Revolution (5 page)

Peter had seen many commercials for Virtual-world on TV; they made his childhood roller coaster rides seem like a kiddie ride by comparison. Virtual-world was the next-generation, twenty-first century theme park. They had the latest anti-grav coasters, which blew the old twentieth-century models off the rails.

The anti-grav coaster was even considered one of the lesser attractions in Virtual-world. The largest Virtual-world attraction, the Powerdrome, contained four separate “worlds” where tourists could battle with a variety of robotic enemies.

The billboard was split into four screens; each one revealed a different artificial world within the immense Powerdrome. The first screen read; “DARK WORLD – PREPARE TO ENTER A FANTASY WORLD OF BOUNDLESS IMAGINATION.” The picture on the screen showed a group of ordinary people engaged in swordfights with armored knights in an ancient castle hall. The next screen on the billboard read; “SPACE WORLD – EXPLORE STRANGE NEW WORLDS IN OUTER SPACE.” The picture showed a laser shootout in a space station corridor. The next screen read; “CRIME WORLD – EXPERIENCE THE THRILL OF EARLY TWENTIETH CENTURY CRIMINAL ENTERPRISE.” The picture contained a shootout between two gangs of nineteen-twenties gangsters wielding Tommy Guns. The last screen read; “PREHISTORIC WORLD – EXPERIENCE THE WORLD WHEN DINOSAURS RULED SUPREME.” The picture showed a ferocious Tyrannosaurus Rex with wide slavering jaws and razor-sharp teeth pursuing a group of frightened people across a jungle clearing.

Whenever Peter saw one of the Virtual-world ads, a shiver of excitement ran down his spine. More than anything he wanted to go there and experience the excitement of the four fantasy worlds.  He wanted to escape his monotonous routine and engage in a fantastic adventure.   

Billy Ryder saw him staring at the billboard and followed his gaze to the jaws of the Tyrannosaurus.

“That place looks pretty cool, huh?” Ryder commented, flicking his used butt on the sidewalk.

“Definitely,” Peter agreed without tearing his gaze from the billboard.

“Too bad we’ll never be able to go there,” Ryder said.

“Huh?” Peter asked, forcing himself to tear his gaze away from the images.

“I said, it’s too bad we’ll never go there. You have to be an Executive to go to Virtual-world.”

Ryder’s simple statement brought the reality of the situation home to Peter. An intense feeling of depression struck him like a tidal wave. He would never be able to go there. He looked down at the cracked sidewalk and tried to push the Virtual-world images out of his mind. What was the use of fantasizing about something you could never do?

Traffic began thinning out at the nearby exit ramps as they reached the end of the billboard section. Only an occasional ground car drove past them at this point. All the anti-gravs had either remained in Central City or had taken exits to the suburbs. When they reached the section of the city where they lived, Henry broke the silence.

“Damn, guys, remind me to stay away from talking politics from now on. We agree on just about everything else!” he said, clapping his hand on Peter’s shoulder and giving him a rough hug with his right arm.

“Okay, Henry, no politics,” Peter agreed, smiling.

“For a while I thought you and Billy were going to gang up on me and kick my ass,” Henry said, laughing.

Peter and Billy joined in.

“You gotta love walking to work! We have so much time to talk, we’re at each other’s throats half the time!” Henry said.

“You got that right, Henry,” Billy agreed.

Henry began talking about his experiences at the Nexis Entertainment Club the previous night and Peter got involved in the discussion. Pretty soon, he had forgotten they had argued at all.

Chapter 5

The Protesters

    Campion leaned back in her office chair and placed her feet on her desk.

    I should have gone on that mission,
she decided, taking a cigarette out and lighting up.

    Campion recognized the inherent contradiction of lifting weights and running consistently, and yet still having the occasional cigarette. She enjoyed the contradiction.

   
If I had gone on that mission, I wouldn’t be sitting here worrying about it. I’d be in the middle of it and I wouldn’t have time to worry. I know my advisers are just looking out for the good of the organization, but sometimes they act like a bunch of worried old ladies. Especially, that political philosopher, Michael Rosen. He’s a brilliant man, but he doesn’t know anything about tactical missions. He’s the type of guy who will be a great help if the rebels win and we need to set up a new government. But what good is a political philosopher now when the only jobs to be done are violent ones? Anyway, it’s beneficial to have as many good people on our side as possible. I just hope the mission goes as planned.

    Jane realized her cigarette was smoldering in her hand as she leaned back in her chair. She took a deep drag and blew a smoke ring toward the ceiling, watching it dissipate into swirling gray mist.

   
Maybe the old guy is right. If I did go on the mission and got myself killed, how would that help? I want to be there during the finale. Whether I ultimately survive or not is irrelevant, but I want to be there when we take them down. I want to be there when we’re storming into New Washington with guns blazing.

   
Campion smiled at the thought of a fleet of attack choppers soaring into the capitol city and firing missiles and machine guns.

    But for now it is just a fantasy.

    
The city had defenses that were, for the moment, impenetrable. Somehow, they had to be taken out. But how? The entire capitol city was surrounded by a two-hundred-foot high steel wall. The latest high-tech surface-to-air missile launchers were stationed at the top of the walls. The rumor was the missiles could be programmed to pick up body heat and zero in on a human target.

    The missiles only had one weakness. They were all computer-controlled. Jane’s spies recently discovered an elaborate underground bunker beneath the city with a massive computer center. The missile defenses were controlled from down there. If they could get someone into the bunker and shut down the computers operating the missile launchers, then they could bring down the city’s most dangerous defenses. But how? It was hard enough just getting into the city. Who knew what kind of security the bunker had? Even if they could get past the security, they didn’t know how to get down into the bunker.   

    Another rather important question is who to send on the mission? The person would have to be an expert with computers to shut down the whole system. They would need to know how to hack into difficult systems with multiple defenses and plant a destructive virus that would bring the whole system crashing down. Sure, the organization has guys like that. But they’re useless as operatives. They don’t know the first thing about covert operations. They would be killed before they got to the computers. Which brings me back to our current mission. Can our team pull it off? New Washington is known as being the most secure city in the world. You can’t just stroll into New Washington. The city was built so no unauthorized person could even get near it. 

    Campion leaned forward in her chair and rested her elbows on the desk. She took another drag from her cigarette and blew out another smoke ring. The history of the city of New Washington had always been extremely fascinating to Campion.

    It all started thirty years ago in the old capitol city, Washington DC. During the year 2028, gangs and crime became so rampant in Washington that defenses had to be put into place. A perimeter wall manned at the top by soldiers with machine guns was installed around the White House. By the year 2036, with the advent of lightweight body armor, car armor, and explosive bullets, the gangs in the city became bold enough to do drive-by shootings at the men guarding the White House walls. Apparently, these attacks were the gangs’ way of saying, “fuck you” to the government. Rather than install cannons and missile launchers at the top of the walls to guard against gang attacks and thereby turn the capitol into a war-zone, the President decided to move the capitol to a more secure location.

   
The White House was moved piece-by-piece to an island off the coast of New York State. A two-hundred-foot high wall made of concrete and steel was built around the perimeter of the eastern side of the island. They constructed the new capitol city within it. High-tech computer-controlled machine-guns and missile launchers were installed at the top of the walls around the city. A fleet of police speed-boats were stationed off the coast of the island to monitor all ships coming in to the only entrance accessible by water. All boats, planes, airships, and air-cars that wanted to land on the island had to receive clearance with fingerprint and code identification via computer linkup before they were allowed to land. If they did not have the proper codes, they were blasted out of the sky or water.   

    Campion wondered how her team was doing as they approached the city. She figured the Senator’s captured yacht was now cruising toward the nation’s capitol city at an average speed, so it would not draw attention to itself.

   
Soon, it will arrive at the island’s southeast entrance and make it through security. That’s when we’ll find out if all our stolen security codes really work.

   
Aboard the captured yacht, events were unfolding much as Campion imagined them. It was sailing smoothly past the outer battleship defenses without a problem. The organization’s spies had obtained all the proper clearance codes many months ago.

    “We’re approaching New Washington harbor,” the yacht pilot radioed to the others below deck.

    The tremendous, gleaming black walls surrounding New Washington loomed on the horizon like a steel mountain as the yacht approached the island.

********

    After walking two more miles, Peter and his friends reached the outskirts of the area where they lived. With each quarter-mile they walked, the area became less desirable as they neared the center of Inner City. Old, crumbling tenement buildings replaced the clean white facades of corporate apartments. Abandoned, dilapidated buildings replaced lucrative businesses.

    As they walked, they also became more alert when they passed people on the sidewalk. They made sure not to make eye contact with anyone. They also made sure they didn’t rub shoulders or bump into anyone. These few simple rules of the neighborhood allowed them to avoid most potential confrontations.

    Sometimes a confrontation was unavoidable. Then, Henry took over. Henry had one of the latest automatic pistols, which he obtained on the black market, hidden behind some loose bricks in one of the abandoned tenement buildings on the outskirts of Inner City. He even had it loaded with the latest armor-piercing ammunition. That way, they had some protection before entering the neighborhood. They also didn’t risk getting caught carrying a gun in Central City, which was already extremely paranoid from all the terrorist bombings. Getting caught carrying an illegal weapon in Central City would earn them the usual sentence; the death penalty.

    Peter had an antique thirty-eight pistol hidden beside Henry’s state-of-the-art weapon. It wasn’t as intimidating as Henry’s high-tech, handheld machine gun, but it had helped him out in a few jams.

    A cop could be found on almost every block in Central City. Cops were a relatively rare commodity in Inner City. There were only occasional police patrols in Inner City. Heavily armored anti-grav police cruisers made routine patrols through the busiest streets of Inner City neighborhoods. However, the cops inside the cars were reluctant to leave the protection of their vehicles to investigate crime.

    With the advent of explosive bullets on the black market, which could pierce officers’ body armor, the heavily-armored anti-grav police cruisers became their last refuge. Cops tried not to get out of their cars unless an innocent person was being attacked in front of them. The cops’ first move was to focus their cruisers’ remote-controlled, roof mounted M-60 machine guns on the criminal or criminals.

    The main avenues were usually safe because of consistent police patrols, but people avoided the lonely back streets, alleyways, and abandoned buildings as if they were infected with a lethal plague. Cops were usually only seen on foot when making high-profile drug or weapons busts or investigating high-profile murders. There were so many killings in this area that most of them went uninvestigated unless they were particularly brutal, involved children, illegal explosive ammunition, or massacres.

    Sometimes the killings involved a person of the middle class or higher who had wandered into Inner City to obtain drugs, sex, or weapons on the black market. These killings were usually investigated promptly unless the individual didn’t have any family to lobby the police.

    Peter noticed pedestrian traffic becoming sparse as they traveled deeper into Inner City.

   
Most people don’t want to walk the streets and I don’t blame them
, Peter thought.