Jasper was usually a man of few words, and today was no different. He grew up with Jacob’s father, into their days working together on countless engineering projects. When Jacob’s old man passed, something about his demeanor changed and all these years later, it remained altered. He became silent and withdrawn. Jasper was a hard worker and great at what he did, but wasted no time or effort with pleasantries with anyone, including Jacob.
After he served his mandatory five in Engineering and his five in Recycling alongside Harvard Niles, both then immediately reenlisted to work the rest of their days in Engineering, until one of their days was brought to an unceremonious end, changing the survivor of the duo forever.
Despite the obvious emotional burden he carried, day after day Jasper would wake up, don his protective Nu-Skin, and march from his studio in Zone 7 to silently build annex after annex. Jacob found it odd that a man of Jasper’s age, work history, and green ethics did not live in at least Zone 9, the highest living zone in the annexes, with access to the most extravagant shops, foods, and goods. He could likely have saved enough gredits to move into an even higher zone in Central, a place where the Centruppers, the most resourceful of citizens of the ‘Haus, lived. Most citizens just zipped through these zones in a blur on their way to the hospitality level or dreamed about living there someday.
Instead, Jasper opted for personal trips aboard the Bullet to other Greenhaus colonies. The Newer Orleans, New Denver, and New Chicago colonies were among his favorite destinations and he visited them whenever he accrued enough free time or got far enough ahead of demand to slip away for a couple days.
Jacob on the other hand, had only been aboard the Bullet one time as a kid, when his father brought him to Newer Orleans on an emergency work trip. While one load of supplies was dropped and he waited for the next, Jacob looked over at Jasper, who was inventorying the fresh drop. Jacob thought about engaging him in conversation, but instead let his mind drift to the day he rode the Bullet. He vividly remembered the elevator ride to the top. It was near dusk and the clear glass tube sucked them quickly from Zone 1, the floor level, to Zone 15, the highest level not only in Central, but the entire ‘Haus and the jump off point for all inter-colonial travel. The gold colored signs were bright and invited the eyes to stare. The hint of blue cast upon everything by the dome brightened in proportion to the darkening sky.
Stepping off the elevator onto the deck, something as simple as taking a few strides, became quite the task. Having never been that high, it was hard to get used to seeing the ground so far away through the elevator floor and it froze him in place. His father pulled him from the elevator, and had to balance carrying their bags and pulling the bewildered child, so taken aback by the sights and sounds of Hospitality that he stumbled around in a state of intoxication, continually getting separated from his father.
After checking in at the glass help desk, the father and son duo grabbed a snack at the traveler’s lounge while the world outside the ‘Haus went black. The colors inside came alive. In addition to the cool blue light from the glowing dome above, the wires running through the crannies all around them lit up the exterior. The dull glow the electricity exhibited during the day seemed almost fluorescent at night; the current flowed like water through the wires and over the top of the domed ceilings.
Jacob remembered how he loved running the catwalk above Zone 15 and how he returned to Hospitality many times to do just that. Watching the blue current race through the dome above him and through the lines all around the perimeter became his favorite pastime, he spent many a lonely day this way after his father’s passing. Reminiscing about the time he came here with his father, watching the Bullets come and go.
He followed the current back and forth countless times while he waited for the Bullet to pick them up that day. Stopping in the middle when the viewing tube was unoccupied, to take a look at the beauty of the life living within the Gardens so many zones below him. Beneath him was a bustling city, and he watched the people go to and fro as he cruised the catwalk. Jacob took much delight in the whooshing noise the circular doors made when he triggered their opening, then running through them and listening to them close, making the same noise in reverse.
Of all the things he saw that day, nothing made a lasting impression like seeing the Tesla Coils from above for the first time. The immensity of the giant coils, sitting atop the tall, thick rods and steel frame support, was something that could only be appreciated from so high. The massive metallic sphere that sat atop the coil buzzed with energy running up the length of the coil before stopping at the sphere. Sparks arced off the top, waiting for something to stray into range so it could quickly make acquaintance and just as quickly say goodbye. Time and time again, the arcs angrily returned first back to the sphere, then down the coil, and finally back to the lines where they tirelessly ran until power down made them vanish.
Despite all the unique visual stimuli; the colors, the frightening heights, the coils, Jacob could not forget the anticipation of traveling for the first time. After hearing the whistle to board, Jacob put on his G-suit and strapped into his chair, where he became antsy, squirming to get a look. He hated the shackles on his wrists and ankles and the restraints that bound his torso just as much as the brace that steadied his neck and head, because it made him feel helpless. Once all the other passengers were strapped in, a loud horn bellowed and an automated voice came over an intercom, instructing passengers on what to expect as the Bullet rolled slowly out of the station. After the instructions finished, the Bullet stopped.
The G force created by the start up was a thrill unlike any other he had experienced and erased his disdain for his constraints. His stomach felt like it was floating, he could feel the skin on his face pull back. The constraints may have been unnecessary, it was hard enough to blink an eye, let alone move his limbs, the G force prevented it. He wanted to turn away, to watch the blue glow of the ‘Haus disappear after takeoff, but the velocity of the speeding Bullet prevented all movement. The thrill was not one he would experience again, though he often thought about traveling more, he really had no good reason to do so, opting instead to stack his credits.
His reminiscing was interrupted by the loud clanging of the newly arrived materials. Bundles of steel used to form the framework were lowered onto the scaffolding, where they would await attachment. Jasper shuffled down to the end of the beam, taking full precaution so as not to slip. He positioned the piece of steel, aligning the holes between the crossbeam on which they were standing and the tall curved beam that formed the wedge they were filling in. After attaching the bolts necessary to stabilize the metal, Jacob moved in and welded a bead at each of the four contact points to give added stability as Jasper moved to place the next piece of steel.
The process would have to be repeated again and again for the next three days. Hundreds of tiny triangular shapes were made, before stabilizing cross beams were affixed across the top of them and the process was repeated until the entire wedge was finished.
As usual, the pair made fast progress, their production far exceeding the daily demand set by the Sustainability Charts. After surveying their work, Jacob and Jasper silently looked at each other and signaled to the cranes for more supplies, then looked beneath them at their fellow workers doing their best to keep up.
The glass workers were always a level behind the metalworkers. Eventually they would attach panes of glass on both sides of the triangular shapes Jacob and Jasper were building, forming the area where the electricity would safely flow once the annexation was completed.
Both jobs required great precision. Daydreams and the pranks that occurred at ground level and during downtime aside, Jacob knew the importance of his job, and though he sped through the process at times, care was always taken to do the job correctly.
Jacob had always been that way. He fully believed in the mission the Founding Father laid out in the Green Constitution, inheriting this work ethic from his father. Though he never fully bel
ieved the story of his father’s death, Jacob always performed double and triple checks on his harness before ascension. His father’s death scarred him, but also spurred him to follow in his father’s footsteps as an annex builder, believing he too could make a difference for so many.
It is also why, up to this point, he had not sought the thrill aboard the Bullet that he experienced as a child. After he returned home from Newer Orleans with his father, he spent the last six days of his father’s life with him, observing him at work. Or in walks through the Gardens. Trips to Recycling. Where ever his father went, Jacob shadowed his hero.
Jacob remembered being fast asleep, but ready to join him on day seven, but his father was called away from his usual duties into another emergency job in Newer Orleans. Jacob never forgot the morning his father left for the last time. On his way to fix a section in the Newer Orleans colony damaged by an Outsider attack, his father popped his head into the egg-shaped, closet sized sleeping chamber of his only child and said with great enthusiasm, “Hey there bucko, you awake?”
Jacob rubbed the crust from his eyes and sleepily responded, “Yeah, um, well, I am now. Are we leaving now?”
“Not this time little buddy, there is no room on the Bullet for extra passengers. This is an emergency, a new assignment,” he explained. “But your dear old dad has some free time coming up, and I will take you to any ‘Haus you want, when I return, okay?” The answer broke his heart, but also gave him something for which to look forward. Though the news hurt him, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as the days and nights he waited for his father to return. To this very day, Jacob felt that his father was alive, despite the known information presented to the contrary. He often woke at the slightest noise, hoping, thinking, praying to Mother Earth, that whatever noise disturbed his slumber, was his father finally returning and that finally, they could take their trip together.
Jacob never understood how a harness could just break. They were so strong and so well designed, it made no sense. He had never heard of it happening to anyone else in all the years of Greenhaus building and expansion. One of the few times Jasper could be coaxed into talking for an extended period was the mention of his former friend or the circumstances of his death.
Harvard Niles was a lifer in Zone 3 by choice. He was always using his gredits to help others because he loved his apartment there and had no ambition to move up to another zone, a move seen as an increase in status to those in the ‘Haus to whom these things mattered. When asked why he never wanted his family living quarters to rise above Zone 3 he would simply respond, “Because I am perfectly happy here, and I would never dare tempt an emotion like happiness.” Harvard loved the exterior unit of Annex 6, especially that they lived adjacent to the Gardens, a view that overlooked the constant budding of life and explosion of color. He thought of it as a residual gift to his family. Moving up a zone, there was no guarantee the view would be as good, since the relocation process was based on availability. They could be moved to the Perimeter, where color was nonexistent, outside the drab grays and browns of the nearby hillsides. Or even worse, stuck in the Mids, whose units had no views, except the guts and clutter of the ‘Haus.
The alarm for power down sounded, ending the Engineering crews workday. Rangers would scour the fields, searching disabled vehicles for Outsiders. Wipers would wash the exterior, while Jacob wondered what they could have possibly done to earn their fate, to spend their days keeping the glass clean, when it was so easy to just follow the rules. After deconning, Jacob’s work day was complete and he exited the chamber feeling like a new man, partly due to his cleansing, partly due to his release of tension his career decision had imparted. His 2nd Feet squished and squeaked the glass floor beneath him as he made his way home.
Jacob passed by his old apartment, something he often did even though it was out of his way. He liked to reminisce and see the old views from his childhood. In the back of his mind he hoped his father would return to their old apartment and Jacob would be there to greet him. Every time, he would taste the same disappointment, a feeling lessened somewhat by the incredible view of the Gardens below.
As much as he loved his childhood view, Jacob and his mother moved out and up to Zone 5 immediately after his father’s untimely passing. Their new view was terrible, just as his father always worried it would be. Jacob did not care though. Even as a kid he was keenly aware that although some things around the ‘Haus changed, really it all stayed the same. This day started the same as any other, he performed his job the same as he did every other day. The work day ended just like all the others, his duties complete when he finished the work laid out by the Sustainability Charts. He took the same route home, enjoyed his evening meal, and then settled himself into his sleeping chamber, just like every other day. But tomorrow would be different. He would turn in his paperwork, making his decision official. No longer would this cause him any consternation and he planned to sleep easy tonight.
As he laid his head down to sleep, he said his final prayer, one that he said every night as far back as he could remember. This prayer had a special meaning for him since his father died and the nightly wish that accompanied the prayer was always the same.
Mother Earth, Oh Mother Earth, how great your powers be.
Grant me, grant me this one wish, shine your grace on me.
When I rise in the morn’, whether not my plea fulfilled
Indebted to your bounty forever till my body’s chilled.
CHAPTER 4 (Ella Stone)
A rebellious flame burned hot inside Ella. This was not the first time, nor would it be the last that she defied a direct order from a superior. The fortress sat behind her, but the Stone minicamp was not her destination. She craved solitude, to be alone with her thoughts. To think. To try and figure out why the Elders wouldn’t attack, if for no other gain than to kill a couple Rangers. Try as she might, she couldn’t make sense of their inaction.
Her instincts guided her, Ella trusted them completely. They keyed her survival and hadn’t let her down thus far. Worn out boots and tired legs carried her in the direction of her lookout, but eventually Ella detoured. The Rangers could still have been on patrol and though she was incensed, she was not going to hand what was left of her life to them. She may have been shot down by Elders Stone and Ashe, but her spirit remained strong in its resolve to seek revenge.
Ella approached a ravine she had passed many times. She had stared into it and wanted to explore it, but never had the time. The banks were steep and rocky, so Ella descended cautiously, sliding on her back as her feet and hands held her weight.
To help keep herself sane during her extended time in isolation, Ella often thought of ways to seek the retribution she was owed. Every idea, however brilliant it may have seemed, ran into a roadblock somewhere in the conceptual stages, causing her to begin to wonder if her Elders ran into the same types of problems and if that could be the reason the camp hadn’t attacked.
She would love to bring down one of the massive coils, but that would require a coordinated effort with other Masked camps or a great deal of firepower, something she did not have in her arsenal. The explosives and weapons were guarded and doled out by the Elders; they surely were not giving any to a teen-aged short fuse like Ella.
Breaking through the glass would force the Oppressors into the same world that plagued the Masked. The toxic air rushing in would choke them and sting their lungs the same way it did when she removed her mask. The color and life within would fade and match the nearly empty landscape she was doomed to suffer. But the glass was double paned and thick, again requiring firepower she did not have access to. As such, she thought of other ways to collect the debt she was owed as she shimmied down the white rocky bank that was covered in the same dusty grime as the rest of her world.
She thought about attacking Rangers on patrol, using the bayonet taped around the end of her gun to stab and cut through their protective rubber suits, but surely the lot of them would overwhelm her with f
orce. Nothing legitimate came to her weary mind, staying up for the better part of three days had sapped her of her ability to think clearly. Maybe that had something do to with her fiery encounter with the Elders or maybe the rage was draining her, but either way she was tired. And though revenge was at the forefront of her mind, sleep is what she really needed.
Ella reached the bottom of the ravine and noticed water collected in small pools. The sky was dark and loud, the puddles would soon grow. She wandered and explored the area a bit more, sloshing through puddles until the ravine came to a dead end. A giant rusty valve sat atop the equally aged metal door that guarded the way through to the other side. It didn’t budge, and Ella didn’t have the time or the energy to fight it.
A series of concrete tunnels were situated on either side of the ravine. She moved closer to inspect them with caution, fearful they could be inhabited. Earth was mounded around the opening of the first tunnel, which was at one time blocked by an old steel gate, but was now attached by just one of the hinges, otherwise dangling. Someone in the past three centuries had discovered this before her, but it showed no signs of occupation at this point. Its original purpose was unknown to her, though she could tell it took great skill and a tremendous amount of labor to lay all the rock and concrete that formed the ravine. For now, Ella would utilize the tunnel to catch a quick nap.
Before entering, she examined the entrance and noticed that just behind its opening, the tunnel was partially collapsed. A quick yank brought the gate crashing loudly to concrete. If anyone was inside, her cover was surely blown, so she called out to the darkness, “Hellllllooo, anybody there?”
Greenhaus Part 1: A Storm Brews Page 4