Jeremiah leaned into Ella as the frenzy continued. “Let’s go, there is something you need to see.” The pair slipped through the crowd, exiting the courtyard before navigating the maze and leaving the fortress altogether through a low point in the wall near the rear of the fortress. Jeremiah led Ella to the south side of the outer ring of the fortress, where a large tarp covered something of considerable size. It stood at least eight feet tall and was boxy in shape. A long, dark green, hollow rod extended from under the tarp. Other than that, Ella could see no other details of this monstrosity aptly named the Beast.
The fortress wall behind her had six snipers, an unusually large number for guarding a non-gated section. Jeremiah had a small group of his own campers keeping guard as well. He first gave them a signal and then a verbal command. “Reveal the Beast!” he boomed and the cover was removed. Some strange vehicle sat before her, the likes of which she had never laid eyes on before now.
She had seen different cars, trucks, and buses. Vehicles of all shapes and sizes formed the walls of this fortress she called home. She had seen them littered around Glass City, or the burned out shells of them anyway. But she’d seen nothing like this, none as large or peculiar. It was twice as wide as any other vehicle. Also strange was the lack of wheels. Instead, heavy metal treads replaced them on the underside. The long rod jutting from the top half was thick but hollow. Large rivets held down sheets of metal on the squared frame. Several black panels adorned the rear end and had wires leading into the vehicle. She had no idea what this thing was or how it operated, but it made a small part of her happy.
“Would Elder Storm care for a demonstration?” asked Jeremiah.
“Well that depends, what can it do?” she asked as she eyeballed the monstrosity called the Beast.
“It goes boom,” was his simple, yet very apt, reply.
Chapter 13 (Jacob Niles)
Doyle was the third person to tell him to ‘stay safe’, joining the Med Tech and Drew from Maintenance. As he lay in bed, Jacob attempted to connect the dots. Maintenance is part of Engineering, so a message could have been delivered by any number of people. But how? It was possible that Doyle knew a lot more than he was letting on. But Jacob couldn’t make the connection with the other two or what, if anything, they knew.
Was it a secret message? Some sort of slogan? Or a hint so that I would know who was on our team? A way to let me know I was being watched? One false move and I could be gone.
It was a lot to process and the stakes could not be any bigger. Trusting the wrong person could be fatal. For all he knew, trusting the right person could deliver the same fate. Jacob sorted through it all the best he could, but it made his head want to explode.
If they were against him, he would not be long for this place. Even if some network existed and they were all helping him, it did not seem to have helped Jasper or his father. Jacob felt the winks, nods, and facial expressions he received were clues. Clues that he had the support of others, that there was something secret, something covert that worked to fight the deception and fraudulence pervasive throughout the ‘Haus.
His suspicions of Engineering as the villains were lessened, but he still could not trust them fully. He had worked there so long, and couldn’t figure out why had he not been brought into the underground circle sooner, if one did indeed exist, especially given the circumstances of his father’s death. The circle had to be small, but if Doyle, a man of such great power, was in it, then who else? And how did he keep it a secret from everyone else? Drew appeared to be working with Doyle, but the Med Tech was a complete wild card.
Engineering may have some in the circle, but what of the other major departments, or the subgroups in each of the departments? The questions continued to roll around his head. Jacob was not sure if he could trust anyone in the smaller sects, or how large the net of this underground society stretched. He decided to keep his guard up until he heard the magic words, but until then, he would operate under the assumption that everyone was involved in Jasper’s and his father’s death. As soon as he thought he had it figured out, he mind would flip and he would become suspicious all over again. Jacob’s mind was consumed by the possibilities of grand conspiracies, just like his father. He could not stop it, but he also believed perhaps that all of this was in his head. Paranoia is a motherfucker.
Sleep took him eventually, though it did not free his tortured mind from the thoughts that haunted him. Jacob shuffled into his kitchenette and recovered his unfinished meal from the prior night. After finishing his rations, he bundled the refuse and prepped it for Recycling. He closed the lid on the return hatch and heard the familiar sucking sound as the pod was taken away. Within minutes, the returns would be accepted and processed, the gredits added quietly to his EPC. One of the many processes he, along with most of the citizens of the ‘Haus, knew nothing about, but had to rely on for their way of life to succeed.
Jacob hopped a pod for five gredits to the nearest bank of elevators, which he took to Zone 15. After having his bag checked, he carried it to the reservation desk in the middle of the spacious zone and rang the buzzer. The hospitality level, which consisted of bars, restaurants, and various forms of entertainment, was mostly empty, matching the world outside the walls of the ‘Haus. He rang the buzzer again.
A disc in the floor opened. The empty, cylindrical tube behind the desk was filled by a small, occupied elevator. A man stepped out and walked to the desk, “May I help you?”
“Yes, one ticket to Newer Orleans, please.” He was ecstatic to finally be taking another trip and the excitement was evident in his voice. He wanted to see the place where his father was killed, the exact annex. He wanted to see what his father had seen, perhaps even what caused him to be killed. What better place to be than where it all occurred.
Jacob knew expansion had continued, and that any evidence of his death would have been lost to time, covered up, or destroyed. But he also knew there was something in the Newer Orleans Greenhaus. Jacob wasn’t going to learn any new information sitting here in New St. Louis as he had done for so many years. He gazed upon every passerby with his newfound suspicious eyes, wondering if they were on his team, or against it, or on the team of the ignorant and indifferent. His people-watching was interrupted by a question from behind the desk.
“Would you like the Bullet or would you prefer a Beebe?” asked a man in a jet-black Nu-Skin with just a single white stripe on either side of the zipper.
“A Beebe?” he asked. “I’m not familiar with that.” He had been aboard the Bullet, having taken it in his youth, but was not sure about this new mode of transportation. Even the man behind the counter caught a suspicious stare from Jacob. He eyed him up and down, as if doing so would reveal some information about this man’s affiliation within the ‘Haus.
“A Beebe is our single occupant pod, much slower, but 5000 credits cheaper. Take a look,” the man explained as he pointed behind Jacob to the Newer Orleans departure center. His face was long, and he had a slender build on a tall frame. He spoke eloquently when he described the Beebe, in a voice Jacob guessed was not his natural tone, but one affected to project professionalism. Speaking in this higher frequency was a common trait for those that worked in Hospitality.
“Why is it so much cheaper? And how much longer does it take?” Jacob asked.
“The Bullet will get you there in a little under three hours, sir. The Beebe takes about six,” the man continued. “As for the cost, well, the Beebe is cheaper for the same reason anything is cheaper, because it uses less energy. The Bullet carries more people, but generating the necessary speed to carry that much weight requires quite a bit of power.” With a laugh, the man added, “I can see you don’t travel much.”
“That much is true,” Jacob laughed back. “This is only my second trip. The first was many years ago, as a child. Much has changed in this Zone. I last visited here after finishing school over a decade ago.” Jacob looked around, reading the yellow block lettering labeling the
terminals scattered throughout the zone.
“Ah, well then that explains it,” replied the Hospitality agent. “The Beebe is rather new, a couple years or so. I highly recommend it.”
“I will trust your recommendation and try the Beebe,” Jacob said.
“Great, let me pull that right up for you.” He typed something, then hit a few buttons behind the counter and stroked his pencil thin mustache as he waited for the results. “It looks like the next one doesn’t leave until tonight, since several of the chutes are offline for repair. But don’t worry; it will be worth the wait. The slower speed allows you to see so much more. The ride is more comfortable and you are all by yourself. Most travelers love the solitude.”
“See so much more?” Jacob incredulously asked. “What is there to see besides extended wasteland? The world outside is dead, everybody knows that. Sounds like I’m not the only one who doesn’t get out much,” chuckled Jacob.
“Oh but that is where you are wrong, young man. I get out very often and I have seen a lot.” The higher frequency with which he spoke was gone, replaced by what Jacob imagined was his more natural voice. It was not unfriendly by any means, but the ‘hospitality voice’ vanished. The way the man spoke to him now was the way a teacher speaks to a pupil. His manner hinted at his superiority on the subject, a tone laden with matter-of-fact-ness. The man continued, “There is much to see, if one only knows where to look.” Then he held up the scanner wand and ran it over Jacob’s arm, up to his elbow, until it beeped and Jacob’s information popped onto the man’s screen, indicating the ticket had loaded onto his EPC in exchange for the gredits. “Ah, Jacob Niles. It’s great to finally meet you. Doyle said you’d be stopping by. When you arrive in Newer Orleans, ask for a man named Cole at the central hospitality desk there. He will help you with whatever accommodations you need,” the man said, back in his ‘hospitality voice’. “Tell him Karl sent you.”
“Sounds great, Karl; will do, thanks,” replied Jacob.
“Hey Jacob,” Karl waited just a short moment before finishing, “Have a great trip and you stay safe out there,” and then gave him the slightest wink, indicating that he, too, was on team Jacob.
Chapter 14 (Ella Storm)
After seeing the Beast’s display of power, Ella now understood how the seemingly impenetrable walls of Glass City were punctured, when even the most high-powered sniper rifles would not leave a scratch. The small and fading part of her, hell-bent on destroying Glass City and those who lived Inside, was happy. The other part of her, the part that took more command of her as time passed, the part that used reason and logic, did not like this development or the options it presented. She immediately began to think of ways to avoid the attack so many would come to expect.
Ella now understood there was a good reason that no camp had successfully invaded a Glass City. She had come to this realization less than a day into her naming as Elder, and she wondered how long it took the Elders that preceded her to reach the same level of awareness. Although she had long felt otherwise, now Ella saw the futility of their resistance, their actions serving only to destroy their own kind rather than their perceived Oppressors. Ella understood why some of her previous Elders delayed attacking, as she was currently formulating excuses in her head to do the same. So much had changed in a week’s time: A through-the-glass meeting with Stranger Friend, her Elders slaughtered, their loyalists, including her, eliminating those responsible for the coup, and finally Ella being picked as Elder. That decision had put the lives of so many in her hands, as well as a bulls-eye across her chest for any that sought her new power.
Their movement was a lost cause, and all she had ever believed in and wanted to do in her life now seemed pointless. The cycle of violence continued among the Masked, camps attacking each other because, she was sure, they all saw the same hopelessness in attacking the Glass Cities.
A large group from within the fortress stopped what they were doing and congregated along the exterior wall nearest the Beast. The ringing in Ella’s ears from the loud blast subsided somewhat as they approached the rubble. The ordinance had torn a massive hole in the side of an empty van before exploding, leaving a wide radius of shrapnel and a huge crater in the ground.
“It goes boom, alright,” she loudly proclaimed, her ears stills ringing. The van had been obliterated. The crater was eight feet wide, and two feet deep in the center.
“The two rounds we fired at the Glass City to the south shattered glass and bent steel like nothing I ever saw,” Jeremiah explained. His stare went somewhere distant every time he recanted the story. “We retreated to our camp when the Rangers pursued. We held them off just fine. The plan was to return, to attack again. ‘Cept then so many of those white suits came at us, even after we fired two rounds from the Beast into their formations. We weren’t the only ones surprised. The Rangers turned their weapons on them and the two factions battled, giving us an opening, so we ran. Some stayed to fight, but they couldn’t have had much success since they were outnumbered 10-1.”
“Hmmm,” said Ella. “I have no knowledge of any white-clad soldiers at this Glass City. And the Rangers here never come in search of Masked camps around these parts. They only patrol the area immediately around their city every three days. I walked to the glass and was face-to-face with a worker. He didn’t even report me. In fact, he created a diversion to help me get away.”
“Well, folks might be different down south, I dunno, but they killed scores of our people. And I bet the hole we made is already fixed, making the whole thing pretty pointless. We accomplished nothing,” Jeremiah added.
Ella could tell by his defeated tone that he, too, felt what she felt. The hopelessness was not just because of their dire living circumstances, short life spans, and widespread maladies, but also included their cause. It was why Jeremiah didn’t want the responsibility of leading a camp. It was also why she was having second thoughts regarding her own status as Elder, feeling the risks now outweighed any potential reward. I’m wearing a bulls-eye and for what?
There was no telling what would become of the camp if she resigned or left. Plus, from everyone in all of the camps, she had been the one picked, and that meant something. She felt a duty to those who chose her and couldn’t quit however badly she wanted to right now. If the Masked continued with futile attacks, marching generations on end to their deaths, they would accomplish nothing. Another camp would eventually form and attempt the same, only to be defeated by those behind the glass.
Ella had a solution, a way to beat those on the Inside, without risking the lives of so many Masked. Gain allies on the Inside. But that was a task just as hopeless. They had no way to possibly tempt or corrupt any on the Inside, no access to such a connection. She was left with, trying to think of new ways to avoid a battle.
“Well, Jeremiah, I am sure the cities are all the same. And the same thing will happen here if we don’t plan properly. As eager as everyone is to move forward with the attack, I think it’s best to get everyone rested up and feeling better,” Ella explained, as she surveyed the damage to the van up close. Bits of it were strewn over a wide distance, the radius of shrapnel spread over a hundred square yards. She switched topics, totally in awe of its power and quipped, “If we had five of these, we could bring down the entire city.”
Jeremiah responded, “There are many more vehicles similar to the Beast at a compound in the wasteland. We passed them a day and a half before reaching the ruins of the city with the steel arch. It appears they run on a liquid fuel. At least, that was Swifty’s best guess. The Beast runs mainly on the air we think, though the black panels in the back are wired to something. That could be what runs it, too.”
“Liquid fuel, huh?” Ella asked. “We have some, not much, and it might not be the right kind. It’s liquid and burns real easy though. We have access to plenty of fuel tanks up and down the river, but we have no use for it right now. All these vehicles need parts we can’t find, and even if we could, there’s no way o
f knowing if we could fix them anyway,” explained Ella. “We use the fuel to start fires to boil water.”
“Swifty is pretty handy with a wrench. He got the Beast working and might be able to do the same for some of these broken-down vehicles. I could have him take a look at them,” Jeremiah offered.
“Send for him,” responded Ella. “And send for someone who remembers where those other vehicles are as well. We could send them with some of my people that know where the fuel is located. If it’s the right stuff, they could bring a few back.”
The tanks were empty, long ago drained of this precious fuel, but it would buy her a few days at least, while she came up with a legitimate reason not to attack. The Rangers had never gone in search of the fortress, so Ella knew they were safe.
“After we send them out, we have a mission of our own,” Ella continued. “There is something I need to show you.”
The duo returned to the Beast and helped with the tarp as smoke rose from the barrel. Ella secretly wanted to disable this monstrosity, to kill the hope it would give her camp for a successful attack. Something so powerful would give the warmongers in her camp reason to drool.
A group arrived, a mixture of those from Jeremiah’s camp and Ella’s. “Zac, take the river south and search for fuel, we need it for…”
“The tanks are dry, have been for a while,” he responded.
Ella shot Zac a dirty look. “No matter, check the other tanks then until you find some. Take Swifty and his men with your group. They know where more of these are,” she said as she patted the Beast. “Take as long as you need. No hurry, but bring back as many as you can, assuming you find enough fuel.” Which I know you won’t. She laughed on the inside.
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