Kurt began to work for the new government after the break up of the U.S. in 2040. He had graduated from his Masters Program and written his thesis on what he called, “Two American Revolutions”. It compared the time of the 1770’s to the 2030’s and the forces that created both the beginning and end of the United States. The work was extremely well received by academia in Atlantica.
He was approached by Atlantica to work in their new Historical Review Commission. The work was
recognized in Paris by the UN who was actively attempting to coordinate the collection of historical records of the U.S. Actually he found out afterwards that it was the pressure from the UN Historical Commission and Dr.
William Alexander that almost forced Atlantica to offer him the position. At first he refused to consider the new country’s work offer, thinking he may go to Europe like most of his friends had done. Some associates with whom he had become close while at the University of Pittsburgh and who were advocates of the new country, urged him to sign on with Atlantica. It was the “Wave of The Future,” as one of them had said to him. This plus his idealism and the practicality of working in historical research about his homeland convinced him to accept the offer. So he joined the Historical Commission and began his work with Dr. Alexander. Kurt found out in his first year working with the Commission, Anglo history was not a priority with Atlantica.
Kurt lived sparsely with only the basic necessities. He kept his prized personal possessions securely in his leather carrying case, which he had with him at all times. It was a sense of everything being temporary that Kurt felt. He remembered his father always had their most vital records and a set of emergency equipment, rations, and tools available in the cellar of their home. He said to Kurt that you should always have an emergency plan in place in case of any disaster, natural or man made. He never forgot this and the leather case contained his personal items, including his data-file with his complete ID required by all governments and the UN.
Citizens ID’s contained DNA, photos, voicescans and a life profile. He also had a few personal keepsakes such as a gold piece from his mother and personal discs with long ago special events spent with his family, including several video scans with his father before he died. Also, in his leather portfolio was his hand written history of the times in which he was living. He began this project when he started working with Dr. Alexander. The work picked up from where his Master’s treatise left off.
His parents always said his mind was his strongest personal possession. They constantly kidded him about living in his own world because so many times when, they were talking to him, he seemed to be somewhere else. His mind was always working on some new idea which he would write into his notebook. He preferred old fashioned way of recording, writing. It always felt more direct from brain to paper. Eventually, his thoughts, ideas and life experiences were written in his portfolio.
On the bridge, Kurt felt cool air hit his face as the temperature had dipped unseasonably low. He would need to dress warmer tonight when he began his journey. He stopped when he reached the center of the bridge. There were only two low-density light scans at either end and at the center it was dark. He thought of the old movies of London as he looked ahead through the foggy scene.
Kurt walked to the railing and looked down through the floating light at the abandoned roof of the skating arena, which had been built after the turn of the century. Beside the darkened arena were the yellow rail lights of the tram system. According to an article he read in the defunct Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, this was the most heavily used line of the old mono-rail system. That system went about thirty miles in six directions from the Golden Triangle, the center of the City. Now there were three tram lines which intersected in Center City where the three rivers met.
Kurt was suddenly aware of the sound of shuffling feet. He looked through the mist and could see a man walking towards him. He leaned over the bridge once again, as if unconcerned, then turned and began to walk towards the man. The shape ahead came into view as they both reached the center of the bridge. He was a large man with sloping shoulders. Kurt could hear his heavy breathing, as if the man was having physical
problems.“Who are you, Mister?” came a deep, gruff voice.
“A worker, that’s all”, Kurt replied softly.
“Where are you from?”
“Greenfield,” Kurt quickly answered. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m just checking. Couple hooligans ran over this way after trying to ransack a house over by the old CMU
campus. The System picked them up, but they must have sensed the signal. Anyway I’m looking for them. Got ID?” he groused.
Kurt reached into his data-file, pulled out his ID card and gave it to the man. He looked at the picture, read it the description, looked at Kurt, and then gave it back to him.
“Looks okay. Have you seen anybody in a hurry on the bridge?”
“Nobody, haven’t seen a soul since I left work.” He waited for a response. The man looked at him and didn’t say anything.
“Can I pass?” Kurt said quietly, trying not to rekindle any anxiety in the stranger.
“Sure, get on with yah. I see a couple more coming across up ahead there. I’ll find those bastards.”
Kurt walked passed the man. He was a Publican, whose duties were like the beat patrolmen of many years ago.
Most of them were Anglo ex-policeman from the U.S. time. Even though most of the Anglo population had left the area, some older workers with basic skills remained and were hired by the new government. As Kurt passed the man he could make out the uniform he was wearing. It was a blue with several red diamond shaped patches signifying External Security. This force had been highly successful in keeping the streets and businesses safe in the major cities of Atlantica, especially Pittsburgh.
“Keep your eyes open for those hooligans,” he called back to Kurt. Kurt picked up his pace as he crossed to the end of the bridge and headed his boarding house.
Kurt pounded up the narrow street with little light coming from antiquated solar street lamps. He knew this street brick by brick. As he reflected about his past and his upcoming departure, he thought of his best friend Raoul and Dr. Alexander his mentor and supervisor. He blurted out, “My God, Raoul and Dr. Alexander. I haven’t told them. Raoul will understand my leaving, but Dr. Alexander will not. I have to say my goodbye’s to them. They’re the only two people I have to see,” he continued.
Dr. Alexander, his eighty year old Anglo mentor, who taught Kurt everything there was to know about
historical research. Dr. Alexander was his boss, and Kurt knew he would be upset at his leaving. He was a fascinating man, who had fought in the Terror Wars of 1991 and 2003 in Iraq. As a professor at NYU in New York, he was almost killed in the 9/11 Terror Attack of 2001 in lower Manhattan. It changed his life. He re-enlisted at age thirty three after 9/11 and went back to Iraq where he was wounded. After returning, he resumed his teaching career and was still going strong at eighty. He had been a patriot of the U.S. And as a teacher, he believed in the yearnings throughout history of human struggle for freedom. As he mellowed, he believed strongly that negotiation and compromise were preferred over the killing of innocents for any reason by anyone.
Dr. Alexander’s wife was dead and his only daughter had left for England years ago with his grandchildren. It was shortly after his wife died, that he hired Kurt as his research assistant. In the ensuing years they had become close, both in their work pursuits and as friends. In the work place, the doctor researched historical events and their meaning, while Kurt supported him, especially in the data and analysis work.
Dr. Alexander was the only Anglo to head a department for the Administration. He was a world renowned historian and had been recommended for the position by the United Nations. His primary focus was to create a historical database on the new country and to develop a preservation program for the area’s history. This is the section where Kurt worked which allowed him to work late and on weekends without any apparent increased Security monitoring. Kurt realized that telling Dr. Alexander would be difficult and he would probably not want him to go. He had already said it on many occasions.
Raoul was a different story, knowing him he might want to throw a party. Raoul Lopez-Hernandez was a ‘life-liver’, as Kurt always called him. Raoul came from a humble background in Puerto Rico. He came to Pittsburgh and was hired by Atlantica because he was Latino with strong satellite communications skills. That was a positive aspect of the revolution when it had elevated a man of Raoul’s caliber to a top-level position. Kurt understood and appreciated Raoul getting this major professional break because he deserved all he ever received.
Raoul, his wife Luisa, and his youngest sister, Carla, lived in Squirrel Hill, not far from Kurt’s boarding house.
Dr. Alexander lived on top of Browns Hill Road, also a short distance from his house. Kurt would be able to stop by their homes before he began his journey. Raoul’s other sister, Maria, with whom Kurt had an intense romantic relationship last year, was now pursuing her career in France. Maria had been a highlight of his last years in Pittsburgh, but was a woman on a mission that did not include Kurt. His friendship with Raoul had endured and their relationship and had actually become stronger. Raoul’s basic decency, honesty, and great sense of humor, endeared him to Kurt. For some reason, even coming from completely different backgrounds they had hit it off. Not to have that friendship would be painful.
Ironically, Kurt felt as strong in his bond with Dr. Alexander, who had become not only a father figure, but a life figure; someone whose life and ethics he wanted to emulate. To be as vital as Dr. Alexander at his age, was what Kurt wanted with his own life at any age. It was going to be tough not to have these two men in his life in the years ahead.
Kurt’s mind wandered from Raoul and Dr. Alexander to a sudden tightness in his gut. He wondered if he was doing the right thing by leaving his home and this country. A smile spread slowly across his face as he realized how various levels of one’s thinking converged creating difficult choices for how one was to lead their life. He was confident of his decision to leave and how he was going to do it. It was rational, realistic, and probably more dangerous than he had anticipated.
Suddenly, light blossomed brilliantly as the full moon was freed from a quickly moving dark cloud mass overhead, a reminder to Kurt that no matter what humans do on this earth, nature just keeps rolling along.
“Well, old man,” as he looked at the outline of the same face he imagined he’d seen on the moon since he was a small boy,” I know I’ll see you no matter where I go.” He would be in his room in a few minutes and he walked even faster through the now dead black night as the skittish moon had disappeared once more.