Story: Colonel Williams, Ch. 1, Pt. II

Society had changed much in the hundred or so years following the Great Collapse, an event that helped define the twenty-first century the way the Great Depression helped define the twentieth. The moral foundation of American society had already partially eroded, and political power had shifted more and more to the globalizers, a small group of “progressive” thinkers who, despite good intentions, took the country away from the progress it had made, weakening the flourishing economy through a series of poorly-constructed trade treaties.
As moral anarchy and economic weakness increased, many people abandoned any semblance of virtue in favor of making money. The money did them little good, though, when the dollar collapsed in value, losing half of its worth overnight. Americans went to bed rich; they woke up the next morning poor. As inflation started to spiral out of control, emergency measures to prevent complete institutional collapse went into place. The measures did little good, though, for the damage had already been done to the global economy. Without the United States to consume as many of their goods and services, multiple nations saw their economies collapse. Even prosperous, developing countries like China and Saudi Arabia experienced horrible downturns. Unemployment soared to record highs globally. Charismatic leaders appeared in many of the nations, promising better times but only proving to be dictators who created better times merely for themselves. Terrorism increased, even in the United States, as angry, out-of-work people took out their frustrations in bombings and sabotage. These actions pushed the teetering global economy over the edge. A second Great Depression began.
Within fifty years of being at its most prosperous, the global economy hung in ruins, a crumbling colossus ready at any second to succumb fully to its own weight. By seventy-five years after the Great Collapse (for so the plunge of the dollar and the resulting anarchy came to be known), a new generation had grown up not knowing anything different. The lessons of history and the stories of more prosperous times became mere legends, repeated by grandfathers to their grandchildren, at least those grandchildren who knew who and where their grandfathers were.
With technology dying and the need for work rising, animal-power and man-power replaced machine-power, especially on the farm. Because of the economic inability to produce gasoline, transportation regressed to horse-drawn vehicles. Likewise, to aid in meeting the need for agricultural labor, Congress passed laws allowing for temporary indentured servitude for those who could not otherwise pay their debts. These indentured servants, though, too often became permanent slaves when the protections written into the law were not enforced. In an environment of moral ambivalence, law enforcement and the courts turned a blind eye to the plight of the people. The country became an oligarchy – power in the hands of a few – with a façade of democracy.
As the economy stuttered along, people unable to pay their debts – sometimes entire families – sold themselves into servitude with the hope of a better life. What they often got, though, was poor treatment, far worse than any that had been seen in the history of the vile institution of slavery. Even after the debts were paid off, many landowners in desperate need of labor found ways to keep their “servants” permanently in debt, working them until they died at an early age. As a result, the demand for new slaves remained constant, and the impoverished society provided ample supply.
So it was that every Tuesday in the town closest to Providence Estate, people sold themselves. For the last four weeks, Colonel Williams had gone into town to observe the market, and each time he had come back in ponderous thought.

“There must be something I can do, Roderick,” Williams said as he handed his supper plates to the butler to clean up. “I can’t let these people keep destroying themselves in this way. But what?”
“Begging your pardon, sir,” the butler countered, “but is there much that you can do? You cannot pay the debts of every person. And you know that the end of servitude would mean impoverishment for us all. In short, sir, leave the matter alone. You, at least, free those servants whom you buy, and often well before their debt is fully paid. Your wife, sir, would be proud.”
Williams face contorted for just a second in a spasm of pain. “Leave Keren out of this, Roderick. You know that she didn’t like the thought of any person bound even for a minute in the horrible shackles of servitude. She’d be just as passionate as I am about doing something. I must do something!”
Roderick paused before replying. Each week, the Colonel’s mood upon returning worsened, and each week, Roderick did what he could to distract the Colonel from his melancholy thoughts. “Well, sir,” the butler said, “if you must do something, be sure not to do something too rash. I would hate to lose an employer as kind as you.”
Williams had to smile at that. Roderick had worked for Williams ever since Williams married his wife twenty years ago. “And I’d hate to lose a butler as trustworthy as you, old friend. Don’t worry. Whatever I do won’t be so reckless as to endanger my estate.”
Getting up from the table, the Colonel returned to his study, sat down at his desk, and proceeded to pray and think well into the night.