Pollen
Chapter fifteen

Shunka had been running for almost two hours through the dark, narrow walkways beneath the walls. There were no security checks, no surveillance or scanners. Every five miles or so, she would hit a sudden turn in the path as she crossed the boundaries of districts above. She had passed the signs for D1; all that was left was the City Center. Purpose possessed her. She had to reach the City Center; she had to see the city in all its malice laid out before her. She had to find a way out for Cheng. Her lungs and her knees were in pain. Despite all her training she was ill-equipped to deal with such a marathon.

She cast any doubt aside when a brighter light began to shine up ahead. A skull-white light illuminated several tubes that reached up into the ceiling. She griped her nSword handle and sprinted toward them.

She reached the tubes, but there was no one there. She took a moment to breathe, and her legs throbbed as she looked around. Each tube had an access door. She carefully reached forward, aware she was moving into a confined space. The door swished open and she stepped inside. The capsule in the tube was only big enough for one person. She had to put her arms at her sides to fit inside, and once the door closed she couldn’t move, so she armed every app in her body as it accelerated rapidly toward the surface.

She couldn’t orientate herself as the blacked out glass revealed no landmarks or light. But she was sure she was speeding upward. When the capsule began to slow, the air warmed and thickened. She thought it was because she was exhausted from the run. She prayed her serum was still protecting her. The capsule stopped. Bright lights beamed down on her; she switched through eye apps until she could focus. An alarm rang out. Suddenly the capsule was gripped by an external force, then the light poured in from above and a giant metal claw clasped the capsule. All she saw was a wall wrapped around her. She’d walked into a trap.

An intercom crackled into action.

“Hello, visitor.” It was a man’s voice, sounding oddly happy. “You’ve made it this far, so congratulations to you.”

“Let me out of this fucking tube.”

“Can’t do that, little lady. Who knows what diseases you’re carrying?”

“I’m not carrying any; in fact, I’ve got the cure to the pollen. We all do now.”

“Well, that’s most impressive. But ultimately that’s not going to help you in your current predicament.”

“And what predicament is that?”

“You’ve escaped your home, and who knows what your intentions are.”

“Why not ask me instead of cage me? Oh, that’s right, you are the wardens of the world’s biggest jail.”

“Jail? Oh no, you’ve got it all wrong. You people are the world’s saviors. We owe you a huge debt. You can take a lot of comfort in that before you are processed.”

“Which means what exactly?”

“Any stranger is processed: we check them for diseases, study their DNA, and then wish them a peaceful journey onward.”

“Onward? You mean you kill us? Great!”

“That’s right, little lady, we can’t have you spreading germs outside your home. It’s not right. We have a duty and responsibility to keep the people of the world safe.”

“Responsible? A whole city has been built around you, a city that keeps its citizens in a living jail—you call that responsible?”

“What makes you think the city grew up around us?”

“You’re at the heart of it all. You can see everything, you scan us, monitor us, keep us from looking over our walls.”

“That’s all true, but we are not at the heart of the city. We’re at the edge. We’re observers.”

“You’re not the center of the city? Then where is?”

“The Flower Factory, of course. They are the center of the city.”

“Why are you telling me this? I’m your prisoner.”

“You won’t be leaving this room. The truth is the least we can do for you. It’s impressive you’re here, consider it a reward.”

“A reward?” Shunka felt a stab of panic. She had thought she’d prepared herself for this, but nothing could. “So reward me.” She continued, her voice cracking slightly. “Why?”

“It’s a great experiment, don’t you think? We are here to monitor your progress and advise the Factory on their strategy.”

“So you’re in charge of it all?”

“If you like. We see ourselves as watchers, though.”

“You’re watching us? For what?”

“To see which model works best.”

“By model you mean district?”

“That’s right! You’re much smarter than the usual guests.”

“There’ve been more?”

“A handful. You don’t think you’re that special, do you? People have been trying to escape for years.”

“Well this time you’re fucked. The walls have fallen.”

“Yes. A fascinating development indeed, and ahead of schedule. It seems we have a winner.”

“Not yet, you don’t. My friends will fight to the death to protect Little Tokyo and the innocent people over the wall.”

“You were always too late. As soon as the wall fell your neighbors were assigned their fate.”

“Who the hell are you to decide people’s fate?”

“We represent the concerned citizens of the world. The outside world has for hundreds of years struggled with energy concerns, food shortages. With all the politics and elections and distractions of self-gratification we couldn’t reach the solutions required without diverting too many resources from the front lines. But you . . . well, this city has exceeded all expectations. In your isolation, your collective minds have been focused on your specific tasks, and in recent decades you’ve developed amazing technologies, particularly in Little Tokyo. You should be proud. Now we can reap the benefits of your work and help save millions of people.”

“What about the people down there? They deserve to be treated like humans.”

“Some people feel that way, but this isn’t about one city; this is about the survival of all the cities of the world.”

“We know how to escape our walls and now we’ve got a figurehead, a target for our anger. It’s you, by the way.”

The man actually chuckled. “Don’t worry, that’s all been taken care of. New strains have been released into the system; it’s usually every other decade you finally reach a serum that almost works—and then we have to knock you back to square one. We have our people everywhere, so don’t worry your little head; the experiment will continue. We had twenty-two districts originally, and we happily admit that your district has been a fabulous success. Your parents and your grandparents were all born and all died behind those walls. You’re setting a selfless example to the world. You must be proud.”

The capsule shook slightly, like it was docking. Shunka readied an explosive round in the serpent. The claws retracted, the door slid open, and she found herself in a small, simple room—no other doors, no windows save a skylight providing the reassurance of light, high above her head. A scanner on each wall recorded her. Suddenly she felt a small sharp sting prick into her neck. Above her head she caught a tube retracting back into the wall.

“You said there were others? Other districts?”

“Yes, they’ve developed particle technology, fission, and chemistry that would blow your mind. It’s all very impressive, but you? You in Little Tokyo have developed a genetic counter to the Flower Factory’s system of control—the best one yet. I must admit we didn’t see that coming.” The voice laughed again and Shunka’s blood boiled.

“Well now that we have it, there’s nothing stopping us from breaking free of them and you.” Shunka’s EEG flickered back to life. Her stealth programs were running smoothly. She immediately searched for the Center’s signal that Cheng had hacked into.

“Oh, don’t worry. After the war settles down, your people will have land to move into, new technologies to develop, and the process will reset itself. The choices are in their hands now.”

“You’re going to sit back and watch innocent people die and record it? What is wrong with you?” she screamed.

“The world is a chaotic place. Understanding it is almost impossible, but here, we can see the world in macro. We’ve had leading psychologists, philosophers, city planners, presidents, kings, and queens all here watching how society works with different limits, situations, and races. We’ve learned so much from you all, and you still give more with your technology advancements. You save lives, and the cost is minimal. It is a case of one city imprisoned to grant freedom to all the other cities of the world. Poor China has more mega-cities than any other country in the world, and they were spiraling into self-destruction until this experiment started. Now they are the world’s biggest superpower once again. The old American empire went sterile, but locked away here, one of your neighboring districts has done some fantastic work, and slowly, America is repopulating its empty spaces. Now, because we have all deemed Little Tokyo an exceptional case, we’ve got a treat for you.”

The wall in front of her slid open to reveal a giant window with an augmented reality display. Names of places, stats, and figures were overlaid on the most spectacular view Shunka could ever have imagined. The first figure she read simply said Height: 1.83 miles. She was looking out over the entire city from nearly two miles up. She couldn’t believe it and for a moment, it made her smile. Before her, stretching out as far as she could see, was a city sprawl that did not end.

Like blooming bacteria in a dish, the city ate the world. The Flower Factory was hemmed in on all sides, with its vast biodomes like blisters on the charred landscape. The area was colossal and dwarfed the honeycomb of twenty two districts around it.

Poor attempts at replicating the twenty two districts sprawled out in every direction across the flat landscape. People had flocked here in their hundreds of thousands to live in the shadow of the city. There were no hills, no green pastures—it was like a nightmare version of the pig pen projection. In the honeycomb, she could clearly make out huge differences. Little Tokyo was full of big landmarks and organized neighborhoods. New Hanoi was a jumbled sprawl of vermilion and ochre, twisted neighborhoods with no obvious street plan. There were more: Old London, bold but gray; The Kingdom of Phnom Phen—a lush green rich landscape. The giant view reached farther than she could comprehend.

“Where . . . where does it end?” Shunka stammered.

“It starts beneath your feet and it doesn’t really end, not anymore. There’s talk to declare the city as its own country”

“But the Traders . . . the outside world?”

“They have access to the real outside world, but it’s a week-long journey through the tunnels.”

The glass display then zoomed in on the breach of the walls between Little Tokyo and New Hanoi. The resolution was incredible. She could clearly make out the walls even though they were 13.6 miles away. She could see the movement of figures; they were the size of ants. One line stood along the perimeter of the wall, another line was moving forward to meet it.

“Can you pick out individual people? Who is leading either side?”

“We’ve got a few people tagged.”

“Tagged?”

“Yes. Individuals who require some special attention.”

“Let me see them.”

Hundreds of names appeared on the screen. On the side of Little Tokyo, the leaders of the opposing force were Cheng and Vibol. Shunka laughed. Vibol the smug son-of-a-bitch who’d stolen the bacteria from Cheng and had lectured her. Across the other side, however, she couldn’t see anyone moving.

“Where are the people from New Hanoi? I thought you watched everything.” There was no reply from the voice. “They’re dead?” The two groups converged in Little Tokyo. They stood in lines. Cheng and Vibol met each other. “War or peace, either way they’ll all know soon who the real enemy is. Once they do, you can’t stop the masses.”

“It doesn’t matter; it’ll all be logged and analyzed. They were too late to save the people of New Hanoi. What happens next will be fascinating; we’ll learn a lot.” The voice maintained its callousness; she could feel the man smirking from wherever he was hiding.

“So this is the end game, right? Show yourself to me.” Her voice trembled with rage as she finally hacked into Cheng’s signal. She stumbled back to the window and accessed her WaveHack that Jet had installed, took a photo of the entire city and fed it into the stream with a note: The City Center runs the show.

“Ah, time for processing. Don’t worry. It’s almost entirely pain-free.”

Shunka raised her arm and closed her eyes and allowed herself a brief smile. Photos could change the world. She caught a reflection of herself in the window, still dressed for her big night at the K-thrill, but covered in blood and dirt. She shrugged her shoulders and activated every anti-threat measure she had. With all her mods armed, like a wild animal in a cage she lashed out with everything she had at the wall behind her.

An awful noise shuddered through her as the explosive rounds impacted the walls. Flares and flames lashed out from both her serpents. Acid balls steamed as their chemicals ate away at the steel and carbon fiber of her cell. Diamond-edged blades shot out of her knuckles, a few centimeters long; they were designed as a lethal hidden knuckle-duster. She beat the walls with all the fury of a life lived in chains, a life that denied her the right to know her family.

It hurt her more than she understood that now at the end she still could not remember her parents. They were taken from her by outside forces that killed indiscriminately and without remorse just to protect their own way of life. Strength flooded her, born of the people she knew, the friends she’d made, and the love she’d felt.

She smiled as she punched the walls, wondering what Cheng would have made of her feelings. He’d have called her soft and she would have insulted him back. He’d know the truth soon; everyone would. Everyone would know the enemy and have the photo to spur a generation. Finally, when she had hit the walls so hard that her hands bled and felt broken and she was confident the her message from the WaveHack had reached Cheng and the people at his laboratory she staggered back toward the window to see the huge hole she’d carved in the wall. Even with all her anger and frustration she’d not broken through.

“It’s an impressive cell; I’ll give you that,” she panted.

“Feeling better?” asked the voice.

“Idiots,” she gasped back. With the single round she’d reserved, she spun and shot the window. The sound was horrific; shattering glass flew out, but the wind at this height shot fine blades back at her, blinding her left eye.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The voice had lost all power now.

She steadied her legs and walked forward to the edge.

“It’s a shame I won’t be around to watch the show, but I always wanted to go out with a bang. My people will know the face of evil soon enough. They’ve created a home and they know how to fight for it,” she shouted, the gale force wind whipping shards of glass through her hair. She closed her eyes. For a moment she thought she saw her parents in an old photo, but it was gone, the digital blur of her EEG struggling to cope with the data before her.

It’s often said that a heart attack kills a jumper before they hit the ground, and as the earth approached her faster and faster, her heart could not take the stress. Like light from a distant star, her photographic broadcast would take a while to reach Cheng, and anyone else who had hacked the signal. But in the end, her sacrifice would put a face to the suffering.

People would see that their failing conscious, their apathy, was costing lives. She wasn’t another statistic or missing person spun into a propaganda story. She was a real human, with hopes and dreams and flaws like everyone else. Most importantly, she knew what home was, and it was worth her life to protect it.

Stem, the sequel to Pollen out now. Rome and Mae escape the city to fight for revenge.

Thanks to you!

Thanks to Tom Gainard for all his research and time spent bouncing weird and wonderful ideas about. Also for his suggestion for the book title, Pollen. I could not have picked a better name to weave together all the ideas generated by the past four years of writing.

To Meg Copp, for her ace design skills and for concocting a wraparound cover that I fell in love with instantly. The cover is such an important part of any book, and I’m proud to show off this design.

And finally and most importantly to my darling wife, Eliza. You are an endless source of inspiration, support, fun, and love. This book is dedicated to you, as a small token of my appreciation for all that you do. Now where’s that Stilton?

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