The Program [COMPLETED]

Chapter Eleven

Aiden had visited Oslua City on two separate occasions, not including his most recent and current expedition. He'd visited the city once for a Consignment Day, some odd years ago back when he was a fairly new soldier. The other time was on an old mission that Aiden and Virgil had completed together. Looking back on it now, it was a pretty minor mission, but back then, it was the most important thing to ever happen to two boys fresh out of the Recruitment Centre. He and Virgil were seventeen at the time, and had successfully completed their admittance exam. They were assigned to a quarantine management patrol in the city, as Oslua had been hit pretty hard by a new virus sprung from the wastelands of Creatan. It had been Aiden and Virgil's job to do regular virus checks on civilians by knocking from door to door on each of the homes in their assigned areas. The disease had been particularly rampant in the poorer sections of the city, where the slums were dirtier and people couldn't afford their vaccinations.

From what Aiden remembered, Oslua was a glassy and urban landscape of skyscrapers so tall, they stretched far into the sky as if they challenging the very clouds above them. The glass structures were often blinding in the midday light, and the streets below were organized into tidy grid patterns. Houses dotted the city all over. Aiden could see Oslua's radio tower and power plant located beside the Government Building, as well as long strips of farmland far beyond in the countryside. Oslua City was one of the largest cities in Second Unit's sector, which made it one of Creatan's key agricultural producers.

But now, the city was in ruins.

Smoke plumed from buildings, once glossy and mirror-like, now cracked and blackened by recent fires. Orange flames wildly licked up debris on the streets and in houses that once stood peacefully. Now the homes were reduced to ash and rubble. The entire city looked tired and dark; not at all like the city Aiden remembered from his past. Just as Zariah had said, the nano-tech had targeted everything from the electrical to the gas in every building within the city. The damage was noteworthy, but the logic of it made sense; reducing the collateral damage of a certain area offered by traditional nukes or missiles and filling them with tiny robots that would create a series of smaller explosions all at once. At least the cities would be somewhat intact. Xylem had described the whole ordeal as cleaning up Scarlet Cross Squadron's mess, but now Aiden was starting to think it might be the other way around.

Aiden noticed with a burning anger that the farmlands of Oslua were completely untouched, along with the farm workers that tended to them. The rolling hills of corn and other crops swayed gently in the breeze. Aiden spotted hundreds of farmhands working away in the fields. It seemed that not even an air strike allowed for them to have a day off. The sight made Aiden feel sick to his stomach.

From within the helicopter, Aiden looked around to see that his friends had come to the same conclusions as him. Virgil's fists clenched and unclenched, as if he were thinking about punching something, while Farley and Darius wore grim expressions. Jace shook his head in disappointment,and Zariah stared down at her feet.

"Oslua was my Consignment Day assignment last month," Farley murmured absently. He folded his arms across his chest, remembering the city in its former glory. "It's a shame seeing it like this."

"And there are three more cities like this?" Darius asked quietly. He was the youngest of the group; only seventeen. The same age as Aiden when he'd visited Oslua for the first time. Jace patted him on the back.

"Wasn't always like this," he sighed. "Not even close."

"How many fatalities were reported?" Virgil spoke. The tension was prominent in his voice. He hadn't stopped clenching his fists. It seemed that Xylem's proposition of letting him go out into the field hadn't pacified Virgil for long.