The Hunger Rebellion

by G F Cusack

  River was not having a good day. He’d lost communications with the helicopter he’d sent to the border and now he was having to visit the ports because one of the grain ships had been attacked. Normally River would’ve taken a helicopter to the port but the helicopter he kept on standby was the one he’d dispatched to the border. Reduced to driving, he’d now been travelling in a convoy for the last six hours.

  As soon as he’d been notified of the trouble at the port, he’d sent reinforcements. With a security system that was woefully overstretched, his reinforcements had been nowhere near enough. The masses had overwhelmed the grain ship and he’d needed to deploy a gunship to prevent his reinforcements from being overrun.

  Official Company food supplies in the Sanctuary were dwindling faster by the day. He had requested that the council increase the supplies but had received no replies. The rumours of black-market profiteering from the elites were running rampant. Other rumours were that the masses were being given food supplies freely. Someone was stoking resentment against the Company and setting themselves up as the saviour. All this and the breakdown in communications with the border post were giving River a headache.

  Having seen the fate of his predecessor, he knew that Brand required rapid results. Determining that he needed to take drastic action, he’d deployed his specialist troops.

  The specialist troops were known for their brutality and the people had started calling them the thug squad. Made up of rejects from other teams, in any traditional unit these people would have been sent to the gel plants for insubordination or overzealous violence. River had decided instead to deploy them and let them feed their base instincts. In areas of raised unrest, he sent them in to quash any thoughts of rebellion.

  River had to be careful not to let them injure too many of the workers because the elites would not accept lower productivity on the farms or in the processing plants. All the same, there was plenty of the poor to go around so the elites would overlook the loss of some through brutality, within reason.

  Lacking the finesse of his predecessor, River used a strategy to keep the peace that was actually counterproductive. Reports from areas where the thug squad had been deployed showed they had made the locals more irate and resolute.

  Traditionally the masses were compliant at checkpoints, having learnt to work within boundaries, but now they were pushing back in these areas. Constant punishment for no reason created confusion and removed the deterrents against fighting back.

  A certain look was developing in the eyes of these people – a look of desperation as though they had nothing to lose. But it was too late for River to change strategies now. He had decided to double down, increasing both the day and night patrols in the Sanctuary. As a result, he had fewer reserves but more Company troops were on the street at any one time.

  Owing to the high value of grain shipments, the timetable and location of their arrival was a closely guarded secret. River wondered how the masses had found out about the shipment, but that was a problem for another day. His first priority today was to view the damage and see what could be salvaged from this disaster.

  Even from a distance, he could see the smoke still rising from the port. This was not a good sign.

  As they pulled in to the port area, he noticed that the sentries had their fingers on their triggers. These were his reinforcement squad as the original sentries had been overwhelmed.

  The squad had not had time to remove all of the bodies around the barrier. They had put the dead Company troops under cover but the rioters who had been shot or trampled in the riot remained strewn out in the open.

  At this time of year, the bodies were not going to rot and they would eventually be picked up and taken to the gel plants. His main focus was to confirm that the people presented no further threat. The clean-up could be sorted afterwards.

  River had only just entered the port area when his vehicle was flagged down by Greg, the leader of the reinforcements.

  “What have you got to report?” River had no time for pleasantries.

  “Sir, we seem to have returned order to the ports.”

  “Returned order,” River said, “and what do you think order looks like? Is it the sight of a grain ship smouldering in the harbour?”

  “I’m sorry sir but we had no choice,” Greg said. “We did not have enough troops to restrain the rioters. By the time we arrived, the masses had overrun the guards at the port. They were on board the grain ship, helping themselves to the contents and we had no way to retake it.”

  “You are telling me that heavily armed soldiers couldn’t have scared off some unarmed idiots by firing a few rounds in the air?”

  “No sir, this was not just a few people. Several thousand rioters had stormed the boat. Some fell in the water in the rush to climb on board but the others showed no mercy to them. These people are starving. How they found out about the grain ship, I don’t know, but when we arrived it was a disaster. The boat was covered in feral people. It was all my troops could do to defend ourselves.”

  River knew that it had been out of their control but he wanted the man to expend all of his excuses before he responded.

  “We put up a barricade to keep them away from the gates,” Greg continued, “but in reality they just wanted to stay and gorge themselves on the grain. The sound of bullets did not faze them so, rather than trying to drive them off, the only thing to do was to let them stay on the boat.”

  “Yes, I got the report from the gunship,” River said. “It was I who gave the orders to fire and sink the boat. This was a valuable shipment and the council is not going to be happy. Can you give me a reason why I should not relieve you of command and send you to the gel plants?” Like any Company commander, River was looking for a scapegoat.

  Greg seemed to think before he spoke. “I was low on troops and I was low on resources. We have had many convoys of arms and ammunition intercepted recently. With a shortage of bullets for our troops, the choices were to sacrifice our soldiers for a boat-load of grain that was already lost or to sacrifice the grain and have troops left to fight another day.”

  River knew this was true but he couldn’t show weakness. He could not show that he was resigned to this situation as well. “I will deal with you later. For now, get some trucks in here and see how many bodies that we can recover to the gel plants. The more gel we can supply, the less chance we’ll have of more starving rioters.”

  Although it was obviously not a lack of food driving these issues, River couldn’t admit this openly to his troops. Keeping control of the masses was hard enough but keeping control of his troops if they believed that he’d already lost control would be almost impossible.

  The scene at the ship was one of absolute devastation. The shells from the gunship had made the boat sink fast. Overloaded with people as it had been, they also had no chance of escape, especially with the gunship strafing at anyone who managed to swim free.

  River looked at the bodies half burnt and half drowned in the water, like something out of a nightmare. It seemed as if some people had almost managed to crawl out of the water but now had huge holes where their faces should have been. The gunship’s high-velocity bullets made a mess of a body.

  An acrid smell of burning flesh hung in the air, from where the phosphorus shells had turned the metal into a molten mess and the people on board with it. Even if they did manage to recover some of the corpses, River doubted much would be left over that would be useful for the gel plants. He was no expert on the process but the bodies seemed to have little value now that most of the liquid was evaporated from them.

  River spent an hour walking through the debris taking notes so that he could not only produce a detailed report but also work out how he could shift the blame to the ship’s crew.

  In his mind, he saw Smit prone in Brand’s office with his blood forming a lake over the floor. This was not the fate that River wanted for himself.

  After reviewing the situation at the ports, he determined th
at his time would be better spent investigating the situation at the border than travelling in a convoy for six hours back to the capital.

  He had the refuelled gunship land on the side of the jetty to pick him up. He was accompanied by two dozen of his specialist squad. Tactically they weren’t well versed but in brutality they were unmatched. If he faced an issue at the border, these men were expendable.

  Within an hour, they were approaching the border compound. From above, nothing looked out of the order. The helicopter he’d sent in advance was sitting on the landing pad, seemingly intact. So if it had landed, why had they lost contact?

  Thumbing the microphone for his headset, River said, “Hello, Recce squad one, this is Blue leader. Is everything okay, over? I see you on the landing pad but have not heard back from you. Confirm this message, over.”

  No reply. As they got slightly lower, River noticed that none of the antennae for the compound was intact. Perhaps some kind of storm had taken them out, but these weren’t broken masts – they looked to have been destroyed at their base. Something was wrong here.

  He shouted to the pilot, “Do not land here. I want you to hover but keep at a safe distance. We need to see what is going on before we get any closer.”

  “Hello, Blue leader,” came a crackly voice over the radio. “Do you read me, over?”

  River was pleased to hear someone at last. He needed to confirm who it was but at least this was progress. The voice again came over the radio. “This is Recce squad one. Something is interfering with communications in the area. We are safe and well, over.”

  The voice on the radio was Tom’s, the leader of Frank’s rear guard. Initially his ruse seemed to be working.

  Although River didn’t know everyone’s voices, he knew the name of his pilot was Dempsey and he decided to test the voice. “Hello Recce one, if this is the pilot, please confirm your name, over.”

  “Cwrzsasdd wdffffffff.” The reply was garbled and impossible to understand. Was it a mechanical problem or a ruse to draw them in closer? River needed more information. They couldn’t just leave now, but he was also cautious about landing. He could see his helicopter out in the open and it looked okay from this distance, but where were his troops? Not hearing the name Dempsey over the radio worried him.

  Frank had left Tom with a contingent of forty fighters. They had expected Company at some stage and, although the rebels weren’t large in numbers, they had captured quite an arsenal when they occupied this place. The border post was equipped with heavy weaponry designed to take out who knew what. Perhaps the Company had expected some kind of heavy truck to charge the compound.

  Whatever the original purpose, Tom now controlled the weaponry and he decided using it was his only chance to take out this gunship.

  If they could stop the gunship from communicating with other garrisons, it would buy them more time. The longer it took the Company to send reinforcements, the more time the resistance had to enact their plan and the better their chances of success.

  Tom had tasked four of his fighters to take the shoulder-mounted rocket launchers to the roofs. They were to remain under cover until he gave the signal to fire.

  As soon as Tom realised that the gunship was not going to come any closer, he decided the best option was to act now and use the element of surprise. He raised his arm and the signal was relayed to the rooftops. No radios were used to avoid the signal being intercepted by the gunship but hand signals were enough to get all four rockets fired at once.

  The pilot noticed the first flash as River spotted the others. “Get out of here, get out of here,” River shouted over the radio.

  The pilot had logged many flight hours. Although he’d previously only been fired on by the odd rifle or pistol, he was fully aware of the danger. “Hold on tight,” he shouted, pulling back on the stick to take the gunship straight upwards.

  All four of the projectiles missed the gunship but the explosion of the last one was close enough to create a shock wave that made the pilot’s flight harder. He did not wait for orders but headed away from the border to create a safe distance between his ship and these missiles.

  Tom knew he had missed his chance here. All the same, their quiet capture of the first helicopter had been more than they’d expected.

  Although this rear guard wasn’t a suicide mission, it was still very dangerous. All of his fighters were volunteers, chosen as they were all single men with no families. Unlike some of the people in the convoys who’d formed couples and conceived the odd child, Tom’s men had only themselves to live for.

  They’d spent their whole lives in survival mode. If their actions helped the rebels’ plans to succeed, it could change their lives forever. If they died here, at least they had chosen their own fates and where to make a stand.

  “Back to the capital, head back to the capital now!” River shouted, shaken. The image of the burning wreck of the boat was still seared into his memory; the realisation that they had come close to the same fate in this gunship was almost too much for him.

  He was not prepared to take any further risks. He could feel the anger and fear among the others in the gunship. Their anger was because they had just been fired at and weren’t allowed to fire back. Their fear, because they were used to outnumbering and being better armed than their prey.

  Encountering somebody that they couldn’t beat with clubs and who could kill them without them having a chance to raise a hand made them feel smaller. Like most bullies, when confronted by force, they experienced fear.

  River considered ordering the gunship to pass back over the compound and open fire but the risks were just too high. He had to go back and regroup. He had a report to write and there was every chance he was going to be summoned to Brand. What he was going to say and how he was going to squirm out of this, he had no idea. What he did know was that danger lay in his future.

  46

  The rebels rendezvous with Hook

  26 September 2202

  Frank and the rebels had been hiding near the port for the last two days. They’d salvaged what winter clothes and stores they could from the Company compound but had left enough supplies for the rear guard to survive for an extended period. Frank hoped that by joining forces with the resistance, they could start the rebellion before the Company sent reinforcements to the border compound.

  Even If his plan succeeded, his people at the compound would not receive relief for some time. They may have escaped the danger of bullets and bombs but, as winter was setting in, the main threat was starvation.

  Some emergency supplies were available at the border: gel packs in the freezers and some small crops in greenhouses. This wouldn’t have been enough for the original number of Company troops manning the garrison but It should last his rear guard a good while.

  After allocating reserves for his rear guard, they had pillaged the majority of the compound’s food and fuel. With over five hundred people to keep alive though, Frank’s reserves were dwindling and they needed new supplies.

  Zap and Flo had been communicating regularly. Although it had been agreed that the rebels would join the resistance, they first had to find a way of getting over to the island on which the Sanctuary was located.

  There were far too many people to carry on one or several small boats. Flo had informed Frank that the resistance had connections in the shipping ports so they were currently relying on their help in this matter.

  Tonight was the scheduled rendezvous with one of the resistance leaders. From the description they’d been given of this man, Frank was fairly confident that he would stand out. His distinguishing feature was that he had a hook for a hand – which would be hard to fake.

  Emerging from where they’d been waiting in the shadows, three men came walking towards the lead vehicle. Frank had positioned sentries ahead so, to have got this far, the men must already have been stopped by at least two of his guards.

  All three of the men carried backpacks but no visible weapons; his fighters
had been ordered to relieve them of any weapons before this meeting point. As they came closer, even in the rain, Frank could see the glint of the metal of the leader’s hook.

  Just to speed things up, Frank approached the men, flanked by Debs, Pepper, Eric and two other fighters. All of the rebels carried the standard silenced pistols and two fighters on top of the truck shouldered rifles. The rifles were a last resort as Frank didn’t want rifle fire echoing through the night so close to the port.

  The two groups stopped ten feet apart.

  “I have been given a password,” Hook said, “and I assume that you have the other half. The fact that we are here at this time of night makes it doubtful any of us are not the people we expect to meet. But just to give us all a warm feeling of security: there are fifteen boats in the water and there are fifteen trucks in the port.”

  Frank smiled and replied, “Fifteen boats plus fifteen trucks equals a hundred.” He thought it sounded a bit childish when you said it out loud but Zap and Flo had decided on the code words. The truth was that it was pretty smart as the chances of somebody working out that fifteen plus fifteen equalled a hundred was very low.

  Hook offered his good hand to Frank, partly as a sign of good faith but also because it left his razor sharp hook available if he needed a weapon.

  Frank took his hand and shook it. “I’m Frank. My people have been waiting here for two days. Are we all set?”

  “Yes,” Hook said. “If we try to go through the front gates, the size of your force will attract too much attention. Instead, we can use a hole I have in the fence that is guarded by some of my people.”

  “What do your people do?” Frank asked curiously.

  “I guess you could say that we redistribute things from the port.”

  “Smugglers and thieves,“ Frank said. “We are in good company.”

  Not sure if this was an attempt at humour, Hook replied, “I understand you stole the odd things from the border compound, including the lives of the people there.”