Sylvia chuckled at his latest question, and then quickly apologized. “Sorry, I don’t mean to poke fun at your expense all the time. But of all the things you learned today, that’s the best you can come up with?”
“It just seems suspicious to me, that’s all. It takes a lot of materials, not to mention the labor, to dig the tunnels, lay concrete, et cetera,” he said.
“And that is correct, but who places the orders for the materials, and where do the materials come from?” Sylvia asked.
“Engineering places orders to Recycling. They control production and distribution of all supplies,” he answered confidently, still not making the connection.
“Exactly,” Sylvia countered, “So Engineering could say that the sinking project could take a year, and request however much material they needed. If they keep saying the ‘Haus is sinking, who else can say otherwise? They could stay on any job indefinitely.” Sylvia was spelling it all out, but to Jacob it was like she was speaking a foreign language. “Let me ask you a question, Jacob. Are you as efficient as you could be at work? Is the process as streamlined as it could be?”
“There are things we could do better, I suppose,” Jacob answered. “But that’s true of anything. We should all strive to be more efficient.”
“Then why do you think the daily labor quota for certain things seems so low, especially completion of labor intensive projects in Engineering, while other things appear to be so high, like production-based jobs in Food and Bev.”
“I don’t get what you’re asking,” he said.
“Jacob, think really hard about this,” she commanded. “This is a pretty simple concept. If you can’t grasp this, we are in for a long ride. The time it takes to complete a construction job, say the completion of an entire annex, never changes. Even though, as the same people do the same job over and over, they theoretically get faster and improve their efficiency, making fewer mistakes as they repeat the task.”
Jacob was lost. He thought hard and long, receiving no hints from Sylvia. He came up with nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero. Zilch. The more he thought about it, the fewer ideas came to him.
A team of Medics entered and began to take temperatures, draw blood, and gather hair and skin samples for testing. Sylvia and Jacob’s conversation switched to flirtatious small talk.
After testing the samples, the Med Tech pronounced the pair clean. No transfusions would be necessary. Impossible! We left the ‘Haus. Even with the safe suits and the masks, we had exposed skin on the Outside. We breathed the air! I have broken skin.
Jacob believed a mistake had been made and the readings had to be wrong. As the Med Techs packed up, he whispered to Sylvia, “Is it normal not to receive new blood after going outside?”
Sylvia responded silently, with only a quick nod. After the Medics left the Decon chamber, she responded. “Jacob, the air here is much cleaner than the air you breathe up north. It requires much less detox, plus the allowable level of cell toxicity is higher here, so transfusions are rare.” The topic switched back quickly as the pair finished dressing. Sylvia dressed in the same Nu-Skin she had walked in with, something else Jacob found peculiar. “Think about what we talked about earlier, demand and the Sustainability Charts.”
“You got me on that one, nothing registers,” he claimed.
“I will walk you through it, you let me know when you catch up. Let’s start with projects in Engineering, like the dome you are working on. You have admitted that it could be finished faster, right? So what would be a reason to slow that down? And how exactly could Engineering do that?” The questions were rhetorical, meant to spark something in Jacob as Sylvia continued her explanation. “By bidding more time than they need, say ten days for a job that only takes five, the workers’ daily output will be lower because they meet daily demand faster. The daily demand is set to match the extended period, bid by the Department of Engineering. Supplies only arrive as needed, so while it looks like everyone is meeting quotas, clearly something else is going on. No one in your department works at optimal efficiency even though it appears the projects finish ‘on schedule’ according to the charts.”
“But why would they want to do that, and who benefits from that?” Jacob was still confused.
“Well, that is what you are supposed to figure out. Need another hint, I see.” Sylvia stayed patient and tossed another nugget to him. “Now look at the other side of the coin, someone in say food production. They have higher demand and work much longer days.”
“Their jobs are easier,” Jacob interjected.
“Is that a fact? You know firsthand because you have worked in food production?” Sylvia sounded offended by his statement. “It may not be as physically demanding, but they work 12-15 hours a day because demand is so high for food. Demand will continue to grow as more citizens are recruited,” Sylvia informed him. “The ever-growing population causes food demand to rise, and there isn’t exactly a line forming for jobs in Food and Beverage. Jacob, working conditions are tough, in extreme heat. They are on their feet all day, and rarely have down time. Never any breaks like the ones you get from a power-down or an intruder alarm,” she explained.
“So what, this still isn’t clicking. Any of it. I don’t know what one has to do with the other,” he responded.
“The system is messed up Jacob. People setting the demand are screwing with it. Why would someone want to extend a project longer than it needed to be? While setting demand for production so high for other things?” she nudged him along.
His eyes got wide and the light went on in his head. “To distract us from what is going on!” he exclaimed as he slapped a hand on the headrest of the chair. He thought he had finally gotten it. These were just more things to kill citizens’ time. “By occupying more of our time, there is less time for leisure, less time for our minds to wander. Jasper alluded to something similar the day he was killed. But this theory entangles Engineering in the conspiracy, so they are involved as well?” Jacob asked.
“You are still not getting it,” Sylvia said, deflating his spirit even more. “What you are saying is elementary. Of course they are trying to occupy our time, making us work. What else would we be doing if we weren’t forced to work? And how would we get our food, clothes, or anything else? Jacob, you asked if Engineering was involved, but I want to bounce a question back at you. Involved in what?” asked Sylvia.
“The conspiracy the Whisperers are investigating. It means Engineering is involved in it somehow,” Jacob proudly stated.
Jacob thought he was starting to figure things out, but Sylvia continued the lecture. “You are starting to get it, but you still have quite a ways to go. Baby steps. It’s important to open your mind to possibilities that may, in fact, seem impossible. Don’t think for a second that we are investigating just one conspiracy, because that will cause your mind to gridlock or think itself into dead end after dead end. Some people lose it and go insane. It’s much deeper than a single conspiracy. The webs of deception spun here in the ‘Haus and the spiders doing the spinning are great in number. Everyone has their own agenda, even you and me. There is always more than one force in action. If you learn nothing else today, learn that. Jacob Niles, the road is about to get really rocky. We are just starting to scratch the surface.”
Chapter 26 (Ella Storm)
For three days, Ella tried her best to find a comfortable position in the bunker. The space was cramped, and her only options were to lie on her back or on her stomach. Sitting up would require her to vacate her sanctuary, to expose herself to the spying eyes inside Glass City. Based upon the letter Niles read, they had seen her and likely knew she was currently in the bunker. She elected to stay behind the camo veil that covered the opening, watching for something exciting to happen as the waves of pain came and went. Her tailbone, back, shoulders, neck, and head all had an opportunity to shine in the arena of pain.
She tried to think of a time when her head didn’t ache in some manner, but it had been so long. It used
to be the area above her jaw, just below her temples, which ached from the constant gritting and grinding of her teeth, a side effect of her rage and anger. The annoying feeling of the straps on her mask pulling at her hair, while slight compared to other aches, never subsided unless she took her mask off. Doing so caused her lungs to burn as she breathed in the heavy, toxic air. Her life was one big cycle of misery. Relieving one symptom only caused another. At least now she had a fresh, new pain to distract her from her a life of assorted aches.
The pain kept her from dying of boredom, because nothing on the Inside was exciting in the least. Both Stranger Friend and the old man were gone, replaced by two new faces, neither of which interested Ella in the slightest. The games she once used to pass time and the imagined conversations she created with fake voices no longer fulfilled their purpose. Her journey through life had come to a crossroads, the very purpose of her existence now in question.
For every moment of her life prior to being named Elder, she had striven to attain what she now had at her disposal. She ran through the list in her head: A large camp at her command. Check. Soldiers ready to attack on her word. Check. Weapons and firepower necessary to break through the walls and kill many of the people she grew up calling the Oppressors. Check. Be careful what you wish for, it might come true.
Her wildest fantasies had come to life. But now that a devastating attack was just a command or two away, she was hesitant to pull the trigger for many reasons, none more so than the letter read by Niles. What she had learned in her personal life experience contradicted everything taught by her parents and Elders. She, like most on the Outside, had a hard time letting the new stimuli overpower the old. Her recent life-altering transformation tore her mind into a thousand pieces, and she wondered if it would ever be whole again. The conversation between Elders Ashe and Stone just before their deaths replayed loudly in her head.
“I remember the rage of age nineteen, when you think the whole world is out to get you and you are out to get the whole world,” Elder Ashe told Elder Stone, though all present knew the real target of the message.
Elder Stone’s reply, also meant for Ella, followed. “Me too, and lucky for us we learned to harness the rage, for failing to do so will only expedite the Sickness.” Ella wisely heeded their advice, and though still only 20, she felt older, more mature.
It was truly life-saving advice, not only for Ella, but for all those she now commanded. Old Ella would have already marched them into the tunnel and sacrificed the entire camp. The New Ella, a more thoughtful version, weighed all options and considered the consequences of her actions. Her personal growth, something Elder May Stone did her best to foster in Ella, had no effect on her throbbing backside.
The best option to cope with the pain, sleeping through it, had potential consequences. Ella had already burnt a couple of days in slumber and her worry concerning the affairs at the fortress grew. Ella knew she could not stay turtled up in her bunker forever, if for no other reason than her dwindling food rations. She wanted to be a good leader, and a good leader shouldn’t hide or run from their responsibility to the pack.
As Ella made the long trek back to the fortress, her pain had subsided only slightly since her trip to the bunker three days ago. Upon returning to the Elder tent, Ella found Ren sitting at the table in the center, and Niles and Jordan fast asleep on their cots. Ella asked the guards to send for Jeremiah and Zac before she addressed Ren.
Sprite and spry, always eager to prove her loyalty as a member of the old Fire camp, Ren’s above and beyond approach to Ella’s orders hadn’t gone unnoticed. Ren hung on Ella’s every word and obeyed every command without question. “Good, I’m glad you are still here,” Ella began.
Ren smiled. Ella saw her mask rise ever so slightly on her face, caused by the movement of the skin on the cheekbones. Ella was learning to read emotions through the masks, a powerful device in her world.
Ella continued. “There is something I need you to know, just in case,” she said motioning Ren close as she lowered her voice. “If things go bad, or something happens to me, rally as many people to Jeremiah as you can. He is a big and strong presence, but a terrible leader. He needs guidance, or this place will fall apart and we’ll have a repeat of the earlier assassinations by those who want power.”
“I like that idea Elder Storm, but…I just don’t wanna think about anything happening to you,” said her most faithful follower. “Plus, Jeremiah won’t seek my counsel. I can’t make him listen, he’s three times the size of me.”
Ella laughed off Ren’s protests. “Don’t worry about Jeremiah. His exterior is tough and he may act brash, but inside, he’s a softy. And like I said before… a terrible leader. He marched his camp through the ruins of the old city,” she informed Ren, her eyes doubling in size due to the idiotic nature of the statement. “Think about it… do you really think I could have taken Elder from him if he wanted it? I’m not much bigger than you, ya know.”
“Good point, guess I never thought of it like that. But Ella, I don’t know how to run a camp. I don’t know what to tell him. I wouldn’t even know what to do myself.” Ren’s voice was quiet and nonthreatening, even with the added growl from her mask.
“Neither did I, Ren, but I’m still doing it. Besides, I’m not asking you to run the camp. I want you to leave this place and take Niles and Jordan to find his Oasis,” Ella instructed her diminutive assistant. “Even if you don’t find it, the adventure will be a more worthy existence than sitting here, rotting away, waiting to attack or be attacked.” This advice puzzled Ren. She cocked her head slightly to the side as Ella explained what she wanted her to do. Ren admired the fire she had seen in Ella in the aftermath of the failed coup attempt, but something had doused that flame. “Or you can sit here and wait, or become nomads if you want. But under no circumstances should you attack the Glass City. I can’t say why, not yet, but you just have to trust me on this, my reasons are legit. No one else can know for now either, until I have the proof I need to justify my decision to the entire camp.”
Zac interrupted their conversation, led in by Chem and a short, skinny guard from the Blood camp dressed in all black. Ella gave Zac a simple task, to learn about the newly acquired weapons. She hoped to gain time, primarily to figure a good reason to not only delay, but cancel any future attacks, especially with a potential recruitment of her camp by the Rangers. Though not entirely sold on the proposition of recruitment, Ella felt it may benefit the whole of the camp more than any other option.
“I just returned from my latest scout,” Ella began. “And I have some news that may be disturbing to some. But first, how long will it take you to figure out how to make those things fire?” Ella asked.
“No tellin’, it’s a lot of switches in there, and not much light neither,” he explained from behind one of the greasiest masks in the camp. “Couple of days, maybe a week, but it could happen in a day too. Swifty’s pretty good, even better than me.”
“Perfect,” she replied. “A week would synch perfectly with my timeline. They have a new crew and I need to make sure their routine stays the same. I wanna study them a bit more, to note any deviations from the old schedule.” Ella had no timeline and she knew full well the routine would not change. It never did, but she alone possessed that information, and she had learned in her short time as Elder how powerful a tool knowledge was.
Jeremiah poked his head in, “Did I overhear another tandem scouting trip upcoming?”
“No, it will just be me. I have a different job for you.” One that will wear you out, so you are too tired to cause any trouble or harass any other women. “When I leave tomorrow, I want you to rearrange the fortress walls.” Ella walked up to Jeremiah and knelt, using her finger to trace an outline in the dirt. “Elongate its shape and shrink its size at the gates. When the Rangers come, I want them funneled into a narrow choke point here,” she said, pointing to how she wanted the walls rearranged. “Also create two separate inner courtyards, one each
on the north and south sides of the Elder tent. Keep the two sets of exterior walls, with the secret path to the Elder tent, but change the rest.”
“But that will take a whole week or better,” whined the largest man that called the fortress home.
That’s the point. “This is important in the case of a counterattack, which I fully expect,” Ella said. “It will make the fortress more easily defensible, safer for everyone.”
“Even if we worked during all the light time…” his protest was halted by Ella.
“Even if?” she yelled, then lowered her voice slightly. “It goes without saying that you would be working while it’s light, what else would you be doing? The day before you arrived, the Storm campers marched to their minicamp, two hours away, grabbed all the supplies they could carry, then marched back and still rearranged the rear of the fortress, all in a day and a half. Take a week, or two, take as long as you need and as many men as you need, but start with the men from the Fire camp and your own men. The attack is on hold until this is complete and everything else is just perfect. We will need somewhere to retreat to; you know that better than anyone else here, Jeremiah.”
If Ella knew Jeremiah like she thought she did, that last comment would do nothing to spur him into any sort of haste. If anyone wanted to attack less than she did, it had to be him. She knew it would take forever to complete this task, and that by using the men from the Fire and Blood camps, it would tire out the camps that most wanted to fight, hopefully softening the blow when she delivered the news.
Ella dismissed Zac and Ren, and then spoke to Jeremiah alone while Niles and Jordan slept.
There was much she wanted to say, so she just started talking. “Promise that if something happens to me, you will not let this camp split, that you will keep them together.”
“You thinking about running?” asked the scruffy Jeremiah.
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