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The next twenty-four hours were a blur. Orders were written and dispatched, meetings were held, and military units were activated and deployed. Internet advisories were created, approved and posted, informing the world of Candaerica’s plans and how the citizens could support it. Instructions were posted, explaining how those with deceased loved ones from South America could get their remains to pick up locations all over the country in time for transport, as well as many adverts informing people this was not a hoax. This resurrection was government sanctioned, and the government had full confidence of its legitimacy. Even with the reassurances, there were plenty of those that doubted the validity of the claim, which really didn’t surprise Blackshade. He had been told by Tremendous itself that they would resurrect the dead, and part of him still didn’t believe it. As he scrolled through the articles popping up on the internet, he saw plenty of bloggers denouncing the resurrection and telling people it was a government farce to make them look like they were still in control. Many religious bloggers were chiming in with long articles explaining how resurrection was heresy and to wish for it was an affront to their God. Those articles seemed to be gaining the most traction and had the majority of the commenters agreeing with the authors. Other articles supported the resurrection and offered reasons why, if it was legitimate, it would usher in a new chapter of human quality of life. For a short while, the internet bloggers were united in their disbelief of the resurrection and that the government was just trying to profit off the South American tragedy. It wasn’t until President Novatrix and President Silvia released a joint video, confirming that the resurrection was legitimate that the internet began to believe the situation had merit. Still, twenty hours after the first advisory was posted, the internet was split down the middle between supporting and discouraging taking part in it. Not that it mattered, plans were still going forward, and unless there was a surviving member of the deceased family that declined to take part in the resurrection, those that were buried were excavated, those that were interred in mausoleums were removed, and those still sitting in morgues were shipped out to Roswell. In twenty-four hours, the current count of delivered bodies was well into seven million.
Mister Awesome had made good on his promise, and so far every request for a conveyance had been fulfilled. In return, the Sommers’ Conveyance company logo was prominent on the majority of the internet’s blogs. Interviews with the company and advertisements were trending, and the company’s approval rating was around ninety percent. All-in-all, Blackshade couldn’t have been happier with Mister Awesome and the Sommers’ Conveyance Company.
The trickiest part of the situation was how to house the bodies until the resurrection was scheduled to take place. Roswell, New Mexico was an arid environment, but it was still very hot, and leaving a decomposing body out in the open for insects, animals, and the elements to ravage was sacrilege in many people’s eyes, not to mention a massive biological hazard. Bodies were being shipped in from all over the world, and not every country had the technology or means to preserve the bodies as Candaerica did. As it was, Zahera came up with an ingenious way of storing the corpses and keeping them cool until the day of the resurrection. She had the bodies placed in large plastic pouches that were water tight. However, in order to prevent suffocation in the event of a resurrection the container did allow for air to pass through. Then she was having miles and miles of racks, similar to the racks used for meat aging in slaughterhouses, brought to the site where the bags were hung with the deceased inside. Using a series of industrial fans and air conditioners, she was able to keep the area between fifteen to twenty-five degrees cooler than the surrounding area, which held off decomposition long enough for the bodies to last until the resurrection. The down side was the enormous energy requirements needed to power that many machines, as well as getting them all set up and keeping them operational in less than optimal conditions. To compensate, Zahera had requested the power grids in the town of Artesia be rerouted to help carry the load until generators could be flown in to support. The request was granted immediately, and within hours, the Artesia power grid had been connected to Roswell’s. It was a sloppily rigged job to be sure, but it only had to last for a day or so, and then there would be enough generators on site to compensate. Those in the Foundation were very pleased with her progress, and there were some already commenting on an immediate promotion for Zahera after the detail was completed. Blackshade couldn’t have been more proud of her.
Another obstacle that had to be tackled was where to house the South Americans after they were revived. Currently, Roswell was overpopulated and couldn’t support the influx of tens of millions of people all at once. Those with living relatives that were already established inside the country were easy. After their loved ones were brought back, they would be reunited with their families and hopefully, move in with them. Others without living relatives, or those with relatives that wouldn’t allow them to move in with them, would need other accommodations made for them. Usually religious leaders and organizations would be instrumental in finding these people places to stay, but due to the nature of the situation, most religious based charities and organizations were boycotting the resurrection and refused to help those that came back. Some went so far as to say those that were resurrected were abominations and would be excommunicated should they seek to return to their places of worship. Their stance disgusted Blackshade, but freedom of religion was a right in Candaerica, so religious groups were allowed to welcome or shun people as they saw fit.
In order to fill the need of housing for the soon to be resurrected, the Candaerican government began buying abandoned buildings and homes around the country and sending in teams to do quick renovations that would allow people to live there until other accommodations could be arranged. A general call for laborers, electricians, carpenters, mechanics, plumbers, programmers, and anyone else with a trade skill was put out by the Candaerican government and for the most part, the citizenship answered. All over the country, people and companies were busy renovating these abandoned structures and making them habitable within the week. It was going to be very close, but with a little luck, it was looking like it might just be enough.
Blackshade was neck deep in reports and internet blogs when his tissue ware began to buzz. Without thinking about it, he tapped at the input to answer the call.
“Ambassador Blackshade.” he said, perfunctory.
“Oh, so professional, I’m so impressed.” said a playful voice. Blackshade stopped what he was doing immediately once he heard it. A smile spreading quickly across his face.
“Zahera!” he exclaimed, “How are you? Is everything ok at the site?” he asked, suddenly concerned. With the amount of logistical work she must have on her plate, he couldn’t imagine how she had the time to call him.
“Everything is going fine at the site. We’ve got the meat hooks being built up and installed at the site, the bags being filled as the deceased are brought in, and the fans and air conditioners blazing twenty-four hours a day with two maintenance crews assigned to twelve hours shifts for each one.” she answered him sounding bored, “But I didn’t call to talk about that.” she said, her voice becoming serious, “They told me that you were on the Omega ship and that they experimented on you. They told me they changed you and did things to your body! Are you ok, Bill?”
Blackshade looked down at himself and flexed his muscles. He felt great! “Yeah, Za. Yeah, I’m fine. They put me in a case that basically gave me a tune up, and now I feel fantastic.” he replied.
Zahera was silent for so long Blackshade checked to make sure he hadn’t lost their connection, “Za? You there?”
“Yea, I’m here, just had a report handed to me. Intel seems to think a local group might try to come into the area and sabotage the bodies. One of the religious groups doesn’t like the idea of the Omegas resurrecting th
e dead.” she responded. Blackshade could tell she was trying to change the subject, and decided to let her.
“You have security doing patrols, don’t you? Barricades, drones, and surveillance, right?” Blackshade asked.
Zahera scoffed, “Of course I do, Bill. Don’t ask me stupid questions. We both know the protocols.”
Blackshade’s smile widened. He knew his friend well enough to know she was overwhelmed, and he rather enjoyed it when she got snippy like this, “Well, just have to make sure you’re not screwing anything up down there. This is rather important you know?” he replied, his words dripping with sarcasm.
“Fuck you, old man.” she said with feigned anger. “We both know I’m better at this than you are.”
Blackshade barked a laugh, “Can’t argue with you there, Za.” he said jovially, then more serious, “But really, how are you hanging in there?”
There was another pause before she answered, “It’s a bit overwhelming, Bill, and I’m scared.”
This caught his attention. In the history of their friendship, he couldn’t recall Zahera ever admitting to being afraid. “Scared of what?” he asked, concerned.
“That the Omegas are full of shit and this whole thing is some kind of set up.” she replied. He could actually hear the fear in her voice, “And I’m also afraid of what it means if the Omegas are being truthful and actually do resurrect these people. I mean, holy shit, Bill! What does that mean? Are we really machines? Is there a God? Does this mean everything the Omegas said is true? It’s like, no matter what happens, in six days the whole world is going to be flipped on its head!” she said in a quivering voice.
For a moment, Blackshade didn’t know how to respond. Zahera had always been the strong one between them. To hear her like this now shocked him deeply. It only took him a moment to make a decision, “Tell you what, Za, I’m coming down there to help. I’ll walk patrols, talk to the troops, and assist you in any way I can. If you’re having these doubts, then plenty of others are having them as well. Maybe by talking with me, the guy that has actually spoken with the Omegas, I can assuage their concerns. And if this turns out to be a hoax, or the universe gets turned upside down, well, at least we will be able to face it together.”
There was another pause, and he was sure Zahera was trying not to cry. He didn’t hear anything that hinted at it, but he knew her well enough to know she was fighting something. The woman was scared, but still tough as nails. When she answered him her tone was strong and confident again, “That sounds great, Bill. I’d love to have you around and get to give you orders for a change. Might be just what I need to take the edge off this situation.” she said, smug as ever.
Blackshade grinned, “Outstanding! I’ll be out there tomorrow then; I’ll report to you once I get there.”
Zahera laughed, “Make sure to bring your gear. If things get crazy, I can’t have you running around in your underwear getting all torn up. Battle rattle, extra ammo, and deployment gear. I’ll get you some quarters ready. Report to me when you can.” she said, now fully in control of herself. “And, Bill… Thanks.”
The line went dead, leaving him in silence. He had no idea why, but a wave of sadness hit him when she ended the call. He had to fight the urge to call her back, and his hand came unbidden to the spot on his cheek where she had kissed him. It still felt warm when he touched it.
Shaking his head to refocus himself, Blackshade opened up three new internet displays and randomly selected new blogger articles for each one. He busied himself for the rest of the night, reading up on the internet’s opinion of the situation and trying to get a feel for the local populace of Roswell. Now that he didn’t need to sleep, he had plenty of time to do his prep work.
Chapter 13
As promised, Blackshade landed in Roswell the next morning. He expected to be greeted by anarchy and chaos, and was pleasantly surprised to see that wasn’t the case. As he retrieved his gear from the conveyance, he saw that Zahera had matters well in hand. From his position at the arrival pad, he could see sturdy walls surrounding the landing site. Entry Control Points, or ECP’s, were erected and staffed by at least three Security Force members. Fully armed Air Soldiers were conducting roving patrols with drones providing blanket coverage of the site’s perimeter. Temporary Domicile Habitats, or TDH’s, had been erected around the camp with electrified barricades providing a perimeter around them. He saw there were drones patrolling the barricade perimeter around the TDH’s too and was impressed. He knew he wouldn’t have thought of that. The men and women in the encampment were alert, but didn’t seem to be overly stressed, which was also good to see. He did notice some of the Air Soldiers giving nervous looks toward the landing site where the deceased were being stored, but he had expected that. Zahera’s concerns were most likely shared by some of the troops here, so seeing their apprehension was to be expected.
Following the gaze of the troops, Blackshade took in the miles and miles of racks that were being used to store the bodies until they could be resurrected. Millions of bags, full of the deceased, hung from the racks, gently swaying in the breeze. The breeze, as it was, was being provided by massive industrial fans that had to be secured to the ground to stop them from blowing themselves over. Air conditioners had been strategically placed amongst the industrial fans to keep the temperature cool enough to stave off decomposition for as long as possible. A few of the bags closest to the air conditioning units had a bit of frost forming along their edges. Blackshade was very impressed.
He heard someone coming toward him and turned to face them. He smiled when he recognized who it was. “L-2 Wagner!” he said as he returned her salute, “It’s good to see you again.” he remembered Air Soldier II Wagner from his first operation here. He remembered her as the no nonsense Air Soldier that had taken over command after he dismissed a weak Sergeant. She had handled her part of the detail excellently and had taken to her impromptu leadership position like a fish to water. He also recalled how she dealt with the checkered shirted man that had assaulted her troops with rocks as he was leaving. An SMM round to his head had dropped the man dead, and had horribly wounded some of his cohorts that had been standing close by. The surviving men had been brought up on charges and were currently serving time. The deceased man was buried a few towns over. He recalled seeing the report on the incident a few weeks after he had arrived at the Unification Foundation. Air Soldier II Wagner had been cleared of any wrong doing; the checkered shirted man had attacked first after all.
The short, but powerfully built woman looked up at him with a half-smile that barely missed being a scowl. From what he remembered about her, she was a very serious Air Solider, so her attempt at a smile was probably her equivalent of a hug. “Ambassador Blackshade, Colonel Vuloom informed me you were coming. I’m pleased to see you arrived safely. She ordered me to meet you upon your arrival and see you to your TDH. Once you’re settled, she instructed me to escort you to her.” she replied professionally, then just a bit curtly, she twisted to show him the rank on her arm, “And its Sergeant now, Sir. Colonel Vuloom field promoted me until our mission is complete. Then it’ll become permanent.”
Blackshade could have been blind and still have seen the pride she took in her promotion. “Outstanding, Sergeant! And well deserved.” he said with sincerity. The approval he saw in her eyes coupled with the words, ‘Good Guy’ flashing across her forehead, confirmed his congratulations had been well received, which he found slightly confusing, given that her serious attitude never changed. She turned away from him to call out to a couple of passing Air Soldiers that couldn’t have been more than twenty years old. They both held the rank of Air Soldier or L-0, which was the lowest enlisted rank there was, and when they saw who had called out to them they almost sprinted to her in response. Blackshade noticed it wasn’t fear that made them respond so promptly to Sergeant Wagner, but respect. He made a mental note to ask Zahera to fill him in on what S-0 Wagner had been up to here since his departure. He thought it mig
ht be an interesting story.
The two men stopped in front of Sergeant Wagner and gave the proper reporting statement. She ordered them to take his gear to his TDH on the double. It seemed a little excessive, but he knew better than to contradict someone in a leadership role in front of their subordinates. The two men looked at him for just a moment before rushing to do as she instructed them. Once the men were gone, his gear in tow, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in Sergeant Wagner. The woman was good, and would rise high in the corp.
Sergeant Wagner turned to face him, “If you would follow me to your quarters, Sir.” she said, professional as ever.
Blackshade said nothing but motioned for her to lead the way. He thought she approved of his response.
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His quarters were what he had expected when he arrived. His TDH was officer grade, which made it only a little nicer than that of an enlisted Air Soldier’s. This meant his TDH came with a desk, which always made him laugh. That some engineer thought that a desk was all the difference there was between the needs of an officer and the needs of an enlisted troop had always amused him. During his career, he had gotten used to the fact that the people that designed military equipment seldom ever used it. Still, living in a TDH was far better than living in a tent like soldiers did in the old days. He recalled his history lessons, where he saw up to twenty men in a single tent living for months with no power, no internet, and no privacy. They had to leave the tent and use community refresher rooms (Which they called showers and toilets, sometimes with nothing more than a flimsy wall separating two people from each other) and when they slept, they were usually on cots that were made from hard plastic and cheap fabric. The lack of privacy was criminal by modern standards, and the fact that they had still used water for hygienic purposes, especially in a group situation, was inhumane. Water was one of the best mediums for pathogen transfers known to man. Refresher bot technology was far more efficient, clean, and hygienic. Luckily, with modern technology and advancements, those were all worries of the past. Now when the military was deployed, they could literally stand up a small town of domiciles in less than a day. The TDH’s compressed down into five-foot by seven-foot rectangles, that weighed around four hundred pounds. In a pinch, four or five people could lift one and set it up without any mechanical assistance. Once placed on the ground you simply pressed a button, and the TDH expanded into an eleven-foot by eleven-foot cube that self-stabilized and braced itself to the ground. The TDH had no windows and only a single door, but inside was a bed, table, small kitchen, and a refresher room. They generated their own power through solar and wind arrays, had heating and air conditioning, internet when available, and a single set of dishes and silverware for the inhabitant. The door even came with a lock that linked up to the user’s tissue-ware. It was a modern military marvel that vastly improved the deployed Air Soldier’s quality of life.
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