The Swailing

Prospera: Too Much

Finn tells me we are in an area that was once called Illinois, and I remember there is a big city here somewhere, by a huge lake. I can't remember what it's called so I ask. He tells me it's now called Aon, after a large corporation that bought the naming rights. But he explains that the name changes every decade or so, depending on which corporation is willing to pay the most money for the sponsorship. It's been Baxter, Exelon, Motorola. Back when the U.S. was still united, he says the city was called Chicago, which is the name I couldn't remember. Now it makes sense why.

As we get closer to Aon, I start to notice a lot of apparently deserted buildings on the fringes of the city. Eventually they are joined by an endless stream of boarded up houses along the highway.

"Are all these empty?" I ask.

Finn nods. "Do you know about the influenza outbreak? Right after the U.S. divided?"

I feel a little proud that I do – seems like Finn knows more than me about everything and I'm finally glad I can contribute to the conversation instead of just soaking up his knowledge like a sponge.

"Yes! During The Swailing. Disease is one thing Optima makes sure we know about."

"Cities were really hard hit. I guess because people lived so close to each other. Millions of people died, not just here, but I think Aon got it particularly bad. Afterward I think they just left these buildings the way they were. Maybe people were too afraid to come tear them down."

Optima was not really affected by the influenza outbreak because we had stockpiled vaccinations against it. But some areas were not as prepared and suffered terribly. That outbreak was when Optima started being even more strict about travel. Staring at the empty, boarded-up buildings, I kind of understand why.

"ALL these people died?"

"Probably not all. But the ones who survived probably moved out of this area. It was definitely an unplanned but effective method of population control."

I think of the controlled burn we saw – the swailing – and how that flu epidemic was like a swailing of another morbid sort. Fear of that happening again is why they will probably not let me back in Optima even if I want to go.

I see the skyscrapers of the city in the distance. There are some taller buildings in Optima, but nothing like these monstrosities that you can see from 80 kilometers away. I remember learning something in school once about planes hitting a couple of buildings like that in New York. On purpose. But I don't remember why. That was around the turn of the 21st century, when the federal government was faltering, but still intact.

As we get closer to the city we see a different kind of area, just as sad as the abandoned buildings. I'm not sure what to call it so I ask Finn. He uses the word "slums." I've never heard that word before, but it feels right – gloomy and degraded and sad. These low, rambling, rundown stretches of ramshackle buildings appear to be abandoned at first glance, but when I look more closely I see signs of life – clothes hanging to dry across sagging wires, an occasional unkempt child playing along the curb in a thin coat, despite the cold, men with bottles of liquor clutched in their hands. The closer we get to the city, the more people we see – all sort of slouched and tired looking.

I'm intrigued and saddened by the slums. In Optima, nobody is extremely rich, but nobody is poor, either. The idea that these people live in such degraded conditions makes my throat tighten.

"I think we're getting closer," Finn says, and he checks the GPS. I look out the window again and see that the slums are gone and we're winding around never-ending concrete highways. I've never seen so many roads wrapped around each other, intertwined like worms in a pail. If it weren't for the GPS and Finn being able to read the complicated roadmaps, I'm sure we'd be going in circles.