“Shouldn’t you be more worried about Captain Chainsword?” Serena growled.
“No, I like him.” Merra gave Aerie a wink. “And I think he’s well suited for her.”
Aerie frowned, fighting off another round of embarrassment. “I don’t want to talk about him with you,” she snapped. “I don’t want to talk about him with any of you. I’ve told you the truth, and that’s all you need to know about him.”
“I disagree,” Serena said.
“What, are you jealous?” Dorian asked. He shrugged. “Aerie’s in love with a terrorist, let her be in love with a terrorist.”
“He’s not the bad guy!” Aerie said. “He’s trying to protect the world.”
“Aerie’s right,” Merra asserted. “Do you think in the last eighty or so years of the URS rule, they’ve really made life better for their people? They’ve really only found an effective means of controlling them, and their overconfidence has finally shown their weakness.”
“The URS isn’t perfect,” Serena said through clenched teeth. “But this idea that overthrowing them is somehow a better option is just illogical.”
“That’s why Petra is here,” Merra said. “You haven’t been here long, but surely you can see that the system they have in place here works.”
“They’re buying goods on a black market,” Serena said. “And they’re using people inside the URS to betray their nation.”
“People don’t work in collectives very well,” Merra said. “It’s been a downside to the URS tribal conditioning for years.”
“Their system might work for a population this small, maybe,” Dorian said. “But for the world? I doubt it would work.”
“The URS hasn’t even conquered the world, despite their attempts,” Merra said. “If it weren’t for all the nuclear fallout from before the creation of the Revolutionary States, they wouldn’t even have what they do.”
“Well, what does work?” Cal asked. “So far, the rest of the world has some catching up to do. Like it or not, the URS is still the best place in the world to be.”
“That’s propaganda at its finest,” Merra said, rolling her eyes. “We can go back to a republic system.”
“Republics don’t work.” Serena leaned over the table. “They’ve only worked for a couple of times, and then, for only a few hundred years at a time.”
“The URS has only been in power for about eighty,” Merra argued back. “And it’s already breaking down.”
“That’s because of people like you,” Serena insisted. “People who want to do their own thing and won’t listen to rational arguments.”
“First, people are able to rationalize just about anything, including the brainwashing of populations. Second, there’s more to life than reason,” Merra said. “Call it luck or fate or miracles, there’s more than enough evidence to suggest that being completely rational doesn’t work, either.”
“Human beings are rationale creatures. We seek out order.”
“Human beings are also irrational creatures,” Merra argued back. “We are also incapable of keeping order.”
“Forcing order is better.”
“Better than what? Acknowledging our shortcomings and finding a system that will check individual as well as group influence?”
“Stop,” Aerie cried, interrupting. “That’s enough. We’re not getting anywhere.” She turned to face her mother. “We’re here because you wanted to see us. I’ve made up my mind. I’m leaving, and the others need to come with me. Director Ward will be looking for us soon.”
“Wait.” Merra stood up. “Just give me another few moments.”
“To say what?” Aerie asked. “You’ve already told us you were working against the URS. That’s enough of a reason to fake your death and leave us behind, isn’t it?”
Her tone was scathing, and Aerie was satisfied to see Merra wince.
“I know that’s what it seems like,” Merra said. “But I’m telling you the truth. I worked to shuffle a lot of the research in the horticulture department out to Chaya, where we have continued research. You want to know why Exton started fighting with us? Because I convinced him we could finally win if we supported each other.”
“You?” Aerie felt the breath rush out of her.
“You’re the leader of the defectors?” Cal asked, while Dorian’s hand flew up to cover his dropped jaw.
“There are several leaders, and several different factions around the world that are defectors,” Merra said. “But I’m one of them. I lead Chaya’s forces.”
“Can you dimwits see it? She’s always been the enemy,” Serena said darkly. “Phoebe told me that she was under a lot of scrutiny, so that’s why it was better she died.”
“What?” Aerie frowned. “Phoebe never said that.”
“She never said it to you,” Serena said. “She knew you were the one who was most like Mom. Phoebe doesn’t tell you anything, or even do anything for you, unless she has to because of that. And that’s also why when the General warned us not to let anything happen to you, we figured it was a smart move to protect our unit.”
“And even then, you managed to go and ruin everything, dragging Brock and then us into it,” Dorian added. Aerie was about to round on him when he smiled. “I guess we should’ve been watching you more closely. You’re more of a force to be reckoned with than I imagined.”
Cal huffed. “Yeah, really.”
Their admiration, even if it was reluctantly given, left Aerie even more speechless.
She was saved from responding when she heard a familiar voice behind her.
“I’m here, Merra.”
Aerie glanced up, surprised to see Alice suddenly standing next to Merra. “Alice!” she cried happily, jumping up out of her seat at the sight of her coworker and her friend. “You’re here.”
“Hi Aerie,” Alice replied. She gave her a polite nod. “I heard that you’d arrived here. I’m glad to see the rumors were true.”
Aerie grinned, but before she could ask Alice about anything else, she noticed Alice was holding the hand of a small boy.
“Who’s that?” Aerie asked. “Your little brother or something?”
“No,” Alice said. “He’s your little brother.”
Aerie felt her legs back into the table, and she scrambled to sit down. She glanced over at Merra. “Mom?” she asked.
Merra nodded. “This is Marcus,” she said. “When I left you, I was close to a month pregnant.”
“But ... you already have four kids,” Serena said, her voice full of confusion.
Merra nodded. “I know. Turns out, sometimes the body can heal from the URS’s sterilization methods.”
“So that’s the real reason you left,” Aerie said. “You didn’t want to give Marcus up.”
“It would have been impossible to hide him,” Merra said quietly. “And you know how much the government is willing to allow for mistakes.”
“The downfall of freedom is that people can make bad choices,” Aerie murmured.
Merra took Marcus into her arms. “He’s four years old right now,” she said, as Cal and Dorian came over to get a closer look. “But I’ve told him stories about you all his life. He’s been looking forward to meeting you.”
Aerie saw even Serena was curiously staring at the surprise addition to their family.
“Hi,” the small boy said, looking just as intrigued by the people around the table as they were about him.
“Hi,” Aerie replied, automatically smiling. So that was why Mom left us. To fight the URS and save her baby.
She knew enough about the sterilization laws to know Merra was right; there would have been no way to save Marcus had she tried to stay. He would have been terminated as soon as they found out about him.
But why didn’t she tell me? Aerie wondered. Didn’t she trust me?
That seemed to be the running theme throughout her life. Her unit had worked to protect her, from her father and her mother all the way down to her siblings. Even Cla
ire had mentioned that they needed to watch her because she didn’t seem capable of taking care of herself. And then there was Exton, who told her on the Perdition he didn’t want to trust her, even if he was tempted to.
But he trusts me now, Aerie recalled. Maybe that was something—a sign that things were going to change.
She smiled as Marcus reached out for her, and she realized that things were already changing.
As she held her brother for the first time, Aerie decided that she could understand her mother’s actions, even if she wasn’t ready to forgive her completely. But Exton is right, she thought. I probably will forgive her.
“Aerie,” Marcus said.
“What is it?” she asked.
“That’s you.”
Aerie giggled. “Yep, that’s me.”
Marcus backed away from her. “I want our mommy back now.”
“Alright.” Aerie gave him a smile as she handed him back to Merra, who looked at her with pride.
“I might not have been the best mother to you, Aerie,” Merra told her quietly, “but I think you’ll make a good one yourself.” She grinned. “If that’s what Exton wants, too, of course. A strong marriage helps make a strong family.”
“Mom.” Aerie flushed over again, but this time she felt less embarrassed and more emboldened.
Before she could further respond, a siren started going off.
Instantly, the other residents started to move, many of them standing up and leaving their food behind.
Aerie flinched at the high-pitched sound, wishing it was as acceptable for her to place her hands over her ears as it was for Marcus.
Before she could ask what was happening, Merra took charge. “We have to get to the shelter, now.”
When they all failed to move, she glowered down at them, reminding Aerie of the few times she’d seen her mother get angry when they were younger.
“I said, now!” she yelled, already turning toward the exit. “Move!”
Aerie snapped to attention and hurried after her.
The instant she was out of the commissary, she felt a hand grab her.
It was Brock. “Come with me,” he said.
Aerie glanced back to see Merra and the others were still headed down the hall. No one noticed Brock had begun to pull her toward the hangar. “What’s going on?”
“We’re leaving.”
Aerie struggled to break free. “I’m supposed to follow them.”
“I know you don’t want to lose them. But if you really want to save them, you’ll come with me.”
“What are you talking about?” Aerie asked, taking another step back from him.
Brock’s hazel eyes, once so kind and capable, turned dark. “The URS is on their way here.”
Aerie narrowed her eyes. “How do you know?”
“Why else would alarms be going off?” Brock asked, gesturing to the flood of people running around them.
“It could be a drill.” Aerie felt like kicking herself for how weak her argument sounded.
“No.” Brock shook his head. “I was worried about this. The URS has picked up on your signal.”
“Signal?”
Brock lowered his gaze. “Serena told me while you were asleep in the ship,” he said, “that you had something strange in your blood. I remembered later that all those who are admitted for reeducation are tagged and a tracer is placed inside of them. I didn’t get a chance to tell you before ... before we were distracted by everything, with the Craftcarriers and then with Captain Chainsword.”
Aerie felt the blood drain out of her face as Brock reached out and took her hand. Turning it over, he ran his fingers over the small, rubber bumps on her wrist, the ones that were branded into her skin. “There,” he said. “There’s a tracker underneath this that’s welded into your skin and bloodstream.”
Aerie felt her knees buckle. “I did this,” she whimpered, looking around as the sirens continued to flash. Outside, she could hear activity in the hangar as ships were getting readied. “They’re going to kill everyone here. And it’ll be all my fault.”
“Come with me,” Brock said. He tugged her to her feet. “You know I’m a good pilot. I can take you out of this place, and then the URS will follow. Come on.”
He started to lead her toward the hangar, and Aerie stumbled along behind him.
What should I do? What’s going to happen?
Suddenly, she stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Brock asked.
“I don’t know,” Aerie said slowly. She looked back in the direction where her family had gone. “I think we should tell the others first.”
“You’ll only waste time,” Brock warned her.
“I’m not sure this will work.”
“Yes, it will,” he insisted. “Please, Aerie. It’s me, Brock. We’ve been friends for years. You know you can trust me. I know you’re not in love with me, but I’ve known you for a long time, and you’ve only known this Exton guy for what? Three weeks? A month? Are you really going to believe him over everything you’ve known and lived for since you were born?”
Aerie looked up at Brock, feeling helpless. She had no way of explaining to him just how much Exton had changed her life without hurting him.
“He told me the truth,” Aerie finally said. “It doesn’t matter what I knew before if it wasn’t the truth.”
Brock tightened his grip on her. “Aerie, I feel like I’ve lost you.”
“I don’t feel like I’m lost,” Aerie replied. “I feel ... I feel almost like I’ve been found.” Something had changed, she realized. Something had changed since she found herself on the Perdition, and even though she couldn’t fully explain it, she knew it was a change in the right direction. It wasn’t just Exton, or his family, or even his cause. It was something else, something more, and she could not explain that to Brock.
“If I can’t change your mind about this,” Brock said, “I have no other choice.”
Aerie gave him a tentative smile. “Thank you for letting me make my own decision about this, Brock. I know it has to be hard for—”
Her words were cut off when Brock’s fist shot out as he began attacking her.
♦25♦
Exton watched, momentarily transfixed, as Patty put down her empty mug on a nearby countertop, while activity continued to bustle all around them. Time had passed both quickly and slowly, and he’d forgotten his own coffee cup in the wake of oncoming battle.
Emery was sitting down at a desk, finally, as she was searching through some of their older records.
“We have a legion of URS forces in Panama,” she said, pulling a map up onto her screen. “There are some scattered forces in other South American principalities, but Panama has the highest soldier count.”
“That’s got to be one of their loading sites.” Exton centered himself in the middle of the room, watching as Patty sent the evacuation codes, while he talked with Henry Carville, Tyler’s primary copilot now that Jared was grounded.
“Okay, Captain,” Henry said, “we’re sending the latest imaging. It looks like you’re right. There’s been some massive damage to the area where you landed.”
“Great.” His sarcasm was sharp enough to draw blood. Exton tapped his foot impatiently, watching for updated satellite feeds to come in. “Let’s get a good look at it. We need to know what kind of fire power they have onboard. There’s got to be more than what we saw while we were in the air.”
“Affirmative,” Henry said. “I’ll send these down to Rhodey, too, to see if he can’t help us identify any.”
“Thanks. Tell Rhodey he has my thanks, too.” Exton sighed.
From the information that the Perdition had been able to pick up from their location, there were only three major Craftcarriers currently in movement, as they slowly circled the world, hidden by the dense cloud cover.
The Craftcarrier they ran into earlier was still afloat, running on standby power, but its movements, especially toward the clear skies of the Antarc
tic Ocean, had finally allowed for it to reveal itself.
“Did Tyler and his crew find any additional leads from Panama?” Exton asked. “IP addresses, coding signals, hidden frequencies, anything?”
“Not sure. I’ll have an analyst look at the information we pulled up, so we can anticipate them in the future,” Henry said. “For right now, there’s only one carrier coming your way.”
Exton had to bite back his sarcasm. “Good.”
“Exton,” Emery called. “I found them.”
“You found the blueprints?” Exton stepped over to see Emery’s progress.
“Yep. Here they are—Papa’s old Craftcarrier schematics.” Emery frowned. “We won’t know how much they were modified by the final team of engineers.”
Exton glanced down at the files, dismayed to find Emery had a point. “Em, see if you can pull up the log from my Chainsword shuttle. We can try to compare and see if they made any significant modifications on the outside.”
“Good idea.”
Exton glanced over at the time. He was tempted to ask Henry if Tyler was awake yet. The early morning hours had passed, but he knew day shift wouldn’t be up for another hour onboard the Perdition.
“These files are scattered everywhere,” Emery said. “Look, there’s an old blueprint of the Perdition in here, too.”
“Silas was commissioned to work on the Paradise—I mean the Perdition—before the Craftcarriers were finished,” Patty said. “The URS had to coordinate it between several different building sites. Silas hated moving from site to site. That was part of the reason he was very adamant about keeping the Perdition close by and in one primary location.”
“I do remember visiting one of the sites for the carriers when we were younger,” Emery said. “When was that, Exton? When I was six?”
“If you’re thinking of the one in the Canadian West, even younger than that, I think,” Exton said. “Papa began working on the Perdition when I was seven. I got to help him with some of the construction.”
They glanced down at the scanned prints. Exton recognized several examples of his father’s trademark style—the efficient spacing, the security designs, and the centric clusters of living and command centers.
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