Latin - "Dum vita est, spes est."
English - "As long as there is life, there's hope."
SC: African Red Zones
From Author: I hope you all like this piece. It is set in the far future series of the Shattered Citadel Universe and sheds further light on the future of humanity and how it adapts with the traumatic experience of a nuclear world war. If you have no clue what a Red Zone is, please do yourself a favor and read this article first... Earth Habitation Zones. Thank you. 25072011.
New Bujumbura, African Red Zone, Earth [Sol]
My shuttle hovered over the runway and drifted slowly down to the ground. It finally came to a stop and the seat belt light switched off. I removed my seat belt an stood up with the other thirty-two passengers, who were now filling up the aisle. It didn't take long for the Flight Attendant to usher us off and into the hot African sun. The air was dry and I began to sweat underneath my business suit. I take off my blazer and headed towards the nearest building. Once inside I saw a man happily waving at me. He was a black African with a khaki uniform. The uniform was plain except for a small patch on his left arm with the emblem of the Department of the Interior. He also wore a small name plate over his heart. The name plate read “Obasanjo,” the man I came to interview. I made my way to the smiling man and we shook hands. He shook my hands with such enthusiasm that it felt like he was greeting a long lost friend and not some person he talked on the phone only once.
“You are more beautiful in person.”
[I blush.] “Thank you Mister Obasanjo.” [I turn on the recorder.]
“Well then, lets get started. Please come with me.” [Obasanjo leads the way. We walk past the terminals shops and restaurants and he leads me past a locked door into a maze of corridors. After walking for almost twenty minutes he stops in front of a door marked 'D.O.I. - HANGER 22 – NEW BUJUMBURA.' Inside is a small room filled with instruments, machines and crates of various sizes. In the center of the room is a small black and boxy hover car. It had a two seat carriage with a large empty cage on the back. On its sides were two large storage units that were shaped like fat rockets.] “Alright beautiful woman you are going to have to change if your going to go out in the Red Zone with me.” [Obasanjo fishes clothes and gear from the crates scattered around the room and tosses them to me. He points to the restroom door and I change inside of the bathroom. The clothes turn out to be the same uniform that Obasanjo is wearing, with the exception of a camelpak strapped to the back of it full of water. I leave the restroom and Obasanjo nods approvingly.] “You look fantastic in that uniform! Now, this is the last piece of equipment you will need out there.” [He hands me a holster and a pistol. I look down at the weapon in astonishment.]
“A gun? Is that really necessary?”
“Yes. The Red Zones are full of dangerous wildlife, poachers and the occasional grave robber.”
[I stare at the weapon in my hands and shake my head.] “I don't even know how to use a gun.”
“It's simple.” [He pulls his pistol out of his holster.] “Safety off.” [The pistol reacts to his voice and a red light flashes on its side.] “Aim.” [He lines up the gun with a crate on the far side of the room.] “Fire!” [The pistol unleashes a burst of energy that smashed right into the crate and completely obliterated it.] “Real simple. Now, let's go on this tour!”
[I carefully place the gun in the holster and hang it off my belt. I say nothing to him as he opens the car door for me and I take my seat. One of the walls to the room opens and the bright African sun pours in. The car effortlessly lifts off the floor and zooms out of the door and out into the world. Obasanjo flew for some distance and then swung the car back around. The floating city of New Bujumbura comes back into view and its huge screw-like form gets closer and closer as we approach it. The city floated a mile off the ground, suspended in the air by the latest in anti-gravitational technology. Its top portion, the “head,” housed the airport and the large spiral structures that housed most of the inhabitants of the city. Its lower portion, the “shaft,” held hundreds of hanger bays, work areas, and utility stations.]
“New Bujumbura, isn't it a thing of beauty?” [I nod in agreement.] “There are only a few cities like them on Earth. All of them deep inside of the Red Zones to house the scientists, terraformers, archeologists, specialists and soldiers vital to revive and maintain Earth's natural beauty. The cities float high in the air to minimize mankind's influence, but it still allows us to maintain a strong presence so we can continue our work here.”
“What exactly do you do?”
“I work for the Department of the Interior as a zoologist. I study wildlife for the D.O.I., but most of my work recently involves reinserting resurrected species into the wild and monitoring their progress. Mainly making sure that they mate, adapt and survive.” [We zoom by the floating city and fly northwards towards deep vegetation.]
“What is this area called?”
“The one were flying over?”
“Yes.”
“It is called the Bonesplinter Africanus Memorial Rainforest, it used to be a barren wasteland, but over the last one hundred years it has been turned into a sustainable rainforest. Much of the vegetation was replanted with genetically enhanced seeds from the seed vault in Svalbard, Norway. Thank God for that damn thing cause more then 99% of the worlds plant life post Third War came from there. Those seeds were a Godsend, after the Third War almost all of the tree cover on Earth was killed off by war, nuclear fallout and that damn HAVA virus. There were no living rainforests anywhere, not even in the colonies. Most of the colonial forests were made up of oak, maple, pine and cedar. The kind of trees that were easy to maintain, pretty to look at and provided benefits like lumber or delicious syrup." [Obasanjo licks his lips.] "The seeds in the vault were harvested and replicated and soon enough the D.O.I. had a few rainforests up and running. Once that happened we started to repopulate those forests with wildlife.”
“Excuse me, but did you say 'Bonesplinter Africanus Memorial Rainforest?'”
“It's named to honor the dead found in this area in more then ten thousand mass graves from the Third Human Civil War. Estimates vary depending on who you ask, but everyone seems to agree that no less then 100,000,000 remains were exhumed in this area alone. Some say that millions more are still lost beneath the soil, and are waiting to be unearthed. The archeologist teams from New Bujumbura pull out hundreds of bodies each day, so I guess it must be true. When I first started this job more then fifty years ago you literally could not walk down there [He points to the rainforest below] without crushing a human bone underneath your boot.”
“Wait... So the D.O.I. decided it was a good idea to plant a rainforest on top of a giant graveyard?”
“Well, we took out as many bodies as possible before the first tree was even planted. You have to realize that this place before the Third War was a rainforest and this area is strategically located in the exact center of Africa. We build a rainforest here and it will naturally expand and fill up the rest of Africa.”
“I was wondering. Wouldn't all those bodies affect the soil?”
“As a matter-of-fact it did. Nothing would grow here cause of the high lead and iron content of the soil. Iron from the blood of the dead and lead from the bullets used to kill them.”
“How did you get around that?”
“Bioengineering. We modified the plant life to thrive on the iron rich soil and introduced genetically manipulated microbes into the soil that targeted and consumed lead. Getting rid of the lead was definitely the hardest part of the process. Took a lot of trial and error to make it work and when it finally did it took a long time to clear up the area for plant life insertion. Those damn microbes would die off so easily. With the ozone all screwy they only lived for five days. If they ran out of food in an area, they'd die. If it even rained they'd die. This was back in the day when almost all rain was acid rain.”
“Why weren't nanobots used?”
[He laughs loudly.] “We tried, but in the end mother nature kept rejecting them and only nature itself, the microbes, seemed to work. Its a very different thing to rebuild an ecosystem. Nanites work best in controlled environments.”
“I see. What happened to the bodies?”
“Most of them went to the Third Human Civil War Memorial Graveyard in Greenland, but a few made it to family plots around the world. Those that could be identified and had actual family that survived the war. Not many families, especially in Africa, survived the war. Most Post-Third War families consisted only of maybe one or two members.”
English - "As long as there is life, there's hope."
SC: African Red Zones
From Author: I hope you all like this piece. It is set in the far future series of the Shattered Citadel Universe and sheds further light on the future of humanity and how it adapts with the traumatic experience of a nuclear world war. If you have no clue what a Red Zone is, please do yourself a favor and read this article first... Earth Habitation Zones. Thank you. 25072011.
New Bujumbura, African Red Zone, Earth [Sol]
My shuttle hovered over the runway and drifted slowly down to the ground. It finally came to a stop and the seat belt light switched off. I removed my seat belt an stood up with the other thirty-two passengers, who were now filling up the aisle. It didn't take long for the Flight Attendant to usher us off and into the hot African sun. The air was dry and I began to sweat underneath my business suit. I take off my blazer and headed towards the nearest building. Once inside I saw a man happily waving at me. He was a black African with a khaki uniform. The uniform was plain except for a small patch on his left arm with the emblem of the Department of the Interior. He also wore a small name plate over his heart. The name plate read “Obasanjo,” the man I came to interview. I made my way to the smiling man and we shook hands. He shook my hands with such enthusiasm that it felt like he was greeting a long lost friend and not some person he talked on the phone only once.
“You are more beautiful in person.”
[I blush.] “Thank you Mister Obasanjo.” [I turn on the recorder.]
“Well then, lets get started. Please come with me.” [Obasanjo leads the way. We walk past the terminals shops and restaurants and he leads me past a locked door into a maze of corridors. After walking for almost twenty minutes he stops in front of a door marked 'D.O.I. - HANGER 22 – NEW BUJUMBURA.' Inside is a small room filled with instruments, machines and crates of various sizes. In the center of the room is a small black and boxy hover car. It had a two seat carriage with a large empty cage on the back. On its sides were two large storage units that were shaped like fat rockets.] “Alright beautiful woman you are going to have to change if your going to go out in the Red Zone with me.” [Obasanjo fishes clothes and gear from the crates scattered around the room and tosses them to me. He points to the restroom door and I change inside of the bathroom. The clothes turn out to be the same uniform that Obasanjo is wearing, with the exception of a camelpak strapped to the back of it full of water. I leave the restroom and Obasanjo nods approvingly.] “You look fantastic in that uniform! Now, this is the last piece of equipment you will need out there.” [He hands me a holster and a pistol. I look down at the weapon in astonishment.]
“A gun? Is that really necessary?”
“Yes. The Red Zones are full of dangerous wildlife, poachers and the occasional grave robber.”
[I stare at the weapon in my hands and shake my head.] “I don't even know how to use a gun.”
“It's simple.” [He pulls his pistol out of his holster.] “Safety off.” [The pistol reacts to his voice and a red light flashes on its side.] “Aim.” [He lines up the gun with a crate on the far side of the room.] “Fire!” [The pistol unleashes a burst of energy that smashed right into the crate and completely obliterated it.] “Real simple. Now, let's go on this tour!”
[I carefully place the gun in the holster and hang it off my belt. I say nothing to him as he opens the car door for me and I take my seat. One of the walls to the room opens and the bright African sun pours in. The car effortlessly lifts off the floor and zooms out of the door and out into the world. Obasanjo flew for some distance and then swung the car back around. The floating city of New Bujumbura comes back into view and its huge screw-like form gets closer and closer as we approach it. The city floated a mile off the ground, suspended in the air by the latest in anti-gravitational technology. Its top portion, the “head,” housed the airport and the large spiral structures that housed most of the inhabitants of the city. Its lower portion, the “shaft,” held hundreds of hanger bays, work areas, and utility stations.]
“New Bujumbura, isn't it a thing of beauty?” [I nod in agreement.] “There are only a few cities like them on Earth. All of them deep inside of the Red Zones to house the scientists, terraformers, archeologists, specialists and soldiers vital to revive and maintain Earth's natural beauty. The cities float high in the air to minimize mankind's influence, but it still allows us to maintain a strong presence so we can continue our work here.”
“What exactly do you do?”
“I work for the Department of the Interior as a zoologist. I study wildlife for the D.O.I., but most of my work recently involves reinserting resurrected species into the wild and monitoring their progress. Mainly making sure that they mate, adapt and survive.” [We zoom by the floating city and fly northwards towards deep vegetation.]
“What is this area called?”
“The one were flying over?”
“Yes.”
“It is called the Bonesplinter Africanus Memorial Rainforest, it used to be a barren wasteland, but over the last one hundred years it has been turned into a sustainable rainforest. Much of the vegetation was replanted with genetically enhanced seeds from the seed vault in Svalbard, Norway. Thank God for that damn thing cause more then 99% of the worlds plant life post Third War came from there. Those seeds were a Godsend, after the Third War almost all of the tree cover on Earth was killed off by war, nuclear fallout and that damn HAVA virus. There were no living rainforests anywhere, not even in the colonies. Most of the colonial forests were made up of oak, maple, pine and cedar. The kind of trees that were easy to maintain, pretty to look at and provided benefits like lumber or delicious syrup." [Obasanjo licks his lips.] "The seeds in the vault were harvested and replicated and soon enough the D.O.I. had a few rainforests up and running. Once that happened we started to repopulate those forests with wildlife.”
“Excuse me, but did you say 'Bonesplinter Africanus Memorial Rainforest?'”
“It's named to honor the dead found in this area in more then ten thousand mass graves from the Third Human Civil War. Estimates vary depending on who you ask, but everyone seems to agree that no less then 100,000,000 remains were exhumed in this area alone. Some say that millions more are still lost beneath the soil, and are waiting to be unearthed. The archeologist teams from New Bujumbura pull out hundreds of bodies each day, so I guess it must be true. When I first started this job more then fifty years ago you literally could not walk down there [He points to the rainforest below] without crushing a human bone underneath your boot.”
“Wait... So the D.O.I. decided it was a good idea to plant a rainforest on top of a giant graveyard?”
“Well, we took out as many bodies as possible before the first tree was even planted. You have to realize that this place before the Third War was a rainforest and this area is strategically located in the exact center of Africa. We build a rainforest here and it will naturally expand and fill up the rest of Africa.”
“I was wondering. Wouldn't all those bodies affect the soil?”
“As a matter-of-fact it did. Nothing would grow here cause of the high lead and iron content of the soil. Iron from the blood of the dead and lead from the bullets used to kill them.”
“How did you get around that?”
“Bioengineering. We modified the plant life to thrive on the iron rich soil and introduced genetically manipulated microbes into the soil that targeted and consumed lead. Getting rid of the lead was definitely the hardest part of the process. Took a lot of trial and error to make it work and when it finally did it took a long time to clear up the area for plant life insertion. Those damn microbes would die off so easily. With the ozone all screwy they only lived for five days. If they ran out of food in an area, they'd die. If it even rained they'd die. This was back in the day when almost all rain was acid rain.”
“Why weren't nanobots used?”
[He laughs loudly.] “We tried, but in the end mother nature kept rejecting them and only nature itself, the microbes, seemed to work. Its a very different thing to rebuild an ecosystem. Nanites work best in controlled environments.”
“I see. What happened to the bodies?”
“Most of them went to the Third Human Civil War Memorial Graveyard in Greenland, but a few made it to family plots around the world. Those that could be identified and had actual family that survived the war. Not many families, especially in Africa, survived the war. Most Post-Third War families consisted only of maybe one or two members.”
“Your father survived the war. What was his role in the Third Human Civil War?”
“Yes. My father was a soldier with the South African Army. When the war broke out in 2055 he was already an experienced sergeant and his unit was one of the first to be sent north to engage the Holy Islamic Empire. The HIE forces at the outbreak of the war poured south and easily overwhelmed the African nation-states bordering their territories. The remaining African nation-states in desperation formed a loose confederation known to history as the African Union. There was no real command and control structure and the major African nation-states vied against each other for power. My father told me once how it got so bad that the African Union forces literally rotated command by the day of the week. South Africa would tell my fathers unit to dig in on Monday. On Tuesday Congo would tell his unit to march north into the forest on a search and destroy mission. Then on Wednesday Zambia would tell them to disengage at all costs and head west to dig in. Can you imagine an army being run that way? The HIE completely tore through the A.U. and many good soldiers died needlessly because of that kind of madness. [He shakes his head in disgust.] My father was a great man, because of him many of his men made it out of that slaughter.”
“Where is your father now?”
[Obasanjo takes a deep breath and exhales loudly.] “I was born in 2120. A long time after the Third Human Civil War ended and everything I know about the war I know through him. In my youth I didn't get to see my father much, only for about two weeks out of the year. He served in the United Systems Army up until the day he died. He died in what they now call the First Universal War. He died holding the Ravadlors back at the Battle of Armada. [He tears up.] I could never understand why he served in the military all of his life. He did enough in the Third War, but he just kept on fighting in every damn war until he died. Its like he was ashamed to be alive. It is the only thing I cannot forgive him for. After his death I decided to dedicate my life to restoring the wildlife here on Earth.
My father absolutely loved animals and as a child he would tell me about them. You should have heard him speak about them. [He smiles.] His voice was always filled with awe when he spoke of them and I know he regretted that I would never actually see them aside from old movies and documentaries... [He pauses as he hovers the car over a clearing in the jungle. He lowers the car in between two vine covered trees just north of the clearing and we land.] Do you remember how to use your weapon?”
[I nod.] “Are we safe?”
“I don't know yet.” [Obasanjo presses a button on his dashboard to request reinforcements.] “Poachers or grave robbers.” [He says in a whisper. He lifts up a rifle he had stored under his seat and leaves the car.] “Stay here. If I do not return in twenty minutes go back to New Bujumbura. [He advances into the jungle towards the clearing with his rifle up and ready.]
[Fifteen minutes pass and a large black military transport appears out of midair and hovers over the car. The transports aft door swung open and six black armored soldiers jump off the aircraft and land all around the car. They effortlessly jump the 100 foot distance between the transport and the ground. The leader of the six taps his rifle on the door of the car and points at me with his left hand.] “Are you okay ma'am?”
[I nod.] “I am, but Mister Obasanjo went to investigate a clearing of trees just south of here. He thought there might be poachers or grave robbers.”
[The lead soldier nods at me and points to another soldier. The lead soldier and four others head south while the soldier pointed at before stayed by the car. After ten more minutes, Obasanjo and the five soldiers return from the jungle. Obasanjo comes to the car carrying a large bundle wrapped in a white sheet. The soldier who was guarding the car snaps to attention and gives Obasanjo a sharp salute. Obasanjo hands the bundle to the soldier and enters the car and lifts off up into the air.]
“What did you find?”
“The clearing was made by grave robbers who probably used it to land a transport and haul Third War artifacts away.”
“That still happens in this day and age?” [I say disgusted.]
“Unfortunately it does. Third War artifacts are big business throughout the United Systems and possibly beyond. Weapons, vehicles, uniforms, armor and sometimes bodies are mainly what they look for.”
“What was that under that white sheet you were holding?”
“A PLA soldiers remains that was stripped of everything but her undergarments. [He shakes his head in frustration.] Those thieves got away this time, but we'll catch them and they'll be sent off to Ironbound.” [He smiles.]
“Ironbound? On Pluto?”
“Yes. The Red Zone is federally protected land put aside for the revived wildlife and crimes committed here fall under military jurisdiction. So the punishment is usually far more severe, especially for grave robbing.” [Our car lurches forward and we fly towards a ruined city in the distance that was completely covered in vegetation. Its once mighty skyscrapers were now hollow steel skeletons with heavy vines snaking up to the very top of the structures. We hover over one such structure and land on its roof.]
“Where are we?”
“The ruins of what was once the city of Kigali. It saw heavy fighting during the Third War between the HIE and the A.U. The A.U. tried to stop the HIE advance here, but it failed miserably. The bulk of the A.U. Army ended up getting surrounded and then slaughtered. The Africans refugees that escaped the HIE up north also made camp around the city. The A.U. Army had assured them that they would easily stop the HIE and that they would all be home by Christmas. After the HIE destroyed the A.U. Army they gathered up all of the tens of millions of refugees and killed them too. That is way this area is full of the bones of the dead. My father did fight here, but he never did tell me exactly what happened here. It was one of the few things he never spoke to me about. So much death. It's almost hard to imagine what it must have been like to be here when the slaughter began... [Obasanjo leaves the hover car and slings his rifle to his back as he tip toes silently towards the edge of the roof. He bends down to look over the edge and a large flock of birds spooked by his presence fly off.] “COME ON OUT HERE! YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS!”
“Yes. My father was a soldier with the South African Army. When the war broke out in 2055 he was already an experienced sergeant and his unit was one of the first to be sent north to engage the Holy Islamic Empire. The HIE forces at the outbreak of the war poured south and easily overwhelmed the African nation-states bordering their territories. The remaining African nation-states in desperation formed a loose confederation known to history as the African Union. There was no real command and control structure and the major African nation-states vied against each other for power. My father told me once how it got so bad that the African Union forces literally rotated command by the day of the week. South Africa would tell my fathers unit to dig in on Monday. On Tuesday Congo would tell his unit to march north into the forest on a search and destroy mission. Then on Wednesday Zambia would tell them to disengage at all costs and head west to dig in. Can you imagine an army being run that way? The HIE completely tore through the A.U. and many good soldiers died needlessly because of that kind of madness. [He shakes his head in disgust.] My father was a great man, because of him many of his men made it out of that slaughter.”
“Where is your father now?”
[Obasanjo takes a deep breath and exhales loudly.] “I was born in 2120. A long time after the Third Human Civil War ended and everything I know about the war I know through him. In my youth I didn't get to see my father much, only for about two weeks out of the year. He served in the United Systems Army up until the day he died. He died in what they now call the First Universal War. He died holding the Ravadlors back at the Battle of Armada. [He tears up.] I could never understand why he served in the military all of his life. He did enough in the Third War, but he just kept on fighting in every damn war until he died. Its like he was ashamed to be alive. It is the only thing I cannot forgive him for. After his death I decided to dedicate my life to restoring the wildlife here on Earth.
My father absolutely loved animals and as a child he would tell me about them. You should have heard him speak about them. [He smiles.] His voice was always filled with awe when he spoke of them and I know he regretted that I would never actually see them aside from old movies and documentaries... [He pauses as he hovers the car over a clearing in the jungle. He lowers the car in between two vine covered trees just north of the clearing and we land.] Do you remember how to use your weapon?”
[I nod.] “Are we safe?”
“I don't know yet.” [Obasanjo presses a button on his dashboard to request reinforcements.] “Poachers or grave robbers.” [He says in a whisper. He lifts up a rifle he had stored under his seat and leaves the car.] “Stay here. If I do not return in twenty minutes go back to New Bujumbura. [He advances into the jungle towards the clearing with his rifle up and ready.]
[Fifteen minutes pass and a large black military transport appears out of midair and hovers over the car. The transports aft door swung open and six black armored soldiers jump off the aircraft and land all around the car. They effortlessly jump the 100 foot distance between the transport and the ground. The leader of the six taps his rifle on the door of the car and points at me with his left hand.] “Are you okay ma'am?”
[I nod.] “I am, but Mister Obasanjo went to investigate a clearing of trees just south of here. He thought there might be poachers or grave robbers.”
[The lead soldier nods at me and points to another soldier. The lead soldier and four others head south while the soldier pointed at before stayed by the car. After ten more minutes, Obasanjo and the five soldiers return from the jungle. Obasanjo comes to the car carrying a large bundle wrapped in a white sheet. The soldier who was guarding the car snaps to attention and gives Obasanjo a sharp salute. Obasanjo hands the bundle to the soldier and enters the car and lifts off up into the air.]
“What did you find?”
“The clearing was made by grave robbers who probably used it to land a transport and haul Third War artifacts away.”
“That still happens in this day and age?” [I say disgusted.]
“Unfortunately it does. Third War artifacts are big business throughout the United Systems and possibly beyond. Weapons, vehicles, uniforms, armor and sometimes bodies are mainly what they look for.”
“What was that under that white sheet you were holding?”
“A PLA soldiers remains that was stripped of everything but her undergarments. [He shakes his head in frustration.] Those thieves got away this time, but we'll catch them and they'll be sent off to Ironbound.” [He smiles.]
“Ironbound? On Pluto?”
“Yes. The Red Zone is federally protected land put aside for the revived wildlife and crimes committed here fall under military jurisdiction. So the punishment is usually far more severe, especially for grave robbing.” [Our car lurches forward and we fly towards a ruined city in the distance that was completely covered in vegetation. Its once mighty skyscrapers were now hollow steel skeletons with heavy vines snaking up to the very top of the structures. We hover over one such structure and land on its roof.]
“Where are we?”
“The ruins of what was once the city of Kigali. It saw heavy fighting during the Third War between the HIE and the A.U. The A.U. tried to stop the HIE advance here, but it failed miserably. The bulk of the A.U. Army ended up getting surrounded and then slaughtered. The Africans refugees that escaped the HIE up north also made camp around the city. The A.U. Army had assured them that they would easily stop the HIE and that they would all be home by Christmas. After the HIE destroyed the A.U. Army they gathered up all of the tens of millions of refugees and killed them too. That is way this area is full of the bones of the dead. My father did fight here, but he never did tell me exactly what happened here. It was one of the few things he never spoke to me about. So much death. It's almost hard to imagine what it must have been like to be here when the slaughter began... [Obasanjo leaves the hover car and slings his rifle to his back as he tip toes silently towards the edge of the roof. He bends down to look over the edge and a large flock of birds spooked by his presence fly off.] “COME ON OUT HERE! YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS!”
[I leave the car and I am immediately shocked by the intense heat outside. I make it to his side as he points down over the edge to the ground below.] “What is it?” [I carefully lean forward to look down.]
“Aren't they beautiful?”
[I stand mesmerized at the sight of a large herd of horse-like creatures gathered below in the crater filled streets. Some drank rain water out of the large craters and others were munching on the grass and weeds that were poking out from every crack in the streets cement.] “There must be hundreds of them? What are they?”
“Those are Equus Quagga or as they were commonly known before the Third War, Zebras.”
“Zebras? I've never seen anything like it.”
“Most humans haven't either. They've been extinct since 2059. We used DNA extracted from Zebra bone fragments from the Museum of Natural History in New York City to clone the first generation. They are now in their third generation and thriving. About 98% of the Zebras down there were born naturally in the wild. They've also begun to adapt remarkably well to this new environment. [Obasanjo motions around with his hands as if to mean the ruins.] Zebras are native to the African savannah, but somehow a herd managed to come through the rainforest and settle here. There is plenty of water for them. Most of it rainwater collected in the bomb cratered streets. They have plenty of food from natures reclamation of Kigali and they have no natural predators here. Aside from the packs of wild dogs and the occasional jungle cat. [We both look at the Zebras for some time. The heat soon becomes unbearable and I return to the car. Obasanjo follows me and we lift off again back towards New Bujumbura.]
“I have never felt heat like that on Earth. Is that normal?” [I take a huge swig out of my camelpak.]
“That is the normal temperature here and probably in most places on Earth. The Red Zones aren't weather controlled like the Green Zones are.”
“Really? I didn't realize Earth was weather controlled.”
“Yes. Didn't you ever wonder why it always snows on Christmas Day?” [We both laugh.] “The Earth has a very active and sometimes deadly weather system, so it has to be controlled. Not to mention everyone loves waking up to a sunny day of 20 Celsius with a light breeze for six days a week. They always have that one day of the week where it rains or snows. I think they do that either to switch things up or to replenish the reservoirs in the Green Zones. I forget.”
“Why aren't the Red Zones weather controlled?”
“Two reasons. The first is the D.O.I. policy of keeping the Red Zones free of human influence and controlling the weather would definitely fall into that category. The only time we interfere is if there's a danger that a monsoon or hurricane inside of the Red Zones could hit a Green or Blue Zone. That is when the D.O.I. works to kill that particular storm system. If the storm system is predicted to hit outside of the Green Zones it is allowed to hit. No matter how powerful.”
“What is the second reason?”
“Cost. It is very expensive to control a planets weather. The initial investment in resources and money needed to create the satellite network and atmosphere generators required is astronomical. There are only about ten planets in the entire United Systems that have anything like this; Earth, Mars, Sanctuary, Sgavee, Amerigo, Priver, etc. Its actually cheaper to create an artificial atmosphere then it is to bend an existing one to your will.”
“How much of Earth is covered by this weather control system?”
“The entire planet, but only 25% of it is actually in use. All of it in the 25% of the Earth surface set aside for human habitation.” [New Bujumbura comes into view and we head for the bottom of its screw-like structure. The car hovers in front of a small hanger door marked '22' and we enter as soon as its doors open. We land and Obasanjo leaves the car to open my car door for me.] “This concludes our tour. I hope you got everything you wanted out of it.” [He grins as he removes my pistol and holster.]
“Just one last question Mister Obasanjo.”
“Whats that?”
“With all of the work you've done to restore the Earth back to its pre-war beauty... what do you want to tell future generations of humans about Earth?”
[Obasanjo pauses for a moment and then speaks.] “This world is where we began as a species. It is holy. No matter what happens to it. We must cherish it. There is no other place like it in the entire universe. Should it be ravaged it again by war or disaster, I hope that future generations look at our example and chose to take the hard road and restore Earth.”
“Thank you.” [I change and leave the hanger. I just make the last shuttle to New York City. A few minutes into the flight back home I see a herd of large gray animals stampeding across the African plains. I take a picture of them with my phone which immediately scans the picture and identifies them as African Elephants. I read the article that popped up on my phone about them and stop at the words 'Extinct since 2064.'] “Not anymore.” [I smile to myself.]
NEW BUJUMBURA
MUST READ: AFRICAN HABITATION ZONES ARTICLE
SC: African Red Zone
Mon, 25th July, 2011
A D.O.I. Officer takes a woman on a tour of the African Red Zone. A story set in the Shattered Citadel Universe.
Please feel free to leave comments here. Thank you.
Please feel free to leave comments here. Thank you.