He watched as the trolley doors opened and several more men dressed like the businessman jumped out into the crowd, their machine guns raised. The CRK soldier opened fire immediately, the bullets tearing through two State workers who fell, thick pools of blood oozing out of their warm bodies.
“Oh my God,” Paulo whispered, frozen in fear. It was really happening. This wasn’t just a story in The Lunia Post. This was real.
Paulo gripped the railing tightly and watched the CRK soldier run towards the four terrorists. He fired haphazardly, his bullets cutting down innocent civilians in his path. The terrorists, who were most likely part of the TDU, fired back, their bullets ricocheting off the CRK soldier’s armor with little effect.
The scene was straight out of a nightmare, one Paulo had seen so many times before in his dreams, and now he had a front row seat. He watched as the screaming civilians dove for cover. The terrorists were positioned behind the safety of stone pillars, firing desperately at the CRK soldier, who ducked behind a stone trash can, pieces of rock exploding from their incoming shots.
“Get down!” one of the terrorists screamed as he lobbed a grenade towards the CRK soldier. The small explosive rolled towards the trash can and came to a stop directly at the foot of the CRK soldier, who was too busy firing to notice it. Seconds later the device exploded, sending a cloud of orange flames and sparks through the air. The explosion rocked the tunnel and blew the CRK soldier in half, his torso landing several feet from a woman who lay screaming. The piercing noise of the explosion subsided as smoke began to fill the corridor.
Paulo sat stunned against the wall, a loud ringing echoing in his ears. He reached up and felt warm blood seeping from his face, but it did not faze him. His eyes remained glued to the scene, scanning the carnage. At least five civilians lay silently on the ground. Another 20 screamed in pain, clutching their bullet and shrapnel wounds. The rest of the civilians ran past Paulo as they tried to escape.
A man grabbed Paulo by the shoulders, his frightened eyes locking onto Paulo’s. “Let’s go, man, what are you doing?!” he screamed. He pulled on Paulo’s tan sweater, but Paulo ignored him, his eyes darting back to the scene. The man let go of his sweater, and took off running with the rest of the survivors.
Below the four terrorists had gone back into the train and were kneeling around a small box. Paulo knew immediately it was a bomb, but the reality of the situation still had not fully hit him. In fact, in an odd way it fascinated him. He strained to hear what the terrorists were saying through his injured ears.
In the distance the whine of CRK sirens rang out, and the ground began to shake with the sound of armored vehicles approaching the tunnel.
“We don’t have much time,” one of the terrorists yelled. He took out a knife and cut the wire of the bomb he was attaching to the center of the trolley.
“Okay, it’s armed!” He stood and patted his comrade on the shoulder. The other three terrorists rose as well. The one in the middle, the same one that Paulo had been sitting by earlier, brushed off his dusty black suit. He appeared to be limping.
“We do this and then make our escape. Nathar, you put the coordinates into the trolley’s computer, so when it leaves here it goes straight to the CRK headquarters. When you’re done, follow us down the tunnel. Ajax, you and Creo follow me back into the storm tunnels,” the leader said.
Paulo sat watching the four men as they began to move in all different directions. The injured leader, the one Creo referred to as Obi slowly made his way off the train. The dark man grabbed his arm and helped him jump down onto the tracks. Then they disappeared from sight, Ajax close behind them.
Paulo continued to sit against the staircase; he gripped the railing so hard his knuckles turned white. Something compelled him to stay and watch. For years he heard about the TDU terrorists, and now he was watching the feared men conduct their work right in front of him. Part of his shock was from fear, but part of it was also from curiosity and mere fascination. In a way, he was almost rooting for the terrorists.
He scanned the bodies of his fellow State workers below and stopped on the torso of the CRK soldier. The truth was, he felt a sense of relief it wasn’t him laying there in a pool of blood.
“Move, move, move!” screamed a dozen CRK soldiers. They ran past Paulo and into the carnage below. One of the soldiers stopped and glanced at Paulo. “Are you all right, sir?” he asked, a semi-concerned tone in his voice. Paulo simply nodded, and looked back down at the trolley as it began to move down the tunnel.
“Don’t let that trolley leave!” the lead CRK soldier shouted. He opened fire on the metal skin of the trolley. Windows exploded as the bullets tore through the thin metal and fragile glass, but it was too late. Nathar had already plotted the train’s course and put it on autopilot, and by now, he and his comrades were long gone down the dark tunnel. The soldiers continued to fire as the train slipped away from range.
Finally, shocked into motion, Paulo crawled up the stairway towards the light above. Step by step, he pulled himself higher, more faceless CRK soldiers and medical workers racing past him.
For Paulo, everything became silent. Thoughts of the carnage escaped his mind as he fixated on the bright white light of the street poles above. Nothing else seemed to matter to him. The TDU, Knights, and injured colleagues were now just an afterthought. All he cared about was reaching the light. It was captivating and beckoned him with its dazzling glow.
With a final push he reached the last step and crawled onto the stone ground above. He rolled on to his back, staring into the light, his chest heaving with every labored breathe.
Life is strange. So much death, and for what?
He laughed as his vision blurred and stars danced across his cloudy line of sight. The bright glare of the light became nothing but an illusion of swirling white. It was seconds later, just before an explosion from the tunnels swallowed him, that he answered his own question.
The death, misery, and suffering were all derived from the same thing; Biomass, and fossil fuels before it. As the inferno raced up the stairway, he cracked a smile. His eyes locked onto the Biomass-fed light pole before he was incinerated.
Time: 8:03 a.m. January 30, 2071
Location: Sector of Governmental Services. Lunia, Tisaia
Spurious was bored. He was sitting in his cubicle staring at Archie, when he felt the blast. It shook the entire building, and knocked his plastic clock off the wall. He immediately grabbed Archie’s bowl, making sure it did not fall and break.
Spurious peeked out of his cubicle to examine the deafening roar, but all he could see were State workers running down the hall towards the receptionist desk, where a radio was transmitting something over the airwaves.
He quickly got up from his desk and followed his co-workers down the hall. He already knew something was terribly wrong. He thought about what Leo had told him a few days before, and deep down he knew his life had already changed. Part of this caused a great sense of excitement deep in his gut, but there was also the anxiety of change he always feared.
At the end of the hallway SGS workers cluttered around the receptionist’s desk, listening to what sounded like the deep voice of Governor Felix.
“State employees and citizens of Tisaia. We’re now at a cross roads between good and evil. This morning, at 1:30 a.m., terrorists affiliated with the TDU detonated a bomb in a trolley carrying a five week’s supply of Biomass to Lunia. And at approximately 8:00 a.m. a second attack occurred as TDU terrorists boarded a passenger trolley and planted a second bomb. They had planned for the trolley to explode under the CRK headquarters building, but thanks to the bravery of our fine Knights, the bomb was detonated before it could reach its final target.
“It’s with great sadness that I tell you we lost many good Knights and State workers today. But I assure all of you that you need not fear for your lives or for your safety. As of today, the CRK will engage in a campaign to eradicate the TDU from Tisaia and from the very dirt of th
is earth. Nothing will stop me from taking the lives of every last one of these terrorists.”
Spurious could hear the anger in the words of the Governor. Confusion rushed over him as he thought about his dead colleagues, and then his family, who had been murdered by the CRK. His heart fluttered heavily as he first thought of his mother and father, and then of Lana, the woman he had grown to love but could never have.
Nervous chatter exploded throughout the room as State workers began to discuss the Governor’s announcement.
“All right, folks, let’s get back to work. It does not seem like there’s any immediate danger to us here in this building. If there is, I have been assured by CRK officials that they will evacuate the building,” Varius said.
* * *
It wasn’t until lunch that news of the fatalities started trickling into the office. Spurious was attempting to work on a document when a pale Ing rushed into his cubicle, a look of despair streaked across his young face. Before Ing said, anything, Spurious knew something was terribly wrong.
“Paulo never made it to work today,” Ing said, quietly.
A wave of panic washed over Spurious. “Let’s go find him Ing.”
Time: 12:15 a.m. January 31, 2071
Location: Trolley Station #14. Lunia, Tisaia
A crescent moon broke through the cloud of smoke covering Lunia like a blanket. It was shortly after midnight, and the CRK and SGS disaster teams were still digging through the rubble above Trolley Station #14.
The TDU had fallen short of their goal of destroying the CRK headquarters, but the damage to Tisaia’s infrastructure was catastrophic.
Spurious and Ing watched the recovery effort from the middle of a massive crowd. Everyone was waiting to hear about their lost loved ones.
“How did it come to this?” Spurious asked, shielding his face from the heat of the raging fire. “It seemed like Paulo was beginning to come out of his depression, and now this. There is nothing left of him. Nothing left to bury.”
“I shouldn’t have been so hard on him lately,” Ing finally replied.
“You couldn’t have known this would happen.”
Ing scowled. “It doesn’t matter now. The TDU will pay for this.”
Spurious thought again of Leo, and what the old man had told him only days before. Had his parents really been a part of the group that killed his friend and destroyed the lives of so many innocent civilians?
He watched the faceless Knights digging through the rubble. Were they the enemy, or were the rebels the ones he should blame?
A gust of scorching wind shook the confusing notions from his head and he stared back into the orange flames. “I hope you find peace, Paulo,” Spurious said, patting Ing on his shoulder. They walked out of the crowd and began their trip back to the Commons area.
“I had to see it for myself,” Spurious said.
“The TDU is going to pay for this,” Ing responded.
Spurious stopped, resting his back on the cold metal of a light pole. He looked at his friend.
“Ing, there’s a lot we do not know about this conflict. The CRK has murdered a lot of innocent civilians as well. And I…” Spurious paused to pick his words carefully. “Well, I just don’t know what to think anymore,” Spurious whispered, his gaze dropping to the cobblestone street.
“What are you saying, Spurious? The TDU just murdered our best friend, and you’re questioning who is right in this situation?”
“I’m not questioning who is right,” Spurious interrupted, his voice growing louder. “I’m questioning the point of all of this. The laws, the mechanical work, the power of the State, and why we don’t share the Biomass with other States that still exist.”
“You’re questioning the very nature of Tisaia, then. That’s treason, and you could be hung! You’re lucky I’m your friend, Spurious. If I wasn’t, you’d have some questions to answer,” Ing finished calmly.
“You’re right, I’m lucky you’re my friend. Let’s not speak of this any longer. Let’s instead remember our friend Paulo. Tonight, we’ll celebrate his life and forget the troubling times we live in.”
Ing shot Spurious a defensive glance, and after a few moments of silence he nodded. “You’re right, tonight we drink to Paulo,” Ing said.
Time: 1:30 a.m. January 31, 2071
Location: The Ale House. Lunia, Tisaia
The Ale House was packed full of sweaty patrons, and the ale was flowing freely. Spurious figured most of the State employees knew the danger of the TDU attack was over, and most of them who weren’t immediately affected by the bombing were drinking to celebrate life. Others were like Spurious and Ing, celebrating the life of lost loved ones.
That was the traditional Tisaian way, celebrating the life of those who died. There was so much death and this was the only way Tisaians knew how to grieve.
Spurious had always thought it ironic, considering how cheap the value of life could be at times.
“Things just don’t feel the same,” Spurious said, sipping his ale.
“I don’t think they will be the same for a long time,” Ing responded. “I wish I had treated Paulo better the last few times I had seen him. I was always arguing with him.”
“He loved you like a son, Ing,” Spurious said, reassuringly.
A tear crawled down Ing’s face as he took another swig of ale. “It’s going to take some time before things get back to normal.”
“Yeah you’re right about that. I never told you this, Ing, but my parents were killed in the beginning of the Biomass Revolution. I have never really gotten over it. One day I went to school, and when I came home, they just weren’t there anymore. I was shipped off to another school shortly after. To this day, I still feel like a piece of me is gone, but after a while you get used to the loss, and the feeling you’ll never be whole again.”
Ing looked across the booth, his mouth quivering, but silent. Recognizing the anguish in his friend’s features, Spurious reached across the table, patting Ing’s hand.
“It’s all right, life is difficult. We just have to look after each other now,” Spurious said.
“You’re the only friend I have now,” Ing replied solemnly.
Spurious looked up to see his friend looking back at him. “Besides Lana, you’re the only friend I have, too.”
“Lana? What do you mean, you have Lana? She belongs to Varius. Spurious, you know that. What do you mean, she’s all you have, other than me?”
Spurious slouched in his seat, realizing he had never told Ing about Lana. In fact, he had never told anyone about Lana. What a perfect time to tell Ing about this, Spurious thought, frustrated.
“Ing, I’ve been meaning to tell you. I really have. I just didn’t ever know how to tell you that Lana and I have fallen for one another.”
Ing gasped. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Spurious. First, you’re questioning your loyalty to Tisaia, in public. And now you’re in love with the assistant to our supervisor? What’s gotten into you?”
Spurious brought his finger to his lips. “Calm down. Don’t draw any attention to us. You know there could be an undercover CRK agent anywhere in here right now.”
“Spurious. I just don’t get it. You have the perfect life, a great job, a great flat. We have fun when we go out. You know you could find a wife through the regular process. Why do you have to put yourself in jeopardy?”
“The regular process? Ing, does that not seem a little odd to you? Do you really want the State telling you what you can eat, who you can marry and where you can travel? I mean, come on, when did you become so complacent? I don’t want to go fill out an application at the Sector for Love and Compassion and roll the dice, hoping they find me someone I’m compatible with. Lana is perfect for me. And we’ve been able to keep it a secret this far. I don’t want to go through the regular process with her. What if the State finds we’re not compatible, and decides we shouldn’t be together? Then what do I do? I love her!”
Ing rolled his eyes,
and took a long swig of his ale. “I don’t know what to tell you. I just know if Varius finds out, you’re ruined. You’ll lose your job, and he will probably push the Council’s Office to prosecute you for crimes of passion.”
“I have already thought of this, and to be honest, I don’t care.”
“Well, it seems like tonight you don’t care about much at all, do you, Spurious?”
Spurious looked down at the table, using his sleeve to wipe it clean of ale. He thought again of what Leo told him only days before.
You have the ability to shape the future of Tisaia. Out of all people, how do I fight against a State that is so powerful, so ruthless? And through all of this, how do I keep Lana?
“Snap out of it, Spurious. I think we need to get out of here,” Ing said, nodding to alert him to two Royal Knights in full armor walking towards them. Spurious looked quickly over his shoulder and watched the Knights push their way through the crowded bar.
Ing and Spurious remained still; their eyes aimed at the table, hoping to evade any unnecessary attention.
“Do you think they’re really looking for us, Spurious?”
“Why the hell would they be looking for us, unless someone overheard us talking?”
“I really didn’t think we were being loud,” Ing shot back nervously.
“Well, what should we do?” Spurious asked.
“If they’re here for us, they will catch us eventually. We better just stay put.”
The two Royal Knights continued to push their way through the crowd, combing through patrons with their assault rifles. Their blue goggles glowed in the dark tavern, reminding Spurious of two large black owls descending on prey. With every beat of bass the Royal Knights moved closer to Spurious and Ing’s table. He could feel his heart beating in his chest. Thump. Thump. Thump.
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