Her expression is of apprehension and excitement. “Then Mission Endgame is initiated?”
I nod. “It was initiated when Jack died.”
~*~
My Agent status gains us easy access to the train yard. The dormant engines loom like monstrous centipedes, their exoskeletons glint dully in the dark. A latticework of elevated tracks surrounds us, humming with galvanic power. The trains whip by, metallic blurs that pass too swiftly to see the act of anarchy about to take place in their midst.
Emily’s face is apprehensive as she hands me the rounds for my service pistol. “Are you sure about this, sir?”
I understand her concern. In a very short period of time, the Coalition has lost the majority of their main leaders.
And now it will lose another.
Emily’s head drops. “Once the train starts, Transit Authority will recognize it has been hijacked. They’ll scan the cargo and—”
“And realize it’s carrying several cars of powerful explosives and headed directly for Power Central.” I smile reassuringly as I load the pistol and pocket the remaining rounds. “Then they’ll do everything in their power to stop me. It’s all right, Emily. We knew from the beginning this was a one-way trip.”
A tear slides down her cheek, betraying the steely resolve in her eyes. “I never thought we’d get you back, sir. It’s been an honor to be a part of your operation.”
I carefully brush the tear from her face. “We took the gravest risks for the greatest cause, Emily. When those entrusted to protect the people choose to abuse their powers, we have only two options: submit or resist. We chose the latter, and paid the price for our cause in human lives. Their sacrifices can’t be in vain. I have my task and you have one last thing to do for me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Which is…?”
Emily swallows. “Whenever the train stops…I trigger the explosives.”
“That’s right. Whether the train makes it to Power Central or not.”
She grabs my sleeve. “Why can’t you just set the train on auto? You don’t have to—”
I raise a forestalling hand. “Anything could go wrong. Someone has to be on hand to see this through to the end.”
I stare into the distance, where the City glimmers like a thousand dying stars. “And besides, I want their attention. I want them to know who has disrupted their machine and awakened the populace from the nightmare the Sovereign has engineered.”
I board the train. The sound of its silence is nearly overwhelming. I have had enough of quiet. It is the hush of shadows, of smothering oppression that has anesthetized the populace into a dreamless state.
It is my task to awaken them.
Emily waves farewell as the doors hiss shut, imprisoning me to the fate I have chosen. The train whispers forward, electricity crackling along the rails. In no time at all it is flying.
The voice-com crackles on. “Agent Gamble, you have been identified as authorizing an unscheduled departure. Please report the reason for your—”
I fire my pistol, destroying the com. The voice cuts off with a dying whine. My next few moments are spent installing an override device into the engine computer, ensuring they cannot seize control of the train from Transit. It is only a matter of seconds before the operator overcomes his shock and scans the cargo. Alarms will blare, sirens will wail. They will come for me.
My gaze turns to the windows, where the surroundings blur alongside. Shadows whip by, much like the memories I was forced to abandon…
~*~
“I’m sorry, Franklin.”
I can only stare at Jack in trembling fury. The prison bars between us keep me from trying to tear him apart with my bare hands. I doubt that I could, even in my heated rage.
Jack was always a better fighter than me.
He voice is strained, his eyes downcast. “I wanted to see you. To let you know something has changed. I haven’t slept since that day. When they gave me the orders, I thought it was right thing. You were out of control. A traitor, rebelling against the Sovereign.”
Jack’s face is harrowed. Stubble litters his normally smooth cheeks, and his eyes are red-rimmed, a reflection of the blood he spilled.
“I was wrong. I took the only thing of value away from you because I was ordered to. Now…I see their faces when I close my eyes.”
I fold my arms to keep my hands from shaking. “Why tell me? I’d kill you if I had the chance. That was my family. My son and…my wife.”
I stumble over the last words. Jack knows full well I have spent more time in Ursula’s arms of late. I tell myself it is for the sake of appearance, but the lie rings hollow even in my own mind.
“You can kill me later. I’m sure you will, in fact.” He leans closer. “Listen. I’m scrambling this conversation. We can’t talk long, but…they’re going to indoctrinate you.”
I shrug. “I know.”
A hint of a smile crosses his face. “All part of the plan? I know all about it. In the event of your capture, you bet on them making an example of you instead of killing you outright.”
I freeze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about the ultimate gamble. The only way to get within their inner ranks again. If you convince them their program can rehabilitate someone like you, then you’ll be accepted again. And that’s when you’ll strike.”
I glare at Jack. “If you know all of this, then why haven’t you turned me in?”
Jack raises his head. “Don’t you understand? I can help you.”
“You?” I don’t bother to hide my scorn when I laugh. “No one will ever trust you after what you’ve done.”
“You can.” Jack’s face pleads desperately. “I’ve been experimenting. I’ve found a way to block the Sovereign’s signal. I’m…starting to see things differently. Thinking my own thoughts. This place is tearing apart, Franklin. It won’t be much longer before it crumbles regardless of what anyone does. But if we manage to free the population then we have a chance to survive the fallout.”
“You’re already on the inside, Jack. If you’ve had such a big change of heart, then you can do whatever needs to be done.”
Jack shakes his head. “You still don’t see what you’re doing wrong. If you had played your cards right, you might have overthrown the Chancellor. You might have even convinced Ursula to join you. For some reason she’s taken with you. But you don’t think things through, Franklin. You want everything now, without a thought to the consequences of your actions.”
Their bodies plummet like the last leaves of autumn …
“You need a network. A body of individuals who can operate on their own without direct supervision. People placed in every crevice of the infrastructure. That’s the key, Franklin. An empire is built by the people, not its leaders. It is the people who can topple an empire, not one man. And it is the people who will rebuild it.”
I shake my head. “The people are asleep, Jack! Their minds seized by whispers they can’t even hear. They’re blind to the strings guide their every move. It can’t be done. It’s foolishness to even consider.”
Jack presses his face against the bars. His eyes are feverish, his words burning with urgency. “When the people are fed lies every day, they forget how good the truth tastes. But all we have to do is remind them. It will take time to hack through the Gordian knot of deception they’ll tie inside of your mind. And while you fight to free yourself, I’ll be busy setting up the resistance.”
I laugh. The sensation drags across my throat like sandpaper, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you. I’m as good as dead, and you of all people want to tell me my grave is just a tunnel.”
Jack just nods in agreement. “Indoctrination isn’t death, Franklin. It’s only a type of sleep. And when a person sleeps, sooner or later he will have to do the only thing that comes natural.”
WA
KE
UP
/>
Chapter 11
The train lurches as though something heavy has struck it. No doubt agents of the Sovereign tried a rocket attack. Fortunately, the heavy armor was constructed just for that type of assault in mind. The Coalition has long sought to cripple the Sovereign’s main source of transit. No expense was spared in thwarting that goal.
The Industrial Center is visible from the windshield. Inside are the drones: those listless, sleepwalking workers who drift through their tasks under the heavy influence of propaganda and subliminal indoctrination. I approach in my juggernaut of steel, cutting through the curtain of fog and smoke as light flares around me.
I have the full attention of the Sovereign. Their mammoth zeppelins beam spotlights, and military transports scurry alongside like children trying to keep up with their father. Warning lights flicker, and the sirens fill the air with their miserable wailing.
They can follow me. They can blind me with their phosphorus, and alert all of their agents to my presence. But they can no more stop me than one can stop a bullet once it is fired from the barrel.
I almost convince myself of that.
The shriek of metal on metal is almost unbearable; the wail of a thousand banshees boiled alive. I lurch forward, unprepared for the sudden death of motion. As my head splinters the windshield, sparks flood my vision; spiteful fireflies that let me know my gambit has failed. Transit has triggered a failsafe in the tracks themselves, they are activated to seize the train and hold until friction does the job of slowing and eventually bringing the iron behemoth to a staggering stop.
As my vision clears, I see the walls of the Industrial Center only yards away. Smoke billows across the surrounding area, smothering the flickering lights and anxious shouts like a bad dream. Blood trickles down my face and my chest is sore from ramming into the controls. I’m sure something is broken, but the pain is far away.
Much like my grand schemes.
The ruined doors wail in protest as they are forced open. Butcher shoves his way inside. He looks preposterous as ever when he snarls at me, looming larger and larger as he approaches.
“I knew it. I knew you were always a spineless traitor. I knew it in my gut. Finally I get the chance to—”
I cut off his delivery by firing my service pistol until all of the rounds are spent. Butcher collapses a yard away from me, his pasty face frozen in shock. I reload in time to point the firearm at Ursula, who follows shortly after. I knew she would.
She has a knack for being punctual.
Her pistol is drawn as well, but neither of us fires. It is as if we have pained one another far worse than a bullet could ever do.
“I thought you finally came to your senses,” she says. “And then you pull something like this.” Her icy demeanor is betrayed only when she bites her bottom lip almost to the point of drawing blood.
I exhale softly, ignoring the pain in my chest. “You were right. I came to my senses. That’s why I’m doing this, Ursula.”
The pistol in her hand trembles. “Did you ever stop to consider what we could have had? You had the Sovereign in the palm of your hand tonight, Franklin. All you had to do was close your fist.”
My face heats furiously. “You really believe the Chancellor isn’t aware you’re a threat to him? He won’t rest until he finds a way to bury us. You’re a fool to think otherwise.”
“The Chancellor is dead, Franklin!” Ursula’s eyes blaze. “Did you think I haven’t made my own plans while you were off toiling in the factories? His transport exploded shortly after the ball tonight. Who do you think they will elect next?”
I laugh. “And so one dictator replaces another. You don’t understand a thing, Ursula. You never did. You only see the power, never the people.”
“What do you know about the people, Franklin?” Ursula’s lips stand out like fresh blood against her pale face. “You are cut from the same cloth as the rest of us, your hands as dirty as anyone else’s.”
“People change.” I lower my pistol, knowing I will never hurt her. I can only try to make her understand.
“I can hear it sometimes. The groan of the city as it crumbles. We enslaved a populace and called it social restructuring. They gave us the power, but we betrayed their trust. When leaders sacrifice trust for power, there is only one thing the people can do. Resist.”
“Your resistance is over.” Ursula shakes her head. “You’re all that’s left of their leadership, and your grand scheme is in ruins.”
I shrug. “Once the bombs go off, nothing else will matter.”
It is Ursula’s turn to smile. “Do you think we’re fools, Franklin? We found the frequency for the remote detonation and severed it. The only reason we stopped the train was so it wouldn’t explode on impact when it hit the gates. There will be no fireworks to mark your funeral. No grand finale to your martyrdom.”
I gaze at her for a moment before playing my final hand.
“I’m not talking about the explosives on the train, Ursula.”
A sound like distant thunder rumbles in the distance. The ground trembles in the wake of the blast as the sky is cast in hellish colors. Outside, the soldiers shout in fear and confusion.
Ursula’s eyes widen in realization as she stares out of the window. I already know what she sees.
I sit in the conductor’s seat, suddenly drained beyond measure. My words spill from my lips like a final exhalation. “We both know this train was always a decoy. A red herring created to draw the eyes of the Coalition to the Industrial Center, instead of deep underneath the City, the true location of the electromagnetic machines. When I brought you on that emergency mission to capture the Coalition’s leadership, my agents broke into your system and found the exact location where the inverted fields trap us in this purgatory and separates us from the real world.”
Ursula’s gloved hand goes to her mouth. “You don’t know what you’ve done. Without those fields…”
“My mission was to draw your attention away from The City, where my agents took advantage of the chaos and quickly overcame the reserve guards. Their mission was simple: to plant the explosives and blow the machines once this train stopped. Without the fields, the Empire will no longer be supplanted from reality. We will reintegrate into the world, free of the shackles of indoctrination.”
Ursula turns to me with raven-black eyes. Her lips compress into a thin red scar on her face. “You have destroyed us with your dreaming, you fool.”
I meet her gaze steadily. “No. I’ve finally decided to wake up.”
Ursula points the pistol at me. “Wake up from this.”
Lightning flashes twice.
Ursula’s face is contaminated by scorn and regret as she exits into the smoke and darkness. I hear the voices yell outside as the soldiers mill about in complete disarray. The train rocks back and forth from the tremors as the Sovereign Empire emerges from the fields that have trapped us for so long.
My blood spatters on the floor of the train.
Theories differ about what will happen once the fields are destroyed. Some say we will emerge from the inversion in the same time and manner that we left. Our lives, our timeline will vanish as though they never occurred.
Others say our emergence will crash upon the current reality like an atomic bomb, destroying whatever stood before being supplanted by our Empire.
Still others say it is only our minds that are trapped. We have been frozen in time, lulled to sleep by the seductive whispers of peace and security. The electromagnetic fields are simply the lies we feed ourselves, veiling us from seeing the corruption and waste we have forged into an Empire.
One thing is certain: things will change. People will be heard. The silence will be shattered, replaced by voices filled with the future. I hear them as flickering light fills my vision. I see them now: the woman with autumn hair and laughing eyes along with the child who shares her features. Jack with his characteristic smile, and so many others who fell in silence.
The rumble of th
e Sovereign’s collapse is a distant lullaby; the tremors that shatter its foundations lull me to sleep as I smile at the ghosts of the past. They are a dream now, a memory which fades along with the light that surrounds them.
I let the swell of their voices carry me.
Enjoy Silent Empire?
Thanks for checking out this story. I truly hope you enjoyed your time in Diesel City. I’d love to keep writing these novels, but I need just a little help from you. Reviews help a great deal in spreading the word, which in turn helps sell more books. Which in turn allows me to keep writing. It doesn’t have to a long process: a simple 3-4 sentence review works wonders. Thanks again for reading, hope you stick around for the next installment.
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~BC
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Afterword
Let me start off by saying that this is not my story. True, I have written it, put flesh on bones and provided a personal spin, but the story always belonged to Stefan. In one of those life moments that happens sometime, our digital paths crossed via his artistic profile on deviantArt.com, where I admired his dazzling retro-futuristic images. In short time he did the huge favor of providing that same magic to my Troubleshooter novels through his eye-catching cover designs and additional visual flair that gave readers a definitive look and feel to Mick Trubble and New Haven.
But Stefan is more than an artist. He tells stories with illustration similar to the way I do with words. I was struck in particular with a series he had on display called Silent Empire. His images tickled my imagination, full of oppression and propaganda along with the bizarre and surreal depictions of dog-faced men and indoctrinated slaves listlessly performing their menial tasks under the dominion of a tyrannical government.
It was a story just begging to be told.
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