Revolt

by Tracy Lawson

  Danni put her hands on her hips. “You’d have to be on the grid to do that. No. No chance. Mitch would have my hide.”

  Jaycee thrust out her chin. “Fine. I’ll get what I want with or without you. I just figured I could count on my cousin.” She stalked up the stairs and out the back door into the darkness.

  Danni ran after her. “Take it easy, okay?”

  Jaycee hissed, “I’m here to help the Resistance. Tommy and Careen are the Resistance. They’re spreading all kinds of lies about them and Wes on PeopleCam. I was listening to everyone—they think Wes was nothing but an evil QM. Don’t you think we should tell the truth so he can be remembered as a hero of the Resistance? The CXD people don’t know he was a really good person.”

  “You can’t tell anyone who you are. Technically, you don’t even exist. I’m taking you home. From now on, be a good girl and don’t do anything stupid.”

  9:55 PM

  Danni let herself into Jude’s building. It was late, and she didn’t feel like going back to the meeting. After she’d driven Jaycee to Eduardo’s apartment, she’d stayed outside in the cold, peering in a window until she caught sight of her talking to Lara. Now that she knew an adult was present, she could be reasonably sure Jaycee wouldn’t try to sneak back out to the meeting.

  Wasn’t it enough that she’d spent weeks on the road during the food shortages, dodging the QM as she worked to keep hungry people from starving? When did her life get to be about her?

  She’d never met anyone like Jude. He had potential. He was passionate, funny, and smart. She wanted to see where this thing with a guy she’d never have considered her type—president of the Inter-Fraternity Council at a prestigious university, for crying out loud—would lead. She didn’t want to take on the responsibility for her young cousin right now.

  Mitch had warned Danni that she was one of the few people in the Resistance who knew that the Link was in Atari’s control and not a bona fide threat. But Jaycee wasn’t part of that inner circle. She hoped fear of being Linked was enough to keep her cousin from playing spy games and getting in trouble with the QM.

  She wandered into the kitchen. Jude’s apartment was newer and a lot nicer than most places she’d been, and he kept a decent stock of liquor. She selected a bottle of whiskey, poured a few fingers, and gulped it down. She made another drink, brought the bottle with her, and curled up on the sofa. The whiskey calmed her enough that she didn’t startle when he opened the door.

  “I set up a schedule for the protesters starting tomorrow morning, and some people are coming over in a while to make signs.” Jude shrugged out of his coat and left it lying across a chair. “Where did you go?”

  She set her glass down on the side table. “My fifteen-year-old cousin showed up at the meeting. I didn’t even know she was in this quadrant. Why does she want to get involved in the first place? She’s too young. It’s not like we need her. She doesn’t understand what it means to be in the Resistance. I made her leave.”

  He didn’t say anything, and she felt like she had to keep explaining. “One of my other cousins died in an accident; it was kind of my fault. Well, not all my fault, but everyone blames me anyhow. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to Jaycee too. I’ve got no one to talk to about all the family stuff. No one who cares, that is.”

  “I care.” Jude’s dark eyes were full of sympathy as he sat beside her. “Your family and friends should be there for you when you’re hurting.”

  Danni shrugged to dismiss his concern. “It would be nice if someone said they were sorry, instead of always expecting me to be the one who apologizes. Sometimes I’m not sorry. And sometimes I need someone to be sorry for me.” She reached for the bottle, but he covered her hand with his own.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Danni.”

  “How long before the sign painters get here?”

  “About an hour.”

  She kissed him, and when he responded she relaxed, knowing fooling around was the quickest way to get a guy to stop talking. Even though he had potential, she wasn’t ready to fall for him yet. It was hard to keep him an arm’s length away from her heart.

  4:37 AM

  Friday, December 22, 2034

  Quadrant OP-439

  Two-dozen college students tiptoed from Jude’s building clutching the signs they’d painted, planning to divide ranks and meet back at the closest Distribution Center in a few hours.

  “Do you think protesting will work?” Jude asked as he rinsed out the brushes in the sink.

  Danni shrugged, loaded the last coffee mug into the dishwasher, and padded over to the couch. “How many volunteers do we have?”

  He consulted a handwritten list on the kitchen island. “About a hundred people signed up. If we all take shifts, and no one loses their cool or gets arrested, we could block the entrances at all four Distribution Centers indefinitely. Maybe we’ll even get some media attention.”

  Should she bring him into the Resistance’s inner circle, and tell him that the fate of the Linked lay in Atari’s hands, not Madalyn’s? She started the dishwasher. “Look, you’re an amazing organizer…”

  “But?”

  She couldn’t tell him. Not yet. “But nothing. You’ve done a lot for CXD and the Resistance.”

  7:10 AM

  Jude left while Danni was still asleep, turning up his coat collar as he headed for the Distribution Center. There he joined the group of six CXD members who lined both sides of the walkway leading to the center, their homemade signs held high. Someone had brought coffee, and Jude gratefully accepted a paper cup of the steaming brew.

  They stood silently in the faint light of the winter dawn, as though waiting for an opposing army to amass on the horizon. An hour went by, and no one else appeared. It felt anticlimactic after all their planning.

  The girl who’d brought the coffee whispered, “Did we get the date wrong?” and others in the group giggled nervously.

  Then a car pulled up. A middle-aged woman got out and scurried past them, unlocked the Distribution Center’s front door, and locked it again from within.

  Twenty minutes later, families started to arrive with their children in tow, and soon the line stretched to the sidewalk. Jude stood behind one of the other protesters and recorded the scene on his phone. Most of the parents averted their eyes from the signs. Those who spoke did so in hushed tones, as though they didn’t want to draw attention to themselves.

  At nine o’clock, the employee unlocked the door. The line inched forward, but she blocked them from entering and spoke into a bullhorn. “Demand for the Link has depleted today’s supply. Come back tomorrow.” She shut and locked the door, leaving everyone in stunned silence. Then the crowd surged ahead, and those at the front beat on the door, begging to be let in.

  Chapter 9

  11:10 AM

  Quadrant DC-005

  Careen dragged herself through the routine of showering and getting dressed as if gravity had suddenly doubled its pull on her. She was getting lots of sleep, so why was her internal battery running low? Tommy had a protein bar and an apple ready for her when she emerged from the bathroom, and she obliged him by opening the wrapper and taking a few small bites.

  “Do you want to go for a walk around the building? Stretch your legs a bit?”

  “No. I’m so tired. How long did I sleep?”

  “About twelve hours.” He didn’t have the heart to tell her that during that time, she’d had four gut-wrenching episodes of night terrors. He was as exhausted as she, but the difference was, she didn’t remember anything. He couldn’t erase the visions of her distress etched on his brain.

  “What day is it?”

  “It’s Friday.”

  “What do you think is happening in the rest of the world?”

  “I honestly can’t say. I haven’t kept up with what’s going on since you got here. Atari’ll let us know if anything big happens.” Tommy closed his book and stretched. “How about we watch that movie now?”
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  She nodded, and he turned on the television mounted on the wall and scrolled through the database. “Here it is.” He started the playback. “I’ll go make some popcorn.”

  He dimmed the lights on his way out, purposely leaving her alone to watch the scenes of Harry Potter’s early life in his abusive aunt and uncle’s home. Maybe she’d find some truth in the fictional story. When he reappeared with the fragrant bowl of popcorn and some bottles of soda, she was hunched in the bed, knees pulled in to her chest, clutching the hem of the blanket under her chin. She flinched when he sat down beside her and scooted over as far as she could. He glanced at her sideways as he arranged the pillows behind his back and noticed a tear glistening on her cheek. He opened one of the sodas without comment.

  About the time Harry left for Hogwarts, she began to eat mechanically, one piece of popcorn at a time. Other than the single tear, she displayed no emotion, though her eyes never strayed from the screen. Tommy found himself watching her more than the movie. He’d experienced a range of emotions when he’d seen the film the first time and hoped it would have the same effect on her. He understood what it felt like to believe your parents were dead and was thankful that, unlike Harry, the separation from his own hadn’t been permanent. He waited for a sign that she’d identified with the kids who, inexperienced and seemingly outclassed, had to pit their wits against the greatest Dark Wizard of all time.

  When the end credits began to roll, he spoke. “Hey, I read something funny the other day. Atari told me he chose the name Cerberean Link because Cerberus is the three-headed dog that guards the gate to the underworld, and the Cerberean Link is a multi-faceted security system, right?

  “Anyhow, the name Cerberus derives from the Greek word Kerberos, which means spotted. So Hades, lord of the dead, named his dog Spot. Who knew Hades had a sense of humor?” He grinned, but she didn’t act amused.

  “I get what you’re trying to do. I’m not oppressed. I’m not abused.”

  Busted. “I didn’t say you were. Didn’t you like the movie? I thought it was good.”

  “I brought it on myself.”

  “Bull. Kevin told us how badly they treated you.”

  “I only saw Kevin a few times. He probably doesn’t believe that I deserved it.”

  “No one deserves to be beaten! I can still see the bruises on your face, and I know someone did that to you. If they were from the explosion, they would have faded by now. The ones you’re hiding under your clothes were even worse.”

  She shrugged. “It’s over now.”

  He decided to push back a little. “No, it’s not over! What if Jaycee ends up there in your place, and they treat her the same as they did you?”

  Her eyes widened. “Could that happen?”

  “Yes!”

  She chewed on her bottom lip and didn’t answer.

  “It could happen to anyone. That’s why we have to fight back.” He let that sink in before he changed the subject. “Do you want to watch the next movie?”

  “Yes.”

  6:17 PM

  Quadrant DC-001

  Madalyn hurried into the Green Room at PeopleCam studios. Kevin was waiting for her, and together they moved into the backstage area to wait for her segment. One of the many monitors showed cover footage shot at the Distribution Center in DC-001. There were relatively few children in the crowd, which appeared to be comprised mostly of college-aged young people who stood on either side of the walkway. Silent and orderly, they held hand-lettered signs bearing the messages: FOREVER LINKED TO THE OCSD; YOUR CHILD IS NOT THE OCSD’S PROPERTY; TRUST NOT LEST YE BE LINKED; ALL THE BETTER TO SEE YOU WITH, MY DEAR; and WHO’S WATCHING YOUR CHILDREN?

  DC-001 was one of the few quadrants that had an adequate supply of Links. Why were so few families lined up outside? As she watched, a family approached, and upon seeing the protesters and their signs, halted and appeared to reconsider. She tapped the director on the shoulder. He pulled off his headset, and she held up a warning finger. “You will not air any of that footage. Do you understand?”

  Kevin, ever at her side, whispered, “You’re on in two minutes.”

  She fought down her anxiety and fired off orders. “Contact the PR department right away. Have them go to the temporary hiring pool and get people to protest the protesters at the Distribution Centers.”

  “Did you say ‘protest the protesters?’”

  “Yes! You know what I mean. Have them carry signs. Make them look authentic. The actual distribution workers can’t do it. They’re busy.”

  “Right away.”

  Madalyn turned her attention to Pete Sheridan and Sheila Roth on the monitor as Pete read from the teleprompter. “Looks like our next story takes us back to beleaguered OP-439. Again.”

  Sheila looked concerned. “What’s going on there now?”

  “Jeremy Howard, our OP-439 correspondent, is live with the story.”

  The young reporter held out his hand to show the camera. “Coins. Here’s a quarter, and this one’s a … dime. Anyway, no one’s seen coins in circulation since the Restriction went into effect years ago, yet I got these at a pop-up market just a short while ago. Where are they coming from? And how do people know how to use them? Could this be resurgence of the use of coins? If so, can old-fashioned paper money be far behind?”

  “It sounds like pandemonium out there, Jeremy.”

  “You’d think so, but that’s not the case at all. The people I observed at the

  market today seemed eager to obtain and use coins.”

  Madalyn turned to Kevin. “Where in the world are coins coming from? We did away with them years ago. As soon as I deal with one problem, something else crops up. This is getting ridiculous!”

  Kevin laid a hand on her arm. “Don’t let it rattle you before you go on.”

  On the monitor, Sheila cooed, “Up next, we have OCSD Director Madalyn Davies live in the studio!”

  Madalyn shook him off and strode into the next room.

  The floor manager clipped a lavaliere microphone to her blazer’s lapel and placed a chair for her between Pete’s and Sheila’s at the news desk. She had barely settled into her place when the red light glowed on the center camera.

  Sheila laid her hand on Madalyn’s. “Madam Director, we are thrilled to have you here with us today. Let’s start out with a question that’s been on my mind.”

  Madalyn looked at the camera and said with false brightness, “Thank you, Sheila. I just came from the Distribution Center in DC-001, and the line of recipients was out the door and around the block! The demand for Links has far exceeded the supply in many parts of the country. Anyone experiencing a delay today should come back again Monday, and rest assured that we at the OCSD are doing everything in our power to Link your children as soon as possible.”

  Sheila seemed taken aback and, to Madalyn’s dismay, doggedly turned the focus back to her chosen topic. “Oh, of course that’s wonderful news, Madam Director, but I had a different question. After all the hype and controversy when you allowed terrorist Careen Catecher to avoid punishment for her crimes and then rewarded her with a coveted job at the OCSD that anyone would be crazy to turn down, well, we’ve noticed that she has disappeared from public view.”

  “Yes.”

  Sheila purred, “Before you got here, I talked with Assistant Director Kevin McGraw, but I couldn’t get much out of him. It seems Careen is currently being kept out of the public eye for her own safety. Tell me, who has made threats against the poor girl?”

  When Madalyn hesitated, Sheila prodded. “I understand if you don’t want to name names, but it’s no wonder she’s in danger of a public lynching. She’s been allowed to get off scot-free, and people are clearly disgruntled about it.”

  She turned back to face the camera. “How long could she expect to be allowed to escape punishment for her terrible crimes? I’d feel safer knowing she was locked up where she couldn’t hurt anyone else.”

  Before Sheila could ask another ques
tion, Madalyn turned to Pete. “I’d like to say a few words about your last story, if I may. The one about the use of contraband coin.”

  He gestured toward the camera. “By all means.”

  “The use of coins is a slap in the face to the progress we’ve made. It’s dangerous. It enables one of the worst of all rebel habits—trading in stolen goods and contraband—with no way for the OCSD to track lawbreakers.”

  “How do you know they’re breaking other laws?”

  The question was incredulous, and Madalyn’s response was heated. “Of course they’re either taking part in terrorist activity or dealing in stolen goods. Why else would anyone choose to violate the Restriction? I promise you right now, anyone caught in possession of coins will be severely reprimanded and the coins confiscated. The person in possession will be placed on the dissident list and monitored.”

  Pete turned toward the camera. “You heard it here on PeopleCam. Thank you for stopping by, Madalyn Davies, director of the OCSD.”

  “Wait! I’m not finished yet.”

  6:40 PM

  Quadrant DC-005

  Atari stood in Command Central, staring up at Madalyn Davies’ image on PeopleCam.

  “I believe the American people have the right to know when they are threatened. The Resistance is determined to undermine our nation’s security and pave the way to anarchy. They will achieve their aims by attacking your children.

  “Link spokesperson Careen Catecher vanished without a trace last week and is feared dead at the hands of the Resistance. Though she was one of the first recipients of a Link, the system, not yet activated, is incapable of locating her. We are working diligently to bring the system online, and when the Link is activated, if Careen is still alive, we will find her. Careen’s disappearance only proves that we must not waver in our resolve to secure the future of every young person in this country.”

  The camera cut back to Sheila Roth. “The perfect combination of safety and personal accountability is now within reach as the Cerberean Link program commences nationwide. For more details and directions to the Distribution Center nearest you, please check your quadrant’s home page on PeopleNet. Stay tuned to PeopleCam for round-the-clock updates on this grave situation.”