person would stop, their eyes rising up to the Key Bank jumbo-tron. Congress Street would become frighteningly silent, save for the one voice that everyone wanted to hear. The news was not only broadcast around the clock, but streamed live by satellite. Everybody watched in horror as the video played out on the immense screen. The images had been distributed to the entire world by Al Jazeera, an Arab television station with several broadcasting sub-stations scattered throughout the middle-east. They were always trying to make some grandiose statement that usually amounted to nothing more than a bit of saber rattling. But this time was different. This time, the country would be sent into a state of shock as the jumbo-tron displayed the scene of a small well somewhere in Yemen. It was surrounded by children as well as women clutching their infants – all had been shot on sight. The area was crowded with armed men wearing scarves around their faces and angrily babbling in Arabic. One held up a half-filled bottle of slightly sandy water and pointed a pistol at the camera lens while yelling threats to a, more or less, civilized world. He then turned back and fired on the dead women and children, as if words were somehow not enough.

Everyone was frozen in place as the horrific images and the sounds of gunfire deeply engraved themselves into the minds of all who watched. But as disturbing as it was to watch, many were unable to pull their eyes away. As the video came to a close and the news anchor tried desperately to maintain his composure, the silent air of Congress Street gradually became overshadowed by quiet weeping. Humanity had somehow managed to achieve a new low point that many saw as a portent of the future. One of those people was Edward Blake, who was standing near a hotdog stand when the video footage began. He watched with both amazement and horror as the images unfolded before his eyes. Tears slowly ran down his face and he became so involved in what he was seeing that, for a brief moment, he forgot where he was. Near the end of the video he suddenly gasped as though he’d seen the devil himself. And perhaps he had, but now he realized with blinding clarity the direction the world was truly taking and what some people were willing to do for half a bottle of dirty water.

Jesus Christ! he said to himself. What the fuck is wrong with these people?

I’ll tell ya what’s wrong! a voice answered.

It was the hotdog vendor. He preferred to be called ‘Teddy’ and appeared to be about forty five years old.

Teddy had worked this part of Congress Street for years, right across from what used to be the Portland Library. You wouldn’t have thought so, but he actually made a livable income from selling hotdogs, sausages and soda. Bottled water was expensive so he didn’t usually didn’t stock it. Edward slowly looked over at Teddy – his thoughts still haunted by what he had just seen.

What? he replied. Those people? Teddy answered.

They’re fuckin’ animals! If it were up to me, I’d go over there and kill every one of those motherfuckers!

I’m …. sure a lot of people feel the same way, Edward commented.

Goddamn right! Teddy said as he pointed at Edward with a pair of hotdog tongs. I mean …how much fuckin’ courage does it take to shoot a bunch of kids? That’s right…none! Those people are fuckin’ pussies.

Well, Teddy, said Edward. I’m glad that there’s someone around here with the balls to say what everyone else is thinking. Hey! Teddy replied. Don’t I always tell it like it is?

Edward now found himself looking at Teddy with a kind, patient face and nodding gently.

You always do, he said.

Edward began to walk away as Teddy made one more final angry proclamation.

Fuckin’ right!

Teddy then turned back to his hotdog cart as Edward made his way up Congress Street.

He stopped at a local convenience store near the intersection of Congress and Forest Ave. to pick up a newspaper and a pack of ‘Blue Flames’. The manufacturing of tobacco had been outlawed about ten years earlier, so even cigarettes went digital. The insurance companies had organized their own lobbyists and were able to buy enough congressional votes to make the growing of tobacco illegal. With this new legislation, the insurance companies were able to save billion in healthcare payouts to doctors and hospitals. Naturally, they would not lower their premiums. As for the tobacco companies, the government replaced their plantations with marijuana fields. They would be funded by the government, but managed by the executives who formerly ran the tobacco industry and would operate closely with pharmaceutical companies.

Continuing to watch the news on the LCD screen in the convenience store Edward commented to the clerk,

God, we are so fucked!

Depressing, isn’t it? the clerk said. Imagine what things will be like in another fifty years.

Well, Edward said. I’m not so sure I wanna be around for that.

Ya know, the clerk reacted. Watchin’ this bullshit makes me think I’d be better off living in the woods somewhere, livin’ off the land - just me and my own thoughts.

Edward turned to the clerk with a slight smile. That’s not a bad idea, he said.

He left the convenience store and got on the number four bus to the Rosemont district which now lay as the border between Westbrook and what was referred to as the ‘Portland war zone’. The buses now ran on ethanol and were constructed with heavy gauge steel and ballistic glass. The driver drove as quickly as he could so as to get through Portland without being fired on. Edward got off on the far side of the Rosemont district just a few blocks from Capisic Field. It was getting dark and he quickly made his way to his house, going in through the back door. Gang warfare and looters had begun to slowly encroach further into the Rosemont district. This prompted Edward to fortify their front and back doors as well as the first floor windows. He had also recently purchased a gun. He always knocked on the back door first as it had been agreed that a specific tapping rhythm be used for safety. He would then unlock the door and walk in.

Chapter 3

Edward was happily greeted by his wife Ajna who worked in an emergency clinic in Westbrook. She was a strikingly beautiful woman in her late twenty’s with curves that would make an hourglass jealous. She arrived in the U.S. from India with her parents when she was a child. Eventually, she attended Harvard Medical School and did her residency at Maine Medical Center. After becoming licensed as a practicing physician, Ajna decided to stay and put down roots. When they met, Edward was working as a banking analyst at TD AmerAsia. He studied at Vermont College in Burlington and upon receiving his Ph.D. in finance took the first job that was offered to him and found himself working for the Chinese. Seven years ago, U.S. intelligence reports revealed that in order to collect the debt owed to them China had made plans to launch a neutron bomb attack against every major city and military installation in the country. With eighty five percent of the population dead they would simply cross our borders and take control of the country’s infrastructure. When this intelligence reached Washington the president tried to open a dialog, but the Chinese demand at least forty percent of their loan money or they would go to war. So, the U.S. gave in and turned over control of forty percent of the banking system to the Chinese government. It was now required by TD AmerAsia that Edward learn Mandarin, as he would have to occasionally go to high level meetings at corporate headquarters in Beijing. Now,