The GOD Box (10 page)

All the stuff in their pockets would have to come out
if they changed, and he didn’t know their thoughts on privacy. But, did he really expect to never share what they had? Really it was more of a survival kit… and some small connection to their world. What, was he sentimental? No, just needy.

That was
better than sentimental at any rate.

The
jungle slowly faded out and they were no longer trekking over thick, wet, pillowy dirt and old leaves now part of the ground. The ground was rising and Gabe was beginning to wheeze. The land was stretching before them over a sunlit hill of bright wheat colored grass.  As thick as the air was here, breathing still didn’t come easy.

Gabe was trying to speed up. Jonathan was such a bastard. Gunna leave an old man in back by himself, huh?
If he had to use the gun again there was going to be trouble. Miek hollered back good-naturedly, “Catch up grandpa!”

Gabe didn’t know how to respond and didn’t want to be bothered.
What a juvenile, jeering comment.
He kept on keeping on and the ground leveled out eventually, but he didn’t feel it was any easier. The others were starting to disappear, though, which was something he didn’t like in the least. He could still see the top of Jonathan’s head and followed it the best he could. A few more minutes there was another dark-haired head that was getting closer. Gabe didn’t know what really happened that made Dane stop and wait. But there he was at the back of the line. He didn’t say anything, and didn’t look worse for the wear; not even frustrated.

Gabe wanted to grumble that he didn’t need pity,
but that was no way to make friends. They didn’t say anything to each other, but Dane walked behind him for several more miles when they finally took a break at a spring.

Miek looked at Gabe and jested, “What
’s wrong old man?”

Gabe glared at him then looked back at the ground.

No apology was made by anyone, though Miek looked slightly abashed and knew it was a stupid thing to say. Still, they just all went about their business to get water. How he missed modern conveniences. All of his water purifying tablets were gone (He’d brought a lot, but they weren’t planning on doing this five time.) This water was going to make him sick unless they boiled it, which he doubted they could or would do.

Thirty-minutes
later, Gabe had caught his breath and May finally took pity on him. “Gabe, can I help you somehow?” Almost bored, his eyes met hers. Thick mucus was cleared from his throat and spit to the ground before he said no, then continued to ignore them.
Well, May certainly isn’t the nurturing motherly type because she didn’t push the matter.

Jonathan was arguing with them about purifying the water
. He still apparently had some iodine left and wanted to pour some in all of their water. The others were thinking it was likely poison. His long explanation of the chemicals and processes involved were enough to convince them to drink the poison voluntarily, and sounded like such bogus to them they assumed it must be fabricated nonsense. Jonathan put a few drops in his canteen and while he waited for it to dissolve, tried to convince the others. None of the others wanted to let them use their bottles (which were actually carved out coconuts, but they called them bottles) so he could prove to them it wasn’t poison, and might actually help them. After an hour of this Jonathan was becoming enraged as the group started making it a funny joke, seeing as he was insisting for so long and not drinking water without it. They managed to be sarcastic with him for some time before they started even laughing or smirking at each other about it. Gabe was even starting to find it funny.

Finally realizing what their laughter was
, Jonathan was fuming and now trying to take the water from them by force which caused no small riot. They were running around and tossing the bottles to each other over his head. By the sound of a muffled yelp and a thud, Gabe assumed Jonathan was tackling someone, and then there was raucous laughter that was not supported by air, suggesting Jonathan had done nothing to truly hurt the child, and they were still evading him.

Gabe was very thirsty but didn’t care to try to argue and knew at some point they’d have to move on and drink the water, so he waited until the joke got old and then someone brought him water.
Little did they know it was more than just the exhaustion that was keeping him preoccupied and irritable. During the last few miles of grasses he was fearful and paranoid and trying not to let it bother him. It almost physically hurt to deny his panic and truly physically hurt to accept it. He was frustrated with himself and pitied that old man sitting on the ground. This kind of fear was the worst… irrational, almost, but not enough to escape.
Stupid.

D
ane called for order and the water was purified. Miek brought Gabe some of the now purified water. What a difference it made to Gabe and his countenance. He felt a lifting of spirits. Left with nothing else to your name, it was amazing what water could do. Though, he always took a second glance at it… thinking…

…

Death after the second time was painless, physically. But… it was suicide; a completely different kind of agony that never left him alone. He pinpoints that day as the day when he began to lose his mind. That day when he sat and stared for hours, swirling the water in a clay cup, willing himself to drink it. He sat alone, then, in an abandon house, trying to forget the dead bodies lying outside. The living people had moved on to the east for clean water. They didn’t realize that in a day the water would be safe. For now, he and Jonathan were the last living people in this city.

Gabe
looked at the water. If he waited long enough, the effects would wear off…

…

They picked up and started moving again, all of them intentionally surrounding him – equal in front and behind. That was pretty thoughtful, he supposed. Again, everyone was silent. How long was this walk going to take, and were they going to be quiet the whole time? It was almost more than Gabe could bear.
Just as he thought that, a distant female voice asked a question.

Dane’s voice responded. That was comforting. The voices were facing away from him and he couldn’t make out distinct words. He listened to the tone of their voices, though. By the sound of it, it
was the type conversation he’d long longed for. First, when she asked the question, her voice was curious, but slow. The response was well thought out… then given with experience, but openness for thoughts Dane had never had before. May came back at his comment a little quicker, suggesting that something he said really sparked her interest and perhaps a disagreement. His response was quick again, but considerate and then they both were quiet. Dane then asked a question and this continued back and forth.

They would never quite realize what a rare discussion that was. Not even rare… extinct; something Gabe had only heard of – philosophized about. Emotional, and yet, rational, they tapped into instinctive depths tha
t men had once studied for ages. This reminded Gabe about a group of people who tried to do this intentionally.

…

Before the war had come, a group rose up in America, with some counterparts in Europe. They threw their phones away, their computers… in essence they were battling for traditional communication. The idea was that they would be in a pop culture society, but would be encouraging better relationships by requiring people to contact them face to face. But it was hard. A flat world with connections everywhere meant that they had to give up many other relationships. It was like a religion, and some were dedicated to the cause but nearly went mad and some, the weaker sort, gave up after a week or two; after the zeal wore off. Everything they never saw or heard about life was not within their capability to cope with when they were left naked like that.

…

Gabe was preparing himself for what they might see this time around with flashbacks of each previous time; things that got better, and habits that slipped away.

Four
things had become Gabe’s criteria for a satisfactory society:

Are
opportunities equal among every race and gender? Was there any persecution or separation?

I
s there intentional and fair economic interaction?

I
s there a community participating in raising children into the workforce? (He was less concerned with formal education, because it would (1) come with the industrial growth, or (2) be rendered inert because of a successful informal education.)

Lastly, w
hat did they worship? (This last question is a curious one because it isn’t measurable like it should have been, but there was value in it.)

Those four things suggested a level enough playing field. Who kn
ew what would happen after all of those questions were answered acceptably. And then, should Jonathan and Gabe remain there to monitor that it kept up? Human nature was bound to mess up an imperfect system. But, if the system was perfect, could they, or would they want to mess it up? Would time erode the simplicity of the organization to fulfill the desire to search, to progress? Of course it would. It would have to change. As much as government liked to think that micromanaging was their job, it wasn’t, and Gabe had no desire to represent any type of government. Gabe wondered if he was truly willing to accept that eventual failure; that someone somewhere would step out of bounds.

…

The first time, naturally, they thought (or hoped) they would fix everything with the ‘proper’ government. One war; their first (of many), had begun over that issue. Luckily, so soon in the civilization (soon meaning the second week), they didn’t have any weapons. Unintelligent fighting with rocks and fists didn’t kill as many as it wearied. Despite the complaints of a few, they took a vote and ended up with a slightly altered version of democracy.
Go figure.

Second time, there were q
uite a bit fewer of them and so they banded together at the start. The group consisted of the less ambitious adults and their children; the ones who survived by being agreeable but still active. They attempted more of a communal beginning while they were small, having first daily, then weekly meetings as a full group. Once homes were started and irrigation planned, there began to be problems – mine-yours-ours issues. Some sort of judicial system was required. Within a few months it spiraled out of control – lines drawn literally and figuratively.

Third time was rough.
Per the previous system of dividing land and work, an oligarchy of sorts was formed. They became intensely stratified and stopped helping the idler of the groups, seeing them as a lower class, certain crops then failed because they didn’t have the help they needed. It became more intentional to have children to grant them the support they needed in the fields, which also became a sign of the stratification. The Fourth time Gabe and Jonathan were cloned and called upon, it was to assist in a war. They had become a notorious legend after they died without starting over; sought after for power. It made it easy to restart because there was already chaos. However, because they had lived longer as a society there were many more people. Several cities had been formed, so it became a matter of deception, and of being double agents.

Gah!
Distracting himself from reliving all of his deaths, which he was bound to do in these reminiscent moments, he turned back to Dane and May’s conversation. Dane had turned around and was walking backwards. Gabe tried to hurry up to catch a few points in their discussion, but it was short lived…

“So…” Jonathan began loudly making it clear he wanted to say something “important”.

He had the bad habit of talking too much whe
n he was bored. Gabe wished he would just shut up. Who was Gabe kidding? Jonathan has no self-control for that kind of thing.
So he started talking… Gabe was irritated because he was almost enjoying the conversation in front of him.

Jonathan continued, “You wanted to know about us and why we did this, let’s see if
I can paint a picture for you.”

They already have
a picture, Jonathan, and it looks like freaking Picasso.

Gabe prayed he would be smarter than to start at
the very beginning; that brought up too many questions. Even in the chapter of the book he skimmed they were questioning their origins, which did make him nervous but luckily it was so early and even in the book was such an offhand comment that they might be able to ultimately fabricate something in place, or make it unimportant. “Once upon a time there were hundreds of countries all over the world. Each country had their own governments – some of which took hundreds of years to formulate. Though, they were never really formulated, everyone was always trying to fix it.”

“That sounds similar to something… but can’t put my finger on it.” Miek smirked.

Jonathan continued as if he hadn’t heard, because didn’t care, “Democracy, Monarchy, Oligarchy, Dictatorships… economic ideas by our lifetime were only mixed economies and command economies.”

“Question!” Miek clapped his hands together
enthusiastically and waited for permission.

“Yes?” Jonathan asked, terse that his monologue was interrupted again.

“What do any and all of those words mean? Besides democracy, I mean. We have a democracy.”