Belters

Chapter 02:

Chapter 02:AD 2100 Earth Western-Alliance – San Francisco

Over the years, private ground transportation became a luxury few could afford. It wasn’t only the monetary cost of traveling alone, it was the more painful risk of life and limb. The very act of riding alone in any transportation marked an individual as a user. A person willing to murder the planet to boost their sense of self-worth. In many eyes, users should be put to death to protect Mother Earth. No matter the century or the number of people on the planet, the fanatical people seemed to thrive.

Any person caught entering or exiting personal transportation ran the risk of being doxed via social media. An easy target for New Beginnings, Earth First, AFL, ELF, and an alphabet of other extremist organizations, both from the political right and left. Zealots had never met a political agenda they wouldn’t commandeer.

Never mind if the vehicle was made from recycled materials. The pollution-free electric motors hummed on the bulletproof transport, batteries charged by renewable energy, all made by a European combine with an international reputation for quality. Simple things like facts mattered little to the ecoterrorists that prowled the civilization Lea lived in.

Out of a nervous habit, Lea checked her pale makeup once more. The creams did a wonderful job of hiding the fine lines the past thirty-nine years had etched into her face. Dye made her hair any color in fashion at the time, anything to hide the telltale silver.

Soon she would need to make a trip to a certain Southeast Asian country known for their advancements in antiaging treatments. She didn’t need to bathe in the blood of virgins to look younger, but she would…

The three-pointed star emblazoned on the grill became a glaring symbol of excess to the ecoterrorist groups of the world. A target most would never pass up. A perfect bullseye, dead center of the car, easy to aim for.

Cream-colored leather seats caressed Lea in luxury. The disguised speakers in the car played a melodic instrumental. Across from her sat an unused, fully stocked bar, all to keep the passengers comfortable on the long leisurely ride.

Lea was in no mood for the lavish journey. Arriving in the city by ground transport greatly increased the chances her car and person would be searched. For that reason alone, she brought no firearms with her. With the Western-Alliance’s draconian laws concerning gun ownership, it wasn’t worth the risk. The lack of a proper weapon made her feel… naked.

Knowing the state of the city streets, she left an hour earlier than required. She wanted time to recon the building and the area surrounding the structure before she risked her life attending any gathering. Often, she didn’t know the people she worked for. That was part of her job, discretion and confidentiality. A huge part of her marketing campaign.

She risked a glance outside the thick, sealed window to her right. Below the orange bridge railing and through the smog, she spotted the sea wall that protected most of San Francisco from the Pacific Ocean. Crews were busy reinforcing the uppermost portions of the barrier. Anything to keep the breaking waves out of the city.

When the seas began to rise, an intelligent race might have changed the way they lived, taken drastic steps to save themselves from the inevitable destruction.

Humankind did nothing of the sort.

If anything, they doubled down on their collective insanity, using technology and geoengineering to try to mitigate the worst climate change had to offer. Each failed attempt only brought on the next insane idea to save the world.

The audacious plans all failed. CO2 scrubbers, solar blankets, mechanical trees, even the sea walls proved to be too little too late. The Earth couldn’t take the pollution, runaway population, and overwhelming strain on the ecosystem. Something needed to give, or the Earth would become uninhabitable.

More and more people left the countryside and flooded into the cities for opportunity and safety. They found neither. The local city governments were never prepared to handle the influx of migrants. Slums became overcrowded, illness spread, but still the people came.

The impending doom provided ammunition for various cults and ecowarriors to spring into being. When words failed, many of the groups turned to naked aggression. Violence, the oldest form of protest, came back into vogue. Banned in most areas, old copies of The Anarchist Cookbook were passed around, arming new generations of the disenfranchised.

The most dangerous of the groups pushed for negative population growth as its main objective. Over the years, they proved they were more than willing to help the depopulation along. Chemical, biological attacks, and public bombings became their calling card. SELP, they called themselves. A fragmented collection of Earth first groups. The acronym held many meanings, depending on who you spoke with. Most believed the letters stood for Save Earth Lower Population. The name didn’t matter, really. The deadliest terror attacks over the past fifty years had been linked or outright claimed by self-proclaimed members of SELP.

The human intervention didn’t slow the destruction of the environment. Despite the corporate claims of manifest destiny or anthropocentrism, humans were not the axle of the universe.

To protect itself, the Earth fought back. Each week, some new dire prediction came over Lea’s newsfeed. Not that the general population much cared. When a person worried if they would survive to the next dole p*****t, some long-forgotten illness ravaging the far-off land of I-Don’t-Care wouldn’t hit their radar. Most people just had too much to worry about today. Tomorrow would need to take care of itself.

Lea craved a smoke, but she knew as soon as a match touched the tip of a cigarette, the alarm would sound and the fire suppression system would fill the car. Damn the nanny state and their rules.

Dropping down to the old 101, Lea Roy leaned back and watched the homeless who littered this part of the city slip past. The parks of the Presidio had been changed into a massive tent city. Lea was certain if the roadway hadn’t been elevated, her transport would have been attacked in this slum city. There was simply too much want for the common man to not lash out. Yet the common man kept shitting out children like the doom would never reach their doorstep. Idiots remained the largest demographic of the world.

There was always the hope. A few every year made the good news section of the web. Some feel-good story on how a child pulled themselves up by their own bootstraps and turned a lifetime of want into opportunity. The fake news always seemed to forget the fact that for every one that somehow made it out of the shithole, thousands more struggled to survive the squalor with little to no hope to rise above the crushing poverty.

In this cesspool, torment fomented rebellion.

Tags of every shape and size adorned the accessible vertical surfaces. Old favorites like the circle A, Ⓐ, mixed with an ever-growing crop of new symbols calling for change and rebellion. The world died, and the people at the lowest layer of society felt the effects first. The fear oozed from the gutters to strike out at the rich.

She was used to seeing the dregs, the worst the cites of the world had to offer. That didn’t mean she liked the huddled masses. Tolerated was a better word. The last thing she wanted to do was return to the wretched refuse her planet offered. Better to die alone in a mansion than a shanty surrounded by… people.

Long gone was the famed San Francisco of yesteryear. Now it was a hell pit like every other city on Earth, waiting for the inevitable disintegration.

Times like these reminded her why she preferred the foil-wrapped sterility of space. The stations in the belt had their own problems, but they were a different sort to the social decay left on Earth.

On the corner stood a man, both eyes missing, dressed in white robes. He held high a sign, “Them are coming.” It looked written in blood. Lea cringed at the sight of the empty sockets nearly as much as the grammar error. The poor and ignorant were always willing to fall into the claws of some cult.

Lea shook her head. The arrangements for the meeting came to her with exacting detail, including the means of transportation into the walled central business district. If Lea had her choice, she would have taken an autonomous aerial vehicle, AAV, from the safe walled compound across the Golden Gate to the rooftop landing pad of the meeting building deep inside the CBD. No need to worry herself with ground transport and the dangers the surface streets entailed.

Very few drones had been fired upon by surface-to-air missiles. The eco nut jobs had not gained the weapons to take down most aircraft. On the other hand, ground transport remained an easy target. Any crazy with a rock could take a whack at a ground carrier. Not that it would do much good. Anything short of a .50 caliber sniper rifle or a rocket-propelled grenade would bounce off the reinforced hull of the small luxurious tank she rode inside.

Anyone stupid enough to touch the frame of the private car risked setting off the inbuilt nonlethal security measures. Lea’s ride was an armored taser on wheels. It would take human interaction from her to activate the lethal security systems. Her car was six tons of bulletproof materials wrapped around enough power to carry the ride down the road at a blistering three hundred kilometers per hour.

The last thing Lea wanted to do was fry some ecojustice warrior for the ever-present security cameras. Her existence relied on a certain level of anonymity. Like the best of hackers and trolls modern society had to offer, Lea needed to keep herself separate from the work she did. If her neighbors ever found out how she made her living, she would be cast out of her exclusive lifestyle. Never mind the people she considered acquaintances worked for corporations that did much worse. Her social circle proved an unforgiving lot.

The roadway into the CBD had not been completely elevated. Piss-poor city planning as far as Lea was concerned. The slums of the city layered around the impressive towers of modern corporations. A no-man’s-land for the wealthy and influential, and just as dangerous as any combat zone.

Like a modern-day Troy, an army bent on the siege of the rich camped outside the walls of the CBD. No manner of police and corporate muscle would dislodge the protestors from the street leading to the side gate.

Before the car reached the mob of homeless skeletons, the drive motor’s whine was matched with the purr of the defense system priming. Lea’s ride sensed the danger they entered and primed the high-voltage, low-amp weapon to defend the precious cargo.

Outside, the transport boomed an announcement, “Step away from the vehicle or suffer the consequences.”

None of Asimov’s three laws here. Lea knew the car meant business and would do what was needed to protect her.

The first person didn’t touch the frame of the vehicle on purpose, rather they were shoved into the side of the ride in what seemed to Lea as a deliberate act of cruelty. The teen who touched the door next to Lea flopped to the ground in spasms as soon as the car touched their outstretched hand.

It all happened so fast, Lea wasn’t sure if the person was a man or woman. Not that it mattered to the crowd. They howled in anger when the first person went down.

Not that it was Lea’s fault. It didn’t matter. Facts rarely matter to a lynch mob.

The security system of the car again announced people should stand back or risk pain and injury.

The stones started to fly. Impromptu clubs of scavenged lumber slammed against the transport. As ill-informed as the mob might be, they were not all stupid. They knew how to attack the vehicle and not be shocked. The volume inside the car increased but not loud enough to cover the sound of the attacks.

Two-liter paint cans were lobbed at the front of the car, covering the front windshield and blocking Lea’s view of the gate into the CBD.

Without help, she would be lucky to reach the safety behind the wall. If the sensors on the car were disabled, she would be screwed. No matter how thick the armor, a determined attack would eventually find a way inside.

A series of pops and white plumes of smoke was the only indication help was on the way. Despite the heavy filtration system of the vehicle, she tasted the sting of pepper spray. Guards on the wall covered her approach.

Never to let passengers stress out over the environment, the car increased the oxygen level in the cabin while turning up the volume of the insipid relaxation music. “Remain calm, the situation is under control.” The inane mechanical voice spoke softly to her.

Today wasn’t the day she’d be pulled from the safety of her ride to be murdered in the streets by club-wielding thugs. Though she expected that might be the way she one day would meet her end.

Lea relaxed slightly. The way to the CBD cleared under the rain of teargas canisters. The defenders of the gate moved to suppress the crowd. A line of plexiglass shields and truncheons marched toward the transport.

On the wall, mounted water cannons poised to strike the mob with high-pressure jets of saltwater.

Lea’s celebration proved to be short-lived. An explosion rocked the car. The storefront next to the gate erupted in a flash, shredding protestors and defenders alike before her eyes. Lea could no longer hear the hum of the drive wheels. The ringing in her ears covered all other sounds. The steady ring of automatic fire pummeled the walls of her chariot.

On the seatback, a red light flashed, “Authorize lethal force?”

Lea wasn’t a computer programmer, but she knew the basics. The vehicle that protected her had a set of normal parameters. Once a certain threshold was reached, the program would react in a given way. There was no emotion in the decision-making process.

The right to kill a human had not been programmed into this machine. Only a human could make that call.

Lea shouted much too loud. “No!”

The wheels jumped to life, pushing Lea back into her seat while the mass of the vehicle accelerated headlong toward the gate. The ringing in her ears still blocked out most sound. Her vision swirled.

The iron taste of blood filled her mouth. A single wipe with the back of her hand left a streak from her bleeding nose. The car protected her from the gas, shrapnel, and bullets, but not the concussion of the blast. The mob that rushed the gate never expected six tons of armored transport to run them down. The car did its best to follow the programing of protecting the occupant from danger while not using the deadly force it came armed with. Someone should have explained the effects of six tons of car accelerating over the squishy humans that littered the road. Those not run over flew through the air as the car bashed them to the curb.

Thankfully, the ringing in Lea’s ears covered the screams of the people crushed under the automated car.

“So much for a nice quiet entry into the city…” Lea spit the words to herself.

She needed to escape this chaos at the first opportunity.

Clear of the disabled gates, Lea shouted once again. “Stop!”

The car did as ordered.

She tried the door handle and found it locked. “Let me out!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t guarantee your safety if you leave the confines of the car under current conditions.”

“God damn it, you piece of silicone s**t, let me out of the goddamn car.”

The door popped open, and Lea found herself staring down the muzzle of a bullpup automatic rifle.

Strangely, she noticed the ice-blue eyes of the young security officer who aimed the weapon at her face. From what she could see of the man’s face, he was a pretty boy.

She was certain the color of his eyes came from the cornea overlays. He recorded everything that happened, everything he saw. All to be used against her in a court of law. In her world, people were guilty until proven innocent.

Before he spoke or Lea could make up a lame plea of her innocence, his left cheek disappeared. Bone, teeth, and blood replaced the flawless flesh that once covered the young man’s face.

The word of terror flashed into Lea’s mind: sniper. Someone over the wall was hell-bent on killing as many people as possible. Never underestimate a nut with a gun.

“Remain calm, the situation is under control.” Lea sensed an impossible tone of worry in the robotic voice. Obviously a projection of her own fears.

The music volume turned higher still.

With a dive, she made her way best she could for the nearest alley. There must be more than one sniper cityside. Thankfully, the fire concentrated on the forces that returned fire. Bullets whizzed past her. Her driverless ride did the strangest thing: it backed and turned to provide her what cover it could.

Safely behind the brick building, on all fours, Lea crawled a safe distance from the pitched battle. Slumping back against the wall, Lea struggled to catch her breath before she struck out for safer ground deeper inside the CBD. She forced herself to not look at the battlefield. Just out of sight, people died for no reason she could think of. If the rabble broke through the security forces, there was no telling what would happen.

She needed to plot her next move, but there was no time to think. The black robocar that brought her to the party lifted from the ground, flipped over by a mighty explosion. The attackers had brought several RPGs into play.

It was an escalation of force Lea never expected from the disenfranchised people of econuts in California. The city needed to retaliate in kind. She could think of no other response. This s**t was about to get bloodier.

The explosions that came next turned the battlefield at the CBD gate into a death trap. From high overhead, the overwatch drones let loose their riot suppression missiles. Three of the smart weapons were all it took. They exploded five stories above the top of the wall, peppering the buildings and streets below with armor-penetrating flechettes.

The people sheltered behind cars or inside buildings never stood a chance. The kinetic energy of the miniature missiles penetrated up to a meter of concrete. The weapon was designed to remove the human or mechanoid from any assault. The weapon worked as designed. Nothing in the blast range escaped.

Guilty and innocent alike dropped from the brutal onslaught. The little left of the bodies would only be identified with battlefield forensics.

Lea didn’t hang around long enough to explain why she entered the gate at the very moment the attack began. She doubted anyone would believe it was all a matter of bad luck on her part. Better to depart before the uncomfortable questions were even asked. There was no way this was simply bad timing.

Someone sent her into that hell hole of a death trap. Unfortunately, she had little to go on, save the letterhead on the request to meet. It came on FlyRight Corporation’s hologram watermark-protected stationery.

The paper was near impossible to fake. Someone from FlyRight wanted her dead, or someone wanted to frame FlyRight. Her only clue was the letter she carried in her briefcase. The case, in her haste, she forgot in the blown-up transport. She needed to make that meeting to see if anyone came to check on her survival. That was the only move she thought of under the circumstances.

Whoever set her up must be bright to organize such a large-scale attack on seemingly short notice. Even smarter to figure out who she was and how to bait her into the trap. She didn’t believe she was the main target. There was no delusion anyone thought highly enough of her to commit the resources to take her out in a grand fashion. Rather her presence at the gate was more symbolic in nature.

Her stalker figured out who she was and what she did for a living, and that she was motivated by gold. The last part wasn’t that hard to figure out.

They would be crazy to try such a bold plan in broad daylight. The protests outside that gate had been going on for months. The squatter’s demands were met days earlier. The loudest voices left soon afterward. This s**t made the newsfeed every night.

Her adversary was smart and crazy.

Crazy and smart always proved to be a dangerous mixture.

Lea worked her way deeper down the backstreets. For now, she needed to make that meeting. She should still get there early, her cautious nature still working to her advantage.

Hands shook as she pulled an outlawed tobacco cigarette out from a gold case and slipped it into her mouth. The tip started to smoke before she reached the end of the backstreet.

The sirens of emergency vehicles drew closer with every step she took. She should clear the area just in time. Before the authorities stepped up their sweep. There was no way she would escape the ever-present cameras.

After this meeting, she would need to disappear for a few weeks. Take a little vacation to let the heat die down.