An Awkward Situation

I wrote this to lilfluff's fourth prompt "Alternate Atlantises (Atlantii?) run into each other."

“You told me,” hissed the politician to the scientist in charge, “to ask it something theoretical.  “What would happen if Atlantis hadn’t fallen?” seemed theoretical enough to me!”

“I agree, Minister,” the Director of the Institute replied.  “I was expecting a few minutes of processing and a printout of predictions, not this…”  He glanced over at the new arrivals.  “As they are representatives of foreign governments, isn’t this a diplomatic matter?”

“Probably.  In fact, I’m certain of it, but I don’t know how I’m going to tell the Foreign Minister that he and his Department have to talk to a bunch of people whose countries don’t exist in our world and who were abducted by your machine.”

The three men who were the focal point of the room had nothing in common except that they had been plucked from their normal lives a few moments ago and deposited by unknown means in this strange place.  They certainly didn’t share a language.  One of them had already classified everyone in the room, besides himself, as a barbarian.  The shortest, darkest one was thinking in terms of trade agreements because all these strangers obviously made things, things were goods and goods meant trade.  The biggest one, the blond, found it interesting that no-one in a uniform was in evidence, yet, as he surveyed the room, checking the exits.

One of the cluster of students, brought in to provide a suitable backdrop for the Minister’s photo opportunity looked at the refreshment table, the unexpected arrivals and back again.  “Right,” she said firmly, “anybody else here work hospitality to pay the bills?  I figure offering these people food and drink is a good place to start.”

Ten minutes later when she offered the Minister and the Director coffee from her tray the Director asked, “Miss Coussens, forgive me, but what are you doing?”

“Offering hospitality, sir, and finding out more about our new arrivals,” she added milk to his coffee for him.  “They all know what coffee is and they’ll eat the chicken, turkey and vegetarian wraps.  Oh, and I think the big, blond one asked if there was any beer.”

Land Release

I wrote this to aldersprig's fifth prompt "Urban homesteading."

“You get four blocks per family,” said the government land agent.  “You have to clear them yourself and we can’t guarantee what is or isn’t under the ground but all the old utilities have been turned off.  Anything you can salvage in the way of building materials or valuables is yours but it is possible you might find you have squatters on your parcel.  If that’s the case, come to us to deal with them and don’t try to be a hero yourself.”

A hand went up in the back of the room.  “I heard an old-rights group was trying to get an injunction to stop this distribution going ahead.  Is there any truth in that?”

“There are a number of cases of that nature ongoing at the moment, but none which impact upon this land release,” averred the land agent.  “Additionally all parcels in this distribution come with certification that the soil does not breach Schedule 3 standards for food production or human residence.”

Another hand went up, this one from the middle of the front row.  “Has the release area been surveyed for survivalist bunkers?”  The questioner was a lean, sun browned man in his thirties.  “We’ve all read about the problems they had in Armidale when those crazies came out of the ground.”

“Noting that some of the most determined of these groups built their bunkers so that they were hard to detect,” hedged the land agent, “the release area and its surrounds have been surveyed extensively for such things and no bunkers have been detected.  Again, if you have problems of this type, withdraw and allow the authorities to deal with the people involved.  Don’t get into a push and shove with them, in the main bunkered survivalists have an overwhelming sense of entitlement and don’t seem to be able to believe that the rule of law could have survived the events that drove their groups underground.  Assume they will shoot to kill and get out.”  He looked around the room.  “If there are no more questions, we’ll get on with the distribution ballot.”

And so, after the collapse of civilization as we know it, suburbia was recolonised.