Little Things

Everybody will know the big changes years from now, but there are a lot of smaller details the museums aren't covering. Everyday occurrences, that are so often lost - you can name the presidents of the US, but not what they usually ate for breakfast - right?

Cats were everywhere after the event. Independent ones that escaped, or hand raised little kittens. It was really kind of symbolic of protecting and feeling like you made a difference in something's life. People would rescue cats, or try to avoid ever giving them up during the event. And of course, their services as pest exterminators was needed more than ever.

There was a lot less sweetness in cooking. Who is going to be growing sugar after all, or importing it from an island? Most people would choose sugar cane over potatoes, but we all know which would get planted anyway. And of course, no one was distributing soda, or packaging donuts - or even the ingredients to make them.

Lights after dark became hard to come-by. At the most harmless, they attracted bugs, but raiders or reanimates could see burning lanterns as well. No electricity meant alternate light sources were often fire hazards, and in ramshackle accommodations, a fire could get out of control quickly.

Guitar strings rust, pianos can't be moved, music players need batteries, and playing cards quickly get bent or dirty. A lot of common games and music just wasn't so practical.

You would be surprised how hard it was to find a working pen after a while. No one thought to grab dozens of them while running from reanimates, and they run dry, freeze, or crack. Pencils fared a little better, but more writing ended up on personal devices than parer after a while.

10 Things about the Anarchy Zone

1. Pure Lands
• Nature has been quick to recover from the absence of humanity. Rivers already look cleaner without discharges, the air lacks haze, and the nights are quiet but full of stars that were normally outshone by electric lights. Many houses are already infiltrated by vines or small plants, weeds and bushes are turning suburbs into tangled jungle already. Animal territories are expanding across the highways.
2. Corrupt Lands
• While no one has found a reactor that exploded like Chernobyl yet, many other industrial plants have suffered mechanical failures,  leaking pesticides, industrial solutions, and tailings into the environment.
3. Hamlets and Villages
•  In many places, groups of twenty to a hundred people have settled - often starting as one or two families and inviting in a few others. In some places, small communities have reclaimed all or part of suburbs and continue to live in subdivisions of pre-Event towns. The limits of subsistence agriculture limit most of those not used to the work to smaller settlements. Going beyond this stage or finding a patron to assist are major goals of many outside the known city-states.
4. Unexpected Loot vs Needed Items
• What  people remembered to take with them, and what they did not can often lead to interesting finds. Hundreds of cameras, watches, tons of silverware and jewelery are all out for the taking, but flashlights and pocket knives are amazingly rare.
5. 10,000 Guns, Zero Bullets
• More problematic than what has been lost is what is still being used. While many places have taken to hand-loading when they have the materials, the average person can't make nitrocellulose or mine lead. 
6. Pockets of Tech
• How the EMP bounced through the ionosphere was somewhat random, as was the status of many items - whether they were off, on, in a car, or out on a table, plugged in or on battery - all factored into its survival. While most of the subsystems that ran modern society did shut down, or at least popped their breakers temporarily, large areas with working technology still exist.
7. 1880's All Over Again
• Communication and delivery are a booming business in the zone. So too is setting up canals or clearing routes between villages. Judges and lawyers ride circuits from town to town, town hall meetings are as much about being social as simple votes. Gas-lamps and kerosene have returned in force. Nothing so fanciful as steampunk, but in many ways it is like the industrial revolution.
8. Press Gangs and Patrols
• One of the larger threats in the zone is City-State forces. They are always looking for experienced guides, couriers, or soldiers. Good mechanics and knowledgeable farmers are also in high demand. At best they accept volunteers temporarily. But all too often they will take people away by force as necessary to serve.
9. Predator Explosion
• With the end of human extermination campaigns both planned and incidental, the population of vermin and seasonally hunted animals exploded. It takes a few years for the population of predators to catch up, and it often overshoots the mark. Although few are man-eaters or desperate yet, the chance of encountering wolves, bears, coyotes, lions and other creatures is quite high.
10. New Creatures
• The most Northern dwelling primate is of course, Human beings, but the second is the Japanese Snow Macaque monkey. You might not find alligators in Chicago, nor polar bears in the deep South, but creatures from another continent can be found here and there, in some exotic places there are even breeding populations. Although rumors abound, the Citizens haven't begun cloning any of their larger fauna, so for the time being, it is only terrestrial creatures of note.

10 Things about Las Vegas

1. Military HQ
• There are other places where a company to battalion sized group of soldiers can be found, but rarely do they have much - if any - equipment intact. At least some of them seek to rejoin at Vegas. It is a tough journey, and their units are often separated and reintegrated with others, making for a heartbreaking end. 
2. No More Area 51
• Although rumors persist of prototype weapons, secret caches of aircraft, or factories ready to pump out new rifles - no wasteland scav nor the government is going to find them. For now the US has the biggest and most impressive arsenal, but much of it can only be maintained through diligent labor, warehousing until absolutely necessary, or rampant cannibalization. Equipment recovery will often come before personnel, since they can recruit and train new soldiers easily.
3. The Gun Club
• This is the rumored cabal in charge of reintegrating settlements into the old United States. Publicly, they are known to offer the olive branch, funding, support, and arms to those who pay tithes to Vegas. Towns that refuse to cooperate tend to see food shortages, coups, raider attacks, plagues, and otherwise disappear...
4. Civ Gov and Mil Gov
• The military holds a lot of power in the day to day operations of the city, and some degree of veto power over who can enter or leave the city. (Usually in the form of no un-escorted people can leave, and we can't spare soldiers for such duty). However, the generals only make up a portion of the ruling council, which also includes presidential cabinet members, hospital staff, the city's mayor, and heads of the utility maintenance gangs. 
5. Experiment Rumors
• Vegas maintains the best health care and immunization rates of anywhere in the former US. However, the constant medical monitoring and monthly injections have made some people nervous. Tales of type five experimental reanimates, mind control, intentional sterilization and aphrodisiacs to control the next generation - few things are too wild to be dismissed out of hand.
6. Outside Allies
• Washington DC is mostly a burnt symbol, and many military centers were hit by orbital bombardment. However, the Planetary Citizens generally chose to hit transportation arteries to tie up supplies and divert attention from war fighting to relief efforts. Many capitals and government facilities remain intact, and at least nominally assisting the effort. Elements of the Canadian and Mexican governments also help where they can.
7. The Lights are Still On
• Food supplies can be rough at times, water usage limits constantly imposed, and curfews a way of life. Yet schools, buses, trains, casinos, and shops still run to some extent. Vegas continues to be very metropolitan, while the outlying areas usually exist in a state akin to the early 1940s during the wartime rationing. 
8. Wasteland Patrol
• Far more than any other city state, Las Vegas projects beyond its borders, and makes honest attempts at restoring the nation. A primitive postal service, new cellular towers, and traveling circuit judges are available to those who are willing to accept an agreement with the government. They are often rebuffed as relics, outsiders, or power hungry. 
9. President Grey is on Borrowed Time
• Legally, Grey is past the end of his second term as president, and while martial law is in effect, he is not a dictator and would like honest elections held soon. 
10. Old Habits Die Hard
• Even as the old US lies in ruins, there are still some within the government that longer term plans of how to stop others from rebuilding, and extend their dominion beyond the old national borders. 

Japan Tourist (Part One)

Japan just sounded like a neat place to visit. For all the energy shortages, social security problems, and rising sea levels there was still something to experience. Somehow it maintained or recreated that image from the late nineties - half samurai mysticism, half neon insanity. It seemed like a parody, like they were trying too hard to hold on to the days when economists talked of the coming war between the great economic powers. (No really, I've got a book "The Coming War With Japan"). You kind of just had to go and see what was real.

Well, I finally managed to find a tour group and uploaded translation software into a brand new set of headphones. It was going well - that perfect mid part of a trip when you're over jet lag, but still have some fresh clothes, and have not yet experienced stomach problems from the big shift in diet and eating street foods.

That is when The Event hit.

Everything in your life suddenly shutting down and states of national emergency are bad enough. When you don't know the language, your computer is wiped clean, outside communication is shut down, and all your currency records are wiped out?

I woke up in a hospital. Apparently it was just a panic attack, but bad enough I couldn't breath and passed out anyway. It didn't go full on movie cliche, fortunately. There was plenty of staff, they took excellent care, and even put me in contact with a girl who spoke fluent English. She's an otaku, but for Dungeons and Dragons of all things. Simply could not ask for a more perfect match.

Reanimates didn't show up immediately in the wake of the Citizens arrival, but things were in rationing and emergency mode pretty quickly. Probably comes from living with tsunamis, and the limited resources of the island. I imagine Israel got through it all pretty well too - albeit for less natural reasons.

I also imagine that the USA fared decently well due to the high per-capita gun ownership when reanimates really did show up. In a place where most of the police don't have firearms - it was hammers, kitchen knives, and table legs - the JSDF at one point was dropping loads of baseball bats and golf clubs onto rooftops to give people they couldn't get too a fighting chance!

The nation changed from the "land of the rising sun", to the "land of only sun". Reanimates have better night vision than humans, even if they can't see as well overall. Everything just shuts down and locks up a bit before sundown. I've been through orthodox Jewish neighborhoods on Friday night, and it still isn't as quiet as this. I swear the fog horn that sounds the all clear each morning is actually the nation's collected farts because they're that unwilling to make noise in the darkness.

Hatching a Game in a NEST

A massive hive like structure that can contain and entertain a human for their entire lifespan. Whether its one massive skyscraper, or multiple thirty-story blocks connected by a web of sky-ways, its a construct larger than most towns. It would seem daunting to map all the passageways, to plan out a settlement for thousands of people, and describe a building unlike anything the players have seen.

Yet a NEST - or other arcology megastructure - is probably one of the better places for introducing new players to the world of Dead and Back's Anarchy Zone. Behind the gigantic walls are very familiar settings. Being largely self-contained and decently populated means there are plenty of alliances and conflicts waiting, aside from simply shooting reanimates. People from all walks of life survive inside the halls, so players are free to make characters outside the basic survivalist mold, and can easily replace them as necessary.

While the scale might be huge on the outside, within the NEST is very familiar territory. Medium to small apartments (many of them single room studios), fast food restaurants, school rooms, theaters - it is like any other city, just without sky. Although many places may be dark or dingy after five years of neglect, most of the interior has not fallen to ruin like exposed structures. Interior green spaces look like a mall's atrium or city botanical gardens, just with roof heights of between three and five stories.

A small city is too large for direct democracy, there will be bureaucracy and competition. Should the doors be opened to other survivors, or must some of the current population be expelled due to over crowding? How should the former property of others be divided among the survivors? Leaders will change, either through clever elections or more violent means, and the players can be their to exert influence, either for their bosses, or to gain some power themselves.

Many new stories are possible because many people survived thanks to the buildings inherent disaster isolation elements. Outside, much of the world belongs to raiders, ex-military, survivalists, and the savvy - though the simply lucky make for a good percentage as well. Few people would think of playing "Conan the Barber", cutting hair across the wasteland. But a stylist that maintains their business within a NEST, and over hears the discussions of the powerful because of it, could end up in some political intrigue. A teacher would struggle not for them-self alone, but with the question of what to teach in the new world, and how to keep a classroom as a safe and inspiring place when outside there is so much danger.

NEST VIII

Before The Event, Nest VIII was like a Florida retirement community. Pleasant climate, stores, meeting people in open spaces to talk, sports clubs, shuffling about, and at night each retreated to a little box containing little more than a bed, closet, and old TV set. After The Event, it still had that Florida vibe. Now it was the swamps, however. Warm, dark, stagnant. No alligators, but plenty of other predators.

Advertisement spoke of a strangely retro city of tomorrow. Neatly manicured with each person in their place, easy commutes and modern conveniences. Reality was a bit more like a cross between a shopping mall and a prison. Turn out from bed, eat in a cafeteria, walk to work, relax in common area, back to little cell for the night. No parole. The apartment you reserved was generally the one you kept no matter the changes. Overbooked even before construction finished, space to move was lacking.

Not even the dead rising could lessen the crowding. Many apartments now were unowned, but not necessarily unoccupied. If anything, space constraints became tighter with refugees from locked off floors.

Most of the systems that kept the spaces habitable for so many shut down in short order. The great condensers that maintained temperature, the gargantuan banks of lights, and the grand Moloch incinerators that purified organic waste - all silent now.

Residents can't even walk about the floors normally. The once neat layout is in shambles from the haphazard pattern of closed passages. It is a maze of halls and shuttered security doors that separate the dark warrens from the overrun apartment blocks. No one is quite sure how the reanimates remain alive, much less occasionally active even after five years of being locked away. The living inhabitants have set up aquaculture in the fountains and farms in the atrium, but what have the many neighbors been up to?

Freighter Captain

I was at sea when the aliens arrived. Scary as S--. Reanimates, you can do something, hide at least, or shoot them. But all the bombs mankind has ever made don't mean a thing to the Atlantic. All the satellites go down when you're in the Northern waters? Its like war - if you've never been - no mere words quite do it justice.

You might have guessed that I wasn't one of the many that died on the waves. Sure there are aliens wandering about, but lets be reasonable here!

Reanimates don't swim too well, least not to my knowledge. If you're a few miles from shore its pretty safe. Catch is, you do need to eat. Not many places you can call a real port of call. Who operates the cranes and tugs - provided the machines haven't fallen to rust and ruin? Ports tended to attract large populations of business, factories, workers, immigrants - and wherever there were lots of people, now there are lots of reanimates. 

You can send out a jetty, or wait for people to come out to the ship themselves. Neither is a good option - one puts a small number of your people at the mercy of others far from help, and the other allows strangers on your ship. Too small boats meeting sometimes works, buts its hard to transfer much cargo of any type when you have two pitching dhingys. 

There are basically four types of captains these days. 

If you ran an old burner - coal, CNG, oil - your tanks are dry or spoiled, and few places have a few hundred tons of fuel to sell. So in that case, you're just an off-shore island, offering sanctuary or ahem, "social services" (People still got that itch you know, and we are going to have to rebuild the population some how...)

Next we have the two types of Windjammers, both of which are better off. To some extent, at least they can still move. A few brave ones still face the oceans and trade winds, taking month long journeys to keep the world connected. The balance though, just flit up and down the coasts carrying local goods and passengers. Its lucrative, but you meet a lot more people, and some of them just don't have your best interests in mind.

Finally, we have the nuclear cruisers. You can ply the sea-lanes or power an entire city off their atomic piles. A lot less risk when you can make a voyage in weeks rather than months - when whole towns can disappear in a bad winter, being gone for three months means you might never see it again. Port facilities are even harder to find, and finding enough cargo, or the right kind, to by a few hundred kilos of uranium... 

Sometimes my job seems about as bad as a paper dog chasing an asbestos cat through hell. But I'm not at war, and I'm not wondering who is the rightful government - the old law of the land, or the current holders of the territory. I know its just me, god, and the deep blue sea. 

Life on the Normandy Coast

Its not a bad life here, I'd dare say it might be pretty good. But it is a small life, a boring life and that - and that- and umm...hmmph.

Well, what is your measurement? Each generation tries a little better, and hopes a little greater for those that follow. From let none of our children get eaten or die horribly to own a little plot, to a big one, to be be educated, to not be hungry... there are still some beaches south of here where you see the remains of when we fought for higher ideals. We were at a time, even with all the ecological problems, when most of those were solved, at least here in Europe. Might even be able to say that with the world and Sphere at your fingertips, the struggle was against boredom and callousness.

The world has gotten both smaller and larger after The Event. You live more local, and everything else has moved farther away. For all the pride in French cuisine, sometimes tamales or a gyro sandwich just seems like a nice change of pace. Can't get those spices anymore. Five years ago we had satellites in orbit everywhere, now we have to worry about scurvy during the winter months, since vitamin C rich foods can't be imported easily.

In theory there is still trade with other towns. In theory. Two catches though. First of all, you need to have something worth trading - small villages don't have much, and cites usually don't have the resources to produce. Secondly, the way is broken up and unsafe - so you either hire free companies - which can be very expensive - or you make the run yourself, which is pretty dangerous.

We're pretty lucky actually - rich for the modern age. Fishing in the English channel, farms, sheep a lot of places are worse off. Most of us around here won't even say the capitals name, and cross ourselves if its even whispered - the stories of slaughter by the reanimates... The city of lights has survived a lot, but no true Frenchman would desecrate that grave for a long time to come.

Joy Ride

The Eekaide sang as it powered up, a strange chorus of warnings and status outputs, but humans would call it music if only their ears could hear the high-pitched tones. This particular piece of music was extra special to Shipwright G#G#BCb-8 x'k-LA Ozensosk - known to most humans as "Sing Sing". 

Most of the time, she was afraid. Afraid of other citizens who held vendettas against her family, afraid of citizens with dreams of power and conquest now that they were on a new world, and afraid of the humans that fought back. Mr. Hobbes and Senior Diego were nice enough, but they were giant humans and many of the questions they asked for their radio show couldn't be answered by one like her. In the scheme of things, Sing Sing was just a barely qualified mechanic and laborer only recently old enough to vote.

A single encounter unit wasn't much in the face of a hostile planet and centuries of blood debts either. But it was enough for her. It took a very humorless person to be unsatisfied by a machine that amplified your height six times, your strength several dozen, and allowed almost an order of magnitude more speed. Never mind the projector that could kill targets through armor and the shoulder mounted missile tubes. This was as much power and authority anyone of her status could hope for.

With a final flourish of beeps, the robot's overture ended, and it was ready to go. Sing Sing flexed her upper arms, while the lower left toggled the cameras so she could watch the suits actuators move with her limbs. There was always a delay in reaction, and seeing it for yourself was better than trusting abstract numbers on the readout. Satisfied, she toggled the throttle with the lower right arm, and stomped the steering pedals for a quick side-step. With only a moment's hesitation, the huge machine moved.

Slowly laying on the power, the suit's pace quickened. the insulated cabin reduced the footfalls to merely felt thumps - but it was still loud within. Squeaking hydraulics and the whine of the gyros that kept the machine upright despite missing two legs (at least from a quadruped citizen's point of view), chimes from a dozen different readouts and a crackling radio. It was cluttered, confined, and noisy - an little clearance for antennas mad it uncomfortable as well.

Sing Sing did't care. She was bounding across the terrain at twice her fastest running speed, and stepping over obstacles that would come up to her neck under normal circumstances. For the time being, she was free.

(In case you don't know musical notation, her name is G-sharp, G-sharp, B, C-flat as a "signature whistle"

Drawl on about City States

Gef out of here! Go! Raus! Skedaddle.

Dose hateful dings! Whaf daf man was sayin abouf New Birmingham - Lord have mercy. And de old Govment, I spit whenever I hear dat so called presiden's name.

Mind you, even the devil tells the truf if it suis his own purposes. It be true that all dem NES' folks are a bunch of tieves, don build nofing new adall - jus stell from de dead of all de old cities. And dose army troopers, dey goo de best guns and ello coppers, well skooled - you ain't hear no arguin fro me, dey good. But dey be servn evil people, and we migh no beat 'em in dis life, but de nex don look too good for dem.

'Corse what I hear is dat most de army now be deserters or criminals, given guns and an a license to loof - em and em domain you know.

Now if you wan a good lif, you do never speak of dat Desla Place, now arround her you don. If one ding for a man in powah like the presidn to be empted to sin. Bu dis is a whole cidy up an ouf de-fyien god, dinken deir computers and sy-bear-nef-iks can save 'em de way Jesus can! All sors of sinners line up a de gates, an dey be dold to serve de Desla massers and give up dere children for entry! Be glad dey so far away in de Rocky Monts.

Naw if you lookn for good people closer doo home, you gof Lone Star, alon de Dexas side of de gulf. Dey gof a nuclear powah plan an a half completed arcology, and be good friends wif da men on da naval bass and. I don dink dey in leauge wif de old govermen, but dey don ave much fuel neither, so it be hard to knwo when do go an fight. Dere be a lota aliens around der, like big shrimps wif laser guns! Aliens still gof an army, wi big demon robot and ello coppers dat look like fire breathn catfish. Pray for dem Lone Star folks - won you?

Now some say dat de aliens fight each another, or pay off humans to do it for dem. California be de nastiest bunch of dem around, while udders mig be willn to sit an jaw a while. You imagine dat - talkin to a shrimp? Nah, I jus stay here, nice an safe. Righ Dought folks might be over eager, but Sheppard's Hand is good people. So wa if he calls 'em police and nof an army? We be in a civilized town dat needs police and pastors, not troopahs and dictators. We's got Sunday picnics every week when most in the wasteland would fight each udder for a can o beans. Der be sho-shops and soda pop, dentists and mechanics all about us here, like a good little down - almost as if De Event never happened, alright.

Ah say again, dis be a good place, a righteous place, and fine in de eyes of de Lord. Some covet technology too much, or govermen powah, or try to keep ol ruins alive with bits o de dead. Here we care about people, all the childrens get school, all da wives keep dere homes. Dere be weeds in out gahden, but it bears might fine fruit, while all de udders be twisted or barren. To be po' here is better dan to be rich out der.

(My apologies to anyone who actually is in the Deep South, I'm trying to change up my writing, not mock you.)

Working for the Man (Part One)

"Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them". - (Quote Act II, Scene V). Twelfth Night, Shakespeare

I guess that is of some comfort. Most people, whether they be in a massive city-state or a tiny commune don't go out hunting reanimates and dodging citizens. There are cock-ups to be sure, but generally action only comes around if you ask for it. In turn, that means signing up for a citizen militia or similar organisation. City defense forces are as varied as the places they represent, I'll run you through a few.

Thieves and cowards with more self-preservation than respect for authority are the Bread and butter of the NEST RAT sandwich. It is strictly bring your own equipment and volunteer work, though some get "volunteered" to repay debts, if you catch my meaning. Rapid Access Technicians put resource recovery far above search and destroy and avoid direct combat when possible. Indirect combat via ambush and booby traps is a hobby for some of them, but the real defense of the arcology towers rests on the remnants of the national guard units stationed within.

New Birmingham's Citizen Militia is more of a police force than an army, and Right Though an ecclesiastical SWAT team. They all work together and have guns - but there is a big difference between breaking up a domestic disturbance and busting up a bunker. I wouldn't want to rob a bank down South - a conscript army is still an army you know - but most are chant bible verse first, shoot second. Heck, their ghouls are better trained than most of the Sheppard's Hand. You hear that right. Take everything you hate about Reanimates and most of what you dislike about being shot at, and you get the holy roller's secret weapon. Only come out for big trouble and only outside the city gates, but what defines "big" or "trouble" is kind of malleable.

If you truly want to be among the military, and the best it has to offer at that, you're looking for Crossbow - the US Government Special Forces Team. They're the ones who make sure that no one messes with old depots or missile silos while the government has its back turned. 'Course, if you're not already a navy SEAL who hiked out to Area 51 with nothing but a K-bar, chances are you won't make the grade. Rumor has it these guys have military cybernetics or other black project gear to aid them. The same has been said about Tesla's "Out Reach" force - but really, who is more likely to have that stuff - army commandos or trans-human geek nut-jobs?

Ten Years Before - ICATs Intro

I'm sure you've read a cyberpunk novel before - about how the rich hoard the power and information technology while the poor live off dog food? Where there always seems to be a bold group of heavily armed thugs to fight for the highest bidder, or once in a blue moon - stand up for the little guy?

2045 avoided being like that. Barely.

The signature contracted personnel of the Pre-Event days did carry arms - but it was more because people were out to get them, than for the need to fulfill assassination contracts. ICATs were less "street samurai" and more prohibition era revenuers or Pinkerton Detectives. Independently Contracted Assessment Technician. Sounds like someone to audit taxes or inspect a home for roaches right? Heck, chances are they probably did both of those things. On a really, really, big scale.

I think the idea was more or less established by 2035 - possibly earlier. The wasn't really a single day that the world went down the tubes, more of a series of trends. Deforestation meant new tropical diseases spread faster, crop seasons got all the more unpredictable due to global warming, a disrupted gulf stream meant Europe cooled a good bit despite the desertification of other areas, some big earthquakes and small wars got people migrating... We needed to rethink and redo how people were fed, where they would live, and how to keep them healthy like never before. Comparable to the 70's green revolution, 60's's vaccination programs, 50's atomic power, and post war housing projects, all at once - at least according to some of the more vocal talking heads on the news. Not everywhere was so bad, but where it was, it tended to be terrible.

Good news - nano vaccine and super projects like the NEST arcology buildings really did help. Bad news - they were really, really expensive. With that much money being thrown around, the opportunities for graft, extortion, human trafficking, illicit knock-offs and other ills were simply staggering. No one government could truly focus on it, nor have total trust in its agents, or cut through international red tape.

ICATs were bounty hunters, inspectors, accountants, and spies. They were also incredibly well paid and compensated to lessen the incentive to work for the other side. Some of the top level ones even got a percentage of what they were helping - a decimal point, five zeros and a one - but when your looking at a national GDP scale budget, that is a pretty penny. The danger often matched the reward though. Doctors  sent into Ebola outbreak zones to make sure no one was selling fake cures or trying to weapon the disease would be an example of a safe assignment! For accountants, the death toll was staggering.

Don't get me wrong, there were other people on the fringes, and there were major projects achieved with minimal amounts of law breaking. Possibly even the majority of them. But if you wanted a life like a movie character, signing up to be a government bonded electrician for refugee camps would give you more excitement than the bomb squad.

Tesla External Games (Draft)

Tesla is supposed to be the city on the hill, social experiment of total freedom, open up the human race - yes? Yet all we see from outside is preformed concrete walls and guard towers like a prison, and that damned lightning spewing disco ball in the center. They demand tribute for entrance, and focus on their Dr. Moreau Experiments rather than the real human beings outside. Some bright future it is surrounded by shanty-towns.

People come to the "Free City" because they think its safe - few reanimates, some remaining government forces, and over the mountains from Citizen territory. Damned irony is, its not the city that makes it safe, but all the hopefuls. So many of us are around we can have proper patrols, and work gangs fulfilling jobs from sanitation to fortification. A functional city outside the city. It tough to feed that many, and there is no proper sewage yet - but from barbers to X-ray technicians, we have everything else.

Sometimes we think about storming the walls. If they were just people, I'd give us better than a fifty-percent chance of doing it. But we aren't sure if its just people at all. They have military drones by the swarm, and a bunch of other advanced military equipment the actual solders had left behind as too maintenance intensive. Even the citizens know better than taking on tanks! And the... inhuman stuff spoken of in whispers. Some say its cyborg super-solders, some say genetic modification. I even heard that they can reprogram the berserk nano-vac in reanimates - that's why they're so rare around here despite all the people.

Maybe its worse than that. They do trade some food and medicine to outsiders. What if there is controllable vaccine in those things? God, they could turn us against each other with a flip of a switch! I was wary of the damned stuff when it came out and the government had a hand in it - now now its a bunch of crazy techno-wizards with no government supervision and I know it turns people into monsters.

Others are a bit more trusting. They point out the city does trade, provide some health services, and does equip at least some outsiders as a de facto police force, and keeps drones aloft to assist people during resource gathering missions. Might be sincere, might be playing us against each other.

Not much to do about it in the short term I guess. Though I have to wonder why they want so much useless junk. Titanium aircraft components for instance - steel you can reforge easily enough, sections of wing not so much. Industrial wastes, chemicals, coal - they want toxic stuff other city-states would pay you to get rid of. That makes things a lot more dangerous than trading with other towns. A lot of people prefer long term health issues to short term beaten to death by the undead.

You know, maybe this whole city-state thing is overrated. We just need enough people in one area, and not worry about salvaging a power structure That survived the Event. Could work. Doesn't mean we're leaving though - Tower Reversed loves to prey on people emigrating to Tesla. I wonder if they work together, TR gaining wealth and forcing people to stay here. Hmm. You'd think the end of world government would mean less conspiracies, not more huh?

Tesla Internal Games (Draft)

To many outside observers, the Free City of Tesla seems less like a state and more like a cult. This is not necessarily a false view. With great fervor, the citizens speak of transcending human conditions, life without want, and remaking society into a more functional paradigm. Nor is it false to say that they have made some progress in these claims. It would be untrue, however, to say they have gotten very far.

Post scarcity is not strictly possible - food may be available to all and electricity easily produced, but some things will always be limited. Unless the venue is infinitely large, there will be only so many tickets to the concert, and the bathrooms or front row seats even more limited. (And from what I've heard, even if the venue was infinite, bathrooms would still be rare). From the viewpoint of Tesla's inhabitants - food and energy are available in both greater amounts and types than in many other city-states but it is still not so abundant as to be free. Materials for their social experiments - whether it be nano-feed-stock, superconductor-magnets, magnetic uranium data-storage drives, or biologically safe materials for implants are all limited and neither minded nor produced in Telsa's facilities. Hence there is always a struggle to validate one project versus another.

Living space is also limited, and without access to large tunnel boring machines - the underground portions are not going to increase anytime soon. Although the lifestyles within Tesla de-emphasize personal space - there are far too many hopeful settlers waiting outside the main security perimeter.

Fortunately, most of the competition has not taken a deadly turn yet. Poetry slams, duels with wooden broken, quiz show challenges, and Go tournaments have helped decide things at times, but shootings and poisonings have been rare. More dangerous competitions is usually preformed by outsiders - groups competing by proxy by making teams of hopeful applicants retrieve materials or machines for Tesla. In turn this leads to one of the bigger resentments of Tesla - the Free City dangles to hope of entry above others heads, and forces them to take risks for the privilege, while those inside remain safe.

It is not just the projects that matter, but who gets to work on the projects. Even as Tesla claims to be working towards a total human society, how to grant citizenship is a troubling issue. Should they only accept children to ensure every citizen understands the technology and ideals - or can adults be allowed for practical skills? How much effort does it take to buy in a single person versus a family? Is the buy in enough - or should there be an IQ test or other qualification, for that mater could the other qualifiers override the need for tribute? Does anyone showing up with gifts get to trade, or only those who go on Tesla approved missions?

Tesla is safe and far less concerned with daily survival than most settlements. However, its ability to expand is limited, and the materials for its long term projects in short supply. Meanwhile more hopefuls show up at their gates every day seeking entrance to the great city under the hill, and dealing with these restless crowds is a confusing issue.

Older Machines

Wearable computers are nice, and some are designed to be fairly durable. Most are not, however, and repeated flexing, washing, or wear will crack or bend internal components. High end versions had removable memory cartridges that act as a back-ups, but most were meant for closet interfaces or wi-fi. Cell-phones and tablets also tended to have a problem with durability - so long as circuits are printed or soldered together, there is a way for them to separate. Crystal disks are an exception, since its all arrayed in the matrix, thus data taking physical form in the block - but you still need something to read that disk.

So the search is on for actual computers, and that is always a bit of a pain. Computers became a part of everyday life quite literally - you computer desk was not a piece of wood you put a CPU on top of, but contained the processor itself. Testing tables in ruins and then dragging out the complete object is an annoying job for movers under good circumstances, much less when reanimates or aliens are about. Stand alone computers still exist, but are more of a specialists tool or gamer's toy.

You could hack something out of multiple game stations and some code - but how many of us are actually engineers versus casual end users? Still easier than working with a computer of Citizen design. The basics are the same, but their code is either undocumented, or the comments are written in the offspring of Braille and musical notation. Someone has probably opened their OSes, but they aren't selling, so what good is it?

Basements are the key. Hospitals, government buildings, factories - those sites have usually been exploited or destroyed. The average attic full of junk might still be useful however. Never underestimate the little scores of suburbia.

Dining in the Zone

Nutrition tends to be an all or nothing affair. Sometimes you have nothing but vegetables, and others you eat the fattiest parts of poorly butchered animals because that is all you caught.

Fried foods are common at times because the thermal retention makes it easy to cook a lot of food at once (hence why most fast food restaurants served potato fries) provided you can get the oil. Of course, how many of us know about pressing oil? I know virgin olive oil is more expensive than the kind that slept around, but I don't know how much pressure you'd use, and since the bottle said "cold pressed" I presume there is a hot process. Also, apparently canola oil comes from rape-seed. Bottles of "Rape Oil" were apparently very difficult to market and need some explaining on the grocer's shelves. Oh yeah, you can't forget making the stuff into bio-diesel when you're done with it.

Baking is popular since "put it into the oven and walk away for three hours" lets you spend time doing things other than cooking. Going in the opposite direction - quick cooking via stir-fry is another way to minimize time invested. Low simmering soup is good, but you generally want a bit more calorie density - and less reliance on water is better since you can't always be too sure about quality. Boiling removes living things well enough - but industrial run off from no longer maintained factories and buildings is a bit more problematic.

There are fairly few microwaves in the zone, and we miss them. Mind you, actual ovens are stupidly common - they survived The Event's EMP with great frequency. No surprise really - they're literally built as Faraday cages to maintain the radio-waves from the magnetron so that it doesn't microwave the user or interfere with other consumer products in the kitchen. The horridly rare ubiquitous technology is cell-phones, because no one thought to store them in the microwave for some silly reason. Microwaves are to rare because they have no trade value and are too difficult to carry. It is hard to pack them around, since they have a large minimum size and cant be stacked like pans. We must also consider that it takes a pretty large amount of electricity to run an oven, which in turn has generator, battery, and fuel costs.

Its kind of a 50-50 shot as to if you eat alone or with others. Meal times have always been a social occasion and a lot of cooking is done communally to conserve fuel and limit the number of things to be washed (water clean enough to wash in being somewhat rare). Conversely, its one of the few times you're not at work, and thus not required to be around people, so declining community is not uncommon either.

Mars - 2053

Mars is a dead planet. We made it that way.

We had atmosphere recyclers, and were working on ways to extract it from the rust rocks all around. But even with supply shots every few weeks sped up by low cost launching, it remained that we were just a few malfunctions away from disaster.

A number of the suicides were caused by people wondering about the what ifs. What if it had been one international effort rather than several nations with separate colonies? What if we had been able to pool every thing immediately? What if a few had just stepped forward to make a sacrifice, or we had drawn lots for it? Would a little bit of dignity and an acceptance of death been enough?

Too late now.

Short version - we turned on each other. Raided the other settlements to ensure we had spares for the oxygen scrubbers. Misappropriated rock hammers and mining lasers to kill each other. Maybe we could have stopped once the population was at a fairly sustainable level, but the esprit de corps, and the call for revenge was too strong. The victims were people we had seen every single day for years, specifically chosen because we couldn't bear to kill them - so of course we couldn't just accept one of our team mates was dead and move on.

There still isn't much word on why all contact was lost, or what those alien ships are - but unless there is an outright zombie apocalypse back there, it can't be worse then living here.

Show Brainstorming

Hobbes took a few thoughtful bites, then set down his toast. "We've given our listeners a number of hints on dealing with citizens, we've never shared with the citizens tips on dealing with humans. Do you think there would be a pay-off if we tried?"
  "I don't know" Diego began "We already have one here, that would be a pretty big pay-off itself. The aliens to the east aren't going to listen, and we can't be too sure any other ones would trust us. What kind of pay-off can you expect? There are truces with small towns and limited fighting - but none of them have tried throwing in with a major city-state, No attempts to replace satellites have gone off without getting shot down. nor are they going to pay us much tribute."
   "Sounds like there is room for improvement then."
   "Hobbes, I was town a few days ago, and found a reclamation specialist who had some cocaine to trade. You do not grow that stuff anywhere near hear. We have all of civilization to save and rebuild, yet someone down south still thinks growing and selling poison to stupid Yankees is a priority. If citizen nature is even half as bad as human nature - its just not going to happen."
   "Well, what can we do then?"
   "I don't subscribe to the 'I'm not a pessimist, I'm a realist' junk adage - I'm just a pessimist. I would agree that we are doing a good thing, just not that we are doing all the good things, or even much good things. However, at some point that greed is going to matter. Citizens are going to want potato chips enough to actually trade with or deal with humans to get them in a manner easier than growing an unknown vegetable and an unknown legume to produce oil to fry them in. The trouble is humans need to start their machine, the alien's theirs, and then the two need to find out where the cogs inter-mesh."
  "What if we redefine the metaphor? Argue its a path together, encourage sharing now, not once everyone has factories?"
   "Words have power. Bullets do as well. But really, power is power - all else is just tools. We can describe the world and influence some opinions, but it takes an actual demonstration of ability to influence. The world isn't a quantum state that changes because you look away."
  "Didn't we rule out physics metaphors?"
   "Have we played a devil's advocate yet that hasn't had a few broken rules?"

Lost Contact

"The Net has been down for days now. Nothing good can come of this."
  "So just use the radio."
  "Doesn't work like that, we don't have one."
  "What do you mean, you don't have a radio? How can you not have a radio? There are no servers, there is no mail, there is no telephone, the satellites were shot down... There is Nothing BUT Radio!"
  "Just exactly where have you been the last forty five years? Cellular networks man. Better than radio in every way. Don't need big transmission towers, not prone to static, and sms is non-synchronous. If the guy at home is away from the radio - no message is received  A text you can read whenever you want, and remains a note in stressful situations. If you can find some transmitters - not too hard since service trucks are grounded at act as Faraday cages - its easy to set up and easier to communicate."
  "So everything about reanimates you ever need to know is expressed in a few dozen words?"
  "Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, Whiskey Delta Tango Charlie Charlie, Golf Tango Foxtrot Oscar."
  "Foxtrot Uniform to you as well!"
  "What was that - your breaking up."

Passing the Message

Poor communication kills. We need to know exactly how many bullets are left, where the nearest shelter is, and how many reanimates there are, not "some", "to the right (No, stage right!)" and "sort of a lot". But you also have to be careful you're not revealing to much to the opposition, lest they use it against you.

I find that when it comes to citizens, the simpler, the better. They still have plenty of computers and cryptographers around - scrambled transmissions and cypher codes are too easy to break. However, they are not very familiar with idioms or slang - so take a page from the Navajo code talkers - substitute words, preferably in a technical or foreign language. I've heard Latin has had some success . I wouldn't trust it however, being the root of other languages, they may be able to work backwards. Hebrew, Hindi, and other non-romance languages are preferable - at least if you're not in that part of the world. (Citizen Outposts adapt to the local environment, just like a good scavenger should!)

More complex codes work against humans, if you can manage it - which you probably can't. Really - you're evacuating from the house because undead are breaking down the door - do you grab an extra gun or the two to the 256 to the 256th bit encoding mechanism? Did you even have one in the first place? Yeah, communication is pretty easy to monitor these days, especially since you just need the right HAM radio channel for most of it. Good couriers are well paid these days, and military communications gear may soon top even farm equipment as the number one in demand item. That is one of the advantages of Vegas - they have the communication thing licked - if only they had outsiders worth talking too!