Nicholas Smith - The Biomass Revolution

Riya quickly made his way through the white courtyard in front of the headquarters. He saluted a marble statue engraved with every fallen Knight’s name. The monument was beautiful, with a waterfall running down the names and collecting in a pool below, where civilians and Knights would leave flower petals, notes, and other tributes. Saluting this monument was a tradition that Riya followed since the day he became a Knight.

Riya dropped his salute and continued through the courtyard, nodding at two Knights guarding the front door.

The powerful aroma of bleach immediately entered his nostrils as he walked through the front doors. Not even the air filtration system built into his helmet could remove the smell. It was simply too potent. He didn’t mind, though; the glistening stone walls of the lobby were an acceptable trade off.

The interior of the building was not much different than the exterior. It wasn’t built for its aesthetically pleasing features. The surface and walls of the lobby were almost completely bare; no art work, fountains or colorful flower designs would be seen here. A single portrait of Commander Augustus was the only item hanging above the oval stone receptionist’s desk. The ceiling in the lobby extended nine stories high. At the top, the burning flame symbol of Tisaia was stenciled into the stone.

Riya hustled through the lobby, nodding at another two guards manning the front desk. He had been a Knight since Tisaia’s conception, and served her loyally ever since. Well, for the most part, but even he had his limits. His main grievance was the immigration situation, which seemed to be getting progressively worse. There were just too many people who had survived the Biomass Wars living in the Wastelands. He had voiced his opinion carefully on this matter in the past, butting heads with Sonii, the Governor’s Chief of Staff. This was more than likely the reason he was not consulted on the reopening of Project 1200.

Riya opened a door at the end of the lobby, slowly making his way down to the gymnasium. He had seen the stockpiles of food and Biomass, and he knew better than any politician there was plenty available to help the immigrants and those outside the walls. Sure, housing would be a problem, but the immigrant camps would be a perfect place to put refugees.

When Riya was first out of the academy, he was assigned to one of the early immigrant camps. It was there his empathy began, and the feelings had only grown over time.

He shook his head. Politics gave him a headache, and had since he was in the academy. At the bottom of the stairwell two more Knights stood guarding the double doors. As he approached they swung the doors open, the bright white glare of the ceiling lights blinding him momentarily.

The gymnasium was the only place large enough for all of the Knights assigned to Project 1200 to meet. At least that’s what Commander Augustus and Supreme Knight Morr had decided. Neither of these men was present, having felt their expectations for the mission to be clear. They left the team leads in charge of handing out assignments to the Knights.

Riya removed his helmet and shuffled through the crowd of Knights, fidgeting with his sword so he didn’t run into anyone. In the corner of the room he saw Lupa, one of his best friends and closest squad mates. Lupa was also middle aged, with far less hair. His face was lightly bearded and defined by a large nose that had been broken on several occasions. This resulted in much teasing, his fellow Knights claiming Lupa was an immigrant himself.

Riya nudged Lupa in his armored shoulder. “Where do you think they’re going to send us?” he said, with a grin.

Lupa shrugged. “Wherever it’s, it probably isn’t going to be good. Honestly though, I’d rather get assigned to the tunnels. They’ve always fascinated me.”

Riya laughed. “These tunnels are not the fascinating type, my friend. Whatever I tell you will not prepare you for what we see if we’re assigned there.”

“Knights, please line up by squad,” Jeriche yelled over the crowd. “I’ll keep this really short. As you already know, Commander Augustus has reopened Project 1200 to be led by the Dark Horses. Most of you will be assigned to the tunnels, while a few teams will be attached to Knight squads protecting the trolley stations. Expect to be deployed in phases during the next twenty-four hours. Your team leaders have your assignments,” Jeriche concluded, heading towards the exit. Commotion broke out in the silent gymnasium as Knights searched for their teams.

Riya watched Albri, the commander of his unit, walk through the crowd. Within seconds Albri was standing in front of his men.

“We’ve been assigned to a tunnel area under the western wall of Tisaia’s border. We move out in four hours, so I’d suggest you do a gear check, load up on ammo and catch an hour or so of sleep. Let’s get moving guys,” Albri said in his typical lighthearted voice.

He had hardly finished giving his orders before he was moving, leading the squad out of the gymnasium. As they made their way into the stairs leading to the surface, Lupa turned to Riya.

“Are the tunnels really that bad?” he asked, scratching his receding hairline.

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“That’s what I was afraid you were going to say,” Lupa replied.

Time: Unknown

Location: Unknown

A soft rain peppered Spurious’ leather coat, the drips of water forming small rivers on their paths down the black leather. Spurious wiped the rain off his forehead, brushing his hair out of his eyes. He rested his back against a stone bench beneath the feet of the stone statue of Koliam, the first Knight of Tisaia.

The rain didn’t bother him; in fact, he liked the refreshing feeling of it as each drop touched his skin. He looked about the courtyard; admiring the statues of other Knights and the massive stone statue of Governor Lunia, the first Governor of Tisaia and the man after whom the capitol city had been named following his assassination.

The courtyard was truly a royal place, and to many, a holy place. It was only the second time Spurious had seen it. He could still remember the first time like it was yesterday. The memory of the tour guide leading his graduating class through the gardens many years ago remained engrained in his mind. Spurious could still feel the excitement pumping through his veins as he watched a squad of Royal Knights fire a volley of shots in awe. It was a tradition started by Governor Lunia in order to celebrate the University of Tisaia’s graduates. Each year, Spurious could hear the bark of the Knights’ rifles from his office.

The rain began to pick up and collect in puddles on the stone courtyard. Lightning illuminated the oblique skeletons of the skyscrapers in the distance. Spurious ignored them, his eyes fixated on a man dressed in a white robe, slugging down the path of carefully cut stones towards him.

Something was not right. Spurious surveyed the rest of the courtyard. It was completely empty. There wasn't even a Royal Knight guarding the sacred place.

Another streak of yellow lightning lit up the garden of stone with a crack of thunder following close behind. The man was slowly creeping towards Spurious, undeterred by the brewing storm. He tried not to move, to remain completely silent, but the chilled night gave him away as his breath steamed into the gray sky.

The stranger continued slugging forward, his head tucked into his collarbones, staring intently at the stone pathway. In seconds, the man would be at his feet, but for some reason Spurious wasn’t frightened by the man’s presence. In an odd sense he was relieved. The empty courtyard was eerie and he still couldn’t remember how he got there.