Vladimir Todorov - Archipelago N.Y. - Flynn

After having studied his son’s face for a very long time, Alan Perry lowered his gaze.

“Flynn, I’m not going to talk about what you do… or what you plan to do…” The man was struggling to find the words with which to continue. “…I tried to raise you as best as I could… to prepare you for the harsh reality of life here… to keep you safe and out of trouble…”

“Yeah, I know that,” said Flynn, looking down at his feet.

“You’re a big boy now… and soon I’ll be gone.”

“Hey! Don’t say that!” Flynn’s eyes were now on his father.

“Let’s not pretend, son! You know I’m not going to be around for much longer. I’ll be on the Departure List sooner rather than later… My time’s running out!”

“But…” Flynn’s eyes were getting wider with every word, “they’ll keep you, right? Like Mr. Kowalski… You’re one of their best Watchmen… they won’t let you go. They’ll make you an ancient…”

“Flynn!” Alan Perry leaned forward, holding his head in his hands. “I can’t see that well anymore!”

“But you saw me today, didn’t you?” There was a note of hope in Flynn’s voice. “I was on the East border… I waved at you… and then you gave me the signal from the Tower…”

“No, son,” Alan Perry said, shaking his head now. “I’m sorry, I didn’t! Uncle Dale saw you. He set the signal off… He’s been covering for me quite a bit of late… but it won’t go unnoticed.”

Flynn jumped up and turned away from the table. He had expected an argument with his father over the scavenged wine bottle, the fish he had traded, the Trials… anything but this… Officer Foley’s words were echoing in his ears now… and Dino’s… both had said something about his father being on the Departure List this year… Flynn knew how things were going to play out if his father wasn’t able to do his job as a Watchman any more… Alan Perry had been preparing him for that moment ever since he was old enough to understand… And in a way, Flynn, like all the kids on the Lower Side, understood it all… It seemed perfectly normal to them… It was what happened to people when they got to a certain age… No longer able to work and contribute to the community, these people became a burden that the rest couldn’t carry around. They were dead weigh, and they had to make room for the young blood, the new working force. The old and infirm simply had to go!

The Government had not announced the date for the Departure Ceremony, but Flynn knew it could be any day now. They would let people get complacent, hopeful that they might get lucky, borrow some more time… And then, the Departure List would come out with the names of the people who were going to be retired. The Government would throw a big farewell party, known as the Departure Ceremony, thanking those on the List for all their hard work and contribution to the community… They would then put the chosen ones on a raft and escort them away from the city. The raft would be supplied with a small quantity of food and water and set adrift… And that was that! What became of the people on the raft was anybody’s guess… they either died from thirst and starvation, or from the Flood Virus, if they reached the contaminated mountain ridges west of the Archipelago. .. Nobody ever came back.

Yes, Flynn had always known this day would come… that his father would end up on the List and go to the Ceremony… Then Flynn’s turn would come, if he ever lived to be that age… He would have to leave, just like all those before him. This was how things worked, thought Flynn… His mind had been so focused on the Trials and getting ready for the big day that he had stopped paying attention, forgotten about the Archipelago’s tradition and ignored his own father. Flynn had always thought he would be ready for this moment when it arrived… that he would be able to handle it well… accept it and get on with life… But now, he wasn’t so sure.

“If you’re on the List,” said Flynn, “then we’ll think of something…”

“There’s nothing we can do, son.” Alan Perry shook his head.

“There must be!” Flynn began to pace up and down the little room, thinking furiously on his feet. “I’ll hide you, Dad!” he cried. “I know of places… underwater… air pockets… You’ll be OK… I’ll bring you plenty of food and…”

“Flynn, stop!” Allan Perry whispered. “Don’t even think of doing such a foolish and dangerous thing. If I’m on the List, then so be it… Don’t fight it.”

Flynn opened his mouth to say something then closed it. He saw the resignation in his father’s eyes… Alan Perry had always been a stickler to the rules… He had obeyed the Greater Good protocols and never broken a single law in his life… Suddenly, Flynn felt angry at his father. How could the man be such a coward?

“So, you’ll just let them take you away?” Flynn asked. “You won’t let me try to help you?”

“No, I won’t let you.”

“You’d rather die, then?”

“Who knows? Maybe it won’t be the end of me… Maybe I’ll reach Dry Land and live…”

Startled, Flynn looked up. “You know there’s nothing but ocean out there! Everybody knows that!”

“Mr. Kowalski would disagree,” Alan Perry said and laughed suddenly. He got up, walked over to Flynn and threw his arm around his shoulders. “Forget everything I’ve told you… Right now we’ve got us some fresh fish to cook. What do you say, son?”

Flynn swallowed hard then looked at his father. He knew the man was done talking, and Flynn had to respect that. “Sure,” he mumbled and managed a weak smile. “Let’s do that.”

But Flynn was no longer hungry. The last thing he wanted to think about was food…

Marcus Van Zandt stood by the window and took a sip of his instant coffee. It tasted bitter, although he had dropped two spoonfuls of sugar in his cup and some of that powdered milk they still had in his well-stocked kitchen pantry. He knew the bitterness came from the water. No matter how they treated and filtered it, the Archipelago’s drinking water still had traces of salt. Van Zandt had, of course, enough supplies of bottled water, but he thought it was a waste to use it for his morning coffee… He tried to recall the taste of real coffee and real milk then brushed that memory away quickly. Let bygones be bygones… These things from the past would never make it back into his life. Real or not, he was holding a mug of steaming coffee in his hand! Who else in this city, all things considered, had such a privilege these days? No one, except him and a handful of his most trusted men. That fact always gave him great pleasure. His thin lips stretched into a smile. It was the smile of a survivor… a truly victorious survivor.

Van Zandt leaned on the window and gently drummed his fingers on the glass. Yes, he had real glass on his windows, not those nasty nylon sheets that the Lower Siders used. A few scattered bullet holes dotted the glass, but Van Zandt never bothered having them covered up, or the glass replaced. They were a reminder of the battle that had raged in his building many years ago… The battle that his father had fought and won! It had become his ritual to start the day here at the observation deck, on what used to be the 102nd floor of the Empire State Building. Of course, it was no longer called that… Now it was known as the Van Zandt Building and from its penthouse windows, he had a 360 degree view of the sprawling Archipelago. His Archipelago!

He was looking north at an area once called Central Park, and which now lay buried under millions of gallons of ocean water. It was home to his Floating Desalination Plant, part of the Van Zandt Water Solutions Company… The company that gave him the power to hold the Archipelago and its people in his iron grip… The only source of fresh water that sustained life in this God-forsaken place, he thought happily.