“What do you think, boss?” Ajax whispered from behind.
“Follow me, we are here,” he said, heading towards the silhouette of the building.
Time: 12:05 p.m. February 24, 2071.
Location: Silo. The Wastelands
Spurious awoke from a terrible dream. It took a while for his eyes to adjust and for reality to set in. As soon as he saw the other soldiers he remembered. He remembered it all; Lana, the firefight, the march through the Wastelands, meeting the other TDU members and John. It didn’t take long before the horror slowly began to rise within him, a knot forming deep in his stomach. He lurched forward.
“Boss, he’s awake,” Ajax yelled from the corner of the small room.
Spurious sat up, his hand rubbing the lump on his face.
“I hope you slept well, because we have a lot of work to do. Take a few minutes to get your wits and then follow me to the table,” Obi said.
Spurious tried to listen, but his thoughts turned to Lana. He shook his head, hoping the act would stop the thoughts from penetrating his mind. But all it did was make his head throb more. He was hungry for air, needing it like a starving animal.
Obi and Ajax veered out of his way as he made his way for the door. He glanced at John and the other TDU members, who sat around a large table in the adjacent room. The door swung open and a brief flare of sunlight hit him in the eyes, bringing him to his knees. “Lana,” he whimpered, his hands shielding his eyes from the rare sunlight.
The world began to spin, pulling him into a trance. He choked and vomit exploded from his mouth before he collapsed to the dusty ground.
An hour had passed and Obi began to worry. He watched Juliana apply a warm rag to Spurious’ forehead as he lay staring at the ceiling blankly.
It was just as Obi had feared. The death of Lana had taken over his mind, and his grief was too much to handle.
“Damn, boss, what are we going to do? He looks like a zombie.” Ajax asked.
Obi didn’t respond. He sat in the corner of the room watching Spurious. He knew if he didn’t snap out of it soon they were going to have to leave him. The silo wouldn’t be safe for more than a few days. And in this state, he was going to be a travel liability.
“Screw it, we don’t have time for this,” Obi said under his breath. He dragged his chair across the room and positioned it next to Spurious’ bed.
“Spurious…” Obi paused, glancing over at Juliana and motioning for her to take a break. She smiled before retreating to the table with the others.
He leaned over Spurious and continued. “What I’m about to tell you, I have never told anyone.”
Obi shot a quick look over his shoulder to make sure none of his men were listening.
“The other night, when I saw you holding Lana, I had a flashback. It was a memory I haven’t had for years. Something I blocked because it hurt too much. When I was a child, my mother was shot by raiders. She died in my father’s arms, just like I watched Lana die in yours.”
Obi coughed and massaged his whiskers again, thinking of what to say next. “When I saw your anguish, your grief, I remembered why I joined the TDU. I did it, I think, for the same reasons your parents helped form it—for all of those people who can’t fight themselves; for the immigrants, the Rohanian’s, and the survivors dwelling beyond the walls.”
Silence filled the room and Obi watched Spurious for a reaction, any reaction, but the young man continued to stare at the ceiling.
“Spurious, we need you. We need you to help free Tisaia and restore the dream it was formed on, the dream of freedom. I know we’re asking a lot. But last night you asked me something. Do you remember what it was?”
Obi didn’t realize it, but Spurious was listening to him—listening to his voice; the soft, almost fragile tone caressing his eardrums, helping relieve some of his fear.
Spurious stirred, his eyes darting over to Obi and catching his gaze. “I remember,” he said, abruptly.
Obi stiffened, shocked at the spontaneous reaction.
“What do you need me to do?” Spurious asked quietly.
Obi scratched his whiskers again, silence washing over the room. He didn’t dare turn to the others now that Spurious was acknowledging him.
“We need your expertise on the tunnels. Specifically, we need you to help us review some maps. And…” Obi paused. “We need you to get us access to the tunnels beneath the CRK headquarters.”
“How am I supposed to give you access?” Spurious asked. Anya would have already reported him to the CRK and a team of Knights would be tearing his flat apart.
Spurious forgot about his AI and apartment as a hand tugged on his shoulder. “We know you have had extensive access to maps of the tunnels under Tisaia. Obviously, we’re interested in these maps, especially those of the tunnels connecting to the catacombs under the CRK headquarters. Your SGS clearance should give you admission to these tunnels. Even if it has been revoked we can reprogram the card, plant our explosives and escape.”
Spurious closed his eyes.
So this is what Leo meant.
“Once the CRK headquarters has been destroyed, the Governor will not be able to prevent an uprising. Tisaia will rise to our cause. I can assure you, Rohania is full of TDU supporters and there are hundreds of them in Lunia as well. We’ll then focus our attack on the guards at the immigrant camps. Behind those barbed wire fences lays an army waiting for this opportunity, and has been for a while,” Obi said, pausing to catch his breath.
Spurious gazed up at Obi’s face. Scars lined the man’s aged skin. Dark circles rimmed his eyes. He looked broken, signs of a soldier fighting for far too long, but something in his face was also trustworthy. Maybe it was his kind eyes, or perhaps his convincing voice. There was also the silver cross he wore around his neck. It was the same shape of the cross Spurious had bought from the antique store in the East Village a few years back. Which meant Obi was a religious man, in a world where it had all but been forgotten. This intrigued Spurious. Whatever it was about the man, he trusted him and knew his parents would want him to help the plan succeed.
This was the life chosen for me.
Chapter 13: The Biomass Revolution
“Revolutions are the locomotives of history.”
Time: 5:01 p.m. February 24, 2071.
Location: Silo. The Wastelands
Obi stared at several maps spread out over a large wooden table in the basement of the Silo. The bunker was just like he remembered it; cramped, dark and rancid.
“I don’t believe it, for God’s sake. These are all old maps?” he asked, bringing his hand down on the table.
The room was filled with what was left of the TDU. They watched intensely from metal chairs behind the table, hope flickering in some eyes and doubt in others.
Obi paced back and forth while Spurious reviewed the maps. He tried to concentrate, but the ancient wall lights flickered, a result of the dust storm hammering the roof far above.
“That wasn’t a rhetorical question Spurious. Are you really telling me all of these maps are old, and finding a route into the CRK tunnels is going to be next to impossible?” Obi asked.