A dark cloud loomed over the wasteland.
The toxic smog had mutilated the environment's flora and fauna, which once hosted a myriad of living beings, colorful flowers, wild and timid animals, and evergreen trees that stretched for miles through the forests. Unfortunately, the circle of life for the forest beings was lost long ago in 'The Great Fire' or 'The Great Smoke'. Most of the world's water bodies and rainforests had become toxic clusters of waste. The remaining natural habitats were heavily guarded, while a few remained unguarded due to conflicts between the ruling regime and the inhabitants. Any unauthorized entry meant they would be shot dead, imprisoned, or forced into labor camps.
The only existing tribes in the world—the Shadow Tribes and The Islanders—who escaped the bureaucracy and survived the Civil Imperial Regime were termed savages for rejecting the regime's authority. The rebels were fighting to restore the unity of the world, while Mother Nature constantly set them in conflict with the Imperial Regime. This unending conflict had united the rebels and the tribes, making them allies.
Slowly, the sun rose over the wasteland, revealing a greenish shade—a normal occurrence nowadays due to the toxic atmosphere. A vehicle roared from a distance: a four-wheeler, a solar-powered interceptor, speeding at 80 kilometers an hour. The vehicle stopped over a nearby cliff, blowing fine grains of sand-dust into the air. A heavy gush of wind blew towards the eastern side, the cloud moved away, and the sun was now clearly visible from the cliff.
A solitary visitor stepped out from the car. He was close to 6 feet tall, well-built, and muscular; he walked with a quick stride but had a slight limp caused by past injuries. A filter mask covered his face; his entire body was draped in shabby clothes, filled with sand and dust. A portion of his cloth caught on the rusty steel, which briefly revealed his dusky, sun-tanned skin, but he quickly covered it, tightening the loose cloth around him.
He knew this was the only time to charge his vehicle in these uncertain times, not knowing when he would get to charge it again. The stranger walked to the front of his car and opened the bonnet; the solar panel automatically turned up in response to the activation switch to store energy for the vehicle.
As the process continued, he stood nearby on the cliff, surveying the broken structures of buildings and bridges that were heavily guarded through the enhanced lenses of his mask. The artificial stream ended where the city landscape stopped. After that, it was a long, deserted path towards the dune, and the neutral territory began. He looked sadly at the structures, turning into dust day by day.
He then walked towards his vehicle, opened the door, and stepped inside. He removed the mask. He looked young, but his face was full of dirt. He did not remove the cloth covering his head and neck, but took a quick, short breath and checked the analogue meter of the solar panel, which he had made from world scraps. It read thirty per cent. He brought an old copy of 'Milton's Paradise Lost' from his backpack and a white envelope from the book. He put the envelope back into the backpack. He checked all the windows, which were covered with anti-ultraviolet sheets.
He reached for the bookmark and opened to the part where Eve is surprised to see the serpent's ability to speak like a human, who lures her into eating the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge...
Fawning and lick'd the ground, whereon she trod.
His gentle dumb expression turn'd at length,
The Eye of Eve to mark his play; he's glad,
Of her attention gain'd, with Serpent Tongue, Organic, or impulse of vocal Air,
His fraudulent temptation thus began...
As he continued to read, the analogue meter made a beep sound and stopped automatically. The power backup was complete. He carefully put the book inside the backpack, wore the mask, and strapped it firmly. He stepped out of the vehicle, put the panel back inside the bonnet, and shut it with a soft thud.
He stepped back into the vehicle, closed the door, and turned the ignition key, starting the vehicle smoothly. He drove through dry, steep slopes towards the Ghost City, as the locals or residents called it.
Long, long ago, the Ghost City was once one of the greatest cities in the world, thriving with commerce, culture, and technology more advanced than any other city. It was a megalopolis and had a different name which was now forgotten from people's minds or erased from the Imperial Data. The city's main resources were the mining sectors, which were a huge source of income for investors. The megalopolis had one major problem: Pollution. Pollution of all kinds initiated the Great Fire, which ultimately led to the Great Smoke. This covered the world, hampered the flora and fauna, destroyed habitats, and caused people to start leaving, dying, and moving away for survival.
After the destructive events, the water crisis happened, and strict laws were imposed to protect the remaining flora, fauna, and natural habitats. This included increased water cleaning programs and the establishment of Imperial Outposts on all water bodies—lakes, rivers, ponds, or any freshwater sources in the world—by reducing the consumption of the common people in the name of sacrifice to the New World Order. To protect the remaining habitats, a new power, the Civil Imperial Empire, rose to control consumption. Freedom has been snatched away from common people. The water bodies are heavily guarded. The latest technology pertains only to the top officials and those working for the Imperials. Common citizens are played by the regime and given rations. Their living conditions are very poor, except for those who are loyal to the regime.
As Mitra neared the Ghost City, four Imperial troopers of the regime, wearing black and white navy suits, checked the vehicle through CCTV camera footage, zooming in to identify it.
One of the troopers announced, "Not from our parts."
"Inform the Captain."
A medium-built trooper walked up the stairs and found Captain Preston, wearing a black navy suit, talking to his family through the video communicator. His eldest child was happy to see and hear him. His wife asked him when he would return to the quarters to have family time.
He replied, "By next fall, I am sure..."
"You never keep your promise..."
"This time, I will."
The Imperial trooper called out, "Captain Preston."
The Captain, a tall, slender, red-headed soldier wearing an official black suit, turned his head to see one of his fellow troopers standing behind him. He stopped the video communicator and told his wife, "Later, Dear." Then he asked, "Yes! What is it, Sam?"
Sam informed him about the unknown vehicle.
"Let's go," replied Preston, as he took out his service semi-automatic revolver.
The other three guards were busy in a conversation about the possible intruder into their usual life. "I hope he is not a rebel," said one of them.
"If he is a rebel, he will not see the light of another day!"
Two of them stepped out from the security room, put on their masks, and held their loaded weapons ready and pointed out. As the vehicle stopped near the entry gate of the city, the two Imperial troopers went forward and knocked on the glass. The visitor lowered it.
"Identifications, please," commanded one of them.
He brought out a paper registered and sealed under the Civil Imperial Regime and gave it to them.
"Mitra...heard about you... come inside..." uttered one of the troopers.
He stepped down from the Interceptor and walked towards the security room and the window glasses that were covered with anti-UV sheets. The Imperial guards pointed their guns at the visitor. The traveler took off the glove from his right hand to reveal the bar code. Mitra removed the mask and the face cloth, revealing his long hair till his neck. Sam used the bar code scanner to verify the identification and matched it with the ID details.
Captain Preston, standing beside Sam, went through the details and uttered, "Mitra, the bounty hunter of the Civil Imperial Regime. We have heard about you!"
Mitra noticed the name and the designation imprinted on his army shirt near the pocket. "Oh! Indeed, Captain."
"What brings you here?"
"I'm here to meet Admiral Arjun."
"Is this scheduled?"
"Yes."
"I don't see any records."
"It was done on an urgent basis!"
"Why do you want to meet him?" questioned the captain.
"Orders from the top. I cannot disclose it to you."
"I see. We can't let you in... unless you reveal everything to me! I am the Captain here!"
"Do I look as if I give a damn about your rank, Captain?" retorted Mitra.
"Who doesn't?"
"You are wasting my time, Captain!"
"Funny thing, you mentioned. Isn't it strange that you, being a bounty hunter, are cleaning up the wet jobs of the regime?" said the Captain.
"That's my living," replied Mitra.
"Or shall I say that you are here to kill the Admiral!"
"Even if I am here to kill the Admiral, you cannot stop me if I have the Governor's order. Can you?"
"Are you?" the captain challenged him.
"No, Captain. You are just simply wasting my time."
He came forward to Mitra. His foul breath hit Mitra's nostrils as he said, "Let us check your vehicle and give you a full body search. After that, we take you to the Admiral. If he refuses, you will be detained."
"I can assure you, Captain, it will be the opposite!"
The Captain gave him a cold look and commanded the other guards to start the search on Mitra. They stripped him of every bit of clothing in full view of everyone to check for hidden weapons or explosives. Mitra felt no humiliation, as he understood the protocol for a bounty hunter.
The interceptor was also being searched thoroughly, from one corner to the other. They scanned every inch of the vehicle and opened up some parts of it, searching for banned weapons and medicines. They found a standard issue semi-automatic revolver, issued by the Imperial Regime, and scanned the registration mark. They took out the bullets and kept them in their custody. They went through his backpack and found the book and some photos inside the envelope.
After the search was complete, Mitra dressed up deliberately and slowly, wearing each stripped-off bit of clothing and showing off his muscular physique. Now, the vehicle was ready to enter the city. Mitra wore his mask, covering the disgruntled look on his face as he watched the bullets being confiscated.
"You will get it back after the Admiral approves," said Preston, while he immediately ordered Sam, "You go with him!"
"Yes, Captain!" Sam saluted, as he quickly wore his mask and picked up his service revolver.
They boarded the interceptor.
Sam sat beside Mitra, pointed a gun at Mitra's head, and said, "Sorry! Protocol!"
"Bloody hell, it is!" Mitra replied coldly.
He switched on the ignition key and drove the vehicle inside the dusty, broken city. Vacant streets, dilapidated apartments with shut down windows, and closed shops marked their path. They reached the Imperial Building of Ghost City. Mitra parked the interceptor in the parking lot behind the building. Both of them got down. Mitra put his key back inside his chest pocket, zipped it, and walked towards the building gate—to encounter two masked security personnel outside the gate, all their masks firmly on their faces.
To be continued: Chapter 2: The Admiral