Greenhaus:Storm

by Reckelhoff, Bryan

  As they neared the tunnel into Newer Orleans, she pulled up beside him. “The show must go on, Jacob. People will be watching. However mad you are at me, you need to leave that out here.”

  “I know the rules, babe,” he said, putting emphasis on the last word as he jumped on the back of the ATV. The couple checked back in, all smiles as they did. After returning the ATV and other equipment, they started into the tunnel that led them back up to the Decon chamber. “Hold on a sec,” Jacob said as he ran back to the check-in area and whispered something to one of the men in the area.

  The man said nothing. He just smiled and nodded.

  Chapter 37 (Ren Fire)

  “I think I see it, to the left, a notch in the levee,” exclaimed Ren.

  Niles followed his co-pilot’s instructions, swinging the green machine toward the break. The trio followed the wall of mud, looking for the clearing that would lead them to the caves in the river valley, hoping to pick up more outcasts.

  Ren looked through the periscope as they rumbled toward the levee. The top of the levee had a notch in it, but she wasn’t exactly sure what she was looking for. “Hold on, be right back,” she said as she slid the viewing device away from her. The small door to the sleeping quarters opened. “Jasper, Jasper, wake up. I think we are here, but I can’t tell. Come navigate for Niles.”

  Jasper rolled out of bed and rubbed his eyes. He slowly lumbered to the periscope. After taking a brief look he said, “Yep, we’re here, wake me if you need anything else.” He turned around and made his way back to the cot.

  Stopping at the base of the levee, Niles and Ren exited. Sunlight attacked their eyes. “What’s that noise?” Ren asked, using her arm to shield against the blitzkrieg of light.

  “It’s the water,” answered Niles. “Come see.” He led her up the muddy levee, each step bringing them closer to the mighty waters of the river.

  “Wow, look at all this water, I’ve never seen so much in my life,” exclaimed Ren as she continued to shield her eyes from the rising sun. “It’s so far to the other side. Could someone swim across it?”

  “Oh goodness no,” laughed Niles. “Maybe in Old Earth, when the river was smaller, but not now. It’s miles across in most places. Where it narrows, like here, the current is too strong.”

  “Hmmm, I wonder what’s on the other side.” Ren wondered aloud.

  “I would guess it’s not much different over there. I’ve heard rumors that across the Big Muddy, far to the east, the toxicity is so high it’s not possible to breathe even a single breath. They say the air just eats the exposed skin right down to the bone.”

  “Not much of an existence for Outsiders there, huh?” asked Ren.

  Niles chuckled once again. “I don’t mean to laugh, little lady, I just keep forgetting how little lifelong Outsiders know, especially those of New Earth. The truth is that in those areas, there are no Outsiders. Hell, aren’t any Insiders, not the kind we think of anyway,” Niles explained as he walked along the sloppy levee, followed closely by Ren. “From what I’ve heard, they live in underground silos that are a thousand feet deep, but I’m not so sure I believe that.”

  The water rushed by violently, the bank on the other side barely visible. “Yeah, that sounds far-fetched. Seems it would be much harder to construct than Glass City,” she pointed out.

  “Look, over there,” Niles exclaimed.

  “The caves?” asked Ren, whose eyes still hadn’t adjusted to the light.

  “No, across the river,” Niles said as he pointed to the other shore. “Just look for movement on the horizon.”

  “Oh I see them!” Many people walked the other bank. “What do you suppose they are doing?” she asked.

  “My guess is looking for a way across,” Niles said.

  The light continued to be bothersome for Ren, who was still squinting. “Is it just me or is it brighter down here?”

  “It is much brighter here. The cloud layer isn’t as thick, the sky isn’t as angry. On a good day, we get a glimpse of the sun in the open sky,” Niles explained. “But only when Mother Earth deems us worthy.”

  “Are the caves close?” Ren asked.

  “Yes,” Niles answered. “Just downriver, around the next bend, the land rises and becomes very hilly; the caves are not far. We are really just checking for activity before we roll in with the tank.”

  “Hmmm,” Ren replied as the pair continued to scan the horizon, watching the movement across the river. “How about we give it a name, like the Blood camp did with The Beast.”

  “Any suggestions?” he asked.

  “No, nothing specifically, I just think it needs a name, instead of just calling it ‘the tank.’ It’s so impersonal,” Ren explained. They both went into silent brainstorming mode.

  “Well, it is a tank and it isn’t a person so…”

  Ren ignored his sarcastic remark.

  The sound of the rushing water was broken by the first suggestion. “I got it,” Niles said. “Let’s call her…Thunderella.”

  “Thunderella...” pondered Ren, “Thunder Ella,” she repeated, separating it into two words. “That is perfect. Speaking of, shouldn’t we be getting back to her and Jasper?”

  “Jasper is fine, he loves to sleep. So I just let him snooze. As for Thunderella, she could use the break,” suggested Niles. “We have been riding her hard for the better part of two days. I have been taking it easy to conserve fuel, but she could still overheat or break down. I have no tools or parts to fix her. Fuel is running low, so soon enough we will have to set out on foot.”

  Ren’s face lit up. “I don’t care, I’ve always liked walking. Especially if I know there is a destination on the other side. I’m excited as I’ve ever been to see this Oasis.”

  “As you should be. There is nothing else like it on the Outside, except maybe our colony on the island. Well, as far as we know, anyway. Our travel is limited and our frame of reference is small,” Niles said.

  “Who are you tellin’,” replied Ren. “I’ve lived inside two camps for my whole life and never strayed far from either. It wasn’t allowed. I had heard tales of the Big Muddy, but the words didn’t do it justice. This river is amazing.”

  Niles nodded his head in agreement, “I remember the last time I saw her in Old Earth, and the first time in New Earth. It’s quite the remarkable change.”

  “Why isn’t there a levee on the other side though?” the always curious Ren asked.

  Niles demeanor changed in an instant. His warm, friendly expression was replaced by a hardened scowl. Ren observed the dramatic change and decided not to prod him. He didn’t respond right away, like he was hiding something that he didn’t want to reveal. Then Niles took a deep breath and calmly replied, “Well, I think we should be heading back now.”

  “But I thought you said….”

  “No,” he barked. “No more. It’s time we head back to Thunderella and continue south.”

  Ren knew something about her last question had triggered the change in his disposition. Despite her curious nature, she let it die. She planned to revisit the topic at some point, but not when he was in this mood. Ren was in no position to be combative with her companions; she would die within days if they left her like they had left Jeremiah. During her time in the two camps she grew up in, she had seen all sorts of erratic and inconsistent behavior, but very few showed as many faces in as short a time as Harvard Niles.

  Three months later…

  Chapter 38 (Specimen 10041954)

  She felt rested, though she had no recollection of where she was or how she had gotten there. In fact, she couldn’t remember anything, including her own name. Her mind was a blank slate.

  Who am I? What is this place? How long have I been here? Could have been a day, or a couple of weeks. A month or two. She attempted to sit up, but something grabbed her and yanked her back, slamming her head into the fluffy pillow. She tried again, then a third time, with each result the same. Leather restraints with minimal slack preve
nted her from reaching behind her to investigate the contraption.

  “Hello,” she whispered. “Anyone else awake?” Unless the symphony of snores and other assorted sleeping noises that filled the room counted, no one responded.

  She looked around and saw rows and rows of beds, all full of people fast asleep in similar restraints. She wiggled her hands, trying to free one from its bindings. She did the same with her feet. Twisting, turning, squirming, pulling, yanking, and otherwise contorting her body.

  Fifteen minutes of violently moving about like a seizure victim allowed her left hand to slip free. As she moved to undo the leather strap around her right wrist, she felt a slight tug in her left forearm. A little popping noise produced a burning sensation in her forearm.

  It took some time and effort, but she freed herself of all her restraints. Now sweating profusely, the girl who couldn’t remember her name sat up. Just a short time ago she felt refreshed, but now exertion caused her head to swim. Her surroundings blurred and would not keep still.

  Maybe it was the grogginess or memory loss, but this place looked unfamiliar. The room was rectangular in shape. White walls surrounded her. The floor and ceiling matched them in color, except for a bit of chrome trim around fixtures. The only blip of color, drops of red from her left forearm, stained the sheets of her bed. The room was dimly lit from above, but still too bright for her eyes. They ached terribly and were having a hard time adjusting.

  She looked to the ground below and stared for a brief second while the floor came into focus. It appeared to be about a six foot drop. There were two others sleeping beneath her, with only small gaps between the bunks. She pushed herself off the bed, smearing the stain further. Before she hit the floor another pop caused her right forearm to feel the same sensation as her left. She investigated the burning feeling only to see crimson trickling from both arms to the whiteness below.

  The lights pulsed, becoming much brighter. The white all around glowed and blinded her. All the rows and rows of beds and the clothes used to dress them were white as well. She looked around for an exit.

  A long, skinny tube ran from behind her bed and hung off the edge, its coil stopping just a foot from the floor, dripping the same crimson as her arms. At the end was a thin sharp piece of metal, which she broke off, sending a heavier flow of the red liquid onto the gleaming white floor.

  She searched the beds nearby, smearing her blood everywhere, while she tried to find someone she knew. She didn’t recognize anyone and still couldn’t produce a name for herself.

  Whoosh. The strange noise spun her around. Several men wearing white robes entered the room. Cloth masks covered their mouths and noses. They cautiously approached.

  “Get me 200cc’s of Dopapreen. This one needs a double dose, a single isn’t keeping her down.” One of the white clad soldiers quickly scurried back out the door. As he left, she noticed a large red symbol on his back, perfect in its angles and lines, just like the room to which she was confined.

  A straight line up, a straight line across, both intersecting at the midpoint of the other. Big and bold, centered perfectly on the backs of the white gowns, in the same color as the growing pool of liquid beneath her.

  She clutched the sliver of metal as the white-clad mob closed in. She was outnumbered and feeling woozy, straining to see through eyes that had a great aversion to the bright light.

  “Get a containment crew in here as well. There is blood all over the walls, the floor, beds. It’s a mess!” This man was a leader of some sort; she could tell from the way others followed his commands. He lowered the volume of his voice as he began speaking to her. “Look, we don’t want to hurt you.” He held his hands up in a non-threatening manner and slowly walked toward her.

  The same cannot be said of me. She lunged toward the man, swinging the sliver of metal, but missing as the much more agile man dodged her woozy attempt. She was moving slowly, but tried again. This time he grabbed her arm and slammed it against the bed frame, causing her to drop the weapon.

  Several of the others closed in on her as well and restrained her arms and legs. “She has a lot of fight in her,” one of them muttered as she struggled to escape. He uttered a dry laugh.

  “Not for long though, that double shot will take care of her. And she won’t remember any of this,” chided another.

  Whoosh.

  She was tired of hearing that noise already; it meant trouble. A man arrived carrying a tube filled with a light pink, milky substance, which he loaded into some sort of gun with a metal tip similar to the one she had wielded as a weapon.

  She did her best to get free, but her efforts were futile. The man with the strange contraption approached her wiggling body as those who restrained her exposed her backside. He jabbed the tip into her exposed rear end. Instantly her struggling stopped and her body started to go limp. She fought to stay awake, but something overpowered her will and pulled her toward the darkness.

  Her eyelids were too heavy to keep open. She collapsed back into the arms of the man she had attacked. The device was removed and her backside was covered. The last thing she heard in was an annoyingly sing-song voice as he patted her head. “Thaaaat’s right, off you go to dreamland. It shouldn’t be too much longer until programming is finished and you can produce some good, clean eggs, darlin’.”

  Chapter 39 (Jacob Niles)

  Stuck in Newer Orleans since the attack, Jacob was homesick. Sent to Newer Orleans for six weeks, his stay was now in its thirteenth week. Rumors started about the resumption of normal travel, but those whispers had made the rounds before. Until he saw the Bullet or some Beebes speeding out of a tunnel on a regular basis, he would temper his excitement.

  He missed his apartment, his job as a topper, and being close to his mother, among a hundred other things. The worst part was that he had no idea when he would be able to return to New St Louis, even though he had accrued plenty of free days. To escape Sylvia or Newer Orleans in general, Jacob took frequent trips to the Oasis.

  A second attack hit New St. Louis just days after the first one, and though reports detailed the ground forces to be much smaller in number, the machines they used packed a similar wallop. Annexes 21 and 22 suffered great damage. The two most devastating attacks in the history of the Greenhaus Colonies caused fear to spread like spilled water, finding every nook and cranny of the ‘Haus, leaving no mind unaltered.

  The Commissioner’s Assembly shut down the transportation network almost completely, except for emergency runs aboard the Bullet. Ranger patrols at every Greenhaus Colony were beefed up under direct orders from Marvin Law, who wanted more eyes on watch for enemies outside the glass. Exterior patrols increased, and power-downs became more common.

  A bug planted in Jacob’s ear suggested that some in the assembly pushed for the creation of a formal army. At one time he may have quickly dismissed any talk of the Commissioner’s Assembly supporting such a direct violation of the Green Constitution, but now he couldn’t be so sure. The Department of Rangers recruited heavily, giving credence to those spreading the rumors.

  In his past life Jacob would have viewed being passed over as a snub, but now missing the cut to be a Ranger was a relief. The glass and steel walls would keep him safe. His concern lay more with his enemies on the Inside than any potential threat from the Outsiders, because the threat of those on the Inside was more immediate and the harm they could do to him was more real.

  His biggest problem was sorting friends from foes. Jacob learned quickly his friends were equally, if not more, troublesome than his enemies, and that they required the same watchful eye. He wasn’t sure if it was paranoia or good instincts that kept him from trusting those around him. He had seen a lot of deception during his stay in Newer Orleans, including his own ‘employment.’

  Currently Jacob was employed to fix the sinking ‘Haus, which meant he did nothing most days except try to stay calm and keep from going insane. Many times he thought he was close to a monumental breakthrough on h
is search for the mole, but his theories all had holes punched in them. He was saving a few prime suspects for Doyle, but conversations of that nature had to be done in person. Sending a message, no matter how secure the method of transfer, was risky.

  Upon completion of this next ‘job’, Jacob hoped to be transferred back to New St. Louis, to help with the rebuilding of Annex 23 and the repairs in 21 and 22. It would be the only way to qualify him for an emergency trip aboard the Bullet, which would both get him home and get him away from Sylvia, who was once again getting on his last nerve, bickering with him constantly. Their current argument had spoiled the tranquility of the Oasis.

  “If this is how you are going to act, you can forget about us being together after your training is complete,” Sylvia said.

  Jacob looked forward to the end of their time together. He kept up the appearance of wanting their time as a couple to continue after the storyline ran its course, not just for those watching, but for Sylvia too. Jacob’s initial infatuation had ceased. He had caught her in too many lies to be able to trust her.

  He removed his over shirt and placed it in his duffel bag. “Don’t be like that,” Jacob pleaded. “I’ve been told to keep that confidential. The message was clear; ‘Tell no one’ were the last three words.” These disagreements were commonplace now and made his blood boil. Jacob knelt down and pawed at the forest floor, clearing a small space of all the fallen leaves.

  “But that doesn’t include me, Jacob,” shouted Sylvia. “I’m your training agent, and I don’t want to know, I need to know.”

  “Sorry, but I’m not telling anyone until I get clearance from Doyle,” Jacob said. He dug in the dirt while Sylvia stared down at him.

  “So are you saying you don’t trust me?” she asked.

  “I don’t trust anyone anymore. It’s nothing personal,” Jacob explained, still digging. “I’ve failed too many tests, or did you forget? How do I know this isn’t another one of your games? And when I tell I get put on the dirt again, or worse.” That was Jacob’s go-to move whenever Sylvia tried to pry information from him. And it always worked because he was right. That did not stop him from continuing the argument, turning the tables on her. “Besides, you still haven’t told me about the wigs I found in storage under the bed.”