The Biomass Revolution (The Tisaian Chronicles) (13 page)

Businessmen
rarely ventured out; many had been robbed or kidnapped in an upsurge of violence in the past few years. That’s what really surprised Paulo about this one. He had seen them in trolley stations before, but usually with armed guards and an entourage of staff. This one, however, was traveling solo.

Paulo
shrugged it off, glancing back down at his watch. The train was 11 minutes late, but there was nothing he could do about it. He pulled his tablet out again to pass the time and opened an article that actually interested him.

“
New Biomass Production.”

He scanned through it, reading that a new Biomass factory was producing enough Biomass in a month to fuel all of Tisaia for another 15 years.

The
red flicker of the light snapped him back to reality, and he watched as the inconvenienced patrons began to get nervous, several of them shuffling back and forth on the platform. Paulo glanced over at the businessman again and noticed he was still staring at the train tracks, unmoved from his position. A wave of anxiety shot through Paulo’s old body.

He stiffened and
stood patiently, his eyes desperately scanning the tunnel before stopping on a sign that read, “Report Suspicious Activity to the CRK, Your Friends and Your Protectors.”

Paulo
grinned.
Yeah right, like I’d tell those Tin Cans if I saw anything suspicious.

The train was now over
17 minutes late and Paulo began to make his way through the crowd. Unlike these other workers, he could not afford to be late to work. He was going to try and make it to the office on foot. It was only five blocks away, and with about 15 minutes to spare here, he could make it if he hustled. He knew the excuse of a late trolley would not be acceptable to his boss.

Paulo pushed his way through the crowded station, catching a glimpse of a full
y armored CRK foot soldier standing at the bottom of the stairs leading to the street above.  The soldier stood there frozen, like a statue; his rifle at his shoulders, resting perfectly on the skin of his gmetal armor. A shudder went down Paulo’s back as he saw the soldier, but he didn’t know why. For the most part contact with the CRK was an everyday occurrence, but today it frightened Paulo more than it normally would. The flickering red light, the late train, the out of place businessman, and now a soldier only reminded him he constantly lived in a state of fear.

The top step came into view just as he heard the whining of the trolley’s engine. He turned in time to see the crowd move forward, the lump of people pushing their way closer to the tracks to ensure a seat on the trolley.

Just my luck
.

He
turned to head back down the stairs, his back slightly hunched over, clutching the hand rail of the stairway. As he took another step, a voice screamed out over the commotion. “He’s got a gun!”

Paulo
turned and scanned the crowd desperately, in time to see the businessman he had been sitting next to point a machine gun at the crowd. Deafening gun shots echoed off the concrete tunnel walls. Instinctively he dropped to the concrete, the stale taste of dust finding its way into his open mouth. 

He watched as the trolley doors opened and several more men dressed like the businessman jumped out into the crowd
, their machine guns raised. The CRK soldier opened fire immediately, the bullets tearing through two State workers who fell, thick pools of blood oozing out of their warm bodies.

“
Oh my God,”
Paulo whispered, frozen in fear. It was really happening. This wasn’t just a story in
The Lunia Post
. This was real.

Paulo gripped the railing tightly a
nd watched the CRK soldier run towards the four terrorists. He fired haphazardly, his bullets cutting down innocent civilians in his path. The terrorists, who were most likely part of the TDU, fired back, their bullets ricocheting off the CRK soldier’s armor with little effect.

The scene was straight out of a nightmare, one Paul
o had seen so many times before in his dreams, and now he had a front row seat. He watched as the screaming civilians dove for cover. The terrorists were positioned behind the safety of stone pillars, firing desperately at the CRK soldier, who ducked behind a stone trash can, pieces of rock exploding from their incoming shots.

“Get down
!” one of the terrorists screamed as he lobbed a grenade towards the CRK soldier. The small explosive rolled towards the trash can and came to a stop directly at the foot of the CRK soldier, who was too busy firing to notice it. Seconds later the device exploded, sending a cloud of orange flames and sparks through the air. The explosion rocked the tunnel and blew the CRK soldier in half, his torso landing several feet from a woman who lay screaming. The piercing noise of the explosion subsided as smoke began to fill the corridor.

Paulo sat stunned against the wall
, a loud ringing echoing in his ears. He reached up and felt warm blood seeping from his face, but it did not faze him. His eyes remained glued to the scene, scanning the carnage. At least five civilians lay silently on the ground. Another 20 screamed in pain, clutching their bullet and shrapnel wounds. The rest of the civilians ran past Paulo as they tried to escape.

A man grabbed Paulo by the s
houlders, his frightened eyes locking onto Paulo’s. “Let’s
go,
man, what are you doing?!” he screamed. He pulled on Paulo’s tan sweater, but Paulo ignored him, his eyes darting back to the scene. The man let go of his sweater, and took off running with the rest of the survivors.

Below the four terrorists had gone back
into the train and were kneeling around a small box. Paulo knew immediately it was a bomb, but the reality of the situation still had not fully hit him. In fact, in an odd way it fascinated him. He strained to hear what the terrorists were saying through his injured ears.

In the distance the whine of CRK sirens rang out, and the ground began to shake with the sound of armored vehicles approaching the tunnel.

“We don’t have much time,” one of the terrorists yelled. He took out a knife and cut the wire of the bomb he was attaching to the center of the trolley.

“
Okay, it’s armed!” He stood and patted his comrade on the shoulder. The other three terrorists rose as well. The one in the middle, the same one that Paulo had been sitting by earlier, brushed off his dusty black suit. He appeared to be limping.

“
We do this and then make our escape. Nathar, you put the coordinates into the trolley’s computer, so when it leaves here it goes straight to the CRK headquarters. When you’re done, follow us down the tunnel. Ajax, you and Creo follow me back into the storm tunnels,” the leader said.

Paulo sat watching the four men as they began to move in all different directions. The
injured leader, the one Creo referred to as Obi slowly made his way off the train. The dark man grabbed his arm and helped him jump down onto the tracks. Then they disappeared from sight, Ajax close behind them.

Paulo continued to sit against the staircase; he gripped the railing so hard his knuckles turned white.
Something compelled him to stay and watch. For years he heard about the TDU terrorists, and now he was watching the feared men conduct their work right in front of him. Part of his shock was from fear, but part of it was also from curiosity and mere fascination. In a way, he was almost rooting for the terrorists.

He scanned the bodies of his fellow State workers below and stopped on the torso of the CRK soldier. The
truth was, he felt a sense of relief it wasn’t him laying there in a pool of blood.

“Move, move, move!”
screamed a dozen CRK soldiers. They ran past Paulo and into the carnage below. One of the soldiers stopped and glanced at Paulo. “Are you all right, sir?” he asked, a semi-concerned tone in his voice. Paulo simply nodded, and looked back down at the trolley as it began to move down the tunnel.

“Don’t let that trolley leave
!” the lead CRK soldier shouted. He opened fire on the metal skin of the trolley. Windows exploded as the bullets tore through the thin metal and fragile glass, but it was too late. Nathar had already plotted the train’s course and put it on autopilot, and by now, he and his comrades were long gone down the dark tunnel. The soldiers continued to fire as the train slipped away from range.

Finally, shocked into motion, Paulo
crawled up the stairway towards the light above. Step by step, he pulled himself higher, more faceless CRK soldiers and medical workers racing past him.

For Paulo
, everything became silent. Thoughts of the carnage escaped his mind as he fixated on the bright white light of the street poles above. Nothing else seemed to matter to him. The TDU, Knights, and injured colleagues were now just an afterthought. All he cared about was reaching the light. It was captivating and beckoned him with its dazzling glow.

With a final push he
reached the last step and crawled onto the stone ground above. He rolled on to his back, staring into the light, his chest heaving with every labored breathe.

L
ife is strange
. S
o much death, and for what?

He laughed as his vision blurred and stars danced across his cloudy line of sight. The bright glare of the light became nothing but an illusion of swirling white. It was seconds later, just before an explosion from the tunnels swallowed him, that he answered his own question.

The death, misery
, and suffering were all derived from the same thing; Biomass, and fossil fuels before it. As the inferno raced up the stairway, he cracked a smile. His eyes locked onto the Biomass-fed light pole before he was incinerated.

Time
: 8:03 a.m. January 30, 2071

Location
: Sector of Governmental Services. Lunia, Tisaia

Spurious was bored. He was sitting in his cubicle staring at Archie, when he felt the blast. It shook the entire building, and knocked his plastic clock off the wall. He immediately grabbed Archie’s bowl, making sure it did not fall and break.

Spurious
peeked out of his cubicle to examine the deafening roar, but all he could see were State workers running down the hall towards the receptionist desk, where a radio was transmitting something over the airwaves.

He quickly
got up from his desk and followed his co-workers down the hall. He already knew something was terribly wrong. He thought about what Leo had told him a few days before, and deep down he knew his life had already changed. Part of this caused a great sense of excitement deep in his gut, but there was also the anxiety of change he always feared.

At the end of the hallway
SGS workers cluttered around the receptionist’s desk, listening to what sounded like the deep voice of Governor Felix. 

“State employees and citizens of Tisaia.
We’re now at a cross roads between good and evil. This morning, at 1:30 a.m., terrorists affiliated with the TDU detonated a bomb in a trolley carrying a five week’s supply of Biomass to Lunia. And at approximately 8:00 a.m. a second attack occurred as TDU terrorists boarded a passenger trolley and planted a second bomb. They had planned for the trolley to explode under the CRK headquarters building, but thanks to the bravery of our fine Knights, the bomb was detonated before it could reach its final target.

“
It’s with great sadness that I tell you we lost many good Knights and State workers today. But I assure all of you that you need not fear for your lives or for your safety. As of today, the CRK will engage in a campaign to eradicate the TDU from Tisaia and from the very dirt of this earth. Nothing will stop me from taking the lives of every last one of these terrorists.”

Spurious could hear the anger in the words of the Governor.
Confusion rushed over him as he thought about his dead colleagues, and then his family, who had been murdered by the CRK. His heart fluttered heavily as he first thought of his mother and father, and then of Lana, the woman he had grown to love but could never have.

Nervous chatter exploded throughout the room as State workers began to discuss
the Governor’s announcement.

“
All right, folks, let’s get back to work. It does not seem like there’s any immediate danger to us here in this building. If there is, I have been assured by CRK officials that they will evacuate the building,” Varius said.

***

It wasn’t until lunch
that news of the fatalities started trickling into the office. Spurious was attempting to work on a document when a pale Ing rushed into his cubicle, a look of despair streaked across his young face. Before Ing said, anything, Spurious knew something was terribly wrong.

“Paulo never made it to work today,” Ing
said, quietly.

A w
ave of panic washed over Spurious. “Let’s go find him Ing.”

Time
: 12:15 a.m. January 31, 2071

Location
: Trolley Station #14. Lunia, Tisaia