The Industrialist

Surprisingly, Flanegan had conducted his responsibilities just as a TOR would do on the first day of production. He prepared the men, spearheaded workflow arrangements, plotted manpower schedules, and checked raw material inventories. He was actually skillful.

However, Lance knew that Flanegan was playing a game. And he should outwit Flanegan to prevent a fatal fall. Lance promised himself that if ever Flanegan would do clandestine sabotage like before, he would punch him in the face this time.

As soon as he arrived at his condominium, he found his fabrication table was empty. Damian successfully hauled the Ultragenerator to the rebel camp.

All he needed to do was escape from his bodyguard's watch. His vision trained outside through his transparent wall. His fear of being caught by the Abominated humans still lingered. There was no news on the whereabouts of those creatures. The thought of it worried him.

Even so, he had to travel to the rebel camp as soon as possible to activate the Ultragenerator.

A knock startled him once again.

He answered the door and found Damian outside.

"Perfect!"

"Ready for a ride tomorrow?" Damian said.

***

Early morning.

It felt strange wearing the gas mask again. A discomforting feeling crept on his face. His nose had difficulty breathing, or maybe the pressure that played mind tricks on him, triggered his effortful breaths. He shoved the feeling. Such weakness in the mind should not be entertained.

Damian drove the jeep smoothly. The dusk of dawn and the crisp of cold wind lashed on their vehicle, creating clusters of fog on their windshield.

They managed to escape from the unrelenting eyes of his bodyguards. They outran them and used sudden corners that masked their location.

"Damian, I heard that the SHF are now hunting the outsiders. Have you heard some news?"

"Yes. I have heard from Jefferson. He restricted him from going further away from the base to trade. The clans are now in hiding. They can't make it through the Demetrian Season."

"It's a strategy, Damian. It's Leric. He's desperate. I don't know why. But I think they are looking for something."

"Could it be Menks?" Damian asked.

"There's a possibility. I have heard also that Menks and the Corporation is secretly manufacturing a weapon of mass destruction."

"That's what Jefferson is asking of you. The location of that weapon."

"I don't know how but I will get it in time, Damian."

"We don't have that much time, kid. Remember that."

After a few hours, they arrived at the prison. The fog still crept through the woods that embraced the external fences of the prison. The facility was well hidden.

The dark overcast had a more pronounced hue, Lance had only a slight inclination that such color also would depict an incoming danger – Demetrian season.

The beaten barbed wire fence still proved its stability. Two rebel guards opened the gates for them. After the barbed interlink fence, sprawled a barren land. Dead abominated dogs were collected by some of the rebel guards and piled in locations. They burned them. Read latest stories on empire

"They can smell us. They are aggressive now, sniffing and attacking without fear."

"How come they passed the barbed fence?" Lance asked.

"Through a gap. Our comrades are fixing it right now."

They disembarked their vehicle after they parked in front of the prison's façade. The whitewashed structure still stood with utmost integrity. Two large metallic doors opened before them. The way it was opened, the screeching metallic hinges on the sides gave Lance gooseflesh.

"Let's proceed in the office. They have a council meeting now. Maybe you have something to report to Jefferson?" Damian said.

"No. Let them be. I am just here to operate the Ultragenerator. This is way more important than facing the council."

Lance felt further pressure on his shoulders upon facing the Council. He knew that the rebel faction was now pressed with challenges on a daily basis.

They passed on halls with prison cells on the sides. The prison cells were converted to rooms. Family members had slept on the floors, finding ways to make the best of a ten to fifteen-square-meter prison cell.

However, the prison facility seemed to be vast enough to accommodate the rebel members and even evacuees of the attacked survivors.

"They need weapons," Lance said.

"Weapons?"

"Yes. You need poison bombs and armaments. You need high-caliber weapons that can kill level-3 Abominants. Serious firepower."

"How can you manage that?"

"I can design. But you should help me build them. There are many applications for the Aiveez nectar. We can use it as bullets in your weapons. We can even modify weapons, better than lasers."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Really, how can you come up with that with your hectic schedule."

"I will train the members to become scientists. To become like me. To navigate on fabrication tables and read schematics. I can do that. But I need volunteers."

"I can give you volunteers."

"We need to prepare for the Demetrian Season. And of course, the SHF raids. I will raise money for the resource procurement. Help me with my businesses."

"Don't worry about that," Damian said and waved to Joe and George in the cafeteria having their breakfast. At first sight of the kid, the two ceased from eating and darted to him. Their faces were plastered with elation.

"Boss!" It was Joe who shouted, and everyone in the cafeteria glanced in their direction. "Have some bite!"

Seeing the two of them had somehow made Lance relax. For all his introverted life and living alone, he considered them his friends. Trust for Lance was one of the scarce resources of this age, somehow the two had proven to be authentic. And Lance trusted them.

"Nope, thanks. I am going to operate the Ultragenerator now."

"I heard boss that you are hailed as the Savior of Steelpoint back in the city. You are all over the news." Joe said.

Lance only nodded at that. Seemed the rebel members were also convinced of his worth. The news somehow had reached the Outsiders. Without the luxuries of Television, the traders talk and let the word flow from tongue to tongue and from place to place.

After the Cafeteria, they went to a utility room where grime and moss had invaded. Cobwebs also crept on the corners of the room, somehow, it surprised Lance that the lights were still functioning despite the dilapidations.

Moreover, the AC in the facility had obvious inconsistency. Sometimes, he went inside rooms that would crisp his fingernails, while other sections of the facility such as the utility room felt uncomfortably warm.

'The vents,' He thought, craning his neck towards the overhead network of installed vents. Sweat loomed on his forehead and under his shirt. Nevertheless, he continued with work.

His Ultragenerator sat near the fuse box and electrical panel boards. Damian, Joe, and George were behind him.

"Now, let's see if this works," Lance said.