Here's part 6 of my cli-fi story, 'Infernal'. It's a little out of sequence established by earlier pieces but is another piece introducing every day folks' response to problems presented. I'm starting to introduce some DIY ideas in into the mix too.
This piece was stimulated by something that has been bothering me for a while now - the inability of our bodies to cool down once conditions reach a certain combination of temperature and humidity.
It's the first chapter to include cover artwork by @iodacasamia.
It took me an hour to work my way through the dust storm to the building I owned and lived in. If you could, the storms were good times to travel; the worst elements of the remnants of society were less likely to be hunting and surveillance was impeded.
Removing the plastic that had been pushed into spaces around the door, I stepped inside. Removing my mask, glasses and scarf, I shook them free of dust and contaminants. I nodded to the folks camping out on the stairs who took a big step back and a deep breath in as I did. I’d let folks stay there after the fires had ripped through a large part of the residential areas last year, leaving tens of thousands without a roof over their heads. Some had migrated, some found temporary shelter like this, some had just curled up and died.
There were about twelve folks camped out on the stairs and landings on any given day. Even though the folks who leased the apartments hadn’t been back in over a year, I still kept them locked tight.
Cat, the nominal leader of the tribe of stair dwelling denizens reminded me again ‘The Open Door policy was put through to open unoccupied apartments and rooms and buildings to folks who had nowhere to live’.
‘Folks like us…’ she added with a touch of venom.
‘Sure Cat’ I replied, ‘but the government that pushed that policy through is no more. Haven’t been around in a while’.
She turned and wandered off toward the front door. It was an almost daily conversation, part of our everyday routine.
As the building was mine and there were no authorities around to enforce any rules, I could do with it as I liked. There was another reason that I kept the doors locked though. Each apartment resident had received a food and a water package shortly before the shutdowns and they were still locked away inside - I had checked. I kept them where they were because I didn’t believe in keeping all my eggs in one basket - there were a lot of people far greedier than me. Violent people so it was good not to stash it all in one place.
There was one more possibility, however nebulous - there had been a law that, as long as it was unproven that the apartments had been abandoned, the leaseholders could receive other handouts and I, as the landlord, would be the one to receive them - for safe keeping, of course.
In the untouched apartments were also trinkets and tradable items, should I ever need them and water in the pipes and toilet cisterns.
The stair crew were edgy today though. It is going to be the fourth night in a row when the temperature is staying above 26 degrees and the humidity is tipping 95%. Over that combination, people can die as their bodies can’t cool down.. There is nowhere for the sweat to evaporate to. Lately there had been no wind either, no breeze to cool and no electricity to power fans.
The dying would start with the sick, those with kidney conditions, bronchial and respiratory problems, then the elderly, then everybody. A couple had died on the stairs last night and a few on the street the night before.
I had a thought and gathered the stair people around on the first floor landing.
‘Folks, I have an idea’. ‘Let's take off some of the roof above the top floor of the staircase and light a fire’. I laughed.
I expected the usual round of denials, accusations of craziness and that the heat had twisted my brain. All expected.Then I explained my goal to create a thermal chimney. The small crowd still murmured in disbelief and spoke amongst themselves.
I have tools in the basement. We can remove the ceiling and roof from directly above the stairwell. We create a fire on the top landing and hand wet sheets and towels and the like on the first floor. The heat from the fire will rise straight up , out of the building and pull the air from the lower levels with it. That air will be drawn through the wet materials on the first floor landing and cooled. It’ll be just like an evaporative air conditioner. As long as we stay on the first and second floor landings and stairs, we should survive the night.
A couple of the young kids looked at each other then burst out ‘We’ll get the wood and start the fire’! They were already off.
‘I used to be a carpenter’ said one older guy. ‘If someone can help me we can knock a hole above the stairs in no time’!.
Then I realized that we didn't have much material for the sheets that needed to be hung. I agonised over it for a few seconds then threw my keys to Cat. ‘Open the first floor apartments and grab the bedsheets and towels and any cloth that you can find’.
To her credit, Cat didn't say a word.
I’d better cover all my bases. I called after her ‘Check for any food or water in those rooms too’!
‘Who made you boss’? Came the reply.
‘I did of course’ was my retort. That was met by an audible grunt.
I didn’t need to play boss for long. People have an amazing way of self organising when pointed to a project left to their own devices. Mic the carpenter convinced three guys to follow him to the top of the stairwell to check out what needed doing. I handed him my second set of keys and showed him the one that opened the basement workshop. Like everything, it was best not to keep all of your keys in one place and I was getting nervous having both sets of mine out of my hands.
Sheets and towels were piling up on the first floor landing and I swear that I saw some folks sporting new clothes. Too late to concern myself with that, if they went for the low hanging fruit, maybe they’d leave the real valuables alone.
Work was slow and cautious. We were all exhausted from the heat and lack of food and water but the most dangerous aspect was the lack of sleep. Within a few minutes of starting the various projects that we needed to do there were a couple of minor bruises and cuts. We implemented a rule that every hour, each of us had to do a quick scan of their bodies, checking for unnoticed injuries, Every injury can turn septic in these conditions and the lack of water available for folks to wash with on a day by day basis - microbes sit in wait for an entrance to our body and an exhausted immune system will let them right in the door.
I cringed as I heard a toilet flush. One of the crew had wasted 2 litres of water. As they came out of the apartment, I pulled them aside and quietly whispered to them what they had cost us. I didn’t wait for their response but started sorting sheets.
There was shouting from apartment one, shortly followed by the same from two. They had found the food and water.
This is my favourite instalment so far. The feeling of despair and isolation disappears with the idea of the people uniting for a goal.
@tipu curate 2
Thanks! It is, ultimately a solarpunk story, so that means that it is ultimately positive in its outlook. More authors are deal with the gritty transition period between dystopia and utopia, though more are acknowledging that painful stage. Its even got a name now 'thrutopia'.
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