Nicholas Smith - The Biomass Revolution

“That wasn’t a rhetorical question Spurious. Are you really telling me all of these maps are old, and finding a route into the CRK tunnels is going to be next to impossible?” Obi asked.

Spurious studied the maps, trying to fight the drowsiness. “Yeah, these maps are all old as dirt. I mean, some of these tunnels are still there, but some have caved in, been blown up, or filled with storm water,” Spurious said, pausing.

“The tunnels you need access to aren’t on any maps you would ever be able to obtain. The CRK will have made sure of that. Luckily, they’re up here,” Spurious said, pointing at his head.

Obi gritted his teeth. “I was hoping we weren’t going to have to rely on your memory of blueprints, but if that’s all we have, then that’s all we have.”

“Where is the rest of the TDU?” Spurious asked suddenly.

Ajax jumped up and grabbed the back of his chair, swinging him around. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Ajax roared, a large vein in his forehead bulging out.

“Back off Ajax!” Obi yelled. “Yes, Spurious. The men in this room and a few upstairs are the all that remains of the TDU. And that…” Obi hesitated. He pulled himself from the maps and looked Spurious straight in his eyes. “That is why we need you so badly.”

Spurious took an audible breath, still shaking from being lifted into the air by Ajax.

“Right now, there are probably a dozen Justice Committee agents waiting to storm my flat. Lana is dead. My life is over,” Spurious said.

Slowly he raised his head, studying the fear and desperation present in the faces of every soldier. Finally he nodded. “If you promise this plan has a chance of working, I’ll be your guide.”

Obi clapped his hands together. “Yes!” he yelled. “We’re in business again, men!”

Time: 6:05 a.m. February 25, 2071.

Location: Silo. The Wastelands

Spurious had never been a religious man. He was more of a humanist, believing the good in people was more important than anything supernatural. But on the morning of his departure back to Tisaia, he found himself kneeling on the cement floor of the silo.

Spurious had become sick of faith. He had lost patience with it. He had seen too many of his friends die and watched them laid to rest, only to decompose in the ground from which they had come.

Now he had the opportunity to be part of something bigger than himself and to avenge the deaths of Paulo, Lana and his parents. He was going to fight. He would fight to the end. He would create his own destiny.

As the morning sun struggled to peek out from behind the clouds, Squad 19 began gathering their belongings, preparing for the journey across the Wastelands.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, John emerged from the other room. “Well, it sure was nice having guests. Good luck to you all,” he said, yawning.

Obi wasn’t sure if the old man knew the dire situation they were in. He wasn’t sure the man was even sane, living out in The Wastelands by himself, but he appreciated his hospitality nonetheless.

“Thank you for the food and shelter,” Obi said, shaking the rough man’s hand before running to catch up with Spurious.

“Wait up for a second, will you?” Obi asked, following him out of the door.

“I want you to know we’re not the people you have heard about in the paper or at work. In fact, whether you want to believe it or not, we follow the same principles and philosophies your very own parents preached years ago in the infant stages of the TDU,” Obi said, placing his hand on Spurious’ shoulder. “The innocent people who died in attacks during the past decade were never meant to be killed. Our goal has always been to take out the CRK and form a new democratic government. With your help we can finally accomplish this, but I have to ask,” Obi said, stopping to look Spurious in his eyes. “You do realize that this may be a one way trip, right?”

Time: 8:09 a.m. February 25, 2071.

Location: Nuke Valley. The Wastelands

Ajax took a deep breath, watching the cloud of air disappear into the slight wind. He was on point, about a mile ahead of the others to scout. Obi had split the squad up, sending Ran and Nordica to scout the western side of the rock configuration. Tsui and Juliana had stayed at the silo to wait for any other TDU members who were late to the rendezvous, while Obi, Spurious, Creo, Nathar, and the new recruits had fallen back, waiting for word to proceed.

Ajax knelt on top of a worn rock overlooking a small valley, the great walls of Tisaia vaguely visible in the distance. He removed his goggles and wiped a trickle of sweat from his forehead before squinting in the sun. They had reached the border between the rock formations and a crater known as Nuke Valley.

He squinted again to make out the crater in the center of the valley, where decades ago a bomb had blown a depression hundreds of feet deep and thousands of feet wide. The basin around the crater was weathered by years of wind storms. With zero cover and pockets of radiation, Nuke Valley was one of the most dangerous places to cross the Wastelands.

He had made the journey across the crater once, losing a CRK patrol in the cover of night, but it had cost him. Ajax grimaced, recalling the week he spent in the med ward with radiation poisoning, puking his guts out. But the internal damage was nothing compared to the suffering his skin went through. His arms were still covered in scars where boils had plastered his poisoned skin.

Beyond the crater he could make out the skeletons of buildings, dozens of them. All that remained was their metal guts jutting out of the cracked red dirt. He remembered listening to Obi tell stories of the day the bombs fell. Obi had been there, in Chicago, the once beautiful city spanning miles and miles of what were now Wastelands.

Ajax pulled his goggles back over his eyes and covered his face with a black bandana. Obi’s instructions were simple: find a safe route through Nuke Valley.

Since Ajax was the only member of the TDU who survived a trip through the crater, the choice was easy—Obi picked him to lead the way.

The rest of the squad showed up minutes later, the new recruits panting through their dust masks. Obi twisted the cap off his canteen and handed it to the youngest of the men, watching the water drip slowly down his chin. The recruit looked familiar, his frightened brown eyes peering back at him helplessly. It made Obi want to protect him the same way he protected the rest of his squad, but he knew the boy had little chance of survival. Like so many thrown into Squad 19 before him, the life expectancy for the “fillers” was not long and he doubted the boy would last the week.

“What do you think, Ajax?” Obi asked, turning his attention to the valley with his hands on his hips. “Do you remember how you got through last time?”

“It was under the cover of night. All I remember was running, but I’ll find a way, don’t worry.”

“Okay, but I don’t want you turning into a damn glow stick. Make sure you use your radiation detector at all times, you got that?”

“Yes boss.” Ajax said, disappearing over the cliff and making his way carefully down the rocky trail and into the valley below.

Spurious watched him go before resting on one of the rocks, feeling the fuzziness of fatigue setting in. He brought his hand to his face, wiping the dried cracks of blood caked skin from his swollen wounds. A blast of wind battered his face with dust particles, prompting him to claw at his eyes with bloody finger tips. “God damn it!” he yelled.

The other soldiers paid him little attention and continued to survey the area.

“Creo and Nathar, you take up sniping positions over there and there. I want Ajax covered from all angles,” Obi said, pointing at several rock formations.