Greenhaus Part 1: A Storm Brews (4 page)

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 t
hem 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 dow
ntime 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 believed 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 sou
ght 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 mornin
g 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 sen
se. 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 a
nd 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 wi
sh, 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.

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 retribu
tion 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 s
ame 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 force. 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, fea
rful 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?”

Other than a slight echo, there was no reply or the sort of shuffling that would occur by a startled occupant, so Ella assumed it was safe. After entering the protecti
ve hull, she found a suitable place to lay her head near the collapsed portion. Her rifle was gently placed on the ground as Ella took a final glance around to be sure she was safe. Using her backpack as a pillow Ella allowed her dreams to take over.

It wa
s dark and eerily silent when she awoke. The whipping winds had died down completely, the sky had quieted, its fury unloaded while Ella slept. She packed up her belongings and ventured out into the darkness. The mounded earth had blocked the water from her, but an inch of it sat at the base of the ravine. Unsure of exactly how long she was out, Ella returned to her lookout. Sleep did her crazed mind good, the rage had subsided somewhat, her nerves calmed. She straightened her mask and allowed for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She knew the way back to her lookout, but moved slowly to avoid the inevitable stumbling haste would have brought. The climbing caused her to breathe heavily, her huffing and puffing amplified by her mask, drowning out any exterior sounds.

Once the blue glow was in sight, she followed the terrain through its rises and falls until she reached her bunker.  She arranged herself into position under the camo netting.
Lying prone, with her rifle sitting idle next to her, she removed the binoculars and played with the zoom until her view was in perfect focus. The rows of the sentinel coils greeted Ella, and glowed a much brighter blue in the darkness. Nothing would give her greater delight than watching the row of them come crashing to the ground, opening the way for her and the Masked camps to join the party on the Inside.

The day had not yet started for those who oppressed her kind, the lot of them still fast asleep behind the glass walls. She was not sure how much time she had before th
e skies brightened, but she frequently longed for a closer view. The break in the row of active Tesla coils where the latest expansion was being built gave her the chance. Though it was forbidden by the Elders, she knew her mission was solo and her position in the bunker would go unchecked until she missed reporting in, something she was not scheduled to do for another three days.

She had the time and the opportunity to get closer, and reasoned this to be her best chance. After securing her lookout and leav
ing everything behind, she crawled on her belly toward the dark corner of the glowing city of glass and steel. She stayed as flat to the ground as she could, keeping her head down the whole way, except the occasional check in to make sure she was staying on course and not straying into range of the perilous coils.

She arrived at the perimeter, which appeared dark from her lookout, but was close enough to the dome and power lines to glow faintly blue. Caution was exercised to avoid exposure, as she was sure
someone from the Inside was watching. Despite the clear glass, she trusted nothing about Glass City. Even if her eyes told her the coast was clear, a deeply rooted mistrust told her otherwise.

Standing beneath the unpowered coils, she studied their constr
uction closely. They were much farther from the glass than she guessed, and she made mental notes of how to best attack them if ever the opportunity arose. This up close view was unique to Ella. None of the Masked she knew had ever been this close to Glass City before and it was likely none would ever again, unless their attack was successful. Being so close to Glass City and these instruments of instant death empowered Ella, making her feel invincible. The base of concrete steadied the steel rod running through the middle and supported the weight of the massive coil and large polished ball resting at the coil’s peak. Lattice style construction provided additional support. Starting around the sixth story, the coiled metal wound up and up the rest of the steel rod, where the shiny ball was mounted some fifteen stories above her. Lines running in at the base of the coil would someday provide the power to the killer coils.

Ella walked to the glass, where she saw piles and piles of processed materials. Stack afte
r stack of glass panes created a small maze in one area. Rows of steel beams, countless piles of different sized nuts and bolts along with other assorted construction materials, tools, and debris. 

This brought the rage flooding back.
How could they have so much, yet share so little.
This is not the way her camps operated. Except for warring camps, the Masked shared everything they had. Food, water, clothes, if it belonged to one of them, it belonged to the lot of them. She did not understand the Oppressors way of life, how cruel and greedy they could be while others suffered so much. Ella continued inspecting the area of isolated darkness among the glowing city. The anger was winning the internal battle over reason; Ella was now less concerned with being discovered and could no longer fight the urge to explore.

Staying close to the perimeter, she walked east, following th
e edge of the glass around its corners and bends. The eastern most point of the expansion area was not enclosed by glass as all other parts of the city were. A small opening with a sign that contained five letters hung over the opening with an arrow pointing the way inside. She was intrigued and thought of walking right in, but it seemed too easy, like a trap. A trap she would let some sucker from another camp fall into, not her. Ella couldn’t read and had no idea what the letters D-E-C-O-N meant when grouped together, so she decided not to enter.

Instead she retraced her steps to the starting point, to get a better inventory on the supplies being held in the area. As she was making mental notes, she noticed the first of the workers returning to their duties
. In a panic, she hit the dirt, laying low in the small ditch directly adjacent to Glass City. Her gray zip up coveralls were filthy, not uncommon on the Outside, and helped her blend into the surroundings. Her mask looked like a common piece of trash, of which there was plenty blowing around freely in the wasteland.

The supplies were all secured by assorted ties and locks, which the first worker was removing. A second man arrived soon after and kicked the power on. Several interior lights flickered before
brightly lighting the area. Anyone that ventured near the glass would surely see Ella, despite her camouflaged attire. The rage and invincibility quickly left her, and fear jumped in to fill the emotional void, paralyzing Ella. Her heart began to pound heavily within her chest. Ella’s eyes were all that moved and she tracked the ever growing number of bodies in the area. If she were spotted, surely they would alert the Rangers. Without her bayoneted rifle, she had no way to defend herself. Part of her wanted to get up and sprint to her lookout. But she knew that would certainly get her noticed and although she would probably get away, her lookout position would be revealed.

Ella lay motionless, awaiting an opportunity to get away. The sky was getting bright
er by the minute, closing her window to escape. More and more crew members arrived in their fluorescent orange uniforms, adding to the number of eyes that could potentially discover her. In a panic, she picked up a sizable rock or hunk of dirt and launched it toward the glass, hoping to create a diversion.

It struck its target and shattered into a million pieces, falling back to the earth harmlessly, going unnoticed by anyone inside. Ella tried again with a slightly larger rock, but the result was the same.
The glass was too thick; the double panes silenced her efforts to distract them. Her pulse quickened and her breathing became labored, broadcasting the fear loudly to her ears, adding to her panic. It was not long before her breathing turned to heavy panting. She tried several more times to get someone’s attention on the inside, with the same level of success.

As the panic level within her rose, the escape routes vanished. Realizing the desperate nature her mind was sinking to, she turned to her instincts
. They calmed her. They told her to do the one thing that made the least sense to her in this panicked state. They told her to relax and breathe, to lay motionless and observe until she was discovered. They told her there was no present danger, and therefore nothing to escape from. Burn that bridge when you get to it.

Like always, she trusted her instincts. Ella took a deep breath and exhaled. Then she did what she does best, she watched.