Mount Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest, Washington
Garry Suzuki leaned over from his perch, staring down at the loggers gathered below as he held up his cellphone to record what was about to happen. “You’re all murderers! Trees are living creatures and have rights! Every time you cut down one of these majestic beings, you mortally wound Mother Earth, you weaken Gaia even more. Once you wound her enough, she’ll die, and us along with her.”
“You’re a nutbar you eco-Nazi piece of shit terrorist! If you don’t get out of that tree, I’m going to get my shotgun and blow you off that branch myself!”
Suzuki grinned, the logger’s reaction exactly what he wanted. Death threats. They made for great PR, helped further the cause, and allowed for charges to be sometimes laid, though today the few police gathered seemed to be ignoring the crime just committed. No matter, he had it on camera, and when he returned to what modern man considered civilization, he’d upload it to the web for the world to see.
He rolled back into his perch, nestled among the massive branches of the Douglas Fir, the chains holding him in place uncomfortable, though more for show. They were lightweight, in reality only looped around him once by necessity, the rest out of his commitment to the cause. It was the handcuff linking him to the end of the chain that was the true bond merging him with this beautiful tree. He had no key, and he had filled the lock with Krazy Glue. No one was getting these off him without a fight.
And it was a fight.
Modern man was destroying the planet through living in a way nature had never intended. Sprawling cities, built from concrete and steel torn from the ground, acted as massive heatsinks that warmed the planet, sucking in nature’s bounty every day before regurgitating it through tons of garbage and liquid waste. The earth was never meant to sustain so many people in such a concentrated area. The proof was what would happen if the system shut down.
It would be disastrous.
Millions would die.
He had no desire to see that. He wanted people to move out of the cities and embrace a simpler lifestyle, not driven by consumerism. Simple meals prepared with ingredients from local farms, modern technology leveraged to provide clean, renewable power, and telecommuting allowing people to work among nature rather than the concrete jungle. A life centered around family, friends, and community, where nature and healthy lifestyles were the norm, rather than fast food and video games. A return to respecting the land, respecting the planet, and saving it for future generations to enjoy.
It was a dream, one that would never come true in his lifetime, but he was determined to do his part, so that when he did die, and faced the great cosmic creator, he’d be able to look Her in the eye and tell Her that he had tried his hardest, and if She agreed, She’d grant him entry to a life of eternal oneness with the living planet, Gaia.
He sighed, closing his eyes as a smile spread across his face, actually looking forward to the day when he did finally die. Part of him wanted that ignorant logger to go and get his gun, to make good on his threat, and shoot him out of this tree. He’d die for his beliefs, and his eternity would be set, a martyr for the cause.
A black SUV pulled up on the logging road, a man and woman in dark suits and sunglasses climbing out.
Feds. What the hell do they want?
The man stepped closer to the tree and stared up at him. “Are you Garry Suzuki?”
“Who wants to know?”
“I’m Special Agent LaForge, this is Agent Alfredson, FBI. I need you to come down immediately.”
“That’s never happening, pig! It’s my human right to be here!”
“Get your ass down here now, asshole!” shouted one of the loggers.
Special Agent LaForge held up a hand, silencing the loggers, now even more riled up with the arrival of the Federal Government. “Sir, you are under arrest for acts of terrorism against the United States. A full list of charges will be provided to you when you come down.”
Suzuki’s eyes widened.
Terrorism?
“What the hell are you talking about? I’m sitting in a tree, saving it from those terrorists!” he yelled, jabbing a finger at the loggers.
“Sir, are you a member of the Utopians?”
“Proud member!”
“Sir, your organization, the Utopians, have admitted to being behind the recent attacks on our infrastructure. By order of the President, this organization has been named a terrorist organization, and all members terrorists. Do you deny you’re a member of this organization?”
“Never!” His chest tightened, that perhaps not the wisest of responses. Yet none of this was making sense. What terrorist attacks was he talking about? He had been in this tree for three days. He had no idea what was going on five trees over, let alone around the country. There wasn’t exactly Internet access here.
“Sir, if you don’t come down, we’ll have to force you down.”
“Come on up and just try it!”
LaForge shook his head. “No, sir, you misunderstand. We have no intention of putting our lives at risk, and we have no time to waste.” He turned to the loggers. “Who wants to cut down a tree?” Half a dozen men raced for their pickup trucks, brandishing chainsaws moments later. LaForge turned back and stared up at Suzuki. “Your choice.”
Suzuki’s heart sank. They were going to cut down the tree, even with him in it.
Bullshit!
It was ridiculous. Police wouldn’t do something like that. It would be against the law. He was just a protester. He could see the loggers doing it, they were already murderers, but not FBI agents. It made no sense.
They think you’re a terrorist.
He frowned. If he were an Islamist terrorist, sitting in a tower, they’d shoot him without hesitation. And if that’s what they thought of him, if something indeed had happened, and the organization he represented was being framed—for that’s what it had to be, there was no way his group would commit violent acts—then they might just kill him. “Wait! I’m coming down!” He began to extricate himself from the chains, then cursed, staring at the handcuffs. “Umm, I’ve got a problem.”
“What?”
He held out his hand. “I can’t get these off.”
LaForge stepped back, pointing at the tree. “Bring him down.”
The loggers stared at each other, confused. It was clear they had assumed the FBI agent was bluffing, yet now the order had been given.
“Umm, you serious?”
LaForge pointed up at Suzuki. “You know what’s been happening around the country? All the people that have died because of those hacks?”
Heads bobbed.
“Well, it was his group that did it.”
The one who had threatened him earlier glared up at him. “That’s good enough for me.” He fired up his chainsaw. “Hang on, asshole, I’ll be seeing you soon!”