The Secret War

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The Secret War Page 7

by Matt Myklusch


  Jack didn’t know much about the Mysterrii other than that they were the native population of Cognito. He passed a small band of them on his way back to the apartment. They were all no more than three feet tall, dressed in white clothing with red cloth bandages wrapped tightly around their heads, feet, and hands. Bright yellow eyes glowed behind the red wrappings that covered their faces. Jack thought they looked like mini mummies. As always, they scattered as soon as they saw him. Crimson strands of bandages flew wildly in the air as the Mysterrii sprang into action. “Hup hup!” one of them said as it jumped on another one’s shoulders and then scampered up over a wall. “Ho-pahhh!” said another Mysterrii as it used its hands as a springboard to launch a friend through a high window and safely away. They executed backflips and front flips, darting away in every direction. The last few disappeared into an open manhole. Before Jack even had a chance to say hello, they were gone. He didn’t take it personally. They did that to everybody.

  Jack walked in the door of his apartment and collapsed into a chair. From the outside his building looked like every other structure in Cognito—white stone walls with no markings of any kind, and open windows carved out in random, irregular places. Inside Jack’s apartment it didn’t look much different. He had put up no decorations, and the apartment was barely furnished. Jack didn’t waste time setting up creature comforts in the living area of the apartment, since he spent most of his time downstairs in the lab.

  The mission to the Real World combined with the Inner Circle meeting had completely wiped Jack out, but he felt guilty just sitting there in his chair. Jack never felt like he had the right to be tired, not when there was so much work to be done and he was the only one who could do it. He looked over at the door that led down to his workshop and thought about the project that was waiting for him downstairs. The real secret project that Allegra had nearly spilled the beans on—finding a cure for the Rüstov spyware virus. Jack knew he should really head down to the lab and get some work in, especially after hearing what the Rüstov agent Glave had said, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not after what had happened the last time he’d been down there. Jack looked away from the lab door. His body was weary and his eyelids were heavy. He drifted off without even trying and slept peacefully in his chair until the rumbling of the changing streets woke him up.

  The roaring din of entire city blocks grinding their way into new positions was impossible to sleep through. Jack shot up in his chair as his whole apartment started shaking and rotating counterclockwise. He went to the window and watched as the Cognito landscape did its daily exercises. Whole buildings spun around and sank into the earth, while others rose up out of it, climbing higher into the sky. Bridges separated and reattached to new end points, and street signs scrambled their letters. Roads flipped over and turned around so that dead ends became intersections and intersections became left turns. As the final pieces settled into place, Jack looked over at the building that was coming to rest next to his. It was a crooked tower with plain white walls, just like every other dwelling in the borough, but Jack recognized the handprint slapped over its front door in bright orange paint.

  “Stendeval!” Jack called out his window, hoping his friend was home. “Are you in there?”

  Moments later Stendeval appeared at his window and smiled. “Jack!” he said. “What a pleasant surprise. It’s not often that the day brings me an old friend for a new neighbor. And this saves me the trouble of coming to you. We need to talk, you and I. I was just about to have some tea up on my roof. Please join me.”

  Jack started to say he’d be right there, but before he even managed to get the words out, there was a flash of light and he felt himself being lifted off the ground. The next thing he knew, he was standing next to Stendeval on his roof deck. Red energy particles twirled about in the air above him and blew away in the breeze. Teleportation used to make Jack queasy, but he was used to it now.

  “Have a seat,” Stendeval said, motioning to a table and chairs next to a small garden that had not been watered in some time. “Let us enjoy the view for a moment.” Jack thanked Stendeval and took a seat. The garden wasn’t much to look at, but the sun was setting behind Mount Nevertop, and the crystal mountain bent the falling light out in odd, wonderful angles that lit the skyline of Empire City from behind like a halo. It was another beautiful evening in the Imagine Nation.

  “The day is nearly done, but I think I should have enough power left to provide us with some music,” Stendeval told Jack. He had a certain amount of energy available to him each day that he could use to do almost anything. Some things took a little bit of power, some took a lot, and some were beyond even his reach. When his pool of energy ran out for the day, he was just a normal man like anyone else.

  Stendeval held his hand out over the dried-up garden, and the flowers began to bloom. The withered brown stems grew into robust, luscious greens, and vines sprang out of the flower beds, weaving their way up and around the trellis that Jack and Stendeval sat beneath. Every inch of the vines blossomed with brilliant orange and yellow flowers. They were incredibly fragrant, filling the roof deck with an intoxicating aroma like gooey cinnamon cakes dipped in honey.

  “Wow,” Jack said, marveling at the exotic blooms. “That was great. But where does the music come in?”

  “These flowers are called harmonias,” Stendeval explained. “Their scent should help attract a belcanto bird, whose song will be pleasing to us. They live in the hills beyond Empire City. I didn’t have enough power left to find one and bring it here, but the harmonias will take care of that for us. Sometimes we all need a little help to get what we’re after.”

  “Help from flowers?” Jack asked.

  “Help is help,” Stendeval said as he poured the tea. “It can come from all kinds of places.” Stendeval and Jack sipped their cups in silence and watched the sun move slowly down toward the horizon.

  “We were lucky today, Jack,” Stendeval said after the sun finally went down. “If the message Jonas played for us in the sphere had mentioned the spyware virus, we would have had to come forward with what we know. I’ve held off telling the Inner Circle this long to avoid causing a panic, but there’s no point in keeping a secret if the secret is already out.”

  Jack sipped his tea, nodding slowly. “I know,” he said. “I almost wish they had talked about the virus in that message. Then at least I wouldn’t have to worry about keeping it quiet anymore. I hate this, Stendeval. It’s like Smart said, I feel like I’ve got an ax hanging over my head all the time and it’s ready to drop at any moment.”

  “I know it’s not easy,” Stendeval told Jack. “But you know what would happen if the truth came out too soon, just as well as I do.”

  Jack studied his reflection in his teacup, then pushed it away. He knew exactly what would happen. The new atmosphere of togetherness and unity in the Imagine Nation was too fragile a thing to weather the truth.

  “I know. It would stir up everyone’s fears again. We’d spend all our time trying to make sure the Mechas didn’t end up dismantled and shredded.” Jack shook his head. “We don’t have time for that. Not anymore. I mean … five days? That’s all we’ve got left?” He threw his hands up in frustration. “That Rüstov message didn’t mention the virus by name, but that had to be what Glave was talking about.”

  “That was my conclusion as well,” Stendeval said.

  “How am I supposed to solve this thing in five days?” Jack asked.

  “When last we spoke you said you were on the verge of a breakthrough.”

  “Right,” Jack replied. “A breakdown is more like it. I haven’t done anything in a week.”

  “A week?” Stendeval said, sitting up in his chair. He placed his teacup on the table next to Jack’s and leaned forward. “Jack, what happened? Tell me everything.”

  “I heard a voice,” Jack told Stendeval.

  Stendeval squinted at Jack. “I don’t understand. What voice? When?”

  “Last wee
k,” Jack said. “I was doing research. I realized I needed to know more about Rüstov systems to finish the cure-code, and I decided to study the one inside me. I reached out to my parasite with my powers. I knew it was a bad idea…. I knew it. I put off doing it for the longest time, but I wanted to finish this, so I did it anyway. I heard a voice, Stendeval. My parasite’s voice. It knows my name.”

  Stendeval looked concerned. “I see,” he said, leaning into his fist. “Are you still hearing it?”

  “No, but something’s different now,” Jack said. “It’s awake. I can feel it getting stronger. I think I made a big mistake here.”

  Stendeval didn’t say anything at first. A pained look came over his face, but he dropped it as the belcanto, a great blue bird with yellow-tipped wing feathers, landed on the roof. The bird had a proud, majestic bearing and a large orange beak. It breathed deeply of the harmonia flowers’ scent and began to sing. More birds arrived soon after to enjoy the garden’s pleasing aroma and to lend their voices to the chorus. Stendeval took a brief moment to listen to their song as he turned the matter over in his mind.

  “This changes things,” Stendeval said. “I bought us time in the sphere today, hoping that you were …” Stendeval trailed off and shook his head slightly. “So be it. Whenever you encounter a problem in life, it simply means your situation has changed,” he said, regaining an optimistic tone. “You need to take steps to deal with the new situation. Are you prepared to do that, Jack?”

  “I haven’t been prepared to do anything in more than a week. I’ve been too freaked out.”

  “Then, perhaps it’s time to bring others into the fold after all.”

  “What?”

  Stendeval motioned with his hands as if what he’d said were the most obvious thing in the world. “Our time is short and your progress has stalled. You need help,” he said. “Don’t you?”

  “From who?” Jack asked. “If you tell the Inner Circle about the virus, you’ll have to let Smart go public with Glave’s message. We just got done saying why that can’t happen. If you tell them I’m hearing voices too, it’ll be even worse.”

  “That’s true,” Stendeval replied. “But I never said I was going to tell the Inner Circle anything.”

  Now it was Jack’s turn to squint at Stendeval. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

  Stendeval got up from the table and went to stroke the neck of a singing belcanto bird. “It’s not easy keeping things from those you care about. Believe me, I know. You feel disconnected from the people you should feel close to. You spend all your time fixating on the different angles, worrying what people will think if they find out about this, but not that. That, but not this. It gets hard to keep the story straight sometimes. I once met a very witty American writer who grew up on the Mississippi River. He said: ‘If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.’” Stendeval smiled as if he’d just remembered something funny. “Of course, this was the same gentleman who said, ‘I don’t care what people say about me, as long as they don’t tell the truth.’”

  “I don’t understand,” Jack said. “I thought you just said we couldn’t tell anyone. Who am I supposed to—”

  “Your friends, Jack,” Stendeval said. “Tell your friends what’s going on.”

  “My friends?” Jack repeated. “What can they do? Computer viruses aren’t exactly their area of expertise.”

  “If nothing else, they can share your burden and help you find a way to move forward,” Stendeval replied. “You’re under too much pressure trying to do this all alone. When you first started working on the cure-code, you were making such great progress. That was part of the reason I encouraged your silence, but I can see you’ve carried these secrets too long. It’s affecting your work. With five days until the Rüstov strike, and you stalled on a cure, we no longer have the luxury of absolute secrecy. Like Jonas said earlier today, it’s only a matter of time before the truth comes out.”

  Jack let out a heavy sigh. “I know. I was thinking that too. If this SmarterNet of his can pick up Rüstov spy transmissions, it’s only a matter of time until he picks up something about the virus.”

  “I’m afraid that Agent Glave, whoever he is, is not the only possible source here either,” Stendeval said. The birds finished their song and began to fly off. Stendeval returned to the table, his hands clasped behind his back. He did not sit down. The grave look on his face had returned. “After you left the sphere, our next order of business was a trial. A real trial … for Speedrazor. He pled guilty in exchange for leniency, and revealed that the information his gang had gotten on Jonas Smart’s business had come from a most unusual source.”

  “An unusual source?” Jack repeated. “Who?”

  Before Stendeval could answer, Jack felt a strange broadcast signal fly across the airwaves, forcing itself forward like a battering ram. It was a pirate signal. Jack felt it taking over the holo-screen in his apartment next door. He saw the same thing happening on floating billboards that were hovering nearby. Screens on the sides of buildings that were playing NewsNet broadcasts got hit too, and everywhere Jack looked, he saw moving pictures cut to static. Someone was hijacking every screen in Empire City.

  “Speedrazor got his information from someone people trust to keep secrets,” Stendeval told Jack. He scrunched up his face with chagrin as the static all around was replaced by images of a cloaked figure with glowing eyes. “If I had to guess, I’d say that’s him now.”

  CHAPTER

  6

  The Rogue Secreteer

  Jack looked up at the holo-screen. The face on it was hidden behind bandages that covered the nose and mouth. A hood covered the person’s head, his glowing eyes hanging in the black shadows beneath it like lanterns in the night.

  “This message is going out across all known Imagine Nation broadcast channels,” the figure on the pirated holo-screens announced. Despite the bandages that covered his mouth, his voice came through crystal clear. It was practically hypnotic. “I do apologize for the intrusion. What I have to say is very important, and the truth is, there is no proper way to do what I am about to do. My name is Obscuro. I am a Secreteer.”

  Jack put his hands on his head and clutched at his hair. “A Secreteer?” he said. “A Secreteer is telling secrets?”

  Stendeval didn’t answer. He just put up a finger, telling Jack to wait. He was intently focused on Obscuro. Jack had never seen him like this. He looked worried. More than worried. Jack turned back to the holo-screen and listened quietly.

  “I have been a Secreteer for as long as I can remember,” Obscuro continued, his voice echoing throughout the city. “It has been both a privilege and an honor. The greatest honor of my life. For hundreds of years the Clandestine Order has hidden the Imagine Nation from the Real World … a world that doesn’t understand us. A world that isn’t ready for us. It has been our sacred duty to ensure that the Imagine Nation remains unknown until such time that the Real World can finally welcome it back.” Obscuro paused a moment and looked down. His glowing eyes dimmed. “I’m sad to say that day will never come.”

  Jack and Stendeval exchanged nervous looks, then turned back to the broadcast.

  “It is with a heavy heart that I share this with you,” Obscuro declared. “It goes against everything that I am, and was by no means an easy decision on my part. People like myself with psychic powers—memory powers—we train for years for the right to perform the order’s sacred duty all over the world. It is hard work. It’s lonely work, but we do it without complaint. I remind you all of this only so that you will not doubt my word,” he explained. “By controlling information, Secreteers maintain order in the world, and in the process, we gain knowledge. Sometimes we discover things that we would rather not know. This is one of those times. It has come to my attention that the Rüstov are coming back, and this time … this time they are going to win. In five days, starting this morning, the Rüstov are going to take over Empire City, and there’s nothing we can
do to stop them.”

  Jack slid his hands behind his head and paced around in a small circle. “I don’t believe this,” Jack said. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

  “I cannot in good conscience keep this information from you,” Obscuro went on. “There will be no beating the Rüstov this time. This is a fact. You all deserve to know at least that much. The enemy penetrated our defenses long ago, even before the invasion. Their agents are here now, even as we speak. They have been laying the groundwork for their takeover all year. I could tell you what I know of their plans … of their master spy …” Obscuro shook his head. “It would do no good. The Rüstov plot goes all the way up to Empire City’s greatest heroes, and their work is all but done. Better I give you all the choice and the chance to escape before it’s too late. I advise you all to pursue any means necessary to save yourselves. That is what I intend to do. I stand before you today, ready to break every vow I ever made to the Clandestine Order. I am selling my secrets—all of them—to finance my escape from this planet.

  “Empire City, I make you the following offer: Those of you who have money to spend and wish to know what I know, make your intentions known and I will find you. If, like me, you are leaving this place, seek me out for information you feel might aid in your escape. If you choose to stay here, seek me out for information you’ve always wanted to know before you die. All the knowledge I possess can be yours for a price. The combined secrets of the Secreteers—all the mysteries of the world—are for sale. Those of you who wish to engage my services, do not delay. Those of you who wish to stop me, do not waste your time. Believe me when I tell you there isn’t much left.”

  Jack stared out in a nearly catatonic state as the holo-screens on the floating billboards and the sides of buildings all returned to static, then one by one flipped back to their regular programming of news and advertisements. Jack realized he’d been holding his breath for half the transmission. He let it go once all the screens were back to normal.

 

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