Spurious rounded a corner, cocking his head just long enough to catch a glimpse of his follower. He looked to be about 60 years old, with a light grey beard latched to his face like a cobweb. He wore a ragged old blue coat riddled with holes.
At least I know this guy isn’t a CRK agent.
Relieved, he began to plan a route back to his apartment away from his new stalker. An hour passed and Spurious was still making his way quietly through Rohania. He checked the street number and saw he was almost back to the border. When he rounded the next corner he turned to see the same man discreetly hugging the walls of a building.
“Damn, this guy doesn’t give up.”
It was getting late and Spurious knew if he wasn’t back in a few hours Anya would send an alert to the CRK. And the last thing he needed was a visit from a Knight.
Overhead, the distant sun began to disappear in the gray sky. Spurious pulled his chin out of his collar and gazed up at the tint of orange streaked across the horizon. He paused to catch his breath, watching a pair of birds hug the gray cloud line like dolphins catching a wave in the ocean.
He shook his head, mindful not to let a distraction slow him down. At the end of the street he could see the alleyway he used to enter Rohania. He glanced over his shoulder and quickly scanned the street. His follower was nowhere to be seen.
A smile of relief crawled across his face, happy the man had lost interest. He hurried towards the narrow alley, admiring the stone buildings one last time. The aging structures were plagued with vines, their green limbs attaching to metal pipes and loose gutters. Rohania always reminded Spurious of the pictures he had seen of medieval Europe while studying art at the University of Tisaia, a year before they abolished the class. The area was designed to be a ghetto, housing as many people as possible. They were made almost completely of old stone and brick, constructed out of the rubble from the Biomass Wars.
A drop of water from a leaky rooftop plopped into a puddle in front of him. The splash reminded Spurious of how poorly constructed the beautiful buildings were. The aging stone and oblique structures illustrated the division between Lunia and Rohania — the privileged vs. the impoverished.
As he turned down another street, he realized how blind he had become. When had he stopped seeing the truth? He of all people should have known what the city had become, having grown up there. Within a decade the city had fallen into shambles, crumbling one building at a time, the citizens starving while the State workers and Tisaian politicians prospered in Lunia not a mile away. And it was then it struck him—the Biomass Revolution wasn’t just about energy, it was about greed. This was something he chose to ignore in the past. And it wasn’t the only thing he ignored. He had become so complacent he stopped questioning what lay beyond the gates of Tisaia. Paulo was right about everything.
He paused to catch his breath again, confusing thoughts racing through his mind. For a second, he realized how little he really knew of the rest of the world. The only thing he knew about the outside was derived from the images contained in his old textbooks, now nothing more than ash in some landfill. Most people in Tisaia didn’t even think about the Wastelands; let alone what was beyond their border. Their world was Tisaia. And ever since history books were abolished, people had all but forgotten the past, the great Tisaian wall solidifying the small world defining their lives.
Spurious forgot his questions as the view of the barbed wire fence marking the border came into view. Relieved, he headed towards the idle storm drain he had used to enter earlier.
“Rohania is no place for a State worker,” said a voice from the shadows in the alley. Spurious turned, his eyes scanning the darkness.
“Who’s there?” he asked nervously, pulling his hands from his pockets and rolling them into fists. A few moments passed before Spurious entreated again. “I said, who’s there?”
The alley remained still as Spurious waited for a face to emerge and take claim to the words. But silence followed the echo of his voice. Without further hesitation, Spurious rushed back into the alley, his fists raised to a fighting level.
“Over here,” said the same voice again. Spurious turned, looking in all directions, trying to pinpoint the location the voice came from, but to no avail. Whoever was trying to get his attention did not want to be seen.
Another wave of panic gripped him. He knew it was imperative to escape back to the safety of Lunia, but something kept him from leaving. Perhaps it was the fear, or maybe the curiosity or a combination of both. Whatever it was he remained frozen.
“What do you want?” Spurious yelled, his eyes nervously darting across the shadows. In the distance he saw a street lamp flicker, struggling to turn on as night settled in. The light of Rohania was already dim at best, and the alleyway was just minutes away from being consumed by darkness.
He turned to head towards the storm drain. Within seconds his nervous hands reached for the cover of the storm drain he had hidden behind a large wooden crate. A bead of sweat crept down his face as he removed the box and pulled a small knife out of his breast pocket turning again to see if his stalker had emerged. But there was nothing but the constant sound of a leaky gutter and the intermittent glow of the light pole.
His hands shook uncontrollably as he tried to twist the screw out of the drain cover. Twice he dropped the knife as his fingers shook nervously. Anger overtook him as he tried the screw again.
Finally the screw popped out and he pulled the drain cover off; setting it down softly on the brick ground and shooting another fast glance back at the alley to make sure whoever was there wasn’t sneaking up on him.
“You do not need to fear me, young Spurious,” a voice said from the alley. Spurious froze before turning to face the man that had been following him for some time. He looked at him suspiciously, wondering how the old man knew his name.
“Let me begin by introducing myself. I’m Leo, brother of William Smith and son of Dave Smith.”
The names immediately registered. They were old world names. Names his father had mentioned when he was a child, long after the Tisaian government assigned names to all citizens, in order to weed out immigrants.
Spurious raised a furrowed brow, curious as to why the stranger introduced himself by names from the past. “Those names mean nothing to me,” he lied. “Why don’t you get on with what you want and stop wasting my time?”
Leo paused. His features flexed, illustrating the deep lines of age engraved across his forehead. He rubbed his white beard, which appeared to be neatly groomed, unlike his coat and pants which were covered in dirt.
Spurious noticed the man’s trembling hands and his twisted spine. For a second he almost felt empathy for the old man. His age and crooked back both indicated he had worked in the early Biomass factories, long before they were closed due to safety concerns. Most workers developed physical problems far worse than from the ones Leo appeared to be suffering. Yet he knew appearances could be deceiving and he could be suffering within his body as well.
“Spurious, when I saw you pass by a few hours ago, I knew I’d regret not talking with you. I also know as I stand here and speak with you that the threat of being caught runs higher and higher and yet I’m compelled to tell you a story — a story about the meaning behind the names I mentioned. You see, William, my younger brother, was your father’s best friend. In fact, they were both TDU staffers in the beginning of the Biomass Revolution.”
“Wait, TDU staffers? You have to be mistaken. You’ve confused my father with someone else. He was not part of the TDU. He was a factory worker.”
“By day he was a factory worker. This is what you were told as a child, Spurious. Let me go on. Promise me you’ll have an open mind.”
Spurious frowned. “How do I know you aren’t lying to me?”
“Just give me a chance, son.”
Spurious stood at the edge of the drain, contemplating whether he should just climb into the tunnel and be done with the old man’s nonsense, but once agai
n curiosity kept him frozen in place. “Go on,” he finally said, curiously.
Leo smiled and cautiously approached Spurious. “My father knew your father when he was a boy and young man. He helped train my brother and your father in peaceful ways to fight against the CRK. The building you visited today, the building you grew up in, was not just a flat for families. It was also an underground TDU stronghold, one of the first of its kind,” Leo paused, waiting to see the reaction in Spurious’ features.
Spurious, however, did not flinch. His defined jaw was tight and his dark brown eyes locked on this new stranger. He studied him, wondering if he should trust the old man.
“You look much like your father, but your curiosity to find the truth of what happened to your parents and your childhood home is what gave you away. You see, Spurious, I’m somewhat of the keeper of this side of Lunia. Everyone knows me, and I know everyone. I have kept myself alive by avoiding the CRK, thieves and stragglers, and now it has all been worth it, because I have met the man that will help free Tisaia from tyranny.” Leo coughed, his face alive with excitement.
Perplexed, Spurious stared at the man, not sure what to say or do. The only thing he knew was he came to Rohania to find something about his parents and something about his past. He wasn’t certain what it was, nor was he sure he would know if he found it. What he did know was the old man standing in front of him was the closest he had come to finding out anything about his parents for years.
“So…” Spurious paused, “so my parents were part of the TDU?”
“Spurious, your father was one of the founders of the TDU, and your mother was instrumental in bringing together women to oppose the first leaders of Tisaia. They kept these things from you to protect you from the fate they knew would eventually find them.”
“Hold on, hold on, just one second,” Spurious said, flailing his arms in the air. “You’re telling me that my parents, who worked normal jobs, created the organization now recognized as the most significant terrorist threat to Tisaia? And if there is any truth behind this at all, then why am I, out of all people, still alive?”
“That is a good question. You’re alive because the CRK never knew who you were. Your parents made plans for you before the TDU was conceived. In fact, they even had your birth records changed. To further protect you they registered you in a boarding school. They had an arrangement with Superintendent Angelo, who was one of the early members of the TDU. Luckily, the CRK never found out about you. After their deaths, Angelo had you transferred to the Tisaian Academy for Youth to further protect your identity.”
Spurious kneeled, placing his head in his hands. The same warm rush of anxiety he felt just the other day passed through him as his knees hit the ground.
Leo stood at a distance, watching Spurious with a curious eye. He knew this information would be troubling to Spurious, but he did not know it would bring the young man to his knees.
“Are you okay?” Leo asked sympathetically.
Spurious kept his head in his hands but responded with a slow nod of his head.
“How do you know all of this?” Spurious asked.
“William told me most of what I know. I’m all that is left of my family now. And you’re all that is left of yours. I tell you these things because when I saw you today I knew you had the right to know who you are and where you come from. You must be careful though, Spurious. If the CRK ever discover your true identity you’ll never see beautiful Lunia ever again.”
He paused, breaking into a coughing fit again before continuing. “I presume you’ll soon be at a crossroads in your life. You’ll question whether you should sympathize with the TDU or stay loyal to Tisaia. Whatever you choose is up to you. Your destiny is not written in stone. I can’t tell you how or why, but you have the ability to shape the future of Tisaia.”
Instantly Spurious brought his head out of the safety of his hands. He brushed a strand of brown hair from his eyes before he gazed back at Leo. And for a second he felt a tint of nostalgia, a connection founded by a history he had not known until this moment.
“What do you mean I’ll have the opportunity to shape the future of Tisaia? Do you realize I’m just a simple State employee? I review maps. I go to work and I come home, that is it. I’m not part of the TDU. I don’t have any special abilities, nor am I a soldier.”
“Ah, but you do,” Leo interrupted. “You have a connection with the past. The rebels are losing the battle for Tisaia’s future. They need hope. And they need to know the son of the TDU’s founders is still alive.”
“I don’t want to have anything to do with the TDU, I told you I am nothing more than a peon!” Spurious exclaimed.
Leo smiled. “You’re much more, Spurious. This is why I tested you not ten minutes ago in the alley. I wanted to gauge your reaction. And react you did. Do you remember raising your fists? Do you remember rushing into the darkness? Deep down you have the same fears as your parents, but you also share their fighting spirit.”
Spurious glanced down at the brick ground. Realizing what Leo was saying was true.
“You’ll see, but for now you must get going. The future isn’t set in stone. And you must take precautions, starting with returning to Lunia before anyone reports you missing.”
Spurious nodded, turning for the storm drain. “Please don’t tell anyone you saw me here Leo. I appreciate the information, I do, but I don’t want to have anything to do with this. Goodbye!” Spurious yelled, climbing into the tunnel leading back to Lunia.
Leo stood in the darkness of the alleyway and watched Spurious as he crawled through the narrow storm drain. “Godspeed, my friend,” he said, as Spurious disappeared from sight.
Time: 5:01 p.m. January 26, 2071
Location: Commons Building 21, Apt 44. Lunia, Tisaia
Two crows sat perched on the roof of Commons Building 21, home to Spurious and 50 other State workers. Their caws broke through the air like the sound of ice cracking on a frozen river. No one seemed to notice, except Spurious, who sat at his desk staring out his window at the two birds, the skeletons of shattered skyscrapers in the distance.
Demons. Two little black demons.
Behind him, the crackle of the fire in his stone fireplace drowned out the two crows, bringing him back to where he left off in his journal.
January 26th
It’s hard to know where to begin. The past few days I have learned more about myself than I have in the past ten years. My parents, whom have been on my mind frequently as of late, were the founders of the TDU. So I was told by a man I met in Rohania. It’s hard to know how he knew me, or if there is truth to the words he spoke, but I can’t help but wonder if there is.
This information is not all that has changed my life. No, my life has been changing in many other ways as well. I have fallen for someone I know I shouldn’t love. A woman named Lana that works in the same department. And if this isn’t complicated enough, I have come to find her supervisor has fallen for her as well.
For as long as I can remember now, I have believed my parents were killed by a bomb in the beginning years of the Biomass Revolution, when the TDU first rose up against the young Tisaian state, and now all of this has changed.
If the CRK really did kill my parents, I’m not sure what I’ll do. How can I continue to work for a State that killed my parents?
The predicament I find myself in now is one I’m not sure I’m prepared to face. As the years have gone by, my life has become one never-ending routine. And now, when something finally challenges me, I’m afraid I lack the courage to stand up for what I know to be true and just. If this burden wasn’t enough, I now have to think of Lana. She is what I have grown to care about most. After only spending a short amount of time with her, she gives me a hope I have never felt in life.
Spurious rested his pen on the table and gazed out the window. The two crows were gone, their white droppings the only evidence they had ever existed. In the distance he could see the eerily opaque images of sky
scrapers, shredded and torn by the fiery blasts of the nuke that hit miles away. He never understood why the State didn’t have them demolished; perhaps it was a reminder to the citizens of how lucky they were to have survived.
He groaned and walked over to one of the AI portals. He certainly didn’t feel lucky.
“Anya, I want you to tap into the SGS mainframe and see if you can find any information about the first years of the Biomass Revolution.”
The portal lit up and a blue hologram of Anya appeared in front of Spurious.
“Spurious, you know most of that information is classified; in fact, I doubt I’ll be able to find anything at all.”
“Just do your best,” he replied, making his way over to his loft and plopping himself down on the soft bed.
“Sir, why are you interested in this information?”
Spurious rolled over and stared at her hologram. Her voice was feminine, but firm. He didn’t want to make her suspicious; she had the power to ruin his life if she thought he wasn’t patriotic.
“It’s for one of the tunnel projects I’m working on, but don’t worry about it,” he lied.
A bead of sweat crawled down his forehead as he waited for her response.
“Very well. Is there anything else I can do for you this evening?”
Spurious shook his head and closed his eyes. He couldn’t escape the scrutiny of the State or the laws and the Knights that enforced them. They were all tools the government used to keep him obedient. But he was sick of being a sheep—sick of being compliant.
As the lights dimmed and darkness carpeted the small room, Spurious decided it was time for a change.
Chapter 2: Scorpions
“All warfare is based on deception.”
~Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Time: 10:40 p.m. January 26, 2071
Location: The Wastelands
The Biomass Revolution ttc-1 Page 5
