March 21, 2063, 2230 Hours, Bay-Delta Coastal Protection Zone, Oakland, California
The night air was cold and blustery. Wind gusts laced with raindrops swooped in to warn us that storms were coming. Jabari led the way, as Tati and I followed him toward the bars of blue neon light marking the entrance to Fruitvale Landing. He had security clearance to board the inner transit lines, and apparently his family’s rank within the regional authority granted him the right to bring two colleagues — provided, of course, no one had a mark on their records. I assured them my past was clean, though I did wonder whether any of my pre-teen shoplifting sprees ever made it to the corporate vidnets.
Jabari flashed his Golden Gate Authority badge to the attendant. “Good evening,” said Jabari. “Headin’ over to China Basin to check on some spawning grounds I’m overseeing. These are a coupla my insomniac volunteers.”
The attendant remained composed and indifferent as he scanned Jabari’s badge. “Please step forward and look into the scanner,” he said, gesturing toward Tati and I. Tati went first, placing her chin on the rest plate. A matrix of red laser light flashed across her eyes, followed by a green overhead glow. “You’re clear,” said the attendant. I was next.
I hesitated. What if there WAS something damning in my records? I didn’t want to jeopardize the mission! I calmed my nerves and stepped toward the scanner. “It’s okay,” said Jabari, flashing another smile. “Nobody cares about your late night swims past the safety buoys.”
Relaxed by his jokes, I plopped my chin on the rest plate and looked face-forward. The red light scanned my retina, then abruptly stopped in mid-sweep. The attendant looked at me with sudden concern. I began to panic. Oh shit! What do they have on me? Metal cuff-links quickly curled over my wrists, trapping me in the scanning chair. What the FUCK?!
“Hold on,” said the attendant as he checked the readout. “The system’s been a bit buggy lately. Looks like it was just a malfunction.” A feeling of cool relief swept over me as the metal links retracted. I stood up calmly so as not to arouse suspicion.
The blue barrier bars receded, and the attendant motioned for us to pass. We walked close together, heading straight for the escalator to the overhead train cars. Entering our car, I couldn’t help but notice how spartan and new everything looked: spotless plush seating lined each side of the aisle, which was covered in smooth, translucent plating. Most passengers were immersed in vidchats or augmented reality gear sets, while others relaxed in spacious seats with full reclining position. I’d never seen that before! I pulled out my vidpad to snap a photo of the spectacle.
Jabari grabbed my arm, pulling me into an empty seat next to him and Tati. “Probably best to keep that tucked away,” he whispered. “Some of these folks report to higher-ups in the Authority, or serve as security detail for San Francisco elites. They may not appreciate your photography practice like I do.” He winked at me, prompting me to pocket my vidpad.
The ride to the new transbay tube was smooth and comfortable — and deeply disturbing. Along the way, I saw how the waterfront neighborhoods had become one long strip of gentrified playgrounds for the rich: Alameda Shores, Brooklyn Basin, Jack London Estates. All had become their own gated economic enclaves, complete with their own security forces and their own cultural identities, connected to the inland flats only through access checkpoints.
“Don’t look so sad,” Jabari said, taking my hand. His palm was warm and reassuring. How is this guy so confident? And so steamin’ hot? I turned to Tati, who was caressing his shoulder. All I could do was smile at them, wishing desperately to quash my emotional salad of excitement, sorrow, and fear. “These places are just last-ditch attempts to hold on to a dying age.”
I gave him a goofy look of disbelief. “Oh, is that what they are?” They seemed more like a military occupation to me. “Please explain, oh wise one.” I couldn’t help teasing him a bit.
He tried hard to put on his serious face, but couldn’t hold back a grin. He gave me what I chose to think was a flirtatious stink-eye, and we all broke out laughing. After the final East Bay stop, we began our descent into the transbay tube. Jabari got himself together and continued: “Seriously though, none of those ‘hoods could survive without the protection of the Authority. And they’re almost completely powered by the bay’s wave energy coming from Goldilocks.”
Tati interjected: “So take away the barrage, and there goes their power — and most of their shoreline.” That prospect was starting to sound a bit far-fetched, not to mention messy as hell.
“And how exactly do you plan to do that?” I asked. “And where would all the fancy shoreline grabbers go, once the lights go out and their flats start flooding?”
Jabari motioned for us to keep our volume down. I’d almost forgotten that we were surrounded by economic dependents of the Golden Gate Barrage. Lucky for us, they were completely oblivious to our scheming. “Not here,” he said in a hushed voice. We paused our little conspiracy of three, and sank back into our seats. After a few minutes, a sudden surge of light filled the car, followed by the sound of crackling electrical wires. Our car began lurching forward in faster and faster bursts along the track, followed by a fading series of counter-force corrections. The lights dimmed for a moment, then returned to normal, along with our speed.
“What was THAT?” I pleaded, looking to our resident sage for some insight on the matter.
“It’s the barrage,” he said. “There must be quite a storm brewin’ up there. My pops and his team have been working to stabilize the power buffers. But the superstorms are getting too much for ’em to handle. It’s only a matter of time before an electrical surge more powerful than that takes out the whole grid.” He pretty much all but said it: we were simply going to speed along what Mother Nature had already intended.
Our car began to slow as we approached San Francisco’s eastern edge. “We’re getting off at Embarcadero Station,” said Tatiana. “We’re already late, so we have to hurry.” We exited and dashed up the stairwell, as the escalator system was out of order. Sheets of hard rain pounded the city streets, interrupted only by random bursts of lightning. How are we going to make it through all this? We don’t even have raincoats! Covering our heads with our jackets, we crossed an overpass leading across a flooded block of California Street. An interconnected network of walkways had been constructed above street level to allow second-floor access to buildings with water-logged first floors. After a series of hairy turns, we boarded the elevated train line leading to Fort Mason.
I couldn’t shake the vision I now had of floodwaters suddenly creeping up the Oakland embankments, with thousands of new residents streaming out to what’s left of our flatland ‘hoods. Had Jabari and the rebels really thought this through? Once the barrage stopped functioning, there’d be so much panic, so much confusion, and — most likely — so much violence. I wished I was somewhere else. I wanted justice for Benito and all of us who’ve been cast aside so mercilessly, but there had to be some other way.
“What’s up, Mari?” asked Jabari. This guy can already read me like the back of his hand.
I looked at him for a sign. Some indication that he was conscious of the gravity of his actions. I knew Tatiana wouldn’t be with him unless she believed him to be a man of his word, but was he also guided by soundness of mind, or simple revenge? “I need to know we are trying to save lives here, not cause more misery. For anyone,” I said.
Jabari gave me a look of relief and admiration. “Tati warned me how amazing you are, Mariela,” he said. “All I can say is that I’m grateful you’re here with us tonight.” He paused and looked into my eyes. “We’re not going to ask you to do anything you don’t want to. We simply want justice for our communities and a return to balance.”
I couldn’t help but feel a sense of ease at his words. Tati gave me a side hug in solidarity. “You’ll soon meet the others,” she said. “I think you’ll like what you’re about to hear.”
We reached the end of the line, and began a mad dash for the entrance to Fort Mason. The night guard was composed of two groggy officers, one of whom casually examined Jabari’s badge and waved us in. Thankfully, the storms had calmed somewhat, giving our soaked jackets a chance to dry out a bit. We ducked into one of the old buildings close to the hillside, and were relieved to feel the warmth of a blazing fire. At least a couple dozen mostly young men and women sat around it on roll-out rugs and concrete blocks.
“Jabari!” exclaimed a heavier-set, beautifully adorned woman near the hearth. She radiated a powerful air of confidence as she strode towards us. Her skin was reddish brown, her hair was long, dark, and silky, and her clothes were covered with bright, multi-hued feathers. “We were beginning to wonder if you were coming,” she said, looking at him with a touch of disappointment.
“Our apologies, Ramay,” said Jabari, lowering his head. “I couldn’t risk a comms trail between us. We had some minor delays along the way.” He held out his arm in my direction, and spoke aloud to the group: “Friends, please welcome our newest ally, Mariela Rodriguez, a displaced Oakland native of many generations, whose younger brother just died from toxic pollution after last night’s refinery blast in Richmond.”
Those gathered around the fire stood up and began walking over to me. Nearly everyone wore Authority badges like Jabari. So THAT was how this was going down. It’s an inside operation. They greeted me warmly, shook my hand and offered their condolences. Most were sons and daughters of senior Authority personnel. All had witnessed the trauma it had brought to shoreline communities, and the corrupt leadership that had seized control. I could sense their sadness, but also their collective determination.
Ramay stepped back towards the fire, and turned to face the group. The flames seemed to increase in intensity as they lapped furiously skyward behind her commanding presence. “Friends, the time has come for us to reclaim our homeland,” she began. “We do not seek harm to our fellow earthly travelers here in the bay. Only a return to free-flowing waters, liberated shores, and safe homes for all our peoples. The Golden Gate Barrage promised us much, but in the end, it became a tool of oppression. Its time has passed.”
The group nodded in solemn agreement and took a moment of silence to honor Ramay’s words. Jabari stepped over to a clear section of the room and mounted a small device on the wall. He switched it on, revealing a projection schematic of the barrage, complete with security checkpoints. “We all know what’s at stake,” he said. “Remember: only eight of us need to get inside for this to succeed. Twice that many have agreed to seek entry, in case any of us are turned away. Thank you for your courage. We know you are risking a great deal.”
He stopped for a moment to scan the room, meeting the eyes of those who must have self-selected for the mission. Tatiana stepped towards him and curled a supportive arm around his back. He turned to give her a quick kiss and then continued: “Each of you with badges will be accompanied by an authorized ‘colleague’ who is, of course, offering critical technical assistance with your Authority-approved projects.” He snuck in a slight grin.
“But what if we’re rejected at security?” asked a young woman in the front.
“We’re counting on it,” said Jabari. “Part of their late night protocol is to deny entry to some, even authorized personnel. We just don’t now how many. So let’s not tip ’em off by resisting in any way. Simply smile and say you’ll come back another time.”
He went on to assign teams to entryways on both sides of the barrage, and explained the plan: we would synchronize the shut down of most of the dam’s power buffers by putting them in diagnostics mode at several maintenance control stations. In that state, even normal seaside water pressure might be enough to cause a system overload. But with tonight’s storm-powered waves, it was almost a certainty.
“Once you’re in position, simply send your coded signal to the group,” he said. “When we’ve reached critical mass, our comms system will give the green light. Good luck, everyone. Future generations will thank you for your bravery.” Jabari and Tati mingled with a few members of the mission contingent, then wandered over to me.
“I hope we inspired some confidence in us,” said Jabari, fishing for a sign from me. I nodded and smiled, reflecting a sense of hope that I genuinely felt. Granted, I still had reservations about how things would shake out, but the plan seemed solid. “I’m glad,” he responded, smiling back. “If you’re up for it, I’d like you to join me tonight.”
That took me aback. Why wouldn’t Tati be his partner? These two seemed made for this mission! “Amiga, I’d raise too much suspicion,” said Tati. “They know I’m not a professional colleague, and, pues, I’ve been kicked out before.” I needed to hear that story sometime, but immediately understood. We simply couldn’t risk it.
“Okay,” I said, “I’ll do it!” A sudden rush of dread and excitement came over me.
Jabari gave me a warm embrace, then gave Tati a passionate farewell kiss. Damn, I wouldn’t mind a bit of that myself, I thought. He motioned for me to follow him, and I happily obliged. A ferocious wind tunnel greeted us as we exited the building toward the marina. A few blocks ahead, Goldilocks towered above the inner bay, holding back the angry sea. Its warning beacon was spinning wildly, providing at least some signal lighting to any vessels caught in the gathering storms. The walk was tough and cold, but we made good time. Soon we were at the base of the winding path leading up to the southern entryway.
We passed another guarded neon blue bar barricade, no questions asked, and proceeded through a long glassed-in access corridor overlooking the southern span. The rains were getting stronger again, and the lightning blasts more frequent. I glanced seaward: at least a dozen large trade ships were bouncing on the waves, waiting patiently for the storms to subside before making their way to the locks. A thick sheet of rain smacked loudly against the glass, causing me to jump. “You’ll live,” joked Jabari, grinning back at me.
At the far end of the corridor, a lone silhouette appeared. Jabari stopped, staring ahead with disbelief. I had no idea what was going on, but I knew something was terribly wrong.
“Jabari?” asked the figure, as he walked calmly towards us. “It is you. I guess I should have expected this. When you stormed off, I knew you must be up to no good. I should have trusted my instincts and revoked your security clearance. I’ve never been so ashamed.”
Jabari’s head sank a bit, and he reluctantly stepped forward to meet his father. “Pops, please listen. You don’t know what I’ve seen. What the barrage is really doing,” he said.
“Don’t ‘Pops’ me!” said his father, clearly incensed that his son would even be here. “You’re planning something. What? Some kind of sabotage? Whatever it is, it’s nothing more than some sorry attempt to inflate your ego, to satisfy your sense of moral righteousness. You can’t imagine the damage you’d cause, the lives you’d destroy, if you had your way.” I had to admit: his dad really knew how to get under your skin.
Something shifted in Jabari. I could sense a newfound determination from him as he stepped closer to his father. “Dad, I know you’ve put your heart and soul into this. I know you mean well. But I’m sorry to say you’ve been played,” he said.
Jabari’s father seethed in anger. He raised his fist in the air and shook it vigorously. “I raised you better than this!” he screamed. “Whatever crazy conspiracy you’ve got messing with your head, it doesn’t change the fact that we’ve given our people a second chance. We were losing over 100 square miles of coastline every few years before the barrage.” He looked upon Jabari with the face of a father betrayed, wracked with disappointment.
The pounding rains became even more violent, mirroring the growing tension in the air. In the corner of my eye, I saw one of the larger trade ships being pushed ominously close to the barrage, swaying wildly from side-to-side. Jabari kept pacing toward his father in a slow, suspicious manner. I stepped back, sensing the need to keep my distance.
“We can’t hold the rising seas back forever, and you know it,” said Jabari, raising his voice. “And those who you’ve wrongly chosen to serve have already destroyed the communities you claim to protect! It has to end, pops. I’m sorry it had to be this way.” He lunged toward his father, and plunged a tranquilizer syringe into his hip. Jabari held him close, breaking his fall as his increasingly limp body collapsed to the ground.
What the fuck was going on? Jabari EXPECTED this? My legs began to carry me away, almost involuntarily, back toward the main entryway to the corridor. Jabari was far ahead now, peering toward me with a look of panic. “Where are you going?” he cried.
Just then, the bone-chilling sound of groaning metal roared through the corridor. The storm waves were actually starting to strain the stability of the barrage itself! I could feel a slight sway in the structure beneath me. Outside, a blinding burst of lightning flashed across the western skyline, revealing a huge oncoming wave, easily 20 feet high. Atop the wave was that enormous trade ship, its corporate logo painfully visible as its hull smashed squarely into the barrage’s central barrier. My body flew into the glass, as the massive blow from the trade ship buckled and ripped through Goldilocks’ upper levels. I fell to the floor, which had shifted to a decline, angled at least 10 degrees bayward. This thing wasn’t going to last more than a few more minutes. I had to get out of here!
I looked over to Jabari, and saw him desperately lurching toward me as a wall of seawater began to envelop him. “Jabari!” I yelled. “Jabari!” But it was too late. He slipped and fell into the downward sidewall that had already become a river. I only had seconds before I would be swept up as well. So I lept away as best I could, pushing against the lower wall to keep my balance. At the entryway, there was no sign of the guard, and the security bars weren’t functioning. I dashed for the access pathway and sprinted as fast as possible.
Once at a safe distance, I turned to face it: the massive, once-impenetrable Golden Gate Barrage was now reeling, split in half with a gaping wound that would never heal. Water gushed through the center ravine that had formed by the crash, ripping off more and more sections of the barrage with explosive abandon. I saw at least two more trade ships smash over the opening, then crash into the barge that had struck the fatal blow.
It’s all over now, I thought. There’s nothing to stop the rising tide. Now we must simply learn to adapt. All of us. I noticed the sky becoming blacker, but not because the lightning had subsided. I turned to face downtown. A rolling blackout was blanketing San Francisco in darkness. The city had come to rely on the barrage for far too much. It would now have to learn to live within its means. Perhaps even in balance.
§ § §
March 21, 2068, 1030 Hours, Rolling Hills Memorial Park, Richmond, California
I laid a dozen lilacs on little Beni’s tombstone. Five years ago, he lost his life. Some say it was lost due to pollution from the refinery blast. I say it was lost to indifference, corruption, and greed. I permitted myself a smile as I recalled that the refinery was now merely a fading memory — completely flooded and rendered “beyond repair” by local authorities following the destruction of the barrage. Most of the newly minted coastal ‘hoods also suffered the same fate: complete and total destruction. Very few of the pampered newcomers could stomach living among us lowly flatlanders. So most retreated to the hills or to other wealthy enclaves, where they’ve once again started building new barriers and checkpoints to keep out the riff-raff. I even heard that some corporations and construction outfits are working on a major fortress for San Francisco’s power elites.
Whatever. They can hide away, and wall themselves off to their hearts’ content. Meanwhile, the rest of us have actually been afforded a gift: an opportunity to begin anew. I recently joined the Bay Conservation Corps, which was quite easy, given my connection to Jabari. He’d become somewhat of a legend in the years following his death. I chose to keep his secret. No use in tarring his name — or risking my own arrest, of course. I figure if the Bay Area was being handed a clean slate, I may as well grant myself the same.
Who knows what the future may hold? With all the monumental challenges we face, it won’t be easy. But somehow, some way, we’ll make it through. We always have, and always will.