The Thirty by Thirty Solution

By Patrick Conley

Imagine a world in which work is rare, pot and booze flow freely, and no one seems to have any real concerns—at least no one other than a few elites who run the New Way. Such a world may appear to have few drawbacks. After all, robots have relieved mankind of the tedium of menial jobs, and totally mechanized armies fight the wars in distant countries; even the infantry consists of robotic soldiers. No one is forced to do much of anything, and people are free to pursue their own desires.

Yet a father and a son, long separated but both initially dedicated to this New Way, become disenchanted and start an odyssey of renewal and reunion—one to rejoin his wife and the other his mother and father.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 4, 2017
• ISBN: 9781546203155

Patrick Conley

Patrick Conley has spent his entire life immersed in fiction. He grew up in a family that treasured books. Both his father and his brother taught English for over thirty years. His mother and grandmother devoted what little spare time they had to reading. So, it’s no surprise that Patrick taught English for forty-five years after earning his Ph. D. From The Ohio State University. He enjoys time with his family and in his spare time enjoys writing fiction. Some of his more recent books include two works that act as sequels to Conversations with the Living and the Dead—A Convocation of Five and Dialogues Among the Species. His more recent works include Two Quests in an Age of Uncertain Spirits and Broken Families, Dreams and Hopes. These and other of his works are available on Amazon.

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2017 Patrick Conley. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 08/04/2017

ISBN: 978-1-5462-0316-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-0315-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017912114

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1 Preliminary Assignment

Chapter 2 Planning Session

Chapter 3 A Mentor’s Mentor

Chapter 4 The Tier Fives

Chapter 5 Francisco’s Words

Chapter 6 A Father Lost

Chapter 7 A Moment’s Grace

Chapter 8 Banquet Under the Stars

Chapter 9 Of Monsters Real & Imagined

Chapter 10 Ce-Ce’s Pleasure House

Chapter 11 Hell on Earth

Chapter 12 The Crossings

Chapter 13 Debriefings and New Directions

Chapter 14 Reconstructing the Scene

Chapter 15 Francisco’s Message

Chapter 16 Mike’s Triumph and Retreat

Chapter 17 Father & Son

Chapter 18 Penny

Chapter 19 Epilogue

FOREWORD & FOREWARNING

All characters in this work are fictitious. Anyone searching for resemblances to living or deceased people will be disappointed. Fiction allows us an escape from reality and a retreat from the mundane even as it teases us into believing, if only momentarily, that his world of letters is real. However, if the characters and situations remain as flights of imagination, perhaps the stories themselves may provide some small element of truth.

A DEDICATION AND A THANKS

I am grateful to my wife, children and grandchildren who allow me to indulge myself in my avocation: writing books that few people read (perhaps for good reason).

I dedicate this is work to the millions who every day struggle to keep their families intact.

LIST OF MAJOR CHARACTERS

(in order of appearance).

Tier One, Elite Agents

Mike O’Toole, an agent in the eastern region

Amanda, Mike’s supervisor

Anthony, Head agent of the St. Louis Region

Mona, a St. Louis agent

Will, a St. Louis agent

Veronica, Will’s intern

Agnes, Anthony’s intern

Stu, Mona’s intern

Dan O’Toole, Mike’s father

Mary & Bill, Dan’s interns

Penny, Dan’s wife & Mike’s mother

Tier Two, Average players

Brad, chair of the music for the Thirty by Thirty celebration

Melinda, chair of the champagne & chocolate fountains

Derek

Delila

Tier Three, the Doped & Deceived

Ernie, Tisha. Cameryn, Cecilia

Tier Four, the No Names

Tier Five, Fringe people

Iggy (Ignatius) & Beatrice, the leaders of a St. Louis fringe community

Patrick, Beatrice & Iggy’s son

Francisco, a spiritual leader in the St. Louis fringe community

Natalie, a member of the Pittsburgh fringe community

Annie & Adam, Natalie’s parents

Jim, Natalie’s brother

Those Outside of the Tiers

Miss Ce-Ce, the owner & operator of a bordello

Gabby, Miss Ce-Ce’s bartender

Aelie, elderly ATV operator

Charlie, owner operator of a ferry across the Mississippi & Ohio rivers

Terry, the blind prophet who isn’t blind

LIST OF AGENCY ACRONYMS

(In alphabetical order)

ANN, Agency News Network

EML, Extended Medical Leave

ERT, Emergency Reconnoiter Team

GEIC, Genetically Encrypted Identification Code

HHP, Happy Harmony Pills

MAM, Mind Alert Message

MRA, Mandatory Retirement Age

MRE, Meals Ready to Eat

OLS, Official Lodging Status

OMS, Organic Memory Strip

PMD, Personal Message Device

RT, Rapid Tube

TA, The Agency

TFS, The Final Solution

TNA, The New Way

USAMOSTL, United States of America, Missouri, St. Louis

USAPAPTG, United States of America, Pennsylvania, Pittsburgh

VD, Vulture Drones

CHAPTER 1

Preliminary Assignment

It’s time, Michael: The Thirty by Thirty Solution.

Already?

"Yes, you are to spearhead the 2025USAMOSTL__

Cohorts 1-333_A-U. Amanda spoke briskly, pointedly as if she had rehearsed the lines, as she undoubtedly had. She orchestrated, rehearsed, revised, researched, evaluated her almost every action. Still, that proclivity didn’t explain the jarringly red lipstick she sported almost as if an antithesis to an otherwise wholly rationale organism. Amanda remained an enigma. She must have read somewhere that leadership entails a certain aura of mystery. Keep ’em guessing, and they’ll always be a bit unnerved," must have been her mantra.

I stared at her dumbly. I hadn’t been back to USAMOSTL in years, decades, in fact. How had it changed in thirty years? I was no longer eighteen but a middle aged forty-eight as were all those in 2025__Cohorts 1-333_A-U.

If I didn’t know better, I would suspect you were a cow or an ox or even an opossum. Get to it Michael. You are to leave in three hours on the Rapid Tube, precisely at noon so that you will be there for a three-thirty planning session with your staff, whom I have already sent in advance. You are to have complete freedom of action within the guidelines of the protocol for the Thirty by Thirty Solution. Is that clear?

Absolutely, I tried to mimic her clipped and precise manner but slurred the s sound so meanly that it came out almost as an sh.

"You’re not drinking, are you? We’ve experienced some difficulty with those in your cohort. For some it doesn’t matter. For you and those like you it does. Amanda’s clipped message rang from her as she rocked a bit and tried to spit it out—once again a mannerism well rehearsed. Then she quickly composed herself arms akimbo, assuming the pose of the headmaster of one of those now antiquated private schools we had seen in films. In the Agency’s list of players, Amanda was #37; I was #99, far beneath her and she seldom let me forget my lowered status. To even begin to address her as an equal, I’d at least have to rise to the same decile. Besides, Amanda wanted things done if she were ever to enter the domain of the top thirty, who, so I’ve heard, enjoy food, sex, and status beyond the imaginations of those beneath them.

No, Amanda, just a bit tired and overwhelmed. Last night we had to address an early morning, three am to be exact, unfortunate incident at Corridor 138, USAPAPTG. Three went Without Proper Medication for weeks and tried to abandon their corridor.

Well, what became of it?

Two were terminated and disposed of by drones, the other has already reached the mandatory retirement age and isn’t expected to make it.

Very well, then. But I don’t like to leave things untidy. Maintain contact with the operatives handling the terminations while you’re spearheading the 2025 USAMOSTL affair, and then let me know if the mandatory retirement factor has worked. We can’t deal with any more such incidents. It makes us all look, well, a bit untidy.

Yes, of course. This time I managed to pronounce the s sound with almost the same precision that Amanda exhibited. Was I becoming more like her every day? Well, off to make arrangements for the Tube Travel, not that it was complicated but protocol had to be followed scrupulously or I’d be rushed off at over 400 mph in the wrong direction and have to face the glaring, accusatory eyes of Amanda as well as that blood-red lipstick she sported as some type of atavistic warning to those who would cross her. From my cubicle—I wasn’t at headquarters much but out in the field so no need for an office—I entered in my destination and mission code 2025USAMOSTL__Cohorts 1-333_A-U. The screen promptly lit up with the following message: "Employ Encrypted Code H-TAU." I made a mental note, "Odd, this has a higher security clearance than I would have thought. The Thirty by Thirty Solution? What problem were we solving anyway? That nomenclature had always been just that, words without much meaning, just a title, no more. Oh, well, the boys and girls downstairs had developed almost undecipherable codes for everything, including personal hygiene. Back at the Academy, we even had to count out and record the number of bathroom tissues we used daily—no more than twenty-one, no less than fourteen. Each square had been embossed with a sophisticated bar code. We entered our numbers—which had to match with usage recorders positioned on our commodes—and shot them downstairs to be evaluated by our medical staff. So, for the most part we all looked down rather than up. In our world, skyscrapers had turned inward, no longer challenging the heavens but undergirding the earth.

Taking the Tube posed no problem. I was to leave in three hours from Platform West 380. In another three hours I would arrive at Platform Central 133, thirteen floors below my destination and would be whisked upwards to the Agency’s Regional Office, which, to my surprise, was stationed above ground. Most of The Agency’s offices remained securely subterranean, for obvious reasons, of course. Apparently, though, I’d be dealing with a heterogeneous public, though. I hadn’t done that in a while. I could review the rest of my directives on the two hour travel time. I would have a private, secured compartment, quite distinct from that of any of the other passengers, all of whom worked for The Agency and had the same or, perhaps, even higher security clearances than I had. Was I getting important? Or was Amanda testing me? Or was this Thirty by Thirty Solution business more than I had ever imagined?

I could let those thoughts stew for a while, while I attended to brunch. After the three am disturbance, I couldn’t sleep, so I went to work. I could dine on The Tube—the food there enjoyed a well deserved reputation for excellence—but I wanted to concentrate on reading the thirty or pages of instructions I had to master before I arrived at my destination. So, I tapped in a lunch order: poached salmon, spinach salad with vinaigrette dressing, boiled parsley new potatoes, and a lemon sorbet for dessert. All but the lemon sorbet was approved. Apparently I had been exceeding my daily ration of desserts and merited a terse reprimand, Excessive Sweets—Denied Access. In less than five minutes my plate surfaced on the right side of my cubicle in the one square meter area allocated for personal matters.

Just as I was about to savor the first bite of a somewhat early brunch my phone lit up thunderbolts. No time to eat. This had to deal with the incident in corridor 138 and required the emergency ten digit code (which I ascertained would be better left mysterious even though—well, of that matter later). The two terminations were confirmed and the drone vultures had handled the remains. The third organic being had left barely detectable traces indicating that a life form remained intact. But these readings had grown increasingly faint as the life form had entered a heavily forested area and its biological prints had merged with those of other animate beings. A bit puzzled by a situation I hadn’t dealt with before and hadn’t recalled any specific protocol for, I ordered a drone-scan of the likely perimeters. If that failed, I’d call for an ERT (Emergency Reconnoiter Team) to pursue, engage, and terminate.

Just then the metallic click of Amanda’s heels reverberated. Soon she’d halt at my station. She did. Well, I see that you haven’t finished your brunch. You eat and I’ll talk. So, maintaining eye contact, I forked into my salmon and cocked an ear. I understand that you’ve already ordered a drone-scan for the incident at Corridor 138. Good. Furthermore, you’ve put the ERT on alert in the eventuality that they might be called into service. Even better. You have two hours and forty-three minutes until your Tube leaves. Pack for a stay of four to six weeks, somewhat longer than anticipated and significantly longer than the Protocol calls for. You will have to do most of your work in the old spaces, the area above ground, so you will have to contend with weather transmutations. Do you understand?

Yes, Amanda, I do. I was about to add, Does this change in protocol warrant a lemon sorbet? but thought better of it. Her tone resonated with some unfamiliar chords. She turned—actually did more of an about-face—and delivered a most unfamiliar order. You’ve been approved for a glass of Chardonnay with brunch, just one. See that you drink it. As soon as she had clicked off, the crystal wine glass surfaced on my personal space. A bit early to drink, I thought.

With my bags packed—I didn’t need much as one Agency office was pretty much like any other and all came well provisioned—I took off a bit early for the Rapid Tube, a bit of nerves, I guess, but I wasn’t sure why. As if to overwhelm the darkness of fifteen stories below ground, the Rapid Tube fulminated with a blinding brightness, the polished stainless steel and sparkling white walls assailing the eyes. Not even a stray wrapper or fleck of dust intruded upon the antiseptic whiteness as barely discernible vacuums whisked away any small fragments. Here passengers didn’t bustle or scurry or bump against each other, like billiard balls on the break. Individuals formed queues; documents were checked, eye scans conducted to verify identity, missions recorded, and each passenger transported to her or his seat—or in my case compartment.

The only sound reverberated from the loudspeakers, which blared out departure times and quick news flashes from the ANN (Agency Network News). However, the constant refrain from the loudspeakers dulled the senses—or at lest my senses, which just tuned out messages I had heard a thousand times:

Pleasure to the People!

The Agency Does What You Want Done!

The Agency Is the Answer!

The constant refrain overwhelmed conscious thought and induced a hypnotic state, a tidal wave obliterating thought and action, or at least it was designed to do so. Quite frankly, the booming propaganda simply annoyed me.

I settled into my compartment, ordered a coffee although I was still aching for that lemon sorbet, opened my laptop to the Thirty by Thirty Solution and read my instructions. After sipping my coffee and skimming the first four pages, I surprised myself a bit by blurting out, Well, at least I won’t have to blow on a ram’s horn until everyone arrives. The steps were outlined precisely. Tier One participants all worked for the Agency and would form my planning committee and would meet me in above ground office upon my arrival. Tier Two participants would be contacted by their assigned Tier One mentor. Tier Three and Tier