Revolution of the Gods: The Battle for Sol Book One

P
rimordial Earth began nurturing life almost four billion years before reaching the point at which it was something of interest to life not of the Sol system. There were countless planets in countless galaxies where the same exact phenomenon occurred long before and long after; where sentient beings evolved, developed civilizations, pondered their existence and then ceased to exist. On Earth, so also was the case three times before the fourth version of the corporeal beings known as homo sapien.

Along a gently flowing river, two homo sapiens stalked a herd of gazelle through the rippling fields of wild barley and wheat. As the hunters maintained their stealth behind the fruit and nut trees, the herd suddenly became spooked and bolted away across the valley. A few seconds later the barley and wheat fields began stirring wildly as the wind whipped all around. Pressurized air exhaust from a disc-shaped craft flattened the grain fields as the ship passed overhead at low altitude. The perplexed hunters looked at each other and then back at the craft as it approached a smoothly rounded plateau rising a thousand feet from the valley floor. One of the hunters immediately set foot toward the plateau but the other one grunted in disagreement. After the more curious of the two offered his counterpart a gesture of dismissiveness, they both cautiously proceeded toward the craft.

The shadow atop the grassy plateau expanded as the vessel lowered its landing gear and touched down. Its metallic silver skin brightly reflected the sun from the top half of the 260 foot diameter disc. The ship's engines disengaged, ceasing the turbulent rearrangement of the grass under it. Finally, a translucent blue field of humming e
nergy dissipated from around the entire hull and the plateau's peaceful silence returned.

“Commander, atmospheric readings indicate air composition of 78.09 percent nitrogen, 20.95 percent oxygen, 0.93 percent argon, and 0.039 percent carbon dioxide. Absolute pressure is at 14.7 psia and temperature is moderate. Surface conditions do not require enhanced life support,” one of the science officers reported.

“Have the long range sensors gathered anymore data on the wormhole?” the commander asked.

“Data indicates the phenomenon's duration lasted six hours and abruptly ceased. Our sensors have been unable to detect any more activity in the vacinity of the wormhole's coordinates. Trace tachyons are still present but are dissipating rapidly. Without enhanced sensors and a closer proximity to the coordinates, we cannot determine any potential reoccurence or frequency.”

“That's just great. We found exactly what we were looking for and now we can't tell anyone about it,”
the commander vented.

“Sir, our subspace communications are still operative.”

“Sure they are. But with the nearest relay beacon forty-six light years away in a different galaxy, it will be a long time before command hears us calling. Unfortunately, as it stands, we must be prepared for an extended mission. I want you to maintain perpetual sensor readings on the wormhole coordinates. We may not know when it will reappear but we will be ready when it...”

Before the commander could finish his directive, an alert sounded across the bridge array.

“Sir, we have detected two humanoid life forms approaching our location.”

“Put them on the viewer.”

The two prehistoric hunters crested the plateau and slowly
approached the craft in utter bewilderment. Both of the well toned men stood about 5 feet 6 inches and were clad only in animal skins that covered their genitals.

“Very interesting. Assemble a security detail and meet me at the air lock,” the commander ordered. “Let's go see if we can make some friends and have them show us around the neighborhood.”

R
evolution was the most unlikely and unthinkable event in Ben’s world. Block after block, the narrow buildings were stacked tightly next to one another outnumbering the long ago closed businesses, former churches and dilapidated parks in this former city. On the dingy and dark streets there were no cars; just hundreds of barrel fires that blotted out the stars in the night sky as plumes of gray smoke rose from the street corners like colossal twisting snakes with fiery tails.

The unelectrified city blocks were densely packed with all walks of society, from professionals to delinquents and everyone in between. But now everyone had the same status, and they were all living in a new reality where nearly all hope had been lost.

Surrounding this pitiful existence was a seven mile perimeter that had been established using the old Interstates 580, 880 and 980. The elevated freeways completely encompassed the inner perimeter and served as the high ground for scores of tanks and other defensive batteries. Along the freeways were giant spotlights that dotted the entire perimeter; methodically scanning the interior of the camp.

All the surface roads leading out were barricaded with thick metal gates covered with bright red warning signs. A mixture of military and police personnel, some dressed in black and some in fatigues, guarded the gates and patrolled the interior.

A fleet of aerial drones maintained a perpetual overhead watch on the area. The small black, disk shaped sentries hovered over the streets and common areas, gathering surveillance 24 hours a day with an array of cameras providing live feedbacks to the central command center. But the surveillance was not everywhere all the time and where there was no oversight it only took the slightest misstep for any resident to end up dead.

Inside this center of detention were hundreds of thousands of ‘residents’ living life as if they were in a third world concentration camp. But this was no third world country. This was the former United States. This was Zone-09 Residential Occupation Center (ROC) and it was the new way of life in Oakland, California inside the new North American Union - a new reality that was an absolute and damning commentary on where the planet had arrived after a series of unimaginable events that coalesced into Earth’s radical global transformation.

The Second Great Depression in the United States marked the beginning of the most volatile period of human history on Earth. It served as the catalyst that initiated a series of devastating terrorists’ attacks around the world which in turn spawned a nuclear war in the Mideast. And, shortly thereafter, a global pandemic eventually claimed a total 4.7 billion human lives. The people of this planet had never faced such devastation, sorrow and despair. The culminations of these events lead to the creation of the New Earth Union, the NEU.

Benami Gurion had a front row seat to the meltdown in the Mideast. Before his escape from the region, he had been a construction worker in Petah Tikvah, Israel. Ben was 32 years old and average height. His receding coffee-colored hair was cut close to his scalp making him practically bald. Under his round obsidian eyes he maintained a clean shaven face that showcased his infectious smile. But these days, Ben had very little reason to smile.

He was the sole survivor of his family to make it to America. His story was not much different than the other tens of thousands of Middle Eastern refugees in the camps. Everything and everyone he had known was gone; including his parents, grandparents, wife and three children. He now spent his days reflecting on how everything had fallen apart.

It is all still so unbelievable,
he reminded himself several times daily.

When Ben was processed into the Oakland ROC nearly three years ago he was designated as a ‘resident-detainee.’ And while his new classification was much less desirable than ‘resident-worker’ it was much preferred over being dead.

At least I’m still breathing
he thought on many occasions.

Rumors of America’s preparations for martial law had been around for decades. But the everyday struggles of most people did not afford them the reflective time of such considerations. And the government’s preparations were rarely if ever front page news.

Very few citizens had ever heard of H.R. 645: National Emergency Centers Establishment Act and the subsequent establishment of FUSION Centers in every state. Among many other things it authorized the formation of over 1,200 FEMA camps of various sizes throughout the United States. The Rex 84 program had also been implemented, which was the US government’s preparation for a mass exodus of illegal aliens crossing from the Mexican/US border. But, Rex 84 also directed military bases to be converted into detention centers for any national emergency.

The FEMA camps in the former U.S. were initially triggered not by a mass exodus from Mexico but by the influx of refugees from the Mideast War that occurred two weeks after the world economic collapse in July, 2028. The camps were duplicitously named Residential Occupation Centers with specific zone prefixes.

The Syova Virus outbreak that began about two months later morphed the centers into unimaginable sizes, holding millions of residents countrywide. The Syova Virus originally started in Europe and received its name from the Finnish scientists that isolated its molecular behavior.

This virus was like nothing that man had encountered in his short history. Within the first seven months of the first documented case in Finland, over 4.7 billion people worldwide had perished in the worst phase of the pandemic.

America was still the place where the rest of the world sought refuge. A great portion of the surviving US population was initially thankful that the government had the forethought to prepare the emergency camps. If not when the Mideast refugees began emigrating, they were definitely thankful by the time the Syova Virus had dealt its initial blows to the world population. But as time wore on, the camps were not the refuge that these millions of people had imagined. These camps, in the point of view of most residents, were simply an effort of their government to keep the remaining population under control.

Ben did not accept the reality of the Oakland ROC very well, but it was much better than the calamity from which he had escaped. Still, being stripped of his freedom wore heavily on him as each day passed.

Choosing friends had become a risky proposition. Ben did not talk much at all and made friends even less. It was not an abnormal occurrence to hear screams and spurts of gunfire when guards arrested people in the middle of the night never to be seen again.

Fresh information was nearly non-existent. There were no radios, cell phones or televisions. Billboard sized monitors spread throughout the interior where the only links to the outside world, broadcasting the singular NAU channel.

Government control of all information had reached its pinnacle. Even so, bits of news made it around the ROC the old-fashioned way - through word of mouth. The basic source of new information was the influx of new detainees that were 'lucky' enough to make it through the gates; not everyone in line lived to see the inside of the center.

As time progressed, the internment lines had significantly reduced in number but trickles of new entries were still being processed. Ben remembered when he first stood in the same line.

After arriving in New York on a converted cruise liner from the Mediterranean, he was initially processed into the New York City ROC. But the population of that center had been maximized long before Ben set foot in America. After two weeks, he and thousands of others were herded on a train like cattle. It was a very difficult trip in a standing room only box car. Eventually his group reached the Oakland ROC and it had served as his home ever since.

In the middle of December, the days had become shorter but remained relatively warm in the Southern California climate. By then, only a few dozen people were being interned on a daily basis and Ben was able to observe each person in the lines with less obscurity. He had made a point of lingering at the old South Prescott Park.