by Lynda Engler
The group had been hanging out in their apartment all day, watching the news broadcasts, eating, talking, planning, and philosophizing. No one cared anymore if anyone was eavesdropping on their conversations. Everyone in the city was talking about the protests.
The greenhouse standoff was not the only protest that day either. A group of workers at the electrical plant shut down power to levels one and two for over an hour before the military arrested them and restarted the electricity. Government offices were on those levels, the obvious target of the activists.
“Oh man, I bet Harrison was livid!” squealed Roan, the boy’s eyes alight and excitement pouring from him like sunshine through a clean windowpane.
Isabella enjoyed that imagery. She missed the Outside. Living inside of a mountain was the exact opposite of what she wanted. She had left her underground shelter to travel Outside with the new humans and the love of her life. She had to get them and herself out of here. This place was never meant to be her future.
Nor were the troubles limited to their city. Their country’s other large city, Cheyenne Mountain, located deep underground in what was once the NORAD control center in Colorado, had disturbances as well. Those civil disobediences were smaller and more vocal than they were physical; nevertheless, the people of that city were just as angry at President Harrison’s actions regarding both the treatment of mutants and his blatant disregard for his own citizen’s privacy. People were adhering copies of the U.S. Constitution onto buildings, signs, and even monorail cars, in both cities. The news media broadcasted a story about a student protest in one of the Federal Relocation Centers. Isabella wondered how a community of only about 100 people could even have a protest, but she knew that people – especially idealistic young people – always bristled at impingement upon their freedoms.
Her thoughts of freedom were abruptly sidetracked when the apartment door opened, admitting Dr. Rosario. His scowl preceded him by a mile and Isabella knew what he was going to say before anyone in the crowded room even asked.
“We have preliminary results of testing on the second version of the immunization,” he announced.
Maddox all but jumped out of his chair, moving his lazy ass faster than Isabella had ever seen. “Here, Doctor, take my seat.” The young lead singer could be amazingly respectful of adults, for all his blustery façade.
Dr. Rosario gratefully nodded his thanks and then slumped into the recently vacated armchair. “It seems to work well enough, even with the barbaric onslaught of testing we have put the subjects through. I am quite amazed at its efficacy. Pleasantly surprised.”
“That’s great, isn’t it?” asked Isabella, hope shining in her eyes.
“Yes and no,” replied the scientist. “President Harrison has requested – if requested is the proper verb – that he be informed about every result immediately. He has actually posted an aid in the lab with us. Can you believe it? Anyway, we had no choice but to inform the aid of our results. He stands there all day like a guard. So of course, he immediately messaged the President. President Harrison was pleased with the news and is convinced V2 is effective but he also immediately declared that only humans can have it. No mutants… sorry Isabella – I know you prefer we call them new humans – regardless what name you give them, they will not be administered the vaccine.” He ran a hand aggressively through his thinning hair.
“Wait, that doesn’t make sense,” added Luke. “Is he going to stop the cleaning missions?”
The scientist shook his head.
“But they’ll die!” exclaimed Nuala. Being worried about her sister had made the girl even more quiet than usual, so her outburst startled Isabella.
“But Dr. Rosario,” said Isabella. “I don’t get it. The ones who need the inoculation are the ones out there. The shelter folk aren’t going Outside yet. Are we?”
The man’s shoulders slumped and his eyes cast down in a mournful gaze. “No.”
Isabella continued. “So, who is going to get the inoculation?”
Dr. Rosario looked up. “President Harrison is satisfied that the vaccine works, even though it has not had any real world testing out in the field. The military will receive the vaccine first, making them the true test subjects Outside.” He grew quiet for a moment, and no one interrupted as he gathered his thoughts before continuing.
“My team has the ability to manufacture enough vaccine for everybody. It will take a few months for everyone in the country, and I am confident we could produce a sufficient quantity to safeguard everyone here at Mt. Weather within about ten days.” His face brightened. “Everyone including the prisoners on level ten. We just need to get it to them.”
Mathias, who had been standing uncharacteristically quietly at the edge of the room, finally spoke. “So, for the immediate future, nothing has changed for the prisoners. There is an inoculation, which they aren’t allowed to have. And worse, now the military can go Outside without chem-rad suits, giving them new freedom of movement and communication, without any of the constricting protective gear. They’ll be able to shoot escaping cleanup crew prisoners without even a peripheral vision blind spot.”
“And the prisoners will still die in Hot Zones,” added Maddox. “Harrison’s plan for exterminating them will move forward full force. This has to stop.” He leaned back against the wall where he was standing and tugged at his shirt collar, as if it had suddenly become too tight.
Isabella said, “But now people know what’s going on and they don’t like it, so maybe we won’t be alone in our fight to stop it. Some other group already vandalized the listening devices on four levels. We have allies.”
“Isabella is right,” said Teagan. She crossed her legs with the highest foot in the direction of Isabella and sat up straighter on the couch. “We’ve got public opinion on our side, something we’ve never had before. Now we just need to use it to our advantage. We don’t have much time. In a few days, Dr. Rosario’s team will have made enough V2 to inoculate the troops, right?”
The scientist nodded from his armchair.
“Can you stall that process at all?” asked Teagan.
The wizened scientist flashed a conspiratorial grin. “I’ll do my best.”
“We’ll also need Daphne’s help,” said Isabella. Unable to sit still she squirmed in her seat, bringing one leg under her butt, to sit taller on the soft couch. “She can get support from the soldiers who aren’t okay with this murderous scheme of Harrison’s.”
“You are talking a full-fledged armed rebellion, aren’t you?” asked Mathias, but his smile showed that he had already guessed the answer.
At 11:08 p.m., everyone was still there – still watching the news broadcasts – when the door chimed. Dr. Rosario let Daphne and Hayden in. Isabella wondered if it was chance that they arrived together. She knew Daphne’s shift ended at eleven and guessed that Hayden’s restaurant closed around ten, so the simultaneous appearance of her two new friends was possible in a theoretical sense. Isabella wondered how probable and pulled Daphne aside into the kitchen. “You want a soda?”
Daphne took off her military cap and shook her hair loose. A strand got stuck in the little blue earrings she always wore and the girl gently worked it free. “Sure. It’s been an extremely long day.”
Isabella handed the young soldier the drink then pointed with her chin to the living room, where Hayden had taken her own vacated spot on the couch, next to his sister Teagan. “You run into him on the way here?”
Daphne’s face flushed in embarrassment and she tried to suppress a smile. Isabella had never seen her blush. Daphne was always so self-assured, in charge, and on top of things. She knew how to handle the world, but mention of Hayden suddenly colored her cheeks pink like a summer rose. Daphne did not need to say a word for Isabella to know she liked Hayden.
“It’s fine, Daphne. Actually, it’s great. He’s a good guy, and I think he likes you too.”
Daphne’s pale skin erupted into even deeper rosiness, offsetting the freckles
on her round face. “Really?”
Isabella laughed at this tough soldier’s sudden shyness. “What, are you fourteen? Geez Daphne. You’re 21. What are you waiting for? Go after him. You need a boyfriend.” Before Daphne could respond, Isabella took her free hand and dragged her into the living room, where the loud group of people were still picking apart every bit of news about the fledgling rebellion, analyzing every action up and down, left, right, and sideways.
“Hey guys, I brought the key to this revolution,” announced Isabella before pumping her fist in the air and letting out a little whoop.
Daphne looked mortified. “What?”
Mathias, still very much the leader of their group, concurred. “We need you Daphne, and we need your friends. We have to get down to level ten and break out every single prisoner. Now, while the city is in turmoil.” The news broadcast was loud enough to cover up most of their conversation.
She replied, shaking her head. “You’ll be arrested, and my friends and I will be court martialed.”
“No, you won’t and we won’t,” replied Mathias. “Because we’ve got the public behind us now. People are pissed off at Harrison. Not only for his policies of surveillance, but also for how he misled them about the new humans. Harrison knows the difference between a mutant and an Eater, yet he perpetuates the story of cannibalism and mindlessness, allowing people to believe that mutants pose a threat to them Outside. New humans,” Mathias corrected himself and Isabella smiled briefly at that.
He continued. “People do not like to be duped. Folks are angry. Harrison and the entire government have made them look stupid – they’ve likely known the truth of what mutants are for decades: simply the descendants of those lucky enough to not die during the Final War.”
Isabella stood next to the young soldier and nodded, agreeing with Mathias but talking to Daphne. “Yes, he must know the difference between mutants and Eaters. Didn’t the military find Eaters in those five cities when they targeted them for clean-up and rebuilding? They must have been in at least some of them!” She thought back to the battle they had with the deadly gray monsters in Dover and suppressed an involuntary shudder.
Daphne nodded affirmation and agreed to be the liaison between the revolutionaries and the soldiers in the upcoming battle, for it would be a battle. She said, “Many of the troops will be loyal to the government no matter what. They’ll do their jobs like they’ve always done. We’ll be soldiers fighting other soldiers as enemies. Friends fighting friends.”
“Like the Civil War,” Luke said in almost a whisper.
* * *
August 30, 2101
Malcolm
His father stood above his bunk and put a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. The world turns and things happen, completely out of your control. All you can do is roll with the punches, and fight back where you can.
Malcolm woke abruptly, the dream of his father fading as his eyes snapped open and his ears caught the sound of footsteps nearing from far down the prison hallway. He jumped from the top bunk and landed as the cell door opened slowly. One lone soldier entered, the young woman, Private Reema Sura. No one else was awake yet and Malcolm intended to keep it that way. Let the other prisoners dream while they could.
Her dark eyes glowed in the half-light slipping in from the hallway. She spoke quietly, looking up to lock eyes with him. “Help is coming. Plans are underway. When the time comes, you will need to be ready. I’m not sure what is coming, or when, but if you get the chance to escape, run for it. Don’t look back, just go.”
He shook his head, sadly. “No. I will not leave anyone behind. We all go together. And I’ll be getting my girls from the other cell before I run anywhere.”
She replied quietly, again Malcolm thought it was more to keep her fellow soldiers from hearing than those in the cell. “I thought you would say that.” She took his four-fingered hand and squeezed it gently before slipping from the cell and closing the barred door behind her, as quietly as she had come.
Chapter Twenty-three
Isabella
Noeni was only one of dozens in custody for the “civil disobedience” at the greenhouse, and no one had yet identified the perpetrators of the power outage on levels one and two, or those responsible for destroying the listening devices around the city. There was no prison at Mt. Weather, unless you counted level ten, and no human had ever been incarcerated there. There was a small jail cell, rarely used, but that would only hold a handful of people. Instead, the protesters were locked up in the elementary school classrooms on level eight, and if Isabella and her friends were going to succeed in getting the new humans out of their prison, they would need help. A lot of help. They hoped that the protesters would put their anger to action if she and her new friends could free them.
They crowded into the lift together and Nuala said, “I’m sure my sister already has them ready to rip apart the government with their bare hands.” Her arms clasped behind her body and her legs in a wide stance, Nuala was the picture of confidence.
“Let’s hope,” said Teagan from behind Isabella in the elevator, echoing Isabella’s own concern that Nuala might be over-confident of her twin’s abilities.
The lift descended the three floors to level eight and the girls started toward the elementary school facility alone. Teagan, Nuala, and Isabella walked toward the front entrance to the school, which was still closed for the summer, but found their path blocked. People lined the avenue, shouting protests to anyone who would listen. “Free the greenhouse workers!” and “We won’t condone illegal imprisonment!” were among the shouts from the 100 or so mostly young protestors.
Isabella saw Mathias leading Luke, Roan, and Maddox behind the crowd, slowly working their way to the three guards at the front entrance. The crowd provided the distraction they needed and Nuala began their prepared plan when she was a couple yards from the guards. She shouted, “My sister is in there. I want to see her. I want to see my sister!” She was insistent in her outrage, not all of it an act, and soon became irate, and rising in decibels.
Teagan and Isabella joined her, adding to the volume. “We want to see the prisoners! Let us in! Let us in!”
In a flash of inspiration, Isabella began screaming at the top of her lungs, “Free the protestors! Free the protestors!” She thrust her clenched fist in the air and her body stiffened. Her play act had changed to genuine rage, and anger began to seep through her pores and escape via her words.
Others quickly took up her chant. Soon shouts broke out through the crowd, slowly growing into battle calls, rising in volume, filling the enclosed space like thunder filled the air during a storm Outside. These people had never heard thunder, but Isabella had. It was frightening and terrifying, and she grabbed on to the sound, seized it, and clung to it, her courage growing until it overwhelmed her. Today they would fight. They would make their stand, release the protestors, and then rescue the prisoners once and for all.
All three guards came forward slowly, their weapons still at their sides, but in the process of being raised. Another step forward, another, and two more. The noise grew, and the guards now pointed their weapons at the crowd.
Mathias, Luke, Roan, and Maddox slipped behind the guards and Mathias punched the code he had gotten that morning from his ROTC brother Lester into the locked front door. It clicked open and the four young men slipped inside while the guards were distracted. Isabella knew there would be more guards inside and said a silent prayer for their safety to a god she was not sure existed.
The three guards shouted for the crowd to disperse, angrily and somewhat nervously pointing their guns, but they were no match for 100 embittered citizens whose liberties had slowly and unnoticed eroded over the last decade of Harrison’s presidency.
One guard fired and a burst of electricity visibly shot from his weapon, stunning the closest protester, who dropped to the floor convulsing violently, but two people in the crowd pulled the weapon from the soldier’s grasp and disarmed him. The other t
wo guards found themselves quickly relieved of their stun guns, and while three people in the crowd were now nursing lingering sore muscles from ten seconds of muscle-contracting agony, they would recover. The stun guns transmitted electrical energy, which mimicked and overrode the electrical impulses controlling muscle function and produced overwhelming pain, but once it was cut off, it dissipated quickly. The three men with the seized stun guns in their hands raised them toward the ceiling in victory, gun in one hand and first in the other, to whoops of “Free the protestors!” from the crowd. Many people clenched their hands above their heads in a show of triumph.
The crowd surged into the school and Isabella was not sure what they would find inside, but expected the same as outside – stunned protestors, only this time it would be her brother and their friends lying on the floor. The front lobby was empty of both guards and her friends, and Isabella was propelled – actually physically pushed – further inside by the crowd surge behind her.
Rounding the corner into the elementary school’s gathering room, she was incredulous to find the few guards posted inside the makeshift detention area to be cutting off the plastic tie-strap cuffs from the wrists of the greenhouse workers, their stun guns firmly secured to their belts.
When the crowd surge stopped and Isabella finally found her feet, she landed almost next to Luke.
“What’s going on?” Isabella asked her brother. Teagan was at her side, but Nuala had already rushed forward to embrace her twin, who was no longer bound by the cuffs. Others from the crowd were finding their family and friends and hugs abounded around the room, along with cheers of victory and sobs of relief. The crowd had gone from near-violent protestors to grateful family members in the blink of an eye.
Luke replied, “Noeni is a persuasive woman. By the time we got inside, she had pretty much convinced the guards that this mass arrest was illegal and that while Harrison might have taken liberties with the Constitution, freedom of speech was still an unalienable right of the American public. The guards were ready to give in by the time we got here, so as much as the four of us would love to take credit, these folks have Noeni to thank for their freedom.”