Does three maps make it a series?
Part I.
Part II.
October 27th 2112.
San Francisco (Acting US Capitol).
11:22 AM.
“…and as you can see on the map accompanying the State Department’s report on the situation in Europe,” Amanda Lockheart said. “The proximity between the Holy Roman Republic and the Al-Maharas Caliphate in the Strait of Sicily has seen that particular oceanic body militarized to the point that the Royal Navy has not felt comfortable pushing into the Eastern Mediterranean to find out what, if any, forms of civilization exist beyond that point. It is presumed that like much of the known world it is devoid of anything beyond the level of city states that have become common in the irradiated wastes.”
“Do we know how the Caliphate’s military capacity compares to Rome or the Neo-Vikings?” President Carter asked.
“Unfortunately we still do not have a clear picture on that Mr. President, but we presume that like the Neo-Vikings and Rome they are suffering from a slow decline in quality of material as existing stocks are depleted. The United Kingdom of Great Britain, Northern Ireland, and Iceland has only been as successful as it has due to their investment in undersea mining between the dissolution of the European Commonwealth and the Great War.”
The President leaned back from his desk and placed his hands behind his head. “Just like the Enclave, right?”
“Yes, but on a much larger scale. According to what spies we’ve been able to slip in the Enclave is more content to scavenge from the ruins of the territory they control around the Okhotsk and Japanese seas then underneath them. In contrast the United Kingdom has managed, by their own account, to rebuild a standard of living comparable to what they had in the 1970’s.”
“And Ireland?”
“We’re less sure, but Britain seems keen to keep the country home to the nicer of the two Papacies stable.”
“You know, it still boggles my mind that the Sicilian Mafia thought it would be a good idea to make one of their own Pope.”
“That is a gross simplification of the situation Mr. President and you know it.”
“That’s how it is going to be viewed by your average-“ The intercom on the president’s desk made the infernal buzzing noise it always did when his secretary felt it necessary to tell him something. Leaning forward he pressed the button and said, “Yes Margret?”
“Defense secretary Brunner is here to see you,” her voice sounded tinny as the intercom always made it. “He says it is urgent.”
The President lifted his finger off the button and looked at Amanda. “Do you have any idea what Ol’ Gordon wants?” He asked, but the Secretary of State only shook her head. Depressing the button again he said “Send him in.”
When most people spoke of a man of former General Gordon T. Bruner size they would have thought of a mountain, an elephant, or a super mutant, but for some reason (possibly it was the mustache) President Carter, Secretary of State Lockheart, and most everyone who laid eyes on the Secretary of Defense thought of a humanized walrus. As his bulk took the place of the formerly closed door leading to the President’s office Carter stood up to greet him but the General waved him down and continued into the office. “Mr. President,” Bruner said while laying a think folder on his desk. “You need to see this report on the old Cheyenne Mountain complex.”
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President Carter folded his reading glasses and set them gently on his desk. “And you say the facility is completely under our control again?”
“Yes Mr. President,” Bruner intoned. “Although platoon 107 will need to be substantially reinforced, and we’ll need a secure land connection before it can be returned to operation.”
“And how long do we expect that to take?”
“If we divert resources from Arizona and Montana I estimate we could have the area secure enough to begin a full restoration of the facilities by twenty one fourteen.”
“And do we know enough about these facilities to estimate when they could be used to restore our control over the rest of the country?” Lockheart asked?
“No madam Secretary,” the former general replied. “The army has yet to conduct a thorough evaluation of what would be required to bring the complex back on line, especially with the damage sustained in shutting down the rouge computer that was installed before the war.”
The president looked Bruner in the eye, “If we forced you to randomly pick a date?”
“In twenty twenty five it may be possible for a president to be sworn in at the foot of the capitol in Washington D. C.”
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June 17th 2118.
Americana, state of Eisenhower (Kamchatka Peninsula), Enclave Capitol.
2:03 PM.
“And why the fuck are we only learning about this now!” Enclave President Archibald Flynn roared.
“M-m-mr. President,” stammered the Secretary of State. “It would be impossible for us to know everything the rebel govern-“
Flynn threw a binder at the terrified cabinet member, “That isn’t an F-ing excuse you little S.O.B! Thanks to you and the rest of the government there is now nothing we can do to stop them from controlling all of our North American territory! Between the matter replicators which we still haven’t managed to recreate and this, you and your departments have probably ensured our legitimate government won’t control all of
our country for another hundred years!”
“Had president Richardson just acted sooner-“ The CIA chief began.
“Out!” The President roared. “All you miserable, worthless pieces of shit out!”
The Enclave cabinet scurried out of the room and left the president to fume. Many of them thinking it might be time for the Vice President to come to power.
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October 8th 2120.
Washington D.C.
1:05 P.M.
It would never cease to amaze President Juliet McGuire just how good the country had become at taking structures that had been left to become derelicts after the war and bringing them back to life. True the United States had been at it for over half her life time, but as she looked around at what had been accomplished in the country’s capitol since the military had taken control of it in 2118 it was near the eighth wonder of the world to see the city slowly coming back to life. While scouting parties had been sent to the city since the last years of the 21st century it had been impossible to document just how much the city had degraded and continued to degrade in the absence of any organized government maintaining it. But now the lights were back on, the capitol building was being restored; a replica of the White House was being constructed, and countless other projects were showing the once great city to be like the might phoenix of the ancient myths.
The President’s wonder was momentarily broken as the armored vehicle she was traveling in found a pot hole and just how far the city and the country had to go was brought back to the front of her mind. Almost forty three years after the war and Southwest remained the only commonwealth fully reintegrated. Only eleven states had civilian government, and although thanks to the robots from the Cheyenne Mountain complex all of the continental United States was back under the authority of the Government there were still so many islands to bring back into the fold. Even Washington wasn’t ready to become the capitol again, and probably wouldn’t be until the interior of the country was more rebuilt.
“You know Jack,” She said to a member of her Secret Service protection. “It’ll be a far better day when we aren’t rebuilding the country anymore and are doing more to rebuild the rest of the world instead.”
“How right you are,” Jack replied…
EDIT: I think it was Mumby who had Britain invade Iceland in one of his fallout things, so credit to him for the idea.