The Ambassadors

By Sean Lemon

The story opens in a dark, dingy basement where Jake, a former biomimic and the Sustainability Officer of Riverton, wakes from a drug-induced stupor. Quickly, he learns that his kidnapping and the terrorist attack at the Zero Carbon Power plant were orchestrated by none other than Clyde – the brilliant, yet socially awkward bookworm he befriended as a teenager, in high school. Together they were part of the Ambassadors for Change, a club committed to changing the world for the better. Now, alone with his memories, Jake is left to wonder how it all went wrong.

Disenchanted by society’s dangerous obsession with progress, Clyde has taken it upon himself to deliver a final wake up call to the city of Riverton. Jake has two choices: participate in Clyde’s twisted experiment or watch as his beloved city falls victim to water sickness, power shortages, and resource wars. It's a race against time. With each new test, Jake and Clyde dig deeper into their pasts, revealing secrets that threaten to destroy reputations and relationships, all the while, pushing Riverton closer to the brink of destruction.

The Ambassadors is a chilling tale set in the not-so-distant future, in a world not unlike our own. With slight tweaks to our current economic, environmental, and social fabric it asks the simple, yet terrifying question: what if?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sean Lemon
• Release date: Jan 11, 2012
• ISBN: 9781465753397

Sean Lemon

I graduated from the Arts and Science program at McMaster University in 2011, where I studied economics and environmental studies. Currently, I am pursuing a M.Sc in Environmental Planning from the University of Toronto. I am a huge fan of dystopian literature (some favourites include A Brave New World, 1984, Oryx and Crake and A Scientific Romance). When I'm not studying or writing, I enjoy spending time with friends and playing sports - particularly basketball and volleyball.

Book preview

THE AMBASSADORS

By

Sean Lemon

*****

The Ambassadors

Copyright © 2012 Sean Lemon

Smashwords Edition

Cover artwork attributed to www.viajar24h.com under the Creative Commons

*****

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

*****

To my parents for encouraging me to chase my dreams; to Bill and Sylvia, for supporting my passion to write; and to Kathleen, whose careful guidance and supervision helped bring this story to life.

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Table of Contents

The Kidnapping

An Old Friend

The Ambassadors for Change

Introductions

CluckClucks

Progress Trap

Dominoes

The Accident

WaterCorp

The Greenprint

The Blarney Stone

Zero Carbon Power

Easter Island

My Existence

The Water Riots

The Pig's Pen

The Investigation

Wake Up Call

Joe's

World Wide News

The Explosion

The Secret

The Address

The Experiment

About the Author

*****

Chapter 1 – The Kidnapping

The rope began to irritate Jake's wrists. Coarse fibre rubbing against his skin pulled him away from dreams of Rachel, back to the impenetrable darkness that surrounded him. Jake opened his eyes but could make out only the faint outline of a large table that sat in front of him. Slowly, he tried moving his feet forward. No luck. They were bound to the legs of his chair. He tried pulling his hands apart, but the rope was too tight. As it dug into his skin he let out an exasperated grunt, only to find his voice muffled by the duct tape that covered his mouth. Jake stopped struggling and listened. The only sound he could hear was the rhythmic dripping of a leaking pipe or faucet. Each drop splashed against steel, keeping time, like a metronome, counting down the precious seconds he had left.

Jake was wide-awake now, alert with fear. Shutting his eyes, he tried to focus. How did I get here? His mind was a jumble. He remembered the press conference at the injection site. The explosion. Then there was Rachel. He'd spotted her in the throng of reporters. Like a magnet, the contrast of black hair on vanilla skin had pulled him towards her. Her gaze was a force too strong to resist. Once Jake entered her magnetic field there was no escape; a lesson he knew all too well, but one that took him years to truly grasp.

He had left the platform and followed Rachel away from the crowd. Then came the blast that shook the earth and knocked them both to their knees. After that everything was a chaotic blur. There were screams and sirens, people yelling for help, mass confusion. Jake concentrated on the last memory he could recall, hoping that it would offer some clue to his current whereabouts. He remembered a parking lot, the one outside the plant. Rachel was leading him to a truck. She didn't own one, so it must have been one she borrowed from the network to cover the story. Jake had been questioning her about the explosion when he got into the front seat. How had she known it was coming? Was she involved somehow? Before he had got any answers, he felt a sharp prick in the back of his neck. Seconds later, he was drifting into a state of unconsciousness. As his eyes glossed over, all he could recall was the look on Rachel's face. Her head was turned and her soft hazel eyes were focused on something behind him. The fear in those eyes was unlike anything Jake had ever seen.

For what seemed like hours, the room remained still. The longer Jake stared into the darkness, the more hopeless he felt. His wrists were swollen from failed attempts to untie the rope. His shoulders ached from having his hands forced behind his back. He hadn't drunk anything since the morning of the press conference and his lips were dry like sand paper. Rubbing his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he collected what little saliva he had left and swallowed hard. He couldn't last much longer now.

Suddenly, a tiny emerald light appeared across the room. Its brilliant green rays penetrated the shadows, giving Jake hope. The light began to pulsate. He could hear the mechanical hum of a fan and the familiar beep of an electronic system booting up. Within seconds, two large rectangular screens emerged from the darkness. Jake instinctively turned his head away from the screens, shielding his eyes from the unexpected brightness. After some time, he cracked his eyes open and waited patiently for them to adjust.

Together the screens spanned nearly the entire length of the wall. The light they emitted illuminated the room, giving Jake the opportunity to survey his surroundings. By the looks of it, he was being held in a basement somewhere. There were no windows and both the floor and walls were made of concrete. The ceiling was low, seven feet at most, and unfinished. Jake tilted his head up and stared at the rows of wooden beams above him. It was as if the room had been cut open and left exposed for all to see. The rotten wooden beams jutted away from the foundation like ancient bones, tangled in the cobwebs of their past.

The screens were mounted halfway up the wall. Underneath was a counter with a built-in sink, the source of the incessant dripping. A series of black wires ran along the wall connecting the displays to a laptop, which sat closed on the countertop. Jake noticed a lone grey wire plugged into the USB port. His eyes followed it down the side of the counter and along the floor until it disappeared under a white sheet in the corner of the room. The sheet was draped over a large pointed object, but Jake couldn't make out what it was hiding.

Turning his attention back to the wall across from him, he realized the screens had changed. The one on the left had entered hibernation mode, while the one on the right was showing a news broadcast. The volume was muted, but the logo in the corner of the screen was unmistakable, a transparent globe with the familiar powder blue letters: WWN. World Wide News. The inevitable product of decades of globalization. Jake had never really bought into the idea of having a single organization report the news in every country around the world, especially when this reporting was done solely through electronic media. Sure he'd seen the advertisements and heard the slogan. A global network for a global village. But the thought still scared him.

Maybe it was because Jake was a traditionalist at heart. The type of guy of who liked to hold the newspaper in front of him while drinking his morning coffee. One of those people who needed to physically turn a page in order to truly connect with a story. He had no time for the frictionless touch screens of e-book readers. Maybe it was because he needed to get his hands dirty, to feel the news diffuse into him through his print-stained fingertips. Or, perhaps it was because he understood the underlying motivation of the WWN conglomerate. After all, Rachel had told him how they acquired their stories, the data mining, the privacy violations, the exploitation of social media. As much as Jake hated what the news had become, maybe it was how it got there that disturbed him most.

Studying the news feed more carefully, Jake recognized the grey and white smokestacks of the Zero Carbon Power plant. They must be showing video clips from the press conference. His stomach began to turn with anticipation. He was anxious to learn what had happened, but part of him was frozen with fear. Lee had still been on the platform giving an interview when the explosion occurred. Did he make it out safely? What about the rest of the reporters and city officials?

The angle of the video footage changed as the satellite camera zoomed in. The sun had just set on the horizon and, from a distance, the smokestacks looked like miniature cigarettes against the bright orange sky. The press conference had started in the early afternoon, so Jake couldn't have been unconscious for more than a few hours.

As the camera feed zoomed in, it focused on a series of white pipes. They started separately at the top of each smokestack, then joined together as they entered a tall rectangular building to the south of the main plant. One pipe, much wider than the others, left the opposite end of the building and continued along the ground for a couple of kilometres until it reached a dome-shaped structure. As the camera zoomed in on the dome, Jake's stomach dropped. Nearly the entire building was obscured by a cloud of thick black smoke.

The video stopped magnifying the image once it reached street level. The scene was gut wrenching. Fire fighters with industrial strength hoses in hand lined the outer rim of the dome, desperately trying to extinguish the final few flames from the blast. In the background, ambulances and police cruisers were parked along the road. Yellow crime scene tape was being set up around the perimeter of the building. Police were busy questioning security personnel. Paramedics were running back and forth, pushing victims on stretchers. One stretcher flew across the screen so fast that Jake couldn't tell if it was carrying a burn victim or a body bag.

He couldn't comprehend what he was seeing: the carnage, the destruction. He had so many questions. What had caused the blast? Why would someone try to blow up the injection site of the ZCP carbon sequestration system? Had anyone even realized he was missing yet? If only he could hear what the report was saying. Jake cursed at the screen in frustration. He then cursed at the duct tape, which had stifled his outburst.

Suddenly, a red banner appeared along the bottom of the screen. Breaking news. Jake squinted hard to read the text that ran across the banner. ZCP reports potential leak in carbon storage system. Carbon injection set to continue while maintenance team is dispatched to monitor equipment. The effectiveness of the whole plan depended on a containment rate of one hundred percent. Anything less would jeopardize ZCP's reputation as a zero emission energy company and make Jake look like a fool for encouraging the city to invest in carbon capture and storage technology. As if he hadn't taken enough heat for that decision already.

If the leak was above ground the impact on the climate would be considerable, but it would also be relatively easy to fix. ZCP would act fast. They had just as much at stake as anyone else involved in the project. To avoid fines from the North American Climate Initiative they'd ensure the repairs were made as soon as possible. Jake's real fear was that the leak had occurred underground. A leak like that would require extensive excavation around the injection pipe. Months of digging, repairing, and refilling. Such a procedure would cost millions, money ZCP and the city didn't have. He could hear the public outcry. Local environmental agencies already wanted his head for supporting clean coal technology over renewable energy development. They certainly wouldn't let him live this failure down.

A new headline appeared on the screen. Update: Mayor Lee Wilson, Advisor Jake Ryder, 12 others presumed dead after terror attack at ZCP plant. Jake hung his head and closed his eyes. He couldn't believe it. He refused to. Lee was his mentor and one of his closest friends. It was because of Lee that Jake had even been considered for the position of Chief Sustainability Officer. He couldn't be dead. Maybe he'd been rushed to the hospital and they had just lost track of him. After all, Jake was still alive. The report had already gotten that much wrong.

It then dawned on Jake: if everyone thought he had died in the explosion, no one would be searching for him. He had envisioned a massive search party lead by the city's top police officers. He figured it would only be a matter of time before they analyzed the surveillance footage from the parking lot, traced the license plate of the van, and tracked him down. But if he was already presumed dead, there would be no rescue. The little hope he'd been clinging to quickly evaporated. He was at the mercy of whoever kidnapped him and there was nothing he could do.

As Jake contemplated the hopelessness of his situation the screen shut off and the room was plunged back into darkness. He wondered how it was being controlled. There obviously wasn't anyone else in the room with him; perhaps his kidnapper was controlling it remotely from another room. At this point, Jake didn't really care. The room was like a torture chamber and he just wanted out. Out of his sweaty shirt and tie, out of the darkness, and out of the nightmare. He wanted to wake up and forget the day had ever happened.

*****

Chapter 2 – An Old Friend

It was no dream. As the minutes crept by, it became more and more apparent that there would be no magical pinch, no fall that would wake Jake from his slumber and whisk him away from the sweltering heat of the basement to the cool comfort of his bed. He longed to be in that bed, to shed his clothes and feel his arms and legs against the underside of the covers. His body ached from the rigid position he was confined to.

It was then that Jake heard a noise coming from upstairs. At first it sounded like an argument. The sound was muffled by the closed door and thick walls, but he could clearly make out a male and female voice. He couldn't hear what was being said, but judging by the man's tone, he wasn't very happy. Suddenly, there was a loud thump and the exchange ended. Jake sat motionless in his chair, straining hard to listen. All he could hear was the intense pounding of his heart in his chest.

There was a brief moment of silence, followed by a soft crescendo of wooden creaks. With each passing second the creaks grew louder. The man must be coming down the stairs. Jake began fidgeting in his seat, making an attempt to free himself. The light bulb that hung above the table slowly came to life, casting shadows around the room. He didn't have much time. The creaking had stopped and was now replaced by the echo of footsteps on the basement floor. As Jake blindly fingered the rope behind him, his eyes fixated on the door, tiny beads of sweat trickled down the side of his face. The footsteps had stopped and the doorknob was beginning to turn. Jake gave one final pull on the rope, but much to his dismay, it remained tight around his wrists. In the haunting glow of the light, he watched as the door opened and his kidnapper entered the room.

The expression on Jake's face went blank. It couldn't be. Closing the door behind him, the man walked over to the table and sat down. Jake stared dumbfounded across the table. The man smiled back, rubbing his thick oval glasses against the sleeve of his shirt as if to clean them.

Well would you look at that? If it isn't Mister Jake Ryder, Chief Sustainability Officer for the mayor of Riverton. To what do I owe this great honour?

Jake remained silent as he tried to make sense of the situation. The man chuckled as he watched Jake struggle to piece together what was happening.

I guess I’d better remove that duct tape for you, otherwise this conversation will be far too one-sided for my liking.

The man popped up from his chair and walked over to Jake. Bending down, he drew his face to within inches of Jake's ear. Slowly and deliberately, he whispered, In this room, I'm the mayor. I'm in control and you do what I say. It will be in your best interest to remember that Jake.

As the man spoke, the air from his mouth blew against Jake's ear causing him to shiver. The man proceeded to stand up and rip the duct tape off Jake's mouth. Jake winced as the tape tugged against his facial hair.

So tell me Jake, how have you been? the man asked, returning to his seat on the other side of the table. Jake remained silent, staring back at the man in contempt.

Come on Jake. This won't be any fun if you don't play along. What has it been now? Nearly two years, right? Tell me, how do I look?

The man paused, running a hand through his dishevelled red hair. Jake looked him in the eyes, but didn't respond. Continuing his charade, the man glanced down at his own faded denim jeans and wrinkled shirt.

Well, I suppose my wardrobe could still use some work. In my defence though, I have been a little preoccupied lately, what with kidnapping you and all. It was actually harder than you might -

Shut up! Jake blurted, interrupting the man mid-sentence. He couldn't take his smugness or arrogance any longer. This isn't some kind of game. What the hell do you think you're doing, Clyde?

There he is, the man chuckled. It’s about time you joined the conversation, but you're wrong, this is a game. I make the rules and you play by them. It's quite simple really.

Jake was beside himself. Do you realize what you've done Clyde? You've destroyed private property, you've killed people. The cops are still after you for what you did to Eric. Once they find a way to link this to you, you'll be a wanted terrorist. How could you do this? Why?

Clyde took a deep breath and exhaled. How and why are two very different questions Jake. The how is easy, all it takes is a good plan and dedication to that plan. The why, on the other hand, is a much trickier concept to grasp. You wouldn't understand it even if I explained it to you. No, I need to show you.

Show me what Clyde? Jake asked impatiently.

Everything will be revealed in time, said Clyde, glancing down at his watch, for now, let's just say I've set up a little experiment, one that I think you will find particularly stimulating. It's taken a considerable amount of sacrifice on my part, something you know very little about it. Don't worry though, if you want to survive this experiment, you will learn. You see Jake, pretty soon we're going to find out just how dedicated you are to saving yourself and what you're willing to sacrifice in the process.

Jake didn’t understand what Clyde was talking about or what he was planning. They were friends, or at least they had been, up until the night Clyde disappeared, but that wasn't Jake's fault. What could he have done? One moment they'd been catching up over a pitcher at the local pub, the next thing Jake knew he was being called in for questioning by the police. Clyde had vanished. The only trace he left behind was that cryptic letter addressed to Jake. A lot of good that had done. By the time the police had finished reading it the handcuffs were out and they were ready to lock Jake up as a co-conspirator. None of it made any sense.

Jake decided to try reasoning with Clyde, hoping that the awkward, insecure boy he'd known as a teenager still existed under the cold calculating exterior of the man who sat across from him.

Come on Clyde, this is ridiculous. Just untie me and let me go. I don't know what happened, but this isn't you, you're better than this.

Grinning, Clyde closed his eyes and shook his head. Don't pretend like you know me Jake. You have no idea who I am or what I'm capable of. There was a time when you may have known me, but that was long ago. The person you thought you knew is gone.

Clyde paused for a moment, his eyes glossing over as he stared off into space. It was as if he was trying to recall a memory, excavating the tombs of his mind in search of an artefact, buried deep beneath the sands of time. When he continued speaking, his voice was softer and noticeably slower.

You are right about one thing Jake, you don't know what happened. You have no idea where I've been or the things I've witnessed.

He stopped again, deep in thought. If you think about it, it's interesting how much our experiences influence our decisions, how they can shape us in the most unexpected ways. We've taken very different paths you and I, but they have both led us here, to the same table. Call me crazy, but I knew from the beginning it would always come down to me and you.

Suddenly, the digital watch on Clyde's wrist began to beep. Well, would you look at that, said Clyde in mock surprise, nine o'clock already. If you will kindly direct your eyes to the screen over there Jake, there's something I think you ought to see.

On that note, Clyde shut off his watch and withdrew a small remote from his pocket. Pointing it in the direction of the screens, he clicked a button, turning the left screen on again. The nightly news broadcast was just beginning.

"I know I gave you a bit of a teaser earlier, but I think it’s only fair if you see and hear what's been going on since we kidnapped you."

We? replied Jake.

That's what I said, isn't it? responded Clyde.

Seeing the confused expression on Jake's face, Clyde rephrased the question, Oh I see, you mean did Rachel help me kidnap you? Well yes, of course she did, and I'll be honest, there were times when I really doubted her. I knew the way she felt for you and sometimes it looked as though she might back out, but to her credit, she stayed the course. She turned out to be quite a valuable assistant in this whole process.

Jake felt sick. You're lying, he retorted, Rachel would never do that. There's no way she would agree to help you do any of this.

Are you sure about that Jake? Think long and hard. How well do you really know this woman? It's well documented that she broke your heart once before, although I'm sure you just chalked that up to your youth and her commitment issues. I know you've always had a soft spot for her, but honestly, didn't it seem the least bit weird that one day, without warning, she just jumped back into your life?

You're wrong Clyde, but even as the words left Jake's lips, he knew he no longer believed them. He remembered the countless nights he'd spent in bed with Rachel, caressing her smooth ivory skin as she lay in his arms. They would talk for hours until the first rays of dawn extended across the horizon and filtered in through the bedroom window. Jake had spent too many nights like that to question Rachel's intentions now, yet he couldn't help sensing some truth, no matter how faint, in Clyde's words. How else would Clyde know that Jake and Rachel had just recently got back together? The seed of doubt had been planted deep within Jake's subconscious. No matter how hard he tried to focus on his fond memories with Rachel, he couldn’t stop it from growing, as it fed on his fears and insecurities.

Together Clyde and Jake watched the screen as the news program began. Like the six o'clock news, the nine o'clock news was broadcast by WWN, however it was organized in a much different format. The screen was divided into three separate areas: a large square in the top left hand corner, which extended to two rectangular panels, one running along the right hand side of the screen, the other running along the bottom.

The main portion of the screen showed the current story, a video clip from the final match up of the 2027 Extreme Evolution circuit, which had been held at Riverton's Electronic Sports and Entertainment Complex. The Korean champ Lee Seung, better known by his screen name Immortal Technique, was in town making his North American debut against the top American gamer, Clay Carpenter, known to his fans as Silencer. The camera panned the inside of the multi-million dollar facility. It was built to seat upwards of fifty thousand spectators and equipped with state-of-the-art gaming technology, including the centrepiece of the venue, a massive one hundred foot screen that hung suspended over the gaming platform.

Below the footage from the match was a panel that displayed comments and messages. Viewers were able to use their mobile devices or social networks to post real-time comments on the stories being shown. The panel to the right displayed a list of the top ten local stories for the hour, ordered in terms of popularity. Beside each story was a number that corresponded to the number of likes the news story had received, the number of times people had voted, either online or through their mobile devices, to see it. It was news on demand. There was a much longer list of videos posted on the WWN website, organized by region, so as local stories gained popularity, the list on the screen would refresh to reflect the latest vote totals.

Scanning through the list of upcoming stories Jake searched for any story that might be related to the ZCP explosion. He didn’t have to look very long. At the top of the list, he found the story he was looking for: ZCP Founder and CEO Philip Rollins discusses explosion and status of equipment. There must be a leak in the carbon storage system, why else would Clyde want him to see this?

Above the list was a countdown that showed how much time was left in the current story. Thirty seconds. Glancing back at the main screen, Jake watched the final highlights of what had been an epic battle between the two greatest Evolution players in the world. Despite his situation, Jake couldn't help but marvel at the screenshots being shown. He had been a fan of e-sports ever since the first professional leagues began to appear in North America, back when he was in high school. He had fond memories of playing against his friends after school and watching his favourite gamers compete in local e-sport tournaments. Everything had been so much simpler back then.

As the match ended and the image of Clay hoisting the league trophy over his head faded from view, the message from Philip Rollins began to play. By the looks of it, the video had been taped in the ZCP corporate head office. Jake had been there once before, just over a year ago, when Philip had flown him out to discuss the terms of the contract for the Riverton coal plant. He had been all smiles that meeting; laughing and joking with Jake, relieved to have the deal complete. His expression in the video was far less jovial.

Philip sat behind his light oak desk, dressed in a beige turtleneck and kaki pants. He was an Englishman in his early thirties, with thick blond hair parted down the middle, and combed to both sides. He'd founded the company six years earlier in England, but after two years chose to relocate