Chapter Eight: The Tower Test

A few months passed, and the work continued. The Communities grew, but nobody was thinking long term yet. Or more accurately, everyone was thinking long-term, but had different ideas. Waiting for instruction was harder than they thought it would be, but there was plenty to talk about in the meantime.

Beckah came over casually as an Elder's Meeting broke up, and sidled up to Alec. "So, what's the latest?"

Alec chuckled. "Not content to wait for announcements? They come at every mealtime now."

"There are rumors that we're starting a new construction project. Something more major than the quick-builds." Beckah told him. "A new Highway? From one Circuit to the next?"

"‘Highway' might be overstating it. And it's not to the next circuit, it's to the Hub, where they're organizing the stockpiles." Alec nodded. "We're not making a road, we're relaying a current one. The announcement will be over dinner, calling for volunteers. One thing that's odd? The reason we need to re-lay it, is because we've been told to make it a little wider than the standard roads we've been using all this time. Ten centimeters, to be precise."

"Why ten centimeters wider?" Beckah asked.

"No idea." Alec admitted. "But Roland says the direction came from someone with wings, so obviously, we can assume there's a reason. If we want to build a road between us and the Restoration Hub, it has to be ten centimeters wider than the roads we've been using until now; and every new structure has to be built at least fourteen meters away from a road. We're actually going to have to move a few of our quick-builds. Apparently that goes for highways and laying tracks as well. If we could ask Rachel, I bet she'd have some brilliant insight on why it makes sense."

~~/*\~~

"Ten Centimeters wider?" Rachel repeated. "Every road?"

"Yup." Kevin Bagley confirmed. "And fourteen meters clearance. Every road and highway, every train track we're laying. The ‘Judges' say to make them all wider by exactly ten centimeters. They say this is a directive from the Highest Authority. The rest of the team is torn between obeying and trying to talk someone out of it, since it means we'll eventually have to tear up every train track, every highway… For the want of less than a foot."

"Well that's just plain loopy." Rachel declared.

"Oh, there's a scientific response if ever I heard one." Bagley scoffed. "You got those plans?"

"Yup, ready to present." Rachel nodded. "Lead the way."

~~/*\~~

Once a week, the Conference met to discuss conclusions that each team had reached, plans they had made, and how they would begin. These meetings didn't always include everyone. Not all departments had something to report.

Rachel recognized Benedict, also making his way towards the meeting. She wandered over so that they walked together. "An extra ten centimeters?" She quipped to him. "This is what God directs you to do? Tear up every road, train track, highway…"

"Well, to be fair, we're ignoring most of the cities. It's not like we wouldn't need to create new infrastructure anyway." He told her.

"Do you even know why?"

"There are a few ideas, but nothing has been made obvious yet." Benedict didn't seem concerned. "In Ancient times, God commanded his people on quarantine and diagnostic methods. They were very, some would even say, exhaustively detailed. But it was several thousand years before the human race caught up and learned the word ‘germs'. Those early believers obeyed the strict letter of The Law without ever understanding why, but who knows how many lives they saved?"

Rachel shrugged, conceding that. "At some point, all those people will come back, and we'll tell them why, won't we?"

"Oh yes." Benedict seemed to be looking forward to that immensely. "Speaking of that, have your scholars figured out how to organize the Education System yet? History lessons will be important soon."

"History courses break down at two thousand year mark, let alone six thousand." Bagley told him, having joined them. "But I shouldn't have to tell you to have faith. Everyone who comes back? They'll have something to tell us about their day."

The three of them arrived at the Meeting Hall doors, which were closed. The sign on the doorknob said there was a meeting in progress. In no rush, the arriving teams settled in to wait, making conversation.

"So, you know what we've come to talk about." Benedict said. "Some of it anyway. What have you got?"

"Rachel's latest invention." Begley said grandly.

Rachel swatted him and pulled out the blueprint. "You're always saying, the priority at this point is transport and communications, right? Well, the former is not my field, but the latter? I came up with this."

Benedict looked it over. "A solar powered cell tower?"

"Something we never had in the old days. No encryption, because nobody's spying, and no phone companies trying to protect their market share, so it can handle more bandwidth than most. No power companies needing to measure how much juice is needed, and what their share of the profit is, so it can just… do what it's meant to do. Forever."

"What's the range?"

"Not as far as I'd like, but they can mesh network and load balance evenly between towers." Rachel explained. "So I figured I'd ask for a test program." She looked around. "I was going to ask Eric how production was shaping up."

"Well, you know the plan. Everyone gets a copy of the blueprints, the work is crowdsourced. Someone makes a dozen copies of one part, someone else makes a dozen copies of another part, assemble and go."

"Another method that didn't work back in the old days." Bagley observed. "You'd have to negotiate royalties and contracts with a thousand different people, and worry about copyright infringement the whole time."

"The flaw of a world with technology." Rachel grinned. "It only works when it works."

"How many to cover the world?"

"Whoa, seriously…" Rachel waved that off. "I was hoping for a few hundred to cover the Region. This is a Proof of Concept thing."

"You haven't tested it?"

"We built four of them." Bagley said. "Ran them through every test we could think of, all sorts of scenarios, traffic load… But for a whole Region? That's going to take a lot of building, a lot of assembly, and a lot of transport. The good news is, once they're set up they're fairly idiot-proof, so…"

Benedict smiled. "A few hundred?"

"It's the minimum number to make it worth it." Rachel explained. "We'd be able to expand the Conference by several hundred kilometers in every direction. No more scheduling the use of the space or resources around the building for testing."

Benedict almost laughed. "Oh, and you were doing so well, too." He leaned forward. "You've been talking about how things have changed, since the old days. What makes you think you should ask for the bare minimum?"

Rachel blinked. "There are dozens of projects here-"

"Yup. All of them important. But the priority is communication and transport." Benedict spelled it out. "In 1918, our brothers were facing bitter opposition, because of the war. The headquarters were shut down, and their printing plates destroyed. In 1919, they were able to start again. At the time, The Society outsourced their printing to commercial outfits. But at the time, the economy was in trouble, there was labor disputes all over the place. So when they made the move of the Headquarters in Brooklyn, they considered doing their own printing. They decided to test if it was God's Will that they do this. They came up with the ‘Coal Test'."

"What was it?" Rachel asked. She'd never heard this.

"Coal was a premium product during the war. And the Brothers were not popular at the time, so they had trouble getting their orders in. Such shortages originally decided where they would Base the Headquarters. So for this test, they ordered 500 tonnes. A ridiculous amount. But they got it." Benedict smiled. "It was decided that this was a demonstration of God's Support for their plans. Same with the printing press. There were very few of them in the country at the time; but they got one. In less than a year, they went from being shut down, to being well equipped, well staffed, and printing their own material."

(Author's Note: See the ‘Proclaimers' book, page 577.)

Rachel stared at him. "So… what do we do?"

"You're about to ask for a few hundred of these Comm Towers?" Benedict reasoned. "Order ten thousand."

"What?" Rachel laughed. "That'd be enough to cover a quarter of the planet."

"Then make it forty thousand." Benedict told them. "Cover the entire planet."

Bagley was also laughing, when that comment gave them pause. "The whole world? Why?"

"We'll get to that." Benedict told them. "Listen, there's a conference going on in the next room about how we're going to handle finance. When you're done making your pitch here, I'd like you to sit in on it."

~~/*\~~

Rachel and Kevin came into the committee meeting as requested. They weren't the only ones observing the discussion.

"I don't pretend to know what financials will look like in the future, but bartering stuff you grow in your backyard won't work for everyone's dream of what to do with Paradise... I have a daughter. She loves charcoal sketching. She's professional level good. She made a good living doing portraits for people in markets, and selling them cheap. She can make a living and follow a passion with nothing but charcoal. To her, paradise is walking around and drawing things. She doesn't need much. Food, shoes, paper, and a burnt stick."

Everyone chuckled a bit.

"Eric, there's going to be people who want to do huge things. How do we reconcile the two under a single system?"

"In OS, there had been some talk about a guaranteed basic wage, due to mechanical takeover of the workforce. Too many people being replaced by robotic assembly lines. That's a problem we may not have again, at least not anytime soon. But at some point we'll have billions upon billions of people here. Same problem. Too many people without a job. A basic wage guarantee may be the best hope of them all."

"And who says that we won't have assembly lines at some point anyway? We're trying to mass produce things now." Rachel put in simply.

"What's the incentive to work?"

"Improvement." Benedict put in. "God's promise of paradise was that everyone would eat and have a home. Isaiah 65:21 says ‘They will build houses and live in them'.  That language didn't include exceptions. But having a home and having a plush couch or a TV is not the same thing. People can work hard, have a job, or they can not."

"If there's one thing that the last hundred years has taught us, it's that forcing all people to fit a particular mold doesn't work. This is the option that has the most flexibility."

"Also, just remember that nobody's saving for retirement anymore." Benedict added. "Working for pennies will still give you a fortune if you live simple for long enough. None of the former money systems will work anymore. How does a young brother or sister look for work when nobody ever retires, even after centuries? The old system of economics was that you start at the bottom and work your way up, but with everyone living forever..."

Nobody had an answer to that.

"I..." Rachel hesitated. "My grandfather wanted to retire. He had a hundred plans of what he would do once he wasn't working any more. He never got a chance to do any of them." She trailed off and stuck to the point. "Nobody prays for more hard work. The things we do when our time is our own is what we love. We, of all people, know that people will put effort into what they want to do, regardless of what it pays. Imagine how many people in the old system would have pioneered if they never had to worry about money at all."

"That's a fair point, Rachel; but the flip side of your grandfather's story is also true." Eric put in. "When my grandfather died, he left us some money. Money that we didn't know he had set aside for us. But some of the wealthiest people in the world inherited their fortune without having to work. What happens when nobody dies? There's no such thing as 'preparing a will' anymore. We all have to work for ourselves now, and the pressure will be lower, and certainly more honest, but… We've got a whole planet full of people who are still waiting to figure out what they plan to do with eternal life. I don't know anyone, and neither do you, who said: I'm going to dig ditches for a living. If none of them have an incentive to do the hard part, then the world won't rebuild. Someone always has to scrub the toilets."

Rachel had no answer to that.

"Nobody's saying that people won't want paying jobs, even if they're distasteful. If they're saving for something, it's a question of how long they'll need to save. The point is that people can work as hard as they want, earn as much as they want. If they want the money for something, then let them earn it. If they don't, then don't let them starve."

"But where does that ‘guaranteed wage' come from? Will we need taxation?" Someone asked. "We've got a lot of building to do."

"Taxes for what?" Eric fired back. "The entire world spent more than half its total wealth on warfare a year ago. National defense? There aren't even nations any more. Disaster relief? Also gone. Policemen? Hospitals? The cost of living is going to be a whole lot lower than it used to be."

"For that matter, we're all here now. Who's paying for the food we're eating? The beds we sleep in? Come to that, the organization never collected tithes. Who paid for printing and shipping and Kingdom Hall construction a year ago?"

"All that was voluntary. But they could volunteer because they had a way to pay the bills."

"And what are the bills now?" Benedict put in. "There has never been a post-scarcity society. The entire human timeline has had people desperate to find one resource or another. It was food and water, then it was gold, then it was oil, then it was money, then it was food and water again. People have spent six thousand years having to work hard for a living. What would ‘for a living' look like if we never feared death?" He looked earnestly at them all. "I'm serious, guys. Hunger has been our motive to go to work for way too long."

(Author's Note: I elected to take this route, based on recent economics studies (From secular experts) which suggested a basic guaranteed wage would grow the world economy by trillions per year, by encouraging spending, and removing fear of bankruptcy. There is little in the literature on the subject of economics in the New World; though all points agree that money will no longer be a source of either stress, or haughtiness. The most recent reference to the subject is made in the July 2017 Study Watchtower Article ‘Seeking Riches That Are True', where it says: "When God's Kingdom does come, rent and mortgages will cease, food will be free and plentiful, health-care costs will disappear. Jehovah's earthly family will enjoy the best that the earth has to offer. Gold, silver, and gems will be for adornment, not for investment or hoarding. High-quality materials of wood, stone, and metal will be freely available to build beautiful homes. Friends will assist us for sheer satisfaction, not for money. A new system of sharing earth's bounties will be a way of life.")

"You realize what you're saying, I hope. You're talking about a system where a person could go decades without needing... A system where money is an optional extra. Useful, but unnecessary to life."

"That shake you up, Eric? A world where money isn't the center of human civilization?"

"Well… yes, frankly." Eric admitted. "I can't picture a world where people can just… do what they want to do."

"A year ago, ‘do as you please' would have been the pursuit of diversions and pleasures and… whatever. But it wouldn't have been meaningful." Benedict countered. "The entire human race, right now, is made up of a group of people who survived by having a passion for a spiritual treasure. Something that they received no paycheck for, and dedicated their time to anyway. I think we have the perfect opportunity to sell this as a working model."

Considered silence.

"There's precedent." James said finally. "After the war, Germany's economy was so bad, the Government just wiped out all accounts and gave every citizen, rich and poor; a flat, equal amount. Starting over is more than doable."

"There's going to be a lot of questions if we try this." Benedict put in. "Put everything on paper. When we announce it, we'll have to have the local Elders ready to explain the details to their flocks; which means they'll have to understand it themselves first." He smiled, despite himself. "Another thing we'll have to cover at the Convention."

~~/*\~~

"No pressure, or anything." Rachel said sarcastically as she and Kevin headed back to their own workspace.

"He's right, though." Bagley offered. "We're not just sorting out economies or technology, we're defining human culture. All that stuff comes from how people work, how they travel, how they dress... The people who decide what we have to work with are all here."

Rachel suddenly started laughing like she'd lost her mind. Kevin glanced over at her, and she waved him off, trying to get herself under control. "It just struck me what we're doing. I still can't believe I'm part of it." She got herself under control. "Human culture is a melting pot, KB. Nobody defines it, it just happens."

"It always has before, but we've only got one religion now, one language, one government, no currency to speak of, no borders at all..."

"And then we won't." She reminded him. "We've got a cosy little utopia right now, if a little disorganized, but sooner or later we'll have to let the riffraff back in."

"If you mean the wider resurrection, you're right, but they won't be allowed to change anything."

"To disrupt anything. Change will come from the sheer variety of what's been done through human history." Rachel pointed out. "We come from a culture where people put bars on their windows, and women wear jeans. Plenty of people in history would have stoned me to death for what I'm wearing right now; and slept fine with their doors unlocked. And they'll be taught how things have changed, but... Every culture on the planet will want something to hold onto. Something familiar."

Bagley considered that and nodded. "I spent a semester abroad once. Culture shock nearly made me quit college, but McDonalds was the same, no matter what country I was in."

"Right. Something to hold onto." She nodded. "I wonder where the happy medium between Victorian Era Aristocrats and Ancient Roman Slaves even is, but..." She was silent as they walked for a moment. "You still lock your door at night?"

"Before coming here? I did." He admitted. "I spent some time in a dorm with half a dozen others, but when I got my own room... The prefabs come with a one-way lock. It's meant for privacy, but I always..." He shrugged. "Old habits."

"Old habits." She agreed.

By this time, they had made it back to their own workspace. It was originally a Hotel Suite. Most of the furniture was gone, and Rachel's team had plastered the walls with their designs.

Rachel came in, and was almost attacked by others in her team. "We got approval!" They all shouted, more or less at the same time. "Twenty five thousand units! We thought you were going to ask for a few hundred as a trial program!"

Rachel and Kevin both burst out laughing.

~~/*\~~

Alec was looking over his notepad as the congregation ate their evening meal. The early crops were starting to come in, and though the modern people weren't all that good at farming, the crops had been ridiculously good. They could tell the seeds they planted themselves were getting some ‘help'.

Mealtimes was also the time for announcements. A task that had been given to Alec. He was actually debating whether or not to stand and speak, when Roland sat down next to him. "There's a problem growing. A lot of the brothers weren't expecting to have so many people here with the benefit of the doubt. Some of our people are feeling raw about it."

"About what?"

"They feel shortchanged. They were stressing so much That Day, wondering if they were good enough, and suddenly they find that maybe it wasn't as hard to be in the club as they thought."

"Oh, you know that's not how it works."

"Of course not, but I'm saying that's where some people are at right now. We have to tell them something. Resentment isn't a good thing to be feeling today."

Alec considered that. "Is this what you're going to announce?"

"Oh, I don't have anything to say to them yet. But think on it a while." Roland told him, and stood up. The congregation saw him coming to the head of the table and settled, used to this routine now.

"Good news, everyone." Roland announced. "The mail came in this morning, and of all the things we're waiting to hear, we got one of the big ones: There is a convention being organized."

There was a sudden cheer. People cheered and applauded at the drop of a hat now, but this one had been anticipated for a while.

Roland held up the letter and started to read it out. "To our beloved Brothers and Sisters in Christ." Roland read the letter. "We warmly greet you, and share in the joy you are no doubt feeling, as the Thousand Year Reign of our Redeemer and King begins."

The introduction alone caused a spontaneous round of applause.

"After working so hard, and holding so tightly to the hope that we would see each other in Paradise, it's natural to expect many questions, even some trepidation at the things we do not yet know. Rest assured that the questions you are no doubt asking are being heard by us, and by our Heavenly Father. With that in mind, we are pleased to announce the first International Convention of the New World, which will be entitled: ‘Now On Earth'!"

Another roar. Roland waited for them to calm down, which took a while, and gave them some specifics. "The program will be broadcast to all congregations. The program will be recorded, and will cover more than just spiritual matters. Everyone has questions. This is where many of them will be answered."

Alec leaned over and spoke to Beckah quietly. "For those of us wondering when communications would be restored, we just got an answer."

There was another cheer, this one more anticipatory. Everyone had wondered what would happen next, how the next stage of thing would be organized. Everyone knew there was work being done, and it was finally getting started, at least for them.

Roland returned to the letter. "The Program will start at 10am, New York Time, on the first anniversary of The Great Day. We encourage all brothers to spend this time in celebration of the most momentous events in the history of earthly creation. We also encourage all brothers and sisters to share their answer to this question: ‘What Does Paradise Mean To Me?' We look forward to hearing the great global response to this question. Yours in Christ, the Combined Committees of the Global Conference."

~~/*\~~

"It's an interesting question, you know." Alec said to Roland an hour later. "I mean, you ask people that question before A-Day, they'd all give you the same general answers. Three or four variations. Health, peace, safety, eternal life, truth and sovereignty… But now that we're here…"

"The answer becomes a lot more varied, and a lot more personal." Roland agreed. "We gave instructions to provide written responses anonymously, if that's the preferred way. I imagine you'll get all sorts of responses."

Alec nodded. "I've been thinking about the other question. You think there's… I don't even know what to call it. Dissension in the ranks?"

"Not dissent. Expectations." Roland sighed. "Nobody really knew what Day One would look like, and now, some of the people who didn't get what they expected are starting to dislike the current routine."

"I've been thinking about the Early Christians, leaving Jerusalem." Alec said. "I was thinking about what happened after they left? And about the people who stayed behind. Years, it took; for the soldiers to come back and finish the job. But by leaving right away, they didn't get mugged. If they'd delayed an hour, they would have been noticed. If they delayed a week, they would have been forced to choose sides. If they delayed a month, they would have been caught in the fighting. A year, they would have starved."

"Yes." Roland nodded.

"Well, I was thinking about the Final Christians. By listening a little, they didn't get their heads screwed up about good and evil in the world. Listening a little more, they would have avoided the wild parties and escaped getting their drinks spiked, or drunk driving. Listening a lot; they avoided all sorts of things."

"So, some people are upset about the ones that didn't appear to listen very much, or at all, and are here." Roland nodded.

Alec nodded. "I can sympathize, but I'm… I don't know. I never had someone that I didn't want to see here. I know that not everyone was so lucky, but… I've never hated anyone."

"Remember, we haven't survived Judgement Day. We're living it right now. If people made it through, it's at least partially for the same reason we're here. Jah saw something in these people that made him wonder what they would be like without the pressure of the world, their health, money, opposition..."

"Roland, you can say that about everyone. Everyone could be a good person if they lived in Paradise."

"Well obviously not, or everyone would have made it through." Roland countered.

Alec didn't have an answer to that. "So, when you get the question, what are you telling people?"

"Remember the verse: ‘Oh, if only you would pay attention to my commandments'. Jah didn't end that with: ‘If only you would pay attention, so I won't have to smite you'. He wasn't looking for a reason, he was looking for hope. These people are subject to the same rules we are today. If they can't make the change, the only person they'll be hurting is themselves. If we can't make the change in ourselves to trust His judgement, then the only people we can hurt is us."

"There's a scary thought."

"One that's been on my mind lately." Roland said quietly. "I've been fielding a lot of questions from people who want to go back."

"Back." Alec said, unsure of what the word meant. "Back... where, exactly?"

"Not to the Old System, back to the city." Roland explained. "They've been dreaming of paradise, but... We've spent a year in quick build dorms. A lot of brothers are still in tents. Our clothes aren't wearing out, and the food is great; but they want to know when we're getting to 'the good part'."

Alec scoffed. "Angelic Chorus and Divine Protection don't measure up against a roommate who snores and having to wash in a pan, huh?"

"You laugh, but you're right." Roland commented. "History has lessons to learn, Alec."

~~/*\~~

"It's like he was expecting a golden calf to pop up any second." Alec recounted the conversation to Beckah over lunch.

"He's not wrong, Alec." Beckah commented. "And... if I'm honest, I'm feeling it too."

"I know you've had trouble in the past with Mara, but-"

"No, I mean the other thing. About the Old Days."

"What?" Alec was stunned.

"Not nostalgia. Fear." Beckah admitted, ducking her head a little.

"What could you possibly be afraid of?"

"Alec, look at the world." Beckah admitted softly. "Last year, the world was a dark and ruthless place. 'Sin' was... well, not acceptable, but unavoidable. Understandable. When I screwed up, made a mistake, I could tell myself that I would be forgiven."

"You still can."

"Can I?" She wavered, biting her lip. "The world belongs to God now. First time since Eden that's been true. A year ago, when I failed to live up to Godly Standards, I was able to tell myself that God would forgive me, and that there was still time to make it right."

"So what changed?"

"Have you ever read the Hebrew Scriptures? People who stepped out of line then got smote. On the spot. Leprosy, snakes, the ground opening up..." Beckah was now chewing her lip. "We rarely talked about it, but... We aren't perfect yet. Back in the old Days, we needed second chances all the time. But, wheelchair aside, I don't feel any more perfect than I did a year ago. A little more energy, a lot less stress. But I'm honestly wondering: If I speak without thinking, or worse, speak with the wrong thinking... Am I going to get a lightning bolt for my trouble?"

Alec studied her. "Is that what you think?"

"I don't know. But it's what I'm afraid of." Beckah admitted. "I read the Bible, and... The life stories. David, Solomon, Moses, Peter... They were the heroes for people like us and... They stayed faithful, until one day they didn't any more. Back there and back then, God stepped in directly. By our generation, he waited for The Big Day. But he doesn't have to be patient any more. If there's something or someone in the world that displeases him, even after years, even decades... My roommate was Rachel. I have a new one now, and she snores, talks too much... She's a nice lady, and a good sister, but she does get on my nerves. If I think that, am I going to..."

"Whoa, time out." Alec stopped her. "What are you thinking now that you weren't thinking in time of Tribulation? God didn't hold those thoughts against you, and His standards don't change. God wasn't patient with us because he had no choice. He was patient with us, because he's a patient and forgiving person. Right now, we have a lot of the same concerns as we did a year ago. Just with a lot fewer players involved."

"And a lot less wiggle room." Beckah countered. "Last year, whenever something happened that I couldn't stand, I wrote it off as being 'just the world'. When something happened that made things harder for me, I was able to get past it by telling myself that such things were temporary." She took his hands. "Alec, I can walk. I'm able to sleep without wondering if I'm going to have my door kicked in by a home invader or a soldier. I wake up without fearing food riots, and I don't have to worry about things like Credit Card Fraud, or dentists appointments... I'll never say that this world is wrong exactly, but even if it's not cold, I'm living in a tent. Even if they never fade or wear out, I haven't changed clothes in eight months. If I say that there's still something in the world that I'm not thrilled about..."

"The world isn't wrong, Beckah, it's unfinished." Alec reminded her. "It'll take a thousand years to get the world to where it's supposed to be; but a lot less to get us to where we always dreamed of being. And by the way, that includes you and me. It'll take a thousand years to become the sort of person you're meant to be, but less time to see a change. Discontented thoughts after a thousand years of improvements, global and personal, after a thousand years of perspective, watching people come back and compare what we've made under our King's Direction compared to what they had over the last six thousand years? When you start arguing against that plan, that's the point where you have a problem. Right now, give yourself some credit. You're part of a very exclusive club, Beckah."

"So are you." She offered.

"Yeah, but look at your legs."

Beckah flushed.

Alec went pale. "I meant... They work. I was talking about the chair, not... I mean, not that they aren't..." He sank his face into his hands. "Listen, when you think back on this conversation, can you edit out the part when I made a fool of myself and focus on the thirty seconds when it seemed like I knew what I was talking about?"

"I will." Beckah laughed. "Let's change the subject."

"I wish you would."

"How about this? You know what tomorrow is?" Beckah asked.

Alec chuckled. "As a matter of fact, I do. It's been discussed at the Elders meeting a few times."

"First time we haven't had a Memorial." Beckah commented lightly. "Feels strange; but I don't know why. It's not like we celebrated Christmas or anything…"

A young man came over, with a shovel over one shoulder. "Brother Ducard, am I interrupting?"

"Brandon. What do you need?"

Brandon gestured over at the food table. "We've been going through the stores, and harvesting the rest from the orchards… And now we have a situation. We don't know what to do with the garbage."

"Take it to the dump." Alec said, as though it was obvious. "We have vehicles that work, including trucks. We don't need a huge garbage truck for two congregations who only throw away food wrappers."

"Well, yeah." Brandon looked sheepish. "But I guess what we're wondering is: Do we still do that? I mean, we're supposed to be making a paradise, and a garbage dump isn't exactly paradisaic…"

"Neither is a septic tank, but we've been using one." Beckah pointed out dryly.

"Brandon, this has come up in the Elder's meetings too." Alec promised. "The short answer is that we use what we have available, until we can make something else available. There's a Brains Trust getting the roadmap together, and bonafide Angels sitting in on the Elder's meetings. Sooner or later we'll sort out a way to clean up the ridiculous amount of garbage in the world. Until that day comes, the waste and pollution of the human race has been cut by a factor of a thousand already. Beyond that, we're taking this a day at a time so far."

"Should we really be doing that? If we're living forever?"

Alec shrugged. "Is there something you want to do right away that we aren't doing? Because there's no reason not to go strike out on your own if you have a plan. When I was a Postman, I saw no shortage of people hitchhiking their way south. I gave some of them a ride. Most of them are trying to find family and friends. There was a couple who had a spot picked out where they wanted to build their own home and had spent years figuring out how to do it themselves. After planning it for twenty years, they didn't want to waste any time."

"There was a group that had a map of every museum in the country, wanted to see what artworks and sculptures had survived." Beckah put in. "I've heard people talking about a small group that headed off to release all the animals from whatever zoos were in the country..."

Alec nodded. "The world is open now. No borders, no checkpoints, no fees. The world is yours, Brandon. Where do you want to be?"

Brandon smiled a bit. "Well, I don't have anything planned, really… It's just… It feels too much like we're marking time. It's coming up on a year now that-"

And then Alec saw her, coming up from the plaza and forgot Brandon existed.

There weren't that many vehicles, even now, but hitchhiking was no longer a risk to anyone, and any vehicle carried more than just the driver. Apparently there was a newcomer. One that Alec knew. She looked more spry than he had ever seen her. She was looking around, nodding to everyone she recognized, but clearly looking for someone in particular. When she saw Alec, she dropped her pack and came running, one hand over her mouth. "Alec! Alec, you're here!"

Tears pouring down his face, Alec ran to meet her halfway. "Mom!"

Beckah stepped back a few feet, letting them have their reunion. Alec had told her that his mother had raised him a Witness, and had been stuck in a different country when the troubles had begun. With borders closed, and communications shut down, getting back home had taken her months. She hadn't even known for sure if her son had made it, and now, here they were, arms around each other tightly.

It was almost as good as a Resurrection.

There was the sound of a truck horn blowing, and everyone jumped. There hadn't been anything that big moving since A-Day. Even the Restoration work never went above a 4x4 for transport.

But this, moving in on them now, was a big, heavy moving truck. Too big to be a moving van, but it ran so quietly that nobody had noticed until they heard the horn blow. There were three such trucks rolling up to their little township. Beckah caught a glimpse of their cargo. They looked like solar cells, or cell towers...

Alec smiled at his mom, then at Beckah. "Things will start happening fast now."