Creators (A Contributor Trilogy prequel novella)

by Nicole Ciacchella

  Contents

  Title Page

  Books by Nicole Ciacchella

  Dedication

  Quote

  Desolation

  Conference

  Evening

  Ranking

  Numbers

  Data

  Protest

  Security

  Knowledge

  Unrest

  Vow

  Strategy

  Evacuation

  Good-bye

  Flight

  Dome

  Excerpt from Contributor

  A Note from Nicole

  Dystopian and Post-Apocalyptic Books by Nicole

  Fantasy Novels by Nicole

  Fairy Tale Books by Nicole

  Romantic Comedies by Nicole

  About the Author

  Book Description

  Copyright

  Creators

  A Prequel Novella to the YA Post-Apocalyptic Contributor Trilogy

  by Nicole Ciacchella

  Books by Nicole Ciacchella

  Astoran Asunder, a Fantasy Series

  A House Divided, book 1

  Catalyst, book 2

  Court of Illusion, book 3

  Web of Deceit, book 4

  Reckoning, book 5

  Contributor, a Dystopian Trilogy

  Creators, a prequel novella

  Contributor, book 1

  Infiltrator, book 2

  Instigator, book 3

  Fairytale Collection

  The Eye of the Beholder (Beauty and the Beast retold)

  Asleep (Sleeping Beauty reimagined)

  From the Ashes (Cinderella reimagined)

  Romantic Comedies

  Phoning It In

  Committed (an 8-episode serial)

  Derailed

  Starstruck

  Prejudice, Persuasion, and Sensibility

  For Keira and Ethan. I couldn't imagine my life without you. Always reach for the stars.

  How can you put out a fire set on a cartload of firewood with only a cup of water?

  - Chinese Proverb

  Desolation

  They were losing the war, this much was obvious. Standing and surveying the fields, Zhang Liang swallowed against the lump in his throat. As far as the eye could see, the crops were dying. Liang crouched and grabbed a handful of earth, feeling his own impotence as it trickled through his fingers. It was so depleted it could no longer sustain life, as evidenced by the dessicated plant stalks waving forlornly in the hot breeze. No matter how much they tinkered with it, Zhang Agritech Systems was unable to successfully replace nutrients in the soil.

  Wiping his hand on his thigh, Liang stumbled over to a vivid green patch. In a blind rage, he began yanking plants out, feeling a vicious sense of satisfaction as he tore their roots from the earth. Even so, he knew it was an empty gesture. No matter how valiantly the corn and soybeans fought, they were helpless against the onslaught of the virulent pigweed, horseweed, and countless other so-called superweeds.

  A sudden pressure on his shoulder reminded Liang that he wasn't alone, and he looked up into the sober gaze of Anya Ragulski, his second-in-command.

  "The collectives are no longer viable," she told him, her voice so soft it was almost lost in the drone of machinery trying desperately to provide enough water, enough of a precise chemical cocktail to support the crops needed to feed millions.

  "But without the collectives…" Liang began, but the thought was too horrible to contemplate, and the words died in his throat.

  "There will be widespread famine," Anya finished, sounding so collected that Liang stared up at her, caught between horror and admiration that she could remain so calm. However, as he studied her face, he realized there were tears in her eyes, that her expression was rigid.

  "Maybe we just need more hands. We could institute another selection process, bring more field workers into the collectives. There are more than enough candidates," Liang suggested, the words falling out of his mouth faster and faster, as he attempted to cling to this one last surge of hope.

  Just this morning, throngs of people had stood outside the secure, electrified, razor-wire topped gates of the collective, their starved faces staring avidly at his armored motorcade as it glided by on nearly silent electric motors. Though life in the collectives involved a great deal of grueling, back-breaking labor, its workers went to bed with a full belly every night, something about which many people could only dream. The first ten years after the launch of the collectives had been rough because it had been so difficult to find people willing to spend hour after hour toiling in the blazing sun, but conditions on the outside had deteriorated to the point that there were now more people desperate to work the collectives than there were jobs.

  "If we increase the number of hands, we won't be able to provide them with food in exchange for work, let alone supply those who don't work the collective," Anya reminded him, her patient tone cracking around the edges. She'd told him this already, but the knowledge refused to enter his head. The more he tried to accept reality, the more his brain fought to reject it.

  "Then why did you bring me here?" Liang was unable to keep the bitterness from his voice as he pulled himself up from the ground.

  "Because I knew you had to see it." Anya studied him with an unwavering gaze until he turned from her, yanking his protective goggles from his face and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. She was right; he wouldn't have believed numbers on a report, would have rejected the graphs and projections.

  After several moments during which Liang stared unseeingly at the hands toiling at their fruitless labors, Anya spoke. "We knew this day was coming. You know we've done all we can, Liang. Our scientists have been working around the clock—but I'm not telling you anything you don't know. You've seen the data. You know how many of them have collapsed from exhaustion, how many have had cardiac episodes due to the stress."

  Unable to speak, he simply nodded in acknowledgment of her words. Yes, he'd seen the data, but how could anyone be expected to process the beginning of the end of life as they knew it?

  "I know this is difficult for you. It's difficult for all of us. And I know you don't want to hear this, but you have to think like your father. You have to separate the emotional from the practical."

  A bolt of anger shot through him and he clenched his fists, trying hard not to turn and scream at her. Anya had known him since the day he was born. She had become Chief Science Officer after the post had been vacated by her father, who had served as Liang's grandfather's CSO. In some ways, the people who contributed to Zhang Agritech Systems were more of a family to him than his own blood had been.

  "You sound just like him when you say things like that," he managed to mutter, regaining control over the frayed edges of his temper.

  "I know you two had your differences," Anya said carefully, "but you haven't always been fair to your father. Circumstances made him what he was. You can't blame him for that."

  Liang decided not to bother getting into a circular argument with her. The more he tried to convince her he was angry not because of the circumstance surrounding his father's tenure, but because of the way in which his father had reacted to those circumstances, the more she would defend Bao. Though Liang respected Anya, though he held a deep affection for her and all she'd done to contribute to his upbringing, the two of them would never see eye to eye when it came to Bao. Liang's father had scorned his son's compassionate nature, and Liang had wholeheartedly rejected his father's cold, clinical practicality.

  "I thought it would take six more months to finish the dome," Liang said, changing the
subject.

  Anya sighed but didn't protest. "We've added more shifts, hired more skilled laborers. At this pace, we should complete the dome within three months."

  "We've only ever run the prototypes. How do we know this will work?"

  "We don't." Her voice was flat, startling him. A light went out of her eyes. "We just have to take our chances. There's no other way."

  A million arguments rose to his tongue but, glancing at his watch, he saw that they would be late for the meeting if they didn't hurry. Anya noticed the gesture and nodded tersely.

  "I'll call for the motorcade," she said, turning and walking a short distance away from him. He saw her tap her ear and then begin to murmur, too low to hear. He was grateful to her for giving him the chance to collect himself.

  Taking a deep breath, he replaced his goggles and tugged his cuffs straight. There was a smudge of dirt on his right thigh from where he'd rubbed his hand against it, but there was nothing for that now.

  I hardly think how I'm dressed will matter much as I sit with the other Creators and discuss the impending apocalypse.

  Conference

  Biotechnologie du Clerc's conference room was more like a museum than a meeting space. Liang tried to avert his eyes from the holographic models of the inner workings of the human body. He wasn't normally squeamish, but something about this Creator always made him feel like he ran the risk of being assaulted by a team of white-coated physicians, who would pin him to the table and begin dissecting him.

  From his place at the massive, oblong table, he surveyed the other conference participants. All of the major Job Creators from the Midwestern region were represented, as were a few of the minor Creators. Nervous chatter filled the room, and he caught several people glancing covertly at him. Given the increasing number of food shortages they'd experienced over the last several months, it didn't surprise Liang that some of them might already have an inkling of the purpose of this meeting.

  "I'd like to call this conference to order." The lightly accented voice of Sylvie du Clerc floated out over the room and, almost immediately, all chatter died down. Liang had long envied her this innate ability to control a crowd.

  "We are here today to discuss the threat to the food supply," Sylvie said, her voice soft as usual. It was impossible to know if she was putting things so mildly because she was trying to avoid placing the blame on Zhang Agritech or because she was trying to maintain an aura of calm in the room.

  "Don't you mean collapse?" a terse voice interjected. The speaker was Ishani Desai, the Chief Executive of Desai Nanotechnology. Ten years ago, Bao had tried working with Desai to develop technology for the collectives, but the partnership had been fraught from the start and had garnered nothing of any use.

  "Collapse may not be the most appropriate—" Sylvie began, but Liang cut her off.

  "While I appreciate your tact, Sylvie, Ishani is right, we are on the verge of collapse," he said. There were some murmurs, and several other Job Creators eyed him a bit speculatively. It was rather unusual for any of them to admit to their own shortcomings, but Liang didn't care. They could no longer afford to operate by the old codes of behavior.

  "But you've reported some very promising improvements in your hydroponic technologies," another Creator protested.

  Nodding, Liang said, "With Magnum's invaluable assistance, we have been able to improve our technology. But as you all doubtless remember from my last report, even with an increase in yield, we simply cannot provide enough food to supply all of the Midwestern Alliance."

  "What about Zhang's other North American alliances, or Zhang Panamerica?" Keiko Nakamura asked. "Haven't they had increased yields lately?"

  "It is true that the collectives in some other parts of the world have had more success than the collectives here, mainly due to better water supply and less soil depletion, but the net effect is not enough to provide an adequate supply on a global scale," Liang responded.

  Quiet settled over the room for a moment as the other Creators digested this information. Some of their faces were accusatory, others resigned. He resented the accusatory glances. Zhang Agritech wasn't any more to blame for the collapse of the food system than anyone else. Though they had all been working desperately, attempting to reverse hundreds of years of abuse, it had been too little too late. Everyone in the room knew that every last Creator shared some responsibility.

  "Then our only option is to begin activating the domes," Ishani concluded.

  Sylvie nodded. "That is the consensus being reached across the globe. Has everyone stepped up their construction?"

  "We have, but severe weather has hampered our efforts," Myles Christoff, Magnum's Chief Executive, said.

  "Yes, I know you've been plagued by a series of tornadoes," Sylvie replied. "If you require additional assistance, the Alliance will supply it. As we have agreed, we are all in this together. No dome will be declared fully operational until every other dome is ready."

  "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I was led to believe that the dome technology was still untested on anything larger than a prototype scale," a minor Creator spoke up, looking around meekly as if waiting for the major Creators to pounce all over him. "What are the risks of enacting this technology now without running more scaled testing?"

  "We don't have time to do more scaled testing," Sylvie said bluntly. The other Creator's face blanched, and Liang could see he was not the only one who looked uncomfortable. Despite Sylvie's formidable presence, murmurs began to sweep through the room.

  "I'm sorry, I think my numbers may be off," interjected another minor Creator. "During our last meeting, we were told a total of thirty domes were being built, and that each dome could support a maximum population of 250,000 people. The current population of the Midwestern region is…"

  "We are aware of the current population of the Midwestern region," Sylvie interrupted. Her voice was calm and her gaze was steely as she surveyed the room. "When we met last, we talked a great deal about maximizing our resources, if you'll recall. I called you all here today so we could begin laying out plans for how we will go about evaluating our resources over the course of the next several weeks."

  "Wait, maximizing resources… You don't mean that we're going to have some sort of a…what…selection process?"

  "Yes, that's exactly what I mean."

  Silence fell over the room as the Creators all looked at one another. Liang felt what could only be described as a sense of abject horror. For the last two years, ever since he had finished his formal schooling, he had thrown himself into researching ways to make the collectives more effective. He had tried to trick himself into believing that the solution was out there and that, if he could just find it, there would be no need to resort to desperate measures.

  Of course, his father's attention to the reality of the situation was partially what had allowed Liang this luxury. He knew that now. It was the one act of kindness his father had tried to commit for him, the one step he had taken toward trying to protect his son, and it had all been pointless. Though Liang knew no one could have predicted the accident that took Bao's life and thrust his son into the position of CEO at the unheard of age of nineteen, the thought brought him little comfort. It was far too bitter to think that the one time his father had exerted himself to be a father to Liang, his efforts were all in vain.

  "How can we pull something like that off?" The voice came from the back of the room, from a minor Creator who was customarily silent, but now the woman's face was twisted in anger, distorting her features. "Do you honestly think people will just stand back and wave farewell as we lock them out of the domes and into the wasteland? Have you come up with any contingencies for this particular aspect of your little plan?"

  Liang was taken aback by the scorn in the woman's voice, and it was obvious Sylvie was as well. What surprised him even more, though, was Sylvie's reaction. He expected her to become as cold as ice and cut the other woman down to size but, instead, she sighed and rubbed her temples. S
he looked utterly defeated, driving home once more the dire nature of the situation.

  "The public will be told that we are running another scaled study of the domes. Key staff will move in first, and the remaining staff will move in three waves. There will be no public announcements of the move-in dates. The presses will report bogus figures for the study we're supposedly conducting. Movement in and out of the domes will be severely restricted, and there will be constant controls to ensure both compliance and safety," Sylvie said.

  "You can't just lock everyone else out and leave them to starve," the other woman insisted.

  Sylvie rose, slamming her hands down on the conference table and leaning aggressively over it, challenging her opponent. "Do you have a better suggestion? Have you come up with some innovation of which we're unaware? If so, now is the time for sharing."

  "No, we haven't, as you well know. But if you think you can just make those kinds of decisions—"

  "Let me make something crystal clear to you," Sylvie interrupted, her words crackling across the room. "We are talking about the survival of the human race. Is this a perfect solution? Of course not. But it's our only solution. You heard what Liang has to say. We do not have the technology necessary to feed everyone on Earth.

  "What do you think would happen if we simply stopped feeding people? Do you think everyone would just remain docile, sitting in their homes and watching their children starve to death? I imagine our security forces will be put to very good use when we're in the final stages of populating the domes and can no longer hide the shortages. But if you think the reaction will be any worse than what would happen if we didn't save at least some people, then I think you're delusional."

  The other woman shook visibly as she clenched her fists and stared at Sylvie with a murderous glare, but she didn't protest any further. No one did. They all knew what Sylvie was saying was true, regardless of how much they might all wish it wasn't.