Hosein Kouros-Mehr - Extinction 6

Heads turn and the cabinet members steal glances at one another.

Manos continues. “The third part of my plan is to extract fuel directly from the trees. One of GoldRock’s companies, Gravitas, has patented a method to transform bark into gas. A single pine will power a missile to destroy a target five hundred miles away. I propose that the government subsidizes Gravitas to harvest the hydrocarbons locked away in Alaska.”

The room erupts in conversation.

The Commerce Secretary shouts above the noise. “You want to destroy America’s last wild refuge?”

Manos waves his hands. “That’s not correct, sir. We will not damage the Reserve. This one-time collection significantly increases our energy supply. The trees will grow back in a couple of decades.”

The Defense Secretary pounds the table. “I like it! It’s a sacrifice worth making for the War.”

“This is ridiculous,” the Commerce Secretary shouts. “It’s a scheme to make GoldRock rich!”

Manos defends himself. “We support companies with cutting-edge technology capable of disrupting industries. Gravitas is a true innovator—”

“What kind of subsidies are we talking about?” the President asks.

Manos clears his throat. “For $200B, we can harvest the entire forest.”

“And how much fuel will you extract?”

“About $1 trillion worth, enough to lower prices by 5-10%.”

The room grows silent.

“I like it,” the President says. “This is a bold plan. If you can cut oil prices by ten percent, you have the job.”

“Thank you, sir, you won’t be disappointed.”

A staffer walks into the room and whispers in the President’s ear. He turns and speaks to his Defense Secretary for a few minutes. Tension builds.

Gareth gives a thumbs-up and mouths Great job! Manos winks and returns a thank you .

“We have a problem,” the President announces. “The Chinese just launched a wave of cyberattacks. Looks like they’re retaliating against the Information Tariffs. All hands on deck. We’ve got a major situation ahead of us.”

AUSTIN EXITSthe Hyperloop at Hayward station. He unbuttons his collar in the 120ºF heat as thermal waves lift off the cracked pavement. Stepping over an emaciated rat chewing on a plastic bag, he passes an encampment with beggars panhandling for change.

Last time I was in East Bay, Matthew was alive.

Cameras anchored to street signs follow Austin as he heads to the entrance of the BART, a decades-old transit system that still operates in the inland valley. A woman wearing a VR headset barges into him. “Watch where you’re running!” she shouts.

Austin faces her. “You ran into me!”

“Don’t be an asshole.” She flips him off and runs down the street.

What is wrong with these people?

Austin enters the metro gate and heads downstairs to the outbound platform . “Isaac, how will I find Beth in Livermore? It’s an awfully large town.”

“Would you like me to call her?”

“Sure.”

As he descends into the underground station, the air grows hot and muggy. He reaches the terminal and grows woozy in the searing heat. Young panhandlers stuff their hands in his face begging for money.

“Austin, Beth is not answering the call. She is not carrying her device.”

“How the hell will I find her?”

“I don’t know.”

“Give me your money!” someone screams. Austin spots a robbery in progress and quickly darts to the opposite end of the platform. The thief wields a knife and steals someone’s VR headset before running off. Austin cowers behind an electrical box. A train arrives.

“Express line to Livermore now arriving.”

Austin hops into the lead car. He sits next to a middle-aged man wearing a red jumpsuit and headgear. The guy laughs hysterically and rotates his hands in the air as if driving a vehicle.

An ad loads in Austin’s smartglasses. “When you’re in Hayward, visit the OASIS center, home to the world’s largest VR gaming community. First player shooters, role-playing, team deathmatch—OASIS has them all. Join other gamers in online communities to fulfill your wildest fantasies.”

This must be Virtual Reality Land.

Austin turns to find most of the passengers wearing headsets, playing out their lives in alternate realities. People mumble, laugh, and shout to themselves. A man holds out his palms and screams while a girl strokes a virtual pet. Someone behind him yells, “There’s a bus in my lane!”

A half-hour later, Austin arrives in Livermore with a migraine. He exits the train and hits a blistering wave of dry heat. A woman with an ice chest stands at the exit.

“How much for water?” he asks her.

“$1000.”

“For a bottle of water?”

He shakes his head and stretches his soaked collar, wiping his sweaty forehead with it. He leaves the train station just as a police officer chases a group of teenage boys. A burning trash can rolls down the street behind them and explodes a few feet away. Austin jumps and runs.

So this is the East Bay.

“Isaac, call Sara.”

Beth’s assistant answers the phone. “Austin, are you in Livermore?”

“Yes. How do I find Beth?”

“Head over to the riverbed. She’s wearing a blue dress.”

Austin loads a navigation browser and looks for a river on the map. An ad begins and he removes the glasses from his face.

Are you kidding me? I’m sick of these commercials.

He sees a high-heeled woman standing on the corner and approaches her. “Can you tell me where the river is?”

“I’ll take care of you for $1000.”

He hands her a $100 bill. “Where’s the river?”

She takes the money and points in a direction. “Ten-minute walk that way.”

Austin heads north and spots a boy playing in the dirt, his face and hair covered in filth. Someone hollers through a screen door. “Matthew, you better not be playing in mud again!”

Matthew?

Tears flood Austin’s eyes.

I miss my boy. Olivia, I wish I could hear your voice.

He gives a dollar to the youngster and continues walking north. Minutes later, he sees an estuary stretching to the horizon. A shantytown runs along the bank, its homes constructed with spare metal and old aircraft parts. He bumps into a line of people waiting to fill empty plastic bottles at a pump station.

Guess there’s no running water here.

Austin sees a woman with a blue garment and approaches her. “Beth?” he whispers. She turns around and shakes her finger in his face. “I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

A frustrating hour passes and there’s no sign of his boss, so he takes off his shoes and walks into the river to cool off. Plastic bottles and debris float downstream. He notices sludge in the water and turns to leave just as a soccer ball slams into his face, jerking him back and casting him into the creek.

A boy appears over the bank. “Give me my ball back!”

Austin rubs his head. “You stupid kid!”

“Get it, old man!”

He gathers himself and reaches for the ball, walking ashore towards the youngster. “You need to learn some manners, little guy.” As he scolds the teenager, he notices something on his arm. “Is that a Google band on your wrist?”

The boy spits in the air. “Shut up, old man.”

Austin takes out $100. “Do you want this?”

“Give it to me!”

“Who gave you that wristband?”

“Some lady.”

He approaches the teen and waves the bill. “Where is she?”

The boy points. “She’s over there.” He punches Austin in the gut and grabs the money and soccer ball from him.