A Haven From the Storm

Chapter 1: Down and Out in Liberty City

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It's amazing how life can turn from excellent to miserable in the twinkling of an eye.

The day had started out an excellent one indeed. I was an Aerospace engineer, a very young one, at Dynatech in Liberty City. We were a small contractor for Project Venture, the first manned voyage to Mars. We built the small vernier rockets that would push the large Venture Marsship gently away from the International Space Station and out to a distance of three hundred kilometers, where the main nuclear engines could safely be started.

This was launch day, and all of us were in the main conference room, watching the broadband video feeds on monitors scattered around the room. Mission Control - Houston, Launch Control - ISS, Venture Flightdeck, and a variety of telemetry displays were there for our viewing pleasure. For the first several minutes of the flight, as the verniers started their burn, we were very nervous...Sweet mercy, will they work? Did we forget something? What if...! So my eyes, like everyone else's, were fixed to the propulsion systems monitor, twitching in sympathy to every change in the readings. As the burn proceeded flawlessly, we relaxed and started to even enjoy the show, listening to the chatter between crew and controllers..

"At 17 plus 35 into the flight, range 290 kilometers and all systems look good."

"Copy, Houston, reactor startup sequence complete."

"Confirmed. Venture, you are go for main engine start."

"Roger, go for main engine start. Proceed. Engine start."

"We see it, Venture. Our boards are all green."

"Thrust building up to nominal levels. Vernier shutdown."

"Copy."

With that, we all jumped out of our seats, cheering and shouting for joy. Venture had three years of flying ahead - to, around, and back from Mars, but our part of the mission was over - completely successful! We were high-fiving, slapping each others backs and getting into the champagne that some people had smuggled in against regulations. A few of the old timers had even lit up the stinky cigars that were necessary for celebrating success in the old space program.

As people calmed down a little and again started watching the monitors while chatting, I saw one man who wasn't celebrating. The president of Dynatech, "J.J." Johnson, was sitting in the back, quiet, tense and unhappy. "What is the matter with him?", I thought. J.J. was very much a gruff, old school missile man. He expected 110% from everyone, and when he got it, he'd grin and say "I knew you had quality in you boy, jus' needed a little kick to get it out!" Then he would celebrate with us just as hard as he worked with us. But he wasn't celebrating now.

J.J., looking very unhappy, circulated among us, handing each an envelope. I opened mine and...a termination notice and a last check! What?!

J.J. stood at the front of the room and spoke:

"Gentlemen, I'm really sorry I have to do this, especially on this day when you've shown that you're all the best, startin' our boys off to Mars like that.

"This was our last project, and now it's over. I've been goin' all over the country the last few months, lookin' for more, but you know how hard times are, and there's just nothin' to be had anywhere.

"With no income, I got no choice but to shut Dynatech down. Of course, I'll keep lookin' for customers, and if I'll find some, I'll call you all back - same positions and pay. I'll give you all the best letters of recommendation you ever saw, but..."

he whispered and actually sobbed a bit

"...don't know as it'll help any. Damn, I hate this worse than anything. You men are the best I've ever worked with, and now it's all gone."

J.J. couldn't speak anymore, and slowly walked out of the room, shaking his head.

That ended the party, naturally. We just bid each other farewell, exchanged addresses and phone numbers..."Good luck, see you - sometime." and headed to our cubicles.

I gathered my books and other personal items together into plastic grocery bags - it's not safe to look prosperous, like carrying a briefcase, on the streets of Liberty City. I turned off my computers, lights, and headed out the door. Before leaving, I looked around the building that had been my real home the last three years - the workshops, the libraries, the cubicles of my fellows. I shook my head and echoed J.J.- "it's all gone." Then I left Dynatech forever.

What to do now? Well, first thing was to go to the bank and get some cash - it was the end of the week, rent was due and I was tapped out. The six block walk to the Federal Security Bank was the usual dodging past bums, hoodlums and ordinary people trying to look like one of them to avoid being accosted - or worse. Turning the block to the bank, I saw a large crowd in front of the doors, which were locked. Some looked angry, some confused. A sign on the door read "Bank closed until further notice." "What in...?" An old-timer standing next to me said (to himself really)

"The word got around this morning that the bank was in trouble. I got here at 8 and there was already a line around the block of people wanting their money. I waited for three hours, then some stuffed shirt shouted that the bank was out of money and locked the doors."

A bank run! I'd never heard of one, except in history books about the 1930s. Well, I reflected, the deposits are insured, so I'll get my money when they open in a few days.

The people were crowding around someone standing on a car hood, shouting. I got closer to see - it was one of the local Communists. They tended to pop up out of nowhere, rant and pass out leaflets, then disappear before the cops or gangsters showed up to beat them silly. People generally ignored them - they were usually dogmatic, boring and absurd - but this one had the crowd's attention.

"...and you know why you're not gonna get yer money? Because the real owner of that bank, under the covers, is that swindler and gangster Donald Love! Yeah, him! You know what he did? He took the money he was supposed to pay for deposit insurance and stuffed it in his greasy pockets! Yeah, in his fatcat pockets! So he skips the country fat and happy with your money and you've got nuthin! That's yer lousy system..."

Gee! If that was right, I was in deep trouble...my life's savings were in that bank...or rather they weren't! The crowd was getting really angry, and down the street were coming a squad of cops. They didn't have their usual arrogant swagger, they actually looked scared by the ugly crowd. But they did have clubs and guns and the bank of the biggest mobster in the city to protect. It looked like a good time to be somewhere else, so I left.

At least I had my last check from Dynatech - 1500G wasn't much, but it would last a few days and I could surely think of something by then. It was another nine block walk to the Gold Trust Bank that the check was drawn on, and they, at least were open.

"I'd like to cash this check, please."

"Certainly, do you have an account here."

"No, I don't"

"Very well, we'll need three photo IDs, your fingerprints and a blood sample for DNA testing."

Seeing my shocked look, the teller explained:

"It's the new regulations by the Office of Homeland Security. Terrorists may try to get cash, you know."

"And what about the muggers outside trying to get people's cash, aren't they terrorists also?"

"I'm sorry sir, but those are the rules."

Sigh. I gave her the check and what they wanted - the blood sample was taken with a needleless suction syringe, labeled "Property of OHS - penalty of up to 50,000G fine and 20 years in prison for unauthorized use." The teller gave me 1400G cash, saying:

"Here you are sir, there is a 100G charge for cashing the check if you don't have an account here."

"But the check is drawn on an account here, surely there's no risk involved!"

"Sorry sir, but those are the rules. Now if you'd like to speak to security..."

"Never mind, thanks."

They get you every way they can - but at least I had enough for a week.

Outside, it was starting to snow - that ugly grey city snow that turned to brown sludge when it hit the ground. New Year's Eve, ordinarily J.J. would throw a monster party for us - he was a great believer in celebrating with his employees. But even if he had the money, we didn't have the mood. Except for the people at Dynatech, I didn't know anyone in the city to celebrate with. There were the public festivities in City Hall Plaza, but I didn't feel like an anonymous event with a crowd of strangers. Best to just pick up some food and go home.

A twelve block walk got me to my apartment, a small affair in a fairly clean and quiet modern building. The tenants were a lot of young professionals like me, plus some students from the nearby art school. I knew them only in passing: "Good Morning", "Good Evening." I fished the mail out of my box and went upstairs and into my room. It was small and sparse, just the basics and a few of my personal effects, but I never minded. After all, I only slept there - my life was at Dynatech. Was.

I started chowing down at the kitchen table and looking at the mail. A copy of Aerospace Weekly (Venture was on the cover, of course,) a couple of credit card solicitations, a letter from Mineral Village! Grandpa had run a farm at that place on the rugged coast for nearly seventy years. But this wasn't Grandpa's writing - return address was Mayor Thomas. Now why would he write me? I opened it and read:

After everything else, this was too much. I just put my head on the table and cried.

A few minutes later, I was calmer and started thinking about my options. Of course I'd go to Mineral Village to wind up his affairs, but then what. I knew few people in Liberty City, all associated with Dynatech, and they were as bad off as me. No point even looking for another engineering job here - the depression was killing tech companies left and right. The thought of getting another kind of job here was repulsive (even if I could find one.) I hated this ugly, violent city.

My parents were dead, now Grandpa, the closest relative I had nearby was Aunt Maureen, widowed and living on her husband's pension in our old hometown of Springfield. I shouldn't like to impose on her. There were my childhood friends there and I'm sure one or another would put me up until...until when? Until I got some menial job doing retail or pumping gas, waiting for some real work to appear? All my other uncles and aunts were on the other coast, and they were so distant I'm not sure they'd be willing to help me.

There was my old school - when I graduated, a couple of my professors wanted me to continue with graduate studies. I wasn't interested then - Dynatech had just offered me that piece of the Mars flight - the adventure of a lifetime! After three years of real-life engineering, the thought of going back to classrooms, libraries and make-work laboratories was even less appealing.

Shrugging, I did what I'd done before in life when I had to take action I didn't want to - put myself where I couldn't avoid doing something. I packed all my belongings into a backpack (how few there were!) I put this weeks rent and my apartment keys in an envelope addressed to the realty company. I went out, dropped the envelope in a mailbox and I was free of Liberty City forever.