2032 Was a Very Good Year
By J. William MauckiUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2011 J. William Mauck
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4620-1390-6 Chapter One
Our story begins once upon a time in a parallel universe.
February 12, 2032 a musty odor permeated the dimly lit room. The paint had long since faded from the sheetrock on the pockmarked walls. Most of the bullet holes had been filled with some kind of plaster paste. There was a large open space in the false ceiling that exposed water pipes and electrical conduit. Water stains from the leaking roof discolored the remaining ceiling tiles. Water had trickled down the walls and onto the tile floors. This caused some of the tiles to lift up, and many were broken or missing. There were political posters of politicians' faces with fake toothy grins leftover from before the upheaval. This combined with the clammy, penetrating dampness and a smattering of graffiti helped to create a surreal atmosphere on the second floor of Macy's department store.
After surveying the room, Alex Foster stood straight and with an air of confidence walked slowly to the back of the room and sat behind an old retail dump table on a gray metal folding chair. He was now seated somewhat uncomfortably in what was once the shoe department in Macy's at the Mt. Shasta Mall in Redding, California. It wasn't for lack of interest in what Mr. Hagen, (affectionately known as "the professor") had to say; Alex just felt more at ease in the back row.
Alex was slightly uncomfortable being twenty-four and the oldest student in the class, but his discomfort was likely due to his life's experiences, and he just felt safer being near an exit. But perhaps even more importantly, this is where he could observe some cleavage and specifically the gentle rise and fall of Lyra Ricci's breasts. God, she was such a distraction.
Although she seemed friendly enough, Alex felt awkward trying to engage her in conversation. During the professor's lecture, Alex tried to stay focused, but he could not stop fantasizing about her. Sometimes, when the class ended, Alex, in an effort to avoid embarrassment and to conceal the state of his condition, had to wait a few minutes after the class was over so he could slip unnoticed down the back stairs to the mall parking lot.
Alex was tall and slim and had light brown skin. He had an athletic build, square shoulders, high cheekbones, straight black hair, and dark eyes. His strong chin had a dimple in the center. He trimmed his dark facial hair with scissors. Razor blades were hard to find, and Alex had not developed the knack of putting a sharp edge on a straight razor.
Alex was meticulous about his personal appearance and hygiene. He didn't like jeans and preferred wearing slacks, sport shirts, and polished leather shoes. He had a nice leather jacket he wore when it was cold. Alex liked to feel good in his clothes.
Alex knew he was some kind of mongrel, of mostly European descent. He had been told that his beloved grandmother was Cherokee and Mexican. Alex loved Cona, as he called her. She died of colon cancer in 2016. Alex was eight years old. She could have been saved, but she was living on Social Security and some bureaucratic panel had issued her a high number for the operation that could have saved her life. By the time her turn came up, the cancer had metastasized. The free clinic gave her some pills and sent her home to die.
Up to that point, Alex had known only the love of his family. This sad experience was a kind of awakening. In a perverse way, the state's indifference to his grandmother's suffering helped to prepare the young boy for a challenging and perplexing future.
Despite a nasty scar on his nose and having had part of his left ear blown off in a firefight with the urbanites, he was still a reasonably good-looking young man. Although he didn't realize it, his manly appearance and his lust for Lyra were not lost on her. Just knowing that Alex was obsessing over her gave Lyra a smile on her lips and a warm feeling in the pit of her tummy.
Chapter Two
Alex wasn't sleeping well. When he wasn't thinking about Lyra, his thoughts took him back to his childhood. When he finally did fall asleep, he was having nightmares. Sometimes he would awake in the night with his heart racing, and his sheets and pillowcase would be soaked in sweat.
Try as he might, he couldn't drive the memories of what he had been subjected to out of his mind.
Under the provisions of The Fair Progressive Enlightenment Act (FPEA) of 2014, Alex and just about everyone else of school age had been required (forced) to attend the Teachers Union State Controlled public schools.
And every morning all the little children chanted:
Mmm, mmm, mm!
Barack Hussein Obama!
He said that all must lend a hand
To make this country strong again.
Mmm, mmm, mm!
Barack Hussein Obama
He said we must be fair today.
Equal work means equal pay.
Mmm, mmm, mm!
Barack Hussein Obama
He said that we must take a stand
To make sure everyone gets a chance.
Mmm, mmm, mm!
Barack Hussein Obama
Yes!
Mmm, mmm, mm!
Barack Hussein Obama!
Yes, we can! Yes, we can!
This chant replaced the Pledge of Allegiance in the United States of America. There would be no mention of America the beautiful, "The Star-Spangled Banner," or God in textbooks. Teachers were instructed not to bring up these disputed subjects in the classroom. This was all part of a politically engineered social evolution designed to indoctrinate students in grades K through 12 into the new progressive educational system in compliance with the fair and safe provisions granted under the FPEA.
In 2016, Alex was initiated into The People's New Communalized Social Order. It may have been due to his upbringing that Alex would not accept this convoluted concept despite being subjected to extra sensitivity training.
Alex was in the ninth grade when the government fell under the weight of the Great Upheaval of 2021 that was closely followed by the First World Catastrophe of 2023 (IWC23).
No one knows exactly what happened. It was the Fourth of July 2023. In the United States, there would be no fireworks. All fireworks had long since been banned. Actually, anything that went bang was against the law. There wouldn't be any celebrating of Independence Day. Those who still had government jobs got the day off, but in America the holiday had long since degenerated into something more akin to "dependency on government entitlements day."
With most of the entitlements gone, there was not much to celebrate. In the days leading up to IWC23, most of the world's population was desperately fighting for survival. In the midst of the chaos and confusion, some countries had descended into civil war, while others were attacking their neighbors.
This implosion was brought on by worldwide socialism, the failure of the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and elements of the New World Order. These events lead to a massive worldwide monetary collapse. The clouds for a perfect storm were condensing. The timing was right for a monumental jihad to be launched against all infidels and the Great Satan.
Chapter Three
It all began when cyber warriors of the true believers of Islam (the religion of peace and love) began the attack by hacking into most of the world's power grids on the Fourth of July 2023 at 5:00 a.m. Greenwich Mean Time, thus causing a cascading power failure across the planet.
Two hours later, embedded members of various Islamic terrorist groups in a well-timed, coordinated effort began detonating dirty bombs in most of the major cities, and on or near military bases, nuclear power plants, and spent nuclear storage facilities in the United States, Canada, Europe, China, Japan, Russia, India, Mexico, Africa, and South America. Iran simultaneously hit Israel with missiles armed with nuclear warheads, making good on their threat to wipe Israel off the map.
However, the Israelis' sensors and radar picked up on the attack, and they were able to retaliate with a vengeance. The Israelis launched their own nuclear air strikes. Their missiles contained multi-megaton bombs with multiple warheads that would inflict devastation unprecedented in human history. In a matter of mere minutes, the entire Middle East would become a gigantic fireball and would be transformed into a radioactive, lifeless, barren desert for millennia.
In the confusion, India, Europe, China, and Russia exchanged thermal nuclear bombs. What with civilian authority wiped out and the chain of command broken, the United States military complex was in such a state of befuddlement that they did not respond. Dirty bombs killed millions of Americans instantly, and still millions more perished later as result of the bombings, but there would be no airbursts in the Western Hemisphere.
Ironically, the indecision by the US military and their failure to respond resulted in the survival of the nation and perhaps the world. No other country felt compelled to wreak any further destruction on America.
By midsummer 2023, 80 percent of the population of the northern hemisphere and 40 percent of the southern hemisphere were dead or lay dying. When the dust and radiation finally settled, the entire Middle East, North Africa, and most of the United States, Europe, China, Japan, and Russia would be left uninhabitable for hundreds if not thousands of years.
Both Australia's and New Zealand's superior security systems served as a deterrent, and they were successful in disrupting the plans of the terrorists to destroy them. South America and Southern Africa were not the primary targets and were not hit as hard. They fared much better at first. But their infrastructure was fractured. Without stable governments and support from North America and Europe, much of their population would soon be suffering from radiation poisoning, diseases, and starvation.
Chapter Four
At the onset of war, Commander Major Ike Brown of 197th mechanized infantry battalion from Fort Irwin happened to be on maneuvers near Shasta Dam. This twist of fate made it possible for him to lead the men under his command to triumph in the ensuing battles that occurred in the chaos of the aftermath of IWC23.
Soon after a decisive military victory at the Battle of the Bridges, Major Ike Brown, and a small group of community leaders, formed the Shasta Alliance. Elections were held. The major was elected to his first six-year term as the chief executive officer to the Shasta Alliance.
Major Ike, or Ike as everyone liked to call him, was the logical choice inasmuch as he had devised a battle plan and led a hastily formed, small, but formidable, well-disciplined military force that included regular army troops and the local militia.
They successfully defended the North State's most important asset, Shasta Dam, against the numerically superior urbanites. There is an old military saying, "Discipline is predicated on respect for and loyalty to properly constituted authority."
Major Ike Brown was that authority—cool and professional in battle, yet amiable and charming in his personality. He was of average height, a little stout; his head was shaved close to the skin. When dressed in civilian clothes, Ike looked snappy in his navy blue, chalk-striped, double-vented, double-breasted suit. He wore black shirts, and his white tie was highlighted with a Windsor knot. He topped it all off with a white panama straw fedora and black patent leather shoes. Ike was one dapper-looking dude.
Major Ike had the knack of maintaining the persona of a great leader. Ike exhibited a big grin on his round face. His looks and demeanor resembled that of a well-dressed, black General Dwight D. Eisenhower.
Everybody liked Ike. Four citizens were elected to form the Coalition of Pillars. There were no political parties. All the pillars were independents. They would serve no more than two three-year terms with minimal compensation. There were provisions for a bonus, based on their performance, as outlined in the terms of their contracts, to be paid at the end of the fiscal year.
Their first order of business was to reestablish a banking system. No one had any confidence in paper money. All those phony Obama certificates with Barack Obama's picture on it were worthless.
Gold and silver were in short supply. Major Ike's first priority was to defend Shasta Dam, secure the borders, and protect the citizenry. The major's second priority was to safeguard the new fledgling monetary system. The Alliance First State Bank was formed (AFSB).
The Big R-1 (Redding First) Garrison was billeted at the dam, so it was decided most of the hard currency would be stored five miles south of the dam, at the new AFSB in Shasta Lake City.
The cheap metal coins issued by the US government were dyed red and given face value. Real copper pennies, nickels, silver dimes, quarters, half dollars, and dollars were revalued at one hundred times their face value.
Gold was used only for major purchases or transactions involving organized coalitions or states. American gold eagles, krugerrands, maple leaf, and other solid gold coins were valued at one thousand units an ounce.
Hard currency was referred to as units (or *). Those serving in the military were paid sixty-five units or (*65) a shift. Those who were employed were paid an average of *25 an hour. Independent contractors bid or bartered for their services.
Chapter Five
After the Alliance was formed, a new political semblance of order was restored to the people of northern California.
The Reverend Kent Allen felt the desperate need of the people for healing, fellowship, salvation, and a community church.
Despite his past experiences, he could not ignore the call. With renewed energy and a restored faith in God, he would muster up all his courage to rally his family, friends, and neighbors. In 2025, he would establish the First Faith in God Church of Redding.
There was plenty of space available for a suitable location at what was once Shasta College on Market Street in downtown Redding. Kent and his wife would put together a group of believers to refurbish a large room on the ground floor at the north end of the building. Kent picked up furniture from some of the abandoned furniture stores.
Reverend Allen was an ordained Southern Baptist minister with a master's degree in divinity from the seminary in San Francisco. In light of the circumstances, he decided to open his church to all faiths.
Kent began his ministry in Australia after graduating from the seminary in 1998. He was restless and sought adventure, so he volunteered and served two years in the Australian outback ministering to the natives. This is where he met and later married Katherine, who was on assignment in the outback as a volunteer nurse. After a delightful honeymoon in the Caribbean islands, they returned to the bay area.
Kent was of Scandinavian descent: tall, thin, but not frail; tan; blue eyes; sharp features; with long blond hair combed straight back. He was in his forty-eighth year, still energetic and fit. He retained a hint of the Australian accent he had picked up during his service there. This coupled with his casual persona and dress gave him an appearance that was reminiscent of the movie character Crocodile Dundee.
When the great upheaval begun to unfold in 2021, the reverend found himself ministering to a small congregation of conservative fundamentalist, Christian Baptists in San Rafael, California. During this turbulent time, his daughter Natalie was attacked, brutally raped, and almost beaten to death on her way home from school.
This event shook Kent's faith at its core. The pressure to abandon the fight to save a decadent society that seemed hell bent on its own destruction became overwhelming.
He decided that it was time to move on and do what was in the best interest of his family. Kent had family and friends in northern California. He would move away from the city to a safer location to pursue a simpler life.
Kent and his family settled in a nice doublewide mobile home in the rural community of Palo Cedro, near Redding, California.
Kent had some retail experience, having worked in the shoe department at J. C. Penney while he was attending the seminary. When he applied at the local Penney's, the store manager, Mark Hamilton, checked his references and was pleased to hire him as a department manager for their store at the Mt. Shasta Mall.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from 2032 Was a Very Good Yearby J. William Mauck Copyright © 2011 by J. William Mauck. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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