Better for Everyone

Chapter 6: Coding Chaos

Islamabad, Pakistan.

The one secret to viral videos is that they have to produce emotion. That emotion is usually laughter or amazement, but on occasion a viral video will produce anger of the most raw and visceral kind.

The video of the mass execution of Muslims in Chicago was uploaded with the hashtag #ChicagoPocket. The video was first watched by a history professor in England who had an alert set up for anything coming out of the Chicago Pocket due to his keen interest in modern day sieges from Stalingrad to Sarajevo. He shared the video with some colleagues who in turn shared the video on Facebook with their students. One of those students was a Pakistani teenager, living in England, whose brother happened to be Dr. Drizzle - the most popular rapper in Pakistan.

Dr. Drizzle posted the video on Twitter for all of his 4.1 million followers to watch in abject rage as Muslim after Muslim was hanged with an efficiency that was so casual, the Sons of Jacob actually stopped to take a smoke break. The hashtag #killtheunbelivers started trending in the Islamic world. The video spread through Pakistan, Malaysia, Saudi Arabia, Egypt and Iraq. It was discussed on talk shows and commented on by Youtube personalities.

Within a few days, Iraq had pledged to send troops and aircraft to the United States. Not to be outdone, Saudi Arabia volunteered its impressive Air Force. Pakistan offered troops and satellite support. Religious Muslim college students deferred starting their fall semesters to travel to Canada in the hopes they could cross Lake Michigan and fight in Chicago. When Canada shut down their borders to stem the tide of angry young men, Muslim Jihadists flooded to into Palm Beach, Florida where a local Iranian-American businessman had started his own Islamic Militia.

The Republic of Gilead wasn't too concerned. After all, they had God on their side and a nuclear submarine with missiles that could still reach Mecca from port.

Bonneville Salt Flats, Utah. USA.

The Bonneville Salt Flats were mostly known in the time before among the racing community as a place to break land speed records. The Pontiac Bonneville had been named after the place. Its bleak, whited-out landscape had set the background to shows such as the intro to Knight Rider and even a Star Wars film.

Now, a metal, prefabricated runway stretched for at least two miles across an old racecourse. Soldiers stood dotted every 50 yards on the runway, baking in the 120 degree heat. One of those soldiers was Private Akers.

The loss of the transports at Hill Air Force Base had necessitated some creative changes to training. Instead of parachuting onto the runway, an Army truck dropped them off, and then drove down the runway again. Each time it passed a soldier, the soldier simulated like he had just landed. It was a good five minutes before the truck passed Private Akers again.

Private Akers ambled over to Private Smith.

"Are you hurt?" Private Akers asked.

"Only my pride," Private Smith said. "This is stupid."

"Play the game," Private Akers said.

"OW! OW! OW!" Specialist Castro said as he hopped over. "I think I broke my femur, on that PLF, yo. I think I hit a bird too. Look, man. I got a feather."

Specialist Castro held up a ragged bird feather that he had either found on the ground or had kept in his pocket for days waiting for this opportunity to surface.

"Hey," Private Smith said as she played along. "Is that a white-bellied cockle-headed salt piper?"

"Yeah, man." Specialist Castro said. "It flew into my mouth when we jumped and I ate it."