Rebel

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Rebel Page 23

by Lu, Marie


  I lean against the doorway and smile down at her. “You’re the one who agreed to help us.”

  “I didn’t say I wouldn’t come.” She shrugs. “Anden will forgive me. It has to be done.”

  I reach for her hand and brush her fingers with mine. “Thank you,” I murmur. My eyes skip to Pressa, who has unzipped her backpack and is handing something over to Eden. It looks like a small package of glass vials.

  “This is a serum for Hann’s lung infection,” she says. “The way Eden describes his hoarse voice reminds me of the later stages of my dad’s illness. So I used to make this serum for him out of some of the herbs we carried. It’s not a cure, so don’t tell him that it is. He won’t believe you. But it should improve how he feels if he takes it every day.” She replaces the vials and gives the backpack to Eden.

  “And it’s swallowed?” Eden asks.

  “Swallowed.” Pressa nods. “But I did make one change. Hann’s serum contains a powerful sleeping drug. It’ll knock him out pretty hard and give him a slight fever that will throw off his judgment and strength. Give him a heavy enough dose of the serum, and it’ll stop his heart entirely.”

  Trying to poison Hann will be a risky move. I bet he’s survived dozens of such attempts. Still, Eden gives Pressa a grim nod. My brother’s feelings for her are on full display here. I can see it in the way he pulls her in for a hug and how tightly he holds her, the faint blush on his cheeks as she smiles and hugs him back. In them, I see the early signs of how, despite our backgrounds, June and I had first come together.

  Finally, we’re ready to head out. “Your signal?” I say to Eden.

  He nods. His face is paler than it should be, and his hands are trembling slightly. But he seems calm enough as he holds up a tiny chip, so small that it could sit on the tip of his smallest finger. “Got it,” he replies.

  As the President prepares to host his political meeting with the Elector, we take an unmarked military car to the airfield and into a plane that June has somehow gotten for us. The soldier who salutes us as we board is sweating up a storm. He doesn’t meet our eyes. June stops, though, to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

  “I’ll vouch for you,” she says. “Thank you for your help. The Elector himself will pardon you—I give you my word.”

  He shuffles his feet. “Of course, Commander,” he replies to June.

  We take off in silence. The plane has been airborne for only a half hour before a call comes in, right as we clear the waters of the Republic. The pilot’s voice flickers on overhead, and we all tilt our heads up as her apologetic words fill the air.

  “Commander Iparis,” she says regretfully. “The Elector Primo has ordered me to patch him through. He would like a word with you.”

  June doesn’t even blink. “Of course, ma’am,” she replies. I find myself marveling, yet again, at how cool and calm she can be even in the most stressful circumstances.

  There’s a pause, followed by Anden’s deep, familiar voice. He sounds more weary than furious. “Hello, Commander,” he says, addressing June. “I assume, as usual, that you have a good reason for leaving the country without notifying me?”

  June looks a little guilty at his tone. “As always,” she agrees. “It has everything to do with the emergency that you are currently discussing with President Ikari. We thought it best to discuss it with you while the plan is in action. There’s no time to waste.”

  “Is Daniel Wing with you, then?” Another voice comes on—and this time, it’s Director Min’s. She sounds less formal than Anden, and much more livid.

  “I’m here,” I say, glancing at my brother. “With Eden.”

  “And do you have an explanation for this? Or should I have you all court-martialed the instant you land in Ross City?” She sighs. “I’ll have you know that the President is sitting with us as we speak. He would like to know why I can’t seem to wrangle one of my agents into line.”

  “You know it has nothing to do with you, Director,” I reply evenly. “President Ikari, sir, the director has been nothing but gracious to me. But there are policies in place in Ross City that have her hands tied, and in turn, they tie my hands. With deepest respect, sir, the best way we have right now of confronting this crisis is for us to act against those policies you have in place.” I smile a little, even though I know they can’t see us. “Of course, we can discuss it now. If you like.”

  There’s a pause, then the sigh of a man that I’ve never communicated directly with before. “Enlighten us, then, Mr. Wing,” he says. It’s a voice I’ve only ever heard in broadcasts or on screens. Now he’s addressing me by name. Suddenly, I feel the audacity of what we’re doing—of going against the leader of Antarctica.

  Doesn’t mean he knows what the hell he’s doing, I remind myself. So I take a deep breath and straighten in my chair. “My brother, Eden, has had personal contact with Dominic Hann before,” I say. “So have I. We’ve seen a glimpse of how Hann’s operation works. Eden thinks that, contrary to what we think happened, Hann did not completely erase the Level system. It’s only been temporarily disabled. Unless we act quickly, Hann may have plans to revise it to work in his favor. I don’t know what the hell that might do. I only know that we have to find a way to stop him before he does it and disrupts the capital of our entire country.”

  I look meaningfully at my brother then, and Eden nods. “I think I can find a way in,” he says. “If I can get close to Hann again.”

  There’s an incredulous laugh from the President. “Is that the boy talking?” he says. “Eden? You’re going to take on Hann alone?”

  “Not alone,” he replies. His voice is so confident and calm that I can’t help but feel a surge of pride.

  The director stays silent. When she speaks again, her voice sounds thoughtful. “What do you plan to do when you arrive?” she asks.

  Eden hesitates, exchanging a quick glance with Pressa. “I’ll find a way to make contact with Hann,” he says. “He’s using the engine design that I’d made—it’s not a stretch to think that he might still want to recruit me onto his team. He’d told me himself that he expected me to come back under his fold. And Pressa knows enough about the layout of the Undercity to take us somewhere where we can get his attention.”

  “And Daniel? June?”

  “We’ll be staging a diversion,” June says. “We’ll be trying to break Hann’s system from the outside, staging an obvious attack to draw his attention. When Eden warns him about what we’re doing, we’re hoping it’ll persuade Hann to let Eden into his circle again.”

  “Of course,” I add, “it’d be helpful to have the AIS and the military at our back during all this. Getting arrested by our own the instant we land won’t be much help. So our fate’s ultimately in your hands.”

  I pause, abruptly nervous that maybe they won’t go along with this after all. That we’ve all just signed our own prison sentences. The irony of it, after everything we’ve been though, almost makes me laugh. Across from me, June’s eyes are fixed on mine, dark and logical. I feel a tingle of nostalgia, the feeling of fighting at her side, of once again working together toward something.

  There’s a silence, followed by a few murmurs that none of us can make out.

  Min speaks first. “You are, by far, the worst agent I’ve ever recruited,” she says. “After this is all done, you will stand trial, as well as your brother and those working around you.”

  “It won’t be the first time I’ve been on trial,” I say stiffly.

  “After this is all done. The President will issue a temporary pardon for you. When you land, the military will be there to greet you and assist, as is practical, with what you need. You will have AIS resources.” She sighs. “And I hope, for your sake, that your plan works. I’m not holding my breath, though. Don’t make me pay for your funerals out of the AIS budget, Wing. I don’t have the balance for it.”

  “You won’t have to,” I reply. “You might want to set aside a fund for our parade, though.” />
  “I hate you, Wing.”

  “And I love you, Director.”

  Anden’s voice comes on again. “Commander,” he says. “I expect you to be careful. I don’t want to appoint someone new. Understood?”

  June bows her head. “Of course, Elector.”

  And that’s it. The call ends, and far below our plane, the clouds close in.

  EDEN

  My thoughts are a jumbled mess when we land. Through the airplane window, I can see the skyscrapers of Ross City piercing the view below us as we hover over the landing pad on the top floor of one complex.

  Looking at the cityscape sends chills along my spine. Plumes of smoke billow from the Undercity all the way up to the sky, cutting the air into light and dark streaks. The enormous virtual markers that usually hover over the city, names of buildings and cumulative scores of its residents, the lights that would wash the buildings in bright colors … that’s all turned off. What’s replaced it are troops lined up in battalions on several of the higher floors, monitoring the elevators.

  I remember scenes like this from the Republic, from the days when we couldn’t be sure if the nation would still be standing at the end of its war. But to see Ross City—Antarctica—without its blanket of technology, is to see a superpower suddenly vulnerable and exposed.

  I lean back in my seat and close my eyes for a second as we start to land. Hann’s face swims in the darkness, grave and deadly.

  “Hey.”

  I open my eyes to see Pressa beside at me. Her hand is warm against my upper arm.

  “You’re not going to be alone down there,” she reminds me.

  Alone, this would be overwhelming. With Pressa here, though, maybe, maybe, we can do this. Still, as I watch her dig in my backpack to double-check the supplies she’s brought with her, I feel a pang of fear. This is no longer a game I’m playing with my own life.

  Daniel leans closer to us both, but when he fixes his eyes on me, he doesn’t mention how pale I look. Instead, he holds out a small, flat phone and a tiny, insectlike drone. “The phone’s for you to contact Hann,” he says in a low voice that only he and I can hear. “He’ll probably confiscate it from you as soon as you’re in, so there’s nothing else on it.” He nods at the drone. “And once you’re in, we’re not going to be communicating via any type of signal.”

  I study the drone he hands me. On it is a nail-size chip. It’s the patch that I’m going to install on the Level system when I try to bring it back online. A patch that will alter the system to something different from what it originally was. A revolution within a revolution.

  “So hold out your wrist,” Daniel tells me now.

  I do. He takes a wet cloth, swabs my wrist with it, and then wipes it on the drone. It instantly lights up with a faint green mark, then fades back into its black color.

  “This will track you down and deliver any message we need to send to you. Use it to send a message back. It’ll only deliver one round before it self-destructs. Anyone who isn’t you or me and tries to tamper with it will get a nasty surprise when it simulates a bug bite and then erase its drive. Got it?”

  Already, my attention has shifted to how the insect drone functions. It’s solar-powered—I can tell from the sheen of its shell—and its metal body looks so much like a real cockroach body that I want to recoil from the way it flicks its antennae.

  “Got it,” I repeat. “I won’t be able to transmit back to you, not until I figure out what our options are if we get to Hann.”

  “When you do,” Daniel corrects me firmly. Uncertainty flashes in his eyes, but he just looks away and leans back.

  AIS agents are waiting for us when we step off the plane. Their uniform black suits blend into one as they line up at the base of the steps, giving respectful nods to June. They greet Daniel too, albeit warily. There are several soldiers here too, in their gray and green uniforms.

  I fall into step behind them as we make our way down the elevator. Through the glass windows, we get a better view of the chaos that has engulfed the city.

  “Things have calmed a bit,” one of the agents tells us as we go. “Martial law is firmly in place. Curfews are set for nine at night.”

  “And the Undercity?” Daniel asks.

  His skeptical tone makes the agent turn slightly red. “It’s under control,” he says, as if to defend himself. “We’ve rounded up and jailed a lot of the protesters.”

  I frown, mirroring my brother’s expression. “That’s not going to keep people in check,” he says. “The last we saw, the entire Undercity was in open rebellion. You’re telling me you locked up everyone?”

  The man reddens again. “We’re containing it,” he insists again. It’s all I need to hear to know that things down there aren’t really in control. Even a city like this place is going to have trouble quelling a lifetime of abuse against an entire population.

  “The President has given explicit orders about you all,” he goes on, impatient to shift the subject. He eyes me. “You’re the brother?”

  “I’m the brother,” I reply, used to the question, but beside me, Daniel narrows his eyes.

  “His name’s Eden. I’m the brother.”

  I glance at Daniel, surprised, but he’s not looking at me. Instead, his attention has shifted to the floors appearing one by one below us as our elevator gradually slows. The closer we get to the Undercity, the more of the chaos we can see. There are heavy barricades set up at intersections everywhere, and many of the lower floors are barred from entry, guards present in front of every elevator entrance.

  Finally, we reach the floor where our escorts will get off to join the rest of the Antarctican troops. This is where Daniel and June will leave too. Where Pressa and I will go on alone.

  June and I exchange a steady look, one borne from a lifetime of surviving together. Then she turns to squeeze my shoulder. “See you soon,” she says. “We’ll be right here, listening for you.”

  I nod, trying to mimic her calmness. When she was young, when she was going through the worst of the Republic’s war, did she ever feel terrified? It seems impossible, looking into her level eyes.

  While June gives Pressa an encouraging nod, Daniel and I hesitate before each other. As a kid, I used to throw myself into his arms without thinking twice. I’d grab for his hand whenever I had the chance. I’d wrap my arms around his neck and babble affections until he’d shove me off.

  But now, we don’t quite know how to say goodbye. We stand there for a moment, feet shuffling, expressions awkward. In the end, we don’t. He just pats my arm once before giving me his crooked smile. “Don’t be late,” he tells me.

  I nod, searching for something to say, but Daniel has already turned back around and is walking out of the elevator. At first, I think it’s because he didn’t want to linger any longer. Then I realize that it’s because he can’t bear to see me go.

  Too soon, Pressa and I are alone in the elevator. We head down to the Undercity. Through the glass, I can hear the sirens coming from below, the shouts of an officer through a megaphone.

  It’s too much like the Republic. The sounds surround me like a blanket, and I suddenly wonder if I’m in one of my nightmares, that maybe all of this has been my subconscious, trapping me. My palms break out in a sweat. I look to my side. Pressa is pale, too, her shoulders trembling slightly.

  Her presence gives me the strength I need. I reach out to touch her arm, then give her a small smile. “I’m glad you’re here,” I say.

  It startles her out of whatever thoughts she had. She turns to me with a smile of her own, relieved, and presses herself closer to me as we reach the last floor and step out into the chaos of the Undercity.

  The path toward Pressa’s shop is completely shut off. We wander past police barricades and troops lining the streets, of wary Undercity civilians eyeing the soldiers or grouped behind barriers, shouting angrily.

  Pressa tightens her grip on my wrist. “This way,” she whispers, nodding us down a narrow all
ey away from the main streets.

  We make our way along until we’ve gone past where most of the soldiers have set up. Here, the streets are more shaded by skyscraper shadows, the roads more cracked and broken.

  I finally stop near where Pressa and I used to make our way down to the Undercity. The streets are quieter here, eerily so. We’re in uncertain territory now. I stop in the middle of the path, then place a call on my phone to Hann with the number he’d given me.

  For a moment, I think no one will answer. Maybe he changed it by now, or never meant for me to use it at all.

  Then a voice comes on. It’s not Hann, of course, but one of his associates. Her words fill my ears.

  “Step out of the shadows, so we can have a better look at you,” she says. “The boss would like to know why you’re back in his neighborhood.”

  Every hair on my neck stands on end. They’re already watching us. I look at Pressa, then motion for us to step into the light.

  “Who’s the girl beside you?”

  “A friend,” I answer. As if in response, Pressa reaches into her pack and holds up a box of vials. “Hann will remember her from the drone races. She’s here to give him something for his condition.”

  I guess the associate wasn’t prepared to hear that. She pauses for a long time. When she finally does speak again, she’s still addressing me. “And what do you want?”

  “I’m here to help him,” I reply. “If he’ll still have me. Tell him he was right about everything.” I hope he can’t hear the lie in my words. “And I’m here to warn him. The AIS is planning an attack on his system soon.”

  The phone goes silent. I wait a few seconds longer. “Hello?” I ask, but she’s gone already.

  Pressa stares sidelong at me. “Do you think she’ll relay this to Hann?” she whispers.

  My lips tighten. “We’ll know soon enough.”

  We stay where we are for what feels like an eternity. My eyes turn up. The skyscrapers overhead disappear into the air, and if I look for too long, the sheer endlessness makes me dizzy. What if Hann has people watching and waiting everywhere up there, their eyes turned toward us in case this deal goes wrong. I glance around us. We are as vulnerable as we can be now. If he wanted to, he could shoot us down right here. And for a moment, I think that’s exactly what he’ll do.

 

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