Uprising

by Gareth Otton

  “They’re voting in a week. We don’t have time to chip away at this.”

  “I’ve not been sitting on my thumbs since this thing poked it’s head above ground. I’m winning people around to my way of thinking, but if you keep going around like a walking natural disaster, then you’re just going to undo all that hard work.” He sighed and rubbed his face, looking exhausted. “It’s my fault. I pushed too hard for you to come to the council, despite everything happening with Jen. I should have given that situation room to breathe.

  “But I don’t have a choice. I know it’s hard, but you’ve got to get your head in the game. That means no more snapping at reporters, overreacting to things in public, and definitely no more breaking and entering. When people see you go off half cocked, they wonder what would happen if you ever really lose it. We already came close when you kicked the Dream Team out of the Phoenix.”

  “They were destroying ghosts. I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “I know. Stella gave me the full report and I’m as horrified as you are. But I’m trying to show that things are getting better in the Borderlands. Seeing you at odds with the team I’ve framed as our protectors isn’t doing anything good.”

  Tad opened his mouth to protest again, but Norman raised his hand for quiet.

  “Enough, I get your point and agree with you. Any more arguing and we’d just be talking past each other.” He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of his face. Finally he asked, “Did you find a way in?”

  “What?”

  “I assume you sent the ghosts in here to find a way past the dreamcatchers. Did you find a way in?”

  Tad hesitated, not sure he wanted to reveal the truth should he ever need to break in again. However, his temper had cooled, and he recognised it wasn’t in either of their interests for him to hold back.

  “I did. These dreamcatchers don’t affect ghosts, so I can send them inside and use Dream to let them disable the dreamcatchers.”

  “So simple,” Norman groaned. “We’ll have to speak to Mitena and see if she can plug up that hole in the defences.”

  As he spoke he turned his attention to the large dreamcatcher on the wall of his office. It had been cast out of steel and was backed by a newly developed smart material that had incredible insulation properties. Thanks to the amount of heat steel could withstand before degrading, they were confident that the dreamcatcher could work indefinitely when under use; and thanks to the material, it wouldn’t burn the building down in the process.

  There were a hundred similar designs placed all around the building, just as there were thousands more placed in secure facilities across the country. However, though they were a big step beyond the painted designs Mitena started with, they were still only a fraction of what Tad felt they could be.

  “Thank god we have her,” Norman said. “The more I think about it, the more I know these dreamcatchers are the answer to this.”

  “What do you mean?” Tony asked.

  “I mean that this coming war is all about imbalance. People feel we have too much power in the Borderlands. These balance the scales somewhat. The more I see them work, the more sure I am that they’ll one day change the world. I think we’re only scratching the surface of what they can do. Look at the Dream Team. Trevors’ men were little more than backup for your dreamwalkers a few months ago, now they’re a power to be reckoned with.”

  “That’s not necessarily a good thing,” Tad pointed out.

  “No, but when you want to change the world, you’ve got to accept both sides of the coin. The internet did more to empower people the world over than anything in human history, but it also empowered criminals to do terrible things. It’s a tool at the end of the day, just like these things. It’s up to us how we use them. Dreamcatchers will be the ultimate tool when they evolve enough. It’s a shame we can’t speed that up.”

  Tad thought about Tony’s idea of going into business with Mitena and developing these further. Hearing the Prime Minister’s words, Tad realised Tony wasn’t wrong. Dream had limitless potential, and Mitena’s designs were only held back by their user’s ability to uncover that potential. Given the right design and the right material, anything was possible.

  The biggest downside was will. Unless in response to an external Dream related force like a dreamwalker or nightmare, a dreamcatcher required the will of a user to activate it. At the moment that required direct contact, which was a problem with how hot they got. If they could figure out a way to fix that, then Norman might just be right.

  However, that was a thought for another day and they were getting sidetracked.

  “This bill can’t pass, Norman. It will be a tragedy. Please, there must be something I can do to help stop it.”

  “Just give me room to work and stay out of the headlines. And for the love of God, don’t try anything like this again. I will overlook it with everything going on, but there’s only so much that even I can let slide. Everything we’ve achieved so far will be for nothing if you tank it now.”

  Tad nodded and rose to leave, motioning for the ghosts to do the same.

  “Don’t shut me out again, Norman,” he said. “You’ve asked a lot from me, and that’s fine, I deserve as much for my part in this. But don’t manipulate me. That’s all I ask. Just be honest and open.”

  “I will,” was the last thing Norman said before Tad and his ghosts disappeared.

  Tad didn’t need Stella’s skills to know he couldn’t trust that promise.

  12

  Friday, 25th November 2016

  12:11

  “Leon, stop flirting with the customers and go put the delivery away,” Rachel shouted from behind the bar, pulling Leon’s attention from the table of giggling beauties.

  “We didn’t mean to get you in trouble. Tell her it’s our fault,” one of the woman said, batting her pretty, brown eyes while he collected their glasses.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll survive.”

  Offering them a wink for good measure, he headed back to the bar where Rachel was waiting. She was a short woman in her early forties who carried herself with the tough demeanour of some of the older women back on Hydra. Were she forty years older, she’d fit in well with his grandmother.

  However, just like his grandmother, he knew that while she may be as tough as boot leather, the stern attitude was only skin deep. She was fighting back a smile as she shook her head in mock annoyance.

  “I didn’t hire those big muscles of yours to flirt, you’re here to work.”

  “A happy customer is a returning customer,” Leon said, not trying for a second to hide his cheeky grin.

  Rachel snorted, then whipped her ever present tea towel at him.

  “Enough of your cheek. Go sort that delivery. It won’t wait all day.”

  “Your wish is my command,” he said, laughing as he skipped away from her deadly cloth and slipped through the door leading to the rear of the pub.

  Gina’s was a large bar at the heart of Cardiff that Rachel co-owned with her sisters and was named after their mother. It had a reputation for good food by day and good drink by night, so it was always full. As a result, when Leon stepped into the alley behind the pub he found a sizable delivery waiting.

  “Is it just you moving this?” one of the two delivery men asked as Leon started counting the stock.

  “Unless you want to stay and help,” Leon said with a friendly smile.

  The man looked at the massive pile of beer kegs, crates of bottles and even a few cannisters of gas and shook his head.

  “It’ll make me late for my last delivery and I’ve got kids to get home to. The school run waits for no one.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll be fine.”

  “You’ll be out here all day is what you’ll be,” the man said as he closed up the back of his truck and accepted the signed papers and clipboard from Leon. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks, I’ll need it,” Leon said as he grabbed the first cra
te and carried it inside. When he came back out again, the truck was pulling away and Leon looked around to ensure the coast was clear. His smile widened. The driver was right, he would be here forever… unless he cheated.

  With no one watching, he grabbed another crate and placed it atop a second. He added a third to that, a fourth and a fifth, and only stopped there because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get more under the doorframe. Whistling a merry tune, he lifted the stack filled with glass bottles and liquid that barely felt any heavier than when he carried the first crate on its own.

  It was at times like this that needing to keep his talents secret grated on him. He understood the need for that secrecy, but he was proud of what he could do. All these years he’d held himself back, excelling in some ways but never letting his true strength show. But there was always a temptation to reveal himself and see how far he could push his strength.

  He carried two stacks of six on the next run, trusting his strength to press the bottom crates together. If they slipped, he’d lose it all, but they didn’t slip and two trips later he’d put away half the order. All that was left were the beer kegs, and they weren’t so easy to stack. These he placed side by side, looping his fingers through the metal handle on the rim and his thumbs through the handles of a second keg, picking up two in each hand. They were the largest kegs the brewery shipped and most of the staff waddled them if they needed them moved, yet Leon’s only trouble was making sure he didn’t swing them too much and take out a wall by accident.

  Truth be told, he enjoyed this and was getting a little careless, which is why he jumped so hard when the voice spoke up.

  “Why do I get the impression those aren’t empties?”

  Leon spun, nearly losing control of the kegs in his left hand and only avoiding a collision with the doorframe by the narrowest margin.

  Like most people on the planet, Leon subscribed to this woman’s YouTube channel. The reporter that broke the news of the Merging was almost as famous as Tad and Stella. She was also the last person Leon wanted to meet while holding a quarter-ton of beer off the ground like he was carrying shopping from the car.

  “Of course they’re empty,” he lied.

  “Then why are you taking them back into the pub?”

  She placed her hand on one of the remaining kegs and pushed. It didn’t so much as tremble. Her smile widened.

  “I knew there was something special about you,” Lizzie said as she removed a camera from her bag.

  Years of lessons drummed into him as a kid about not exposing their kind made him drop the kegs before she could get any proof.

  “Me, special?” He laughed to buy himself time to think. “You’re mistaken. I’m just moving some empties and you got the wrong idea.”

  “Just like this one over here is empty? Putting that aside, how do you explain shrugging off a direct blow from a roided-up monster tapping a dreamcatcher outside The Pheonix last week? You barely even flinched.”

  “His centre of balance was off, plus I’ve taken a few years of judo. I know how to throw a guy when I need to.”

  “Except that you didn’t move an inch, and he hit you dead centre. Trust me, I’ve watched that footage a thousand times.”

  Leon cringed. This wasn’t good.

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” he answered, suddenly desperate to speak to Stella so they could deal with this. In the months he’d known her, he soon recognised how smart she was and knew that if anyone could rescue this situation, it was her. It was one of the many amazing things about his cousin that made him want to stick around and left him so angry that his grandmother kept her existence secret. “I’ve got to put away this delivery, so if you don’t mind.”

  Conscious of the camera, he made a show of picking up the beer kegs as though it was heavy and tried to ignore her hysterical laughter at his act.

  “Of course you do,” she said. “Don’t mind me, I won’t be in your way. I just want to ask a few questions.”

  “There’s nothing interesting about me,” he tried, wishing he spent as much time cultivating belief in his mental abilities as he had his physical ones so he could talk his way out of this.

  “I think there’s a lot to be interested in, starting with how you look so similar to our favourite DT Director. You’re related to Stella, aren’t you? You her twin or something?”

  “Cousin,” he admitted as he grabbed another keg and carried it inside. It dismayed him to see her follow him into the building. “You’re not supposed to be in here.”

  “You look similar considering you’re only cousins. Those are some strong genes. That’s not all there is though, right? I mean, you’re obviously strong and Stella is stronger than she looks. What else do you have in common?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “So you’re saying you’re not so strong you could forget you’re holding something casually in one hand that most men couldn’t lift with two?”

  Realising he’d forgotten his act in the face of her questions and was holding the heavy barrel like it weighed nothing, he dropped it and turned on her.

  “What’s your problem?”

  She smiled like he said the very thing she wanted to hear.

  “When people get angry with me, I always know I’m getting closer to the truth.”

  “What truth?” he asked. “I’m just a guy who came to this country to meet his cousin. It’s no big deal.”

  “Of course it’s not. Where did you say you were from? Somewhere in Greece, right, judging by your accent?”

  “I think you should go,” he said, realising he’d said too much.

  “I don’t think so. I want to hear the rest of your story. You and Stella are hiding something important and I want to know what it is.”

  “I’m not hiding anything,” he said as he gave up the pretence and carried the last barrels inside. Luckily, she wasn’t expecting it and hadn’t started filming. “And I need to get on with my work, so if you don’t mind.”

  He stepped inside and tried to close the door in her face, but she was too quick and slipped in with him, standing really close.

  “Just answer a few questions and I’ll be out of your hair,” she said.

  He was tempted to throw her onto the street, but couldn’t trust himself right now. His emotions were high, and he learnt long ago that he needed to be careful at times like this. He was too strong to lose control. So instead of throwing her out, he walked through the rear of the pub, headed for the bar, Lizzie one step behind him.

  “Look, if you don’t want me to publish anything, I don’t have to,” she said as she hurried to catch up. “I just want to know what’s going on. I’ve done a lot for Stella and Tad, and I deserve to know if there’s something they’re not telling me. Especially if there’s something supernatural out there that’s not related to Dream.”

  Leon was just stepping out behind the bar when she threw out that last statement, and he stopped mid-stride and spun to face her.

  She flashed a pretty smile that was all white teeth, dimples and sparkling green eyes. He was very aware of how young and innocent she looked, and realised just how she used that to her advantage. If it was a man being this pushy, he would have thrown them out by now, but it was easy to overlook just how dangerous she was.

  However, she proved why she was so dangerous with that last statement. Suspecting there was something different about him and Stella was one thing, but to guess it wasn’t Dream related was something else. The trouble was, he didn’t know how to answer without giving himself away.

  “You need to go,” was all he could think of saying. “If my boss catches you here, I’ll lose my job.”

  “Answer my questions and I’ll be out of your hair.”

  Leon rubbed his temples to ease his sudden headache and when he opened his eyes again, there must have been something in his eyes that told her how hard he was trying to contain his temper. Her smile slipped.

  “I just want
the truth,” she whispered.

  “And I want to get on with my shift. I have nothing to tell you.”

  She snorted and shook her head.

  “You’re just like your cousin, always hiding something. I’ll find out what it is.”

  “Who the hell is that and what’s she doing behind my bar?”

  Leon had never been so happy to hear the crisp tones of angry Rachel. He glanced over his shoulder to see his red-faced boss storm from the kitchen, headed straight for them.

  “She snuck in and won’t leave,” he said, willing to let Rachel deal with this.

  “Then throw her out.”

  “I would but…” he held up his hands as his words trailed off, stepping back from Lizzie like he didn’t want to touch her. Rachel put the clues together and her anger turned on Lizzie.

  “He might have a problem getting rough with a woman, but if you’re not out of my pub in the next ten seconds, you’re still going to leave, just without your teeth,” she snapped. The way her fists balled up and she stalked Lizzie down like an angry gorilla, leant a lot of weight to her threat.

  “I’m going,” Lizzie said, holding up her hands in surrender. However, she couldn’t leave without getting in the last word. “But I won’t forget this, Leon. I’ll find the truth whether you want me to or not, so you might as well make it easy for yourself.”

  “Get out,” Rachel snarled, and suddenly Lizzie was running.

  Leon breathed a sigh of relief as the angry chef chased the woman out of her pub and again rubbed his temples. This was a nightmare. He almost didn’t want to tell Stella as he didn’t want to see her disappointment. However, he knew his limits, and he needed someone smarter than himself to help with this.

  He cringed as the consequences of ignoring this flashed through his mind. First his grandmother would kill him for breaking the rules, then the Eidolon council might actually kill him.