Checking in without issue, he got up to his room and, resting his weary frame in a straight chair, he plugged in, reached back, and massaged his own shoulders. They were aching from the constant looks backward he’d been doing all night. As he felt the physical recovery begin to set in, he began to think about everything that had happened in the past six hours or so. So much of it seemed a surreal waking dream, though the reality of Jem’s death make the reality of it all hit hard. Was there anything he could have done to prevent it? It had all happened so fast, he had little clear recollection. Funny how time distorted such events. He wondered if it were built into every thinking creature. He’d read about it with people, but he didn’t recall any xenos talking about such an experience. Then again, cloak and dagger was hardly their thing. Not most of the time, anyway.
The others, could they have done something? But he’d been closest to Jem when the shots were launched. And what of the others? Were they all captured? Summarily executed, perhaps, back in the building? Not likely, he knew with relief. He hadn’t heard any followup firefights. And that wasn’t peace forcer style at any rate.
Captured, then. And how soon before one of them gave him up? He had to re-connect with the rest of the freevos. But he needed to get more information first, make sure it was safe to resurface. For now, he would remain on the run, and hope his face wasn’t already front page news.
32.
Alixs wasn’t mentioned in any news reports, nor was he on the official wanted list distributed to the press. Neither were the rest of his compatriots. Their involvement was intentionally held back, in favor of blaming the dead one.
The strategy was simple — make as much a villain out of Jem as they could. Painting him as a lunatic would go a long way towards refuting the broadcast. This was their damage control plan.
The airwaves and interwebs were already abuzz with word of the broadcast, mirrored on thousands of sites, making its way beyond the city limits and into the world. ‘Man, you gotta see this. It’s way worse than you ever thought. You won’t believe what the free evolutionists are saying!’ That sentiment, like the broadcast itself, was going viral, inside and out of the city.
Just as the insurgents had hoped, it was impossible to contain. The firebarrier was quickly enhanced, and copies taken down as soon as they cropped up. Even so, the contamination was severe. All through the halls of government and law enforcement, task forces were being prepped for the counter-offensive.
Chief Cain and First Administrator Rois were among the few who were aware of just how bad things were. Conducting separate but similar high-level meetings with their closest advisors, they demanded response scenarios and solution proposals, while at the same time fielding calls and video conferences with outsiders. They assured all concerned that everything was well contained, and completely under control. Nobody believed them, but they had to say it anyway.
“I SUGGEST WE PUT OUT more recordings, flood the bandwidths with them so nobody knows which one to believe.”
The council of advisors was engaged in emergency brainstorming, with the first administrator at the head of the table. His eyes were closed, head down. He had gone around the room once already, and shot down each proposal as it came.
“That won’t fly,” said another, offering the inevitable retort. “Cain already announced the fact that the ringleader is dead. If we put out more now, we all but admit the group is still out there.”
The originator of the suggestion fell silent. Nobody else spoke up for several minutes, until the boss raised his head.
“Thank you, everyone.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I think that’s all for now.”
The room emptied quickly, nobody willing to remain in the line of fire, and the first administrator moved slowly over to his desk, falling down into his chair. He buzzed his assistant, asking for the chief of peace.
It took a few minutes to drag the chief out of his own meeting. Apparently a call from the first administrator no longer warranted an immediate response. He did, however, apologize when he got on the line.
“That’s alright, Chief Cain, as long as you have some good news for me. So do you?”
“Not as such,” the chief replied, his voice even huskier than usual. Administrator Rois wondered if he’d gone back to his old cigar smoking habit. Taking on vices in response to stress was rare among xenos, but not unheard of.
“What have you got, then?” He assumed there was something new.
“We finished another round of interrogations. That you already knew. Nothing to report on that front. As far as the disinformation campaign is concerned...”
“Let’s try and rephrase that, shall we?”
“Okay, whatever you say.” The chief’s voice was distant. He seemed distracted in a way that was unusual for him. He wasn’t nearly annoyed enough at being corrected. Not surprising, though, the administrator thought. He was as tired and frustrated as Rois himself, surely.
“Anyway, the campaign is ramping up,” said Cain, “but I’ll need to meet with you to discuss the particulars. In private.”
Something that couldn’t be discussed over the networks? That sounded promising. And Rois was desperate for promising ideas. “When will you arrive?” the administrator asked. This had to be top priority. They needed to get out in front of this before it was too late.
“I should be there within the hour.”
“I’ll have my schedule cleared.”
CHIEF OF PEACE CAIN arrived at the first administrator’s residence an hour and a half after their phone conversation. In the meanwhile, the first administrator had wasted thirty minutes with nothing on his schedule, and was quietly seething by the time the chief was shown in.
“Nice of you to make it.” The comment shot out like a bullet. Clearly the first administrator was agitated, but Cain suspected there was something more.
The chief smiled back at him, ignoring the bait. “Sorry. Got held up.” He sat down opposite his boss, without an invitation.
“Fine. You have my attention. What was it that you couldn’t discuss even over a secure connection?”
The chief stretched, enjoying this moment of leverage. The administrator crossed his limbs and waited. He, too, knew how to play the game.
“I assume you’ve been briefed on the Loktr protocol?”
The administrator sat forward. “Yes, of course I have.”
“So you’re aware of how it works? Swarms of nanos, capable of controlling other machines—”
“By infiltrating and slaving them. I know, I was briefed. What of it?”
“Well,” the chief continued, “the project happens to be a little further along than you were led to believe.”
This revelation would normally anger the first administrator, but under the circumstances he only cared about one thing. “You mean it’s ready?”
“At your command,” the chief said. He sat back with an infectious grin, but the administrator refused to break a smile.
“What of the legalities?”
“Well, technically we can only use them within city limits...”
Cain was leaving out some major points. Once the order was given, the Loktr swarm would continue until it fulfilled the assignment. He had the option of ordering them to hunt only within the city, but if he left the order aside, there would be no recall, no reassignment. These nanobots functioned in one mode only, and self-destructed upon completion.
“How many do we have?” the administrator asked.
“Just the prototype swarm. The rest are already out of our hands.”
“The homeland security agreement?”
“Right. And each unit functions as a whole mind, which means we’ve only got one shot at this.”
“That limits our options. What if some of these terrorists have already escaped from Tera-Prime?”
“Not a problem. You can order the Loktr swarm to search a grid, a region, or,” — Cain leaned forward, lowering his voice in the process — “
unlimited range.”
It was a difficult decision. This might be the one chance to reign in their most dangerous element. Rois wasn’t the sort of leader to thwart the law, but if he played it too safe...
He dismissed his chief of peace, telling Cain to prepare for an order within the hour. He intended to make him wait at least two.
33.
“Someone want to tell me what the point of leading us all out here was?”
Sam was livid, and he’d already insisted several times that he wanted to go back and finish the fight. “What, are we just going to hide out like a bunch of rats, waiting for them to come pick us off?”
“We’re not hiding,” Liam explained, “we’re regrouping. As soon as the others get here, I’ll let you know what our next step is.”
The words mollified Sam somewhat. He still looked agitated, but said no more.
The rendezvous location had been carefully selected, still within the city limits so no exterior alarms would sound, but far enough away to keep the search parties flummoxed. It was an old warehousing zone, rows of expansive buildings that lay just inside the barrier, close to the base of the foothills. From here, they could hide out for a good long while. They were extremely close to the border, and if they were going to make a run for it, this would be the staging spot to do so.
Now that they’d exposed their plans to the authorities, there was no way they could remain in the city for long. They’d be found eventually, even out here. Alixs was surprised by the emotion that welled up when he thought of leaving Tera-Prime. It was the only home he’d ever known. He wondered what the others thought, but didn’t dare speak up. Everyone was edgy enough as it was.
Thoughts of home led to thoughts of people, the ones he would leave behind. But most of the people he’d become close with were here with him now, or on their way. Then he thought of Jem, and real grief welled up. Then there was the thought of those peace forcers, killing him. That image filled him with an angry bile, mixing with the lump in his throat, resulting in an extreme physical reaction. He pushed it back down, and tried to dismiss the thoughts entirely, but he couldn’t stop.
Alixs kept to himself, sticking to the periphery of the group as much as possible, trying not to get in anyone’s way. Of all the free evolutionists present, he was the greenest by far, and the most likely to get them all caught if he wasn’t careful. He also felt partially responsible for the studio ambush, since he’d come on-scene late and messed everything up. He knew it wasn’t fair to himself, to think that way. It was hardly his fault. They’d have been waiting to ambush them regardless. But he couldn’t help it. And if he could feel that way, someone else could too, and he had few enough friends as it was. New adversaries would be the last thing he needed.
But they left him alone, for the most part. Sam walked a power charge over to him when it went around, which he appreciated. Other than that, the only xeno who approached him was Liam.
“It’s not your fault, you know,” the instructor said, reading Alixs’ thoughts. He looked worn down. Beaten, in a sense, though still strong enough to make it an odd juxtaposition. “He’d have been killed whether you were there or not.”
“I know.”
“You did a great thing, getting the disc out. Improvising like that.”—Liam looked into his acolyte’s eyes—“We always knew there might be casualties.”
There was a pause. “What now?” Alixs asked, hoping for some pearl of wisdom.
“Now?” Liam seemed puzzled by the question. “We wait. We’ve played our hand. Now we see how quickly they play theirs. How long it takes them to get on to us. Then we figure out our next move.”
“Can’t stay here though.”
“No, we can’t.”
THE INTERROGATOR BORE a sadistic grin. They’d been going at it for what seemed like hours, and Andrw was exhausted to the point of delusion.
“I need a break,” he pled, his voice cracking under the strain. Vision starting to go, a low ringing made him worry for his hearing. In the noisy room, the endless hum of the brights in his face caused sensations of panic.
“Not yet,” the interrogator said, “not for a while. But I’m sure you could use a re-charge by now, no?”
Just the mention of it gave him hope, quickly dashed. He was on his last dregs, and couldn’t hold out much longer. The sensation of dying was palpable, and he never realized how desperate that could make one. They’d drained him on purpose, using artificial stimulants to activate every system. Now he felt like the end was near.
“You don’t even have to talk.” The interrogator’s tone had changed. He sounded kinder all of a sudden. “I’ll give you the charge you want. You obviously need it and I’m feeling...generous.”
Andrw looked up, his head shaking from the effort. “You will?”
“Indeed I will. It just so happens we’ve got our sights on your friends already, so I don’t need your help anymore.”
Real panic flooded through Andrw now. How? Did he cause it? He was sure he hadn’t. But surely they wouldn’t be letting up unless it was true. Would they?
For a split second, one second too long, Andrw let his guard down. It was the sense of hope, mixed with the sensation of supporting a lost cause; the combination broke down his barriers, just for a moment. But a moment was all they needed. The image of the rendezvous point flashed through his mind, and up onto their monitors at the same time.
“Got it!” One of the technicians shouted. At the same time the interrogator clapped in triumph and turned to see. Andrw had just as quickly shunted the image away, where they couldn’t get it. But his shaking head gazed up at the screens and it was still there, plain as day, just as he’d thought it moments ago. He was beaten.
“Give him his charge.” The muffled, distant sound of the interrogator’s voice barely registered, as blackness appeared on the outskirts of Andrw’s vision, closing in to put a stop to the ordeal.
“I’M SURE WE COULD GET more if we press him,” the interrogator insisted, shifting from limb to limb in a state of excitation.
Don’t enjoy your job too much, Cain thought. “No, we’ve got enough to move on. Leave him for now.”
The interrogator gave a curt bow, spun smartly, and departed. Go punch some walls, Cain said to himself. Then he turned to his second in command. “Activate three mobile units and order them to cover all the back doors from the outside.”
“Outside?” ‘Guarding the doors’ was a common enough procedure. They commonly spread out to watch the perimeter exits during routine drills. But they never left the city, they always operated from the inside out.
“You heard me.”
34.
The names of the captured were carved into the wall of the abandoned warehouse, with Jem’s name on top. Liam had granted special dispensation to mark the occasion in such a way, provided they take precautions. None of the impromptu memorial could be traceable back to any of the remaining freevos. The ‘forcers could hardly gain much from learning the names of people they’d already captured or killed. And it was freevo policy to admit their involvement freely, so there was no danger of betrayal from the group.
They held a brief ceremony, off-the-cuff and pressed for time, but the emotion was strong. Then they stood silent for a minute before tear-down — the removal of all remaining traces of their presence. No sense in giving the cops additional clues. Besides, this place might be of use again in the future, by other freedom seekers looking for a way out.
They were almost finished and preparing to depart when shouts filtered in from outside. Someone yelled ‘Get back, he’s got a gun!’, then another called out ‘Show yourself!’. Jumping into defensive positions, the group fell silent and waited for an attack. Less than a minute later, one of them barked the all-clear. The expressions on their faces wondered the same question...What just happened?
The two sentries posted at the door came in, a figure slumped over their shoulders and staggering badly. Fluid spattered the floor in his wa
ke, and Liam motioned for one of the others to clean it up.
The sentries managed to get the wounded xeno onto a couch in one of the offices, where the medic got to work cleaning him up. After a few minutes, the medic gave his report. “No broken limbs as far as I can tell. Head trauma, that’s worrisome. Otherwise, he’s just banged up.”
“I can talk to him, can’t I?” Liam asked.
“If you make it quick.”
Andrw leaned back on a battered sofa. He was patched up somewhat, and looking better for his brief recovery. He smiled when Liam entered, but it disappeared almost instantly. His lip quivered.
“It’s okay Andrw. You’re safe now.”
The young xeno burst into tears. “I’m sorry Liam. I’m so sorry.”
“Easy, Andrw,” Liam said. In trying to bring comfort to his wounded comrade, he moved in closer, but was afraid to embrace his friend, lest he hit a vulnerable spot. “Take it easy. It’s okay.”
Andrw sniffed, coughing on the gunk that had built up in his throat. A trickle of snot ran down his chin. He looked up at Liam. “I’m so sorry. I tried to lose them. It’s all my fault!”
“Hey! Don’t say that.” The leader spoke in calming tones, for both their sakes. Lose them? What’s he talking about. “Take it easy Andrw, just say what you’re trying to say.”
“They made me, Liam. I thought I’d lost ‘em but they made me. Back a ways down the trail...they were using drones or something.” He swallowed, moaned, and leaned over, retching into a bucket of rags. “I’m so sorry. We’ve got to get out of here!”
THE ELECTRONIC BARRIER was originally intended to corral lower caste robotic servants who would, from time to time, stray too far from their owners. Not so much an escape attempt as a malfunction, it occurred with enough regularity that a warning system had to be put into place, if only to keep the Indian country beyond from being littered with mechanical corpses. At first, only a physical fence had been constructed—but soon enough came machines capable of climbing, digging, and cutting their way through such obstacles. Electrified fences proved detrimental to local wildlife and the occasional hiker, not to mention costly to the robot’s owners. Too often they received back fried mechanical remnants of their servants. In the end, the barrier was a compromise everyone could live with, unless you happened to be a citizen looking to escape. Conspiracy theorists claimed that was the intent all along. And given the fact that the barrier trapped everything, organic as well as mechanical, the conjecture had some merit.
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