Consequences

The year was 2030. A slew of laboratory raised viruses had spread throughout the world, decimating the population. Billions had succumbed to the various illnesses, leaving the world in shambles. The world economy fell like dominos as fewer and fewer people were available to work. Businesses went bankrupt, airlines collapsed, the stock market crashed, banks shut their doors, hospitals closed down and the infrastructure of utilities and services crumbled. One by one world governments threw up their hands in surrender, leaving humanity to anarchy. Mass food production ground to a halt, leading to the starvation of millions. Gangs of youth, trained from early childhood on video games based on a ‘shoot first, think later’ reaction, roamed the streets of the cities in search of food, adding to the death count by killing anyone who stood in their way, including each other. Those who were able to survive, barricaded themselves in their homes or fled to the country, in an attempt to protect themselves. In time, the cities stood empty, a silent testament to how far humanity had once advanced, while small groups of citizens began to join together in the rural areas, supporting each other, as they dealt with the consequences of the death of the world they had known.

There wasn’t much room to move around. Trevor, Pat and Samuel stood crowded together behind the counter staring at the bikini clad blonde lounging on the beach, while Paul and Jim leaned forward across it to get a better view. However, it wasn’t the woman they were staring at. It was the white box across her torso, in which a cursor blinked off and on beside the word password.

“It can’t be that difficult,” said Pat.” After all, it has to be something that everyone who worked here knew by heart.” He reached forward and began typing Husky on the keyboard. The screen blinked as a response appeared. “The password you entered is incorrect. Please ensure that you enter the correct password for this location.”

“Nope. Has anybody else got an idea?”

“You better not try that too many times,” said Paul. “It might lock us out completely.”

“Perhaps it’s posted somewhere, especially if it is changed regularly.” Jim began looking closely at the bulletin board behind the other men’s heads while the men behind the counter bent over to peer into the shelves below. In a back room the generator rumbled, feeding the service station with electricity.

It had been such a simple plan. When Jim realized that the gas in the fuel tank on the farm was low, the decision was made that they would all meet at the service station with a generator, turn on the power and fill up their trucks from the pumps. They had become very proficient using generators to feed the electrical systems in the buildings that they were living or working in, so it shouldn’t be a problem. It didn’t appear so at first, as the lights came on and the coolers began to purr once the generator was going. But it didn’t have any effect on the pumps themselves. They stood silent and unresponsive, in spite of the electricity that was flowing.

Their first thought was that there must a switch somewhere in the building that turned them on. They had diligently searched, flipping every switch they found, to no avail. Samuel shook his head in frustration. “You would think that one of us would have actually worked in a gas station at one point or another in our lives, considering how necessary they are to our vehicles. There’s got to be an answer here, somewhere.”

It was Trevor who suggested that perhaps they should try the computer. So much of the world had been run by computers in the past. Perhaps there was a program on it, which would turn on the pumps. But now they had no way of knowing. They were stymied by a lack of a password.

Jim turned and headed to the door to survey the scene before him. Their trucks were lined up at the pumps waiting to be filled. In each box were several jerry cans used to refill the generators. No gas, no generators, which meant that they would have to go back to living without electricity.

It wasn’t as if there wasn’t gas available. There were huge storage tanks under every one of the service stations in the city. Huge storage tanks that were filled up regularly, which meant that they were likely close to full when the electricity first went off. The problem was not a lack of gas, but how to access it.

He turned back into the service station and said “we may as well try every password we can think of. If it locks us out, so what. It won’t change anything. We will just have to find another answer.”

Pat turned back to the computer and typed 54978. ”It’s the number on these receipts” he explained, pointing to the pile at left of the computer. “It’s on all of them, so it must mean something.”

The screen blinked again as the response appeared. “The password you entered is incorrect. Please ensure that you enter the correct password for this location.”

“Hmmm, for this location, perhaps it’s the address. Richmond Avenue, maybe. What’s the address here?” asked Paul.

Pat picked up one of the receipts and read “276.”

"Don’t passwords need all these different things like numbers and capital letters and so on? Try 276Richmond” suggested Trevor.

Pat turned back to the computer to type this in. The screen blinked again as a new response appeared. “Reset your password. Your account has been compromised.”

“Look at that. We can just create our own password.” Pat clicked on the button beside the message. A new screen opened with a number of white boxes on it. “User name? Anybody got any idea.”

“Isn’t it usually one’s e-mail address.”

“Right!” Pat responded “and it’s right here on the receipt. [email protected]. So what are we going to use for a password?”

“Weneedgasnow1” suggested Samuel. The one is in case we need a number.

“Sounds good.” Pat resumed typing and then clicked on the button that said “submit.”

A new message appeared on the screen. “Please check your e-mail to have this password installed.” Pat’s shoulders fell as he read those words. “Shucks. No electricity, no internet, no e-mail will be showing up here. We’re out of luck.”

Jim turned back to looking out the door at the gas pumps. “The crazy thing about this is that the things we put into place to protect ourselves as individuals or companies from other humans in the past are the very walls that are stopping us from succeeding now when we are trying to work together. We claimed we were so intelligent, so civilized. But no, we were a mess.” He gave a big sigh and began to walk towards the pumps. “Put your thinking caps on, boys. We’re going to have to find another solution.”