The Biomass Revolution ttc-1

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  Spurious choked, the memory of Lana’s death haunting his thoughts before the crackling radio brought him back.

  “It turns out everything I have known to be true is a lie. My parents were the founders of the TDU. The State I served has oppressed those it has sworn to defend. I have seen the Wastelands, I have seen the immigrant camps and I have seen the ruthlessness of both the TDU and the Knights. And on top of all of the death, misery and pain I have seen something else. I have seen a common humanity I once read about when I was a young boy. There was once a place called New York City, a city full of immigrants from around the world. They came to Ellis Island for a chance at better life. As I have traveled throughout Tisaia, the camps, Rohania and even Lunia I realized what made New York great can make Tisaia great. If we give everyone a chance to survive, Tisaia can become a just place again. You know as well as I do that we have enough Biomass and food reserves to last a century. We can help those in need. We can build a strong Tisaia, one that values righteousness.”

  Ajax watched the young man and smiled. “Go on, Spurious,” he said.

  Spurious nodded and continued. “Tinus, I ask you to surrender because the bloodshed does not need to continue. We can heal from this revolution, and you and your Knights will not be harmed. I can assure you. At the end of this, we’ll need your men to continue to protect our walls. Your men will not only be safe, they will be utilized in further service to the State. These are our conditions. Surrender and you shall remain Knights…”

  Time: 8:22 a.m. February 29, 2071

  Location: The Golden Dome. Lunia, Tisaia

  The arena was almost completely dark, illuminated only by the sporadic red flicker of blinking emergency lights.

  Inside the second floor business office, Royal Knight Tinus stood in the makeshift control room, staring at an outdated map of the city. His men were still hastily setting the room up, piling desks against the windows overlooking the parking lot.

  A deafening gunshot rang out from the corner of the room, the shot echoing throughout, but Tinus held steady, his face stoic. He had ordered the two snipers positioned at the window to fire every five minutes, to prevent the rebels from advancing. This would buy him time, hopefully enough to devise a plan—a plan that didn’t include surrendering, the option extended to him earlier by the TDU.

  “Reporting for duty, sir,” a Knight said from the hallway.

  Tinus instantly recognized the muffled voice. “How did it come to this, Riya?” he replied, bringing his fist down on the table. “That wasn’t a rhetorical question.”

  Riya unfastened his helmet, taking it off so he could run his hand through his sweat drenched hair. “Sir, it’s not good. We’ve lost contact with all of our squads outside the building. The rebels have taken two of our ammo depots, our garage, and our headquarters is gone.”

  Tinus froze, his eyes finding their way back to the map. “We’re completely surrounded and the rebels have Fox Hounds. There is no way out.”

  Riya frowned, wondering if it was finally time to reveal his true thoughts about the State. Would Tinus accept them? Embrace them? Or would he call him a traitor and have him hauled away? The old Knight took a deep breath. Under the circumstances it was a risk he was willing to take. “Sir, we need to talk. Can we do this in private?”

  Tinus wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead. “Sure, there is an office down the hall. Follow me.”

  The two Knights exited the office and entered the dark hall, ignoring the salutes of Knights who stood waiting for orders.

  “It’s the first door on your left,” Tinus said, pointing ahead.

  Riya scanned the room and found a pair of chairs stacked in the corner. He dragged them over to a coffee table and nodded at Tinus. “Please sit.”

  Tinus clasped his hands together behind his back. “I’d rather stand. There is a battle going on outside, our men are dying. Make this quick.”

  Riya nodded and reached for his hand held radio, placing it in the center of the table. “I overheard your conversation with Spurious on the open channel. In fact, most of the men did.”

  Tinus laughed, his face quickly growing red with anger. “You brought me all the way down here to tell me that?”

  “With all due respect sir, just look outside. We’re completely surrounded. There is nowhere to run and no way to fight our way out of this situation. You’re the Royal Commander now. Please think of your men and the citizens of Tisaia.”

  Tinus snorted. “We can still win this battle, my old friend.”

  “At what cost? 25 men? 50?” Riya said, interrupting Tinus in mid sentence.

  “I’d sacrifice every man if it meant keeping Tisaia safe.”

  Riya stood to face his old ally. “Safe from whom? From its own people? The Rohanians? The State Workers? The Immigrants? Tinus, this revolution isn’t the result of one horrible law; it’s a result of hundreds of bad laws!”

  “What would you have me do?” Tinus said, his face flushed with frustration.

  “I’d have you surrender and help restore Tisaia to the State it was meant to be!” Riya yelled, spit flying out of his open mouth.

  Tinus stiffened. His eyes locked with Riya’s for a split second before darting away to the wall. He took a deep breath and walked to the door. “When did things go to shit, my old friend?”

  Riya took a step over to Tinus and put a hand on his armored shoulder. “A long time ago.”

  Tinus let out a deep breath, his chest plate shrinking back to its normal position. A flash from his battle with the Samoan slipped into his mind. He could vividly remember the crowd cheering for the refugee. Even clearer was the memory of his utter shock, wondering why the audience would request mercy for the man. But now it was all beginning to make sense. As much as he hated to admit it, Riya and Spurious were right. The State had oppressed citizens for too long. Even worse, the Governor and his cohorts had brainwashed the Knights to carry out their restrictive laws. How could he have been blind to it for so long?

  Tinus grunted, and cracked a rare smile. “You’re right, Riya. We should have stood up for what was right a long time ago. I’m afraid fear has been rampant for too long in Tisaia, preventing justice and equality from being served to the masses.”

  Riya returned the man’s smile. “You’re right, but it isn’t too late. We can still salvage this. We can help rebuild Tisaia again.”

  “I thought that’s what we did after the Biomass Wars, but I’ve been wrong all along,” Tinus responded, slipping his helmet back on. “Inform the men. I’m heading back to the control room to discuss our surrender with the TDU.”

  Riya stood at the doorway, watching the red flicker of emergency lights. The glow illuminated Tinus’ dust caked armor through the darkness with every flash.

  Suddenly a powerful wave of relief rushed over Riya—a wave so powerful he was forced to brace himself against the wall. He had been harboring his dissent for so long, and now it was finally over. He could breathe again. And while he wasn’t certain what the future held, there was something about this Spurious that convinced him things were going to change.

  Time: 9:01 a.m. February 29, 2071

  Location: Lunia, Tisaia

  Static crackled over the radio. Squad 19 hunched around the radio, waiting for a response from Royal Knight Tinus.

  Spurious glanced up to see the Rohanians had stopped advancing and waited in a circle around the building, news of the negotiations spreading quickly.

  “Spurious, this is Tinus, come in. Over.”

  Spurious fumbled for the radio and quickly brought it to his mouth. “Roger, Spurious here. Over.”

  “First off, let’s drop the radio formalities. This conversation is anything but formal. Now tell me, the Ellis Island you spoke of. Was it a good place to live?”

  “One of the best sir. The men and women migrated there in search of a better life. Through hard work they achieved more than you could ever imagine and built one of the best cities in the world.”

/>   “This sounds like something worth fighting for,” Tinus replied. “How will you ensure my men will still continue to serve if we surrender?”

  “Rebel leader Obi Hepe firmly believed Tisaia was corrupted not by its soldiers, but by its leaders. With Governor Felix, Commander Augustus and the legislature gone, Tisaia will need new leaders. Righteous leaders. They will need an army to protect the walls. Your men will be pardoned and will continue to serve. This is my promise to you. I’ve been assured by Rebel leader Alexir Jahn the TDU will honor this pledge.”

  A brief moment of radio silence followed Spurious’ assurances.

  “A lot of good men and innocent people have been killed today. It needs to end. We will accept the TDU’s conditions and will surrender.”

  Spurious dropped the radio to the ground, ignoring the pieces of plastic cracking on the concrete below. He couldn’t believe what he had heard.

  His eyes scanned the faces of the squad members, all who looked equally confused and shocked, before turning back to the building.

  The fog began to part and a small ray of crimson light broke through one of the gray clouds above the Dome. Like a miracle, the gold rooftop began to radiate light. The rebels rose from the safety of their hiding places, watching the anomaly, soaking in the rare splendor before the sun crawled back behind the cloud and the gray reclaimed the land. Through the silence a voice broke out in the distance. “They’re surrendering!”

  Spurious turned to see Leo racing through the field. “Put down your weapons, they’re surrendering!” he yelled.

  Spurious laughed at the sight of the crazy old man, his arms flailing joyfully about. The rebels cautiously began to put down their weapons, erupting into cheers. One by one, the men and women emerged from the fog.

  Ajax grabbed Spurious and hugged the man half his size. For a second Spurious couldn’t believe what happened, but as Ajax let go, Spurious realized it was real.

  “Obi would be proud of you,” Ajax said, laughing.

  Spurious smiled, not his half grin, but a full one gleaming with joy.

  “Spurious! You’ve done it! Tisaia is now free!” Creo yelled.

  The two embraced as more and more rebels surrounded them. “Spurious!” someone began to shout.

  He turned to see Leo again, shouting his name energetically in the middle of the growing crowd.

  “Spurious! Spurious! Spurious!” the old man shouted. In a matter of seconds those around him started to repeat the same. Ajax grabbed Spurious and hoisted him onto his shoulders.

  By the time the Knights began to emerge from the entrance of the arena an entire crowd was chanting his name, Ajax carrying him through the hundreds of faces of civilians.

  Ajax looked up at his comrade. “We’ve won, my friend! We’ve won!”

  A tear crept down Spurious’ battered cheek, not from joy, not from sadness, but a combination of both. He watched the crowd shouting his name and remembered Lana, Paulo, his parents, Obi and all of the others lost in the fight for Tisaia. And he smiled.

  The sun finally broke through the gray morning, illuminating a new Tisaia, a free Tisaia.

  EPILOGUE

  Time: 1:14 p.m. September 29, 2072.

  Location: Lunia School of Philosophy and History. Lunia, Tisaia.

  A cool breeze rustled the leaves outside of Terro’s lecture hall window. He watched the wind pluck a red leaf from a maple tree, swirling it towards the ground.

  In the front of the room the professor paused, his eyes falling on the young man lost in his thoughts. “Terro, what was your take on the end of the Biomass Revolution?”

  Startled by the question, Terro’s eyes swiftly darted to Professor Creo. The man had taught at the Lunia School of Philosophy and History for a little over a year now. He was, in many ways, a living legend. It was rumored he fought against the Council of Royal Knights in the uprising of 2071.

  “Not a lot, Professor. Mostly just what my mother has told me.”

  “Which is?” Professor Creo entreated.

  “Well, she said, the TDU helped start a rebellion, rallying citizens from Rohania and immigrants from the old camps.”

  “Your mother is right. She should know; after all, she played a large role.”

  It was not a secret Terro’s parents were both part of the rebellion. He tried to remain humble, but all of his classmates knew he was the son of one of the most respected soldiers of Tisaia.

  “It’s my understanding the beginning years of Tisaian history were sealed in secrecy,” Terro continued.

  Professor Creo placed his pencil down on the podium and began to stroll down the hallway.

  “Terro is partially correct. The beginning years of Tisaian history are certainly not a time we should be proud of, but they were not necessarily sealed in secrecy, as he suggests.”

  Terro stirred nervously in his chair, a tint of red forming on his face. He didn’t speak much in class, but when he did he liked to be knowledgeable about the topic.

  “You all know Governor Felix Steppe and Council of Royal Knight Commander Alexander Augustus ruled Tisaia with an iron fist. The Governor and his allies isolated Tisaia from the rest of the world. Laws were passed to restrict the rights of Tisaian citizens. Immigrants were hunted and imprisoned in camps before they were deported into the Wastelands. The Biomass that powers the very lecture hall you sit in was hoarded and kept within the Tisaian walls.” Professor Creo paused again, stopping at Terro’s row.

  “I’m sure you all heard I fought with the TDU. This is true. I do not normally announce this, but today’s class is unique,” he said with a slight grin. “Today you all get to meet Senator Spurious Timur.”

  At the back of the lecture hall a young man made his way slowly down the aisle. He removed his beret and carefully ran his hand through his short cropped hair, swiping a few loose strands back into place. A few students shuffled in their seats to get a better look.

  Professor Creo stiffened his back as Spurious approached. “Everyone, I want to introduce you all to the man that helped restore justice to Tisaia.”

  The lecture hall erupted into applause, students rising from their seats to recognize the Senator.

  Spurious stopped at the center of the room and stretched his hand to Professor Creo, before changing his mind and instead embracing him with a large hug.

  “Good to see you, Creo. Thank you for having me today,” Spurious said, turning back to the students. “I’m so glad to be with you all…”

  The hall grew silent.

  Spurious cracked a half-smile. “Being here brings back some fond memories. You know, it wasn’t long ago that I too was sitting in one of your seats. In fact, I think this is the one I often sat in,” he said, pointing at the chair next to Terro.

  “But I digress and unfortunately I have little time today. The legislature is meeting to vote on a new bill this afternoon. Which is why I am here.”

  Spurious took a step forward to face the center of the hall, scanning the young faces.

  “I’m sure most of you have heard of Bill 199, but for those that haven’t, listen up. I’ve worked out a deal with our newly sworn in Governor to share 25 percent of all Biomass with any surviving communities outside the great walls.”

  Applause echoed through the lecture hall, with one student whistling before a peer silenced him with an elbow to the ribs.

  Spurious waited for the commotion to die down before continuing. “Governor Susa has assigned Squad 19 of the newly minted Tisaian Knights to explore the Wastelands for survivors of the Biomass Wars. Any refugees will be brought to Tisaia; they’ll be housed, fed and supported until we can find work for them.”

  Another round of applause broke the silence and Terro stood, joining the rest of his classmates. It was the first time he’d ever seen Senator Spurious Timur and he wasn’t exactly sure what to think. The man was so young.

  “Before I leave I have one request of you. Someday you will be the leaders of Tisaia. When you are, do not forget wh
at Professor Creo has taught you—do not forget the revolution so many died fighting. If you remember anything may it be this…” Spurious took another glance at the empty chair next to Terro. “All governments are prone to corruption. The duty of youth—your duty—is to challenge greed and injustice when it arises, before it morphs into corruption.”

  The whine of a tree branch scraping the window followed the Senator’s words. For a few moments the classroom was silent, the students soaking in Spurious’ advice.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter. Terro watched him carefully, thoroughly impressed with his speech. In the past he’d doubted the stories about Spurious’ role in the revolution, but there was something about the man. He had a presence, just like Terro’s own father.

  “A little over a year ago I found this note. When I first read it I didn’t know what to think. It said my parents, who died in the revolution, were the founders of the TDU. This was days after I was told I had the ability to shape the future of Tisaia—to restore justice,” he said, his eyes shifting to the floor for a moment.

  “Seeing the empty seat next to this young man,” Spurious said, pointing towards Terro, “I am reminded that you are all in the same position as I was. You may not be fighting a revolution, but I can assure you, the world we live in has changed forever and safety will always need to be earned. So I leave you with the same words I was told in the streets of Rohania,” Spurious coughed and placed the note back in his breast pocket before turning back to the silent room.

  The young Senator cracked another half-smile and tucked his hands in his pockets. “You’re the future of Tisaia; you’ll shape the path of our country,” he finished.

  The room did not erupt into applause. Students did not stand and clap or whistle. They simply watched the Senator place his beret neatly over his hair and walk slowly past their rows and out of the lecture hall. His words continued to echo in their minds, playing on repeat like they had once done in Spurious’ own mind.