Archipelago N.Y.: Flynn (3 page)

What remained of
Manhattan was a strange sight indeed… Only the tallest buildings were left
standing, with their last ten or twenty stories left sticking out of the water.
Everything else was submerged, lost a long time ago. The new calendar said they
were in the year 0055 now… and it stated the day of the Flood as Day One. Very
few people remembered how long ago that day really was… Nobody really talked
about the past, about the Big Wave… or the Flood Virus and the awful deaths that
came in its wake. It made no difference. Most people had chosen to forget…
Collective amnesia was a coping skill, a way to deal with the nightmare of what
had happened. People’s lives had changed forever, but life had to go on
somehow...What New York had lost under water was added on top of the surviving
buildings. Defying the laws of gravity, new structures rose up like giant
porous mushrooms from all rooftops, transforming the once familiar look of the
Manhattan skyline.

Flynn's raft was
gliding through Midtown, which had all but disappeared after the Flood. It had
become part of the new ocean, completely disconnecting the Upper Side from the
Lower. Nothing but the tops of a few buildings remained, dotting the water like
little islands. They now supported the crude vertical columns of the bridges
erected above them, and the cable-car system that operated between the two
sides of the Archipelago.

And right down the
middle of that stretch of water ran the Archipelago's life support system: the
Van Zandt Water Pipeline. Made out of thousands of floating barrels, it swayed
on the surface like a gargantuan snake, delivering fresh water from the Upper
to the Lower Side. And of course, no one could get near it… It was the third
most guarded structure in the city, right after the Van Zandt Building and the
Van Zandt Desalination Plant… But that didn’t stop people from trying to breach
its perimeter… Every now and then, Flynn would hear about yet another raid on
the Pipeline… Driven by desperation, people would try to sneak in at night,
punch holes in the pipes and fill up their containers with fresh water. Some
risked their lives for themselves and their families, others stole so they
could sell, or trade this most precious of commodities. Most were caught and
killed on the spot. Very few succeeded and got away.

Flynn glanced at
Tony, who had dozed off on the seat next to him, still clutching the new inhaler
bottle. A deep crease of worry appeared on Flynn's forehead as he watched his
friend sleep. Tony's breathing was shallow, but steady. He looked peaceful,
almost happy… the way he used to be … when his lungs were working just fine …
Mikey’s words were still ringing in Flynn’s ears, and they made his stomach
twist into a painful knot. Officer Foley had spoken of the List and the
Departure Ceremony that always followed! Flynn had not thought about this event
for almost a year, and now that day was creeping up on them again… The
Government would be gearing up to retire the Archipelago’s “dead weight”,
drawing up the annual List… Everyone knew that this list was made up of people
who were too old to contribute to the community, or too sick and beyond medical
help. Tony could be one of them! And then Flynn began to worry about his own
father. He wondered how old Alan Perry was… Could he be that old? Was Officer
Foley just making it up, or was his father really losing his eyesight… unable
to do his job anymore? Had someone on the Upper Side noticed and recorded this?
Flynn shook his head, forcing these dark thoughts away to the back of his mind.

The
Seeker
was now approaching the huge fishing nets lined along the lower end of the
Archipelago. These contraptions were based on an old Chinese design and looked
like the giant skeletons of prehistoric birds, dipping their long bones into
the water. Fashioned out of broken up electricity poles, traffic lights and
long rusty pipes, swathed in miles of netting, they had proven to be a very
reliable method of catching fish. It was the Asians who had completely taken
over the fishing industry on the Archipelago, their nets forming a big
semi-circle around the entire Lower Side. There were other fishermen, of
course, who went chasing the big fish, like tuna, swordfish, marlin and shark…
But they were specialty catchers, moving around alone on their rafts and boats,
not organized in large groups like the Asians. The same could be said of the
sealers and whalers. Catching big fish was unreliable, though. And very often,
these fishermen would return home empty handed, after having spent days and
sometimes weeks out on the water. The everyday fish trade belonged to the
Asians. No one remembered when and how it had happened, but they were the only
ones permitted to fish in large quantities and so close to the shores of the
Archipelago.

The nets were
being lifted out of the water now. Their supporting scaffolds were screeching
under the weight of the day's catch. Flynn saw the thrashing mass of fish that
was being dumped onto the large floating platforms. The place was buzzing with
activity. Water vessels of various shapes and sizes floated around the
platforms, waiting to be loaded. Hundreds of squawking seagulls blackened the
sky, circling above them all. Some were brave enough to dive down to the nets
in an attempt to steal a piece of herring or mackerel. Those birds were swiftly
speared by the assigned Seagull Catchers, always ready and waiting with their deadly
harpoons.

Suddenly, Flynn
pulled the steering rudder towards him and turned the raft in the direction of
the nets. Tony sat up in his seat, puzzled by the swift change in movement. “What
are you doing?” He rubbed his eyes and glanced around to get his bearings.

“How about some
fresh fish for dinner?” Flynn asked with a big grin on his face.

“You crazy, amigo?”
Tony was wide awake now. “The place is crawling with Security Guards…Especially
at this time of day.”

 “Hey, it's not
like we haven't done it before, right?”

Flynn positioned the
Seeker
directly behind one of the cargo boats leaving the dockside
wharves. The fish were being processed on the spot by the skilled Asian
fishermen. Skinned and deboned, the fillets were taken by boats, like the one
Flynn was now following. Their final destination: the Fish House on Lower
Manhattan’s former Meat District. The skin and bones were then ferried to other
processing facilities and made into clothes, shoes, glue and pigeon food. Nothing
was ever wasted on the Archipelago. Everything was recycled and used again and
again… And all that dirty work was carried out on the Lower Side, of course.

“Too risky, I
think!” Tony tried to reason with his friend. “We can always get some fish at
the Floating Market.”

“Yeah, like tails
and fins! All the good stuff is going straight to the Upper Side. You know
that.”

“Well ...”

“Do you want to
eat fish steak tonight, or not?” Flynn was getting angry. “’Cause I am!”

“Yes, but ...”

“Hold the rudder
for me,” said Flynn. “Stay right behind that boat and pedal. Don't get too
close. I won't be long.” Flynn rolled off the seat and quietly slipped into the
water. Briefly, he swam alongside the raft. Then, taking a deep breath, he dived
under it and disappeared from view.

Following Flynn’s
instructions, Tony started to pedal slowly. The sun was setting and the sky was
turning a dark shade of orange, making it harder for Tony to see in the dusky
light. He tried to keep his eyes focused on the boat in front, now heading toward
Broadway Canal. Several men, wearing large brimmed coolie hats, were busy working
around the barrels full of fish meat.

A lone Security Guard,
armed with a spear gun, stood at the back of the boat. To Tony’s dismay, the
man had a holstered handgun on his belt, too.

For a long moment
the guard stood still, then his head jerked, and he pointed his spear gun down
at something floating in the water. Tony strained his eyes and saw Flynn's head
bobbing up and down next to the boat. The guard's spear was pointing straight
at his friend. Tony froze in his seat, his heart pounding… Flynn was going to
get in trouble this time! Most guards were corrupt and easy to bribe… But every
now and then, there would be someone who would stick to the rules. Would this guard
arrest Flynn, or shoot him on the spot? With no way of knowing, Tony closed his
eyes, praying for his friend’s safety. He couldn't bear to watch Flynn being
speared through the head, dying for a piece of fish!

A long moment
passed before Tony opened his eyes again, expecting the worst… only to see the
guard now leaning over the side of the boat, his weapon shouldered. It appeared
as if he was talking to Flynn…Then the guard reached down and dipped his hand
in the water. It emerged seconds later, holding a large plastic bottle. The man
tucked it quickly under his uniform’s jacket. He then walked over to the
barrels and came back, handing something over to Flynn. The boy’s head
disappeared instantly under water.

Tony breathed a
sigh of relief and stopped pedaling. His fear was quickly turning into anger
now… They had lucked out again… No, Flynn had lucked out again! He was the one
always taking risks… but sooner or later, Flynn would run out of luck….  things
would go wrong, and then it would be too late... Tony shook his head, pushing
that awful thought away. He knew he wasn't really angry at Flynn. He was mad at
himself… Deep down, Tony wished he was more like Flynn… reckless and carefree...
not giving a damn about anything. But there was also a selfish streak to Flynn,
and that was beginning to bother Tony. Of course, he knew that most people on
the Archipelago were like that, too… Selfish!… At least the ones who survived
the best were. Tony, unfortunately, wasn’t one of them.

Just as the boat
ahead disappeared down Broadway Canal, Flynn emerged with a splash out of the
water. He pulled himself back on the raft, holding two grimy plastic bags. “Here!”
he said triumphantly, handing one to Tony. “Your mom’s going to be happy!”

The tempting smell
of fresh sea bass hit Tony's nose, but he was too upset with his friend to care.
“You crazy idiot!” he cried, glaring at Flynn. “I thought the guy was gonna take
your brains out!”

“Hah!” Flynn
rolled his eyes at those words. He then popped his ears to drain the water out
and sat next to Tony. “I know how to deal with these cone heads.”

Tony stared at his
friend¸ not sure whether to punch him or to give him a hug. “What did you tell
him, amigo?”

“Said it’s my
birthday today!” laughed Flynn and took the steering rudder from Tony.

“Is it?”

“Just kidding…I
gave him a gallon of spring water from my stash.”

Tony was shaking
his head again in disapproval.

“What? You think
it's too much?" Flynn cocked an eyebrow. “Told you there's plenty of the
stuff down where we went today…We'll scavv for more of that water tomorrow,
don't worry.”

“I ain’t coming
with you tomorrow!”

“C’mon, Tony!
Don’t be like that,” said Flynn, frowning. “I got you the inhalers. You’ll be
fine.”

Tony avoided his
gaze. “I'm not feeling well, Flynn!” he mumbled under his breath.

“OK, OK… I know…
Sorry!” Flynn patted Tony on the shoulder and said, “Tell you what…Rest for a
few days… then we'll go again.”

“I don't think so!
Go see Madison, amigo.”

“Enough!” Flynn
clenched his jaw and stared ahead. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

Tony shrugged and looked
away. It was getting dark. Dim lights started to flicker behind the windows of
the intricate web of shacks which protruded from the sides of the buildings
along Broadway Canal. His eyes wandered up and followed the outlines of the
makeshift homes, sticking out at odd angles, each overhanging the one below.
The Lower Side was a vertical shanty town. These shacks had engulfed and in
some places completely hidden the original facades of the buildings. They looked
like living creatures that had grown in all directions, their tentacles
gripping the walls. Most windows were just gaping holes. Some were covered with
plastic sheets for more privacy, or just a vain attempt to resemble glass.