Chase let his arms fall to his sides. “What’s going on, Mom?”
“The dissenters bombed that WR base.”
“I couldn’t stop that from happening, even if Amos did want to spare lives.”
“The problem is the dissenters are not the ones being blamed for the act.”
“Then who?” Chase asked. But he already knew. Data streamed in. “Stupid question.”
“We are,” Mel said. “Am I right?”
17
Chase led the way to the command center. His mother and Mel followed at his heels. Amos sat a computer station, his face red with anger.
“Look at this,” he shouted. “The news is reporting that the Underground Church, the very dangerous and violent militants who tried but failed to convert the world, have bombed a military base and killed hundreds of innocent soldiers and their families.”
“I know,” Chase said. “But it’s not true.” He sat next to Amos and sent a report from the exoself to the computer screen. “I’ve got intel on the base. It was evacuated prior to the blast. Apparently, my interference with WR systems yesterday alerted them to the dissenters’ plans to bomb the place. They got their soldiers out—all twenty-nine of them. Family housing didn’t exist there. It was two buildings. The onsite soldiers were doing nothing but inspecting and issuing personal flight packs.” Chase tapped the screen and then put his hand on Amos’s knee. “Nobody died. Not one person.”
“It’s a smear campaign,” Switchblade said.
Chase turned in the seat to find Switchblade in the gathering crowd. “Looks that way.”
“Well,” Amos said, seemingly over the rage he’d shown only a moment ago. “We’ve been maligned. Let us rejoice in persecution.”
“Rejoice?” Chase asked. “How about retaliate? How about we get the word out that the Underground Church isn’t made up of terrorists? Are you going to let them get away with this?”
“The Feds used the actions of one group to cast a shadow on another group. We don’t have to worry. God will work it out. The dissenters will probably take the focus off us. You know why? Because they’ll want the credit.”
“But…” There was no point in arguing. All this God talk wasn’t getting any less confusing. “Vengeance is mine and all that, right?”
“So, you do know a little of the scriptures.” Amos put his elbows on the desk and rubbed his face.
“My dad used to say it to me when I wanted to get back at somebody. He didn’t tell me it was from the Bible. I thought it was just something people like my dad said to keep their sons out of fights. But I think he knew more about the Bible than he let on. We just didn’t talk about it.” Chase glanced at his mother.
She shook her head then turned away and left the command center.
“The book of Romans. Don’t avenge yourselves—let God’s wrath take care of it,” Amos said. “I’m paraphrasing.”
“I wouldn’t know the difference,” Chase said. “And I don’t get it, so don’t waste your time trying to explain it.”
Amos gave him a solemn stare, and for the second time in less than a minute, Chase wanted to take back his words. “But I like the Psalms,” he said. “I read a lot of them when I was uncovering Mel’s code. They made me feel—I don’t know—rested. I loved listening to the leader in Atlanta read them.”
The tension released, and Amos nodded.
Chase breathed a sigh. He wasn’t just trying to make up for his stupid remark—he had enjoyed the Psalms. He’d find a Bible later and read them again, this time without an agenda, without looking for secret computer code. More than anything, he needed to rest his mind right now.
He pulled up news reports and discovered the bad press against the underground believers wasn’t limited to the one incident. The Los Angeles branch had been flushed out, their hideout in an abandoned warehouse district burned to the ground. Chase coded the four S’s and in no time found a leader in California reaching out for help.
“I’m sending instructions to someone called Watchman,” Chase said. “His group was discovered and they had to evacuate their hiding place. There’s an old mansion in Hollywood. The owner is listed in the system as a sympathizer. The believers can take shelter there.”
“How many are there?” Mel asked. “Were any of them caught when the Feds raided the place?”
“Seventy-two. They all escaped before the Feds torched the place. They got a warning,” Chase answered.
“What kind of warning?” Amos asked. “Who sent it?”
Chase stood and took a few steps, shaking his head. He spun around. “I did. I think.”
“You mean the exoself, don’t you?” Fear lit Mel’s eyes. “Boss, this is unbelievable. How can you send out a warning without knowing it?”
“You tell me.”
More Christians still functioning in society had been arrested and detained. Chase had their locations—he knew which detention centers had them.
“I can’t help the ones being detained,” he said. “How many times can I attach a bogus release code to a name? The Feds won’t believe it.” He pictured the machine that brought a bloodless death. Intel didn’t report the device had been used.
Why did the WR want to use that thing, as opposed to some other method? Obviously, it was clean. No mess, no handling blood. Efficient. But there had to be more. Chase went deeper into WR data.
“They’re going to use the brain tissue,” he said.
“What do you mean?” Amos asked. “Are they killing our people?”
“I don’t see any indication of it. Never mind. We’ll talk about it later.”
Amos didn’t ask any more questions but went back to his screen, reviewing data as Chase sent it to him. The group in L.A. was already on the move, headed for the mansion of a former film star.
“More believers will go under with all these arrests,” Chase said. “How many more can we house?”
“We’re filled to capacity,” Amos answered. “But there is another place a hundred miles from here. Well, you know that, don’t you?”
“I’ve already sent word to up-top supporters’ computer systems to direct people to an abandoned schoolhouse in Gagnon. I’ve got transports headed to five locations to pick up twenty-two people.”
Amos’s brows shot up. “I didn’t know there were that many believers left in this part Quebec. That’s wonderful, Chase.”
“There’s one who’s close by, and she’s in danger. She sent out an SOS. And I owe her, Amos. I think we should bring her in.”
“Of course, Chase. We’ll make room. Who is she?”
“Windsong.”
“The pilot who got you to New York?” Mel asked.
“Oh, dear,” Amos said. “It’ll be a loss to the organization to have a pilot come underground. Soon we may not have any help left up top. Get a message to her to come to the back door—the one you first entered. Teach her the knock. Someone will meet her.”
“Will do. Thank you, Amos.” Chase sent word to Windsong’s illegal and untraceable system and she quickly responded with gratitude. But she couldn’t wait until nightfall to sneak into town. She hoped she could get to the museum without being detected. If not, she wouldn’t come near the place.
Chase had already checked surveillance and didn’t see any reason she shouldn’t make her way to the museum. Intel reported the Feds thought they’d cleaned out the Christian element in Herouxville and they’d moved on. A plane had been confiscated at an airfield forty miles to the south after information was passed to the Feds that the pilot was transporting supplies for the underground. That explained why Windsong was on the run. But who leaked the info?
“Nice alias,” Switchblade said. “Sounds free as a bird. Too bad she’s gotta come under. But maybe the two of you will enjoy each other’s company, Charlie. What’s she like?”
Chase turned to find Switchblade sitting as close to Mel as he could get, his arm across the back of her chair. The guy wasn’t giving up.
&nbs
p; “She’s talented,” Chase said. “In the sense that she’ll add a lot to the underground. She knows how the WR functions, what they’re looking for. But you’re right—it’ll be a big change for her. She’s used to flying. Now she’ll be—”
“Surviving like the rest of us tunnel rats,” Switchblade said.
“She’ll have to bunk with someone,” Amos said.
“She can stay with me,” Mel said. “The room’s small but there’s an extra mattress under my bed. I don’t mind pulling it out and sleeping on the floor.”
“Thank you, Melody,” Amos said.
“Tell me about her, boss. Is she as pretty as her name?”
Chase kept his eyes on the screen. “Huh?”
“She asked if the girl is pretty, Charlie. So, is she?” Switchblade let out a snort.
“When I was running for my life, I didn’t take the time to notice,” Chase said. He glared at Switchblade. “So you’ll have to decide for yourself, Switch. I hope you like her.” He smiled. “Why don’t you go up and wait for her. She should be here within the hour.”
The big man rolled his eyes as he headed for the door. “I’ll tell her how excited you are to see her again.” He laughed as he swung open the door and went up the stairs.
“What on earth? Boss, what’s up with you two?” Mel asked.
“Nothing. I just think the guy needs to find himself a girlfriend. That’s all.”
18
Chase and Mel remained at the computer station to await Switchblade’s return. Amos had gone to his room to rest. Did the man sense the cancer overtaking him?
Before long, the door that led upward swung open and Windsong stepped into Blue Sky Field. Switchblade followed a good distance behind her. The woman’s tangled blond hair fell across her the shoulders of her soiled blue uniform.
“Hey, my favorite gameshow host.” She greeted Chase with a quick hug. “Thanks for taking me in.”
She smelled like the back corner of a barn. “I guess you got my message about the transport taking livestock north,” Chase said.
She laughed. “How can you tell? Look, we have a lot to talk about, but could I get a shower and some clean clothes first?”
“I’ll show you the way,” Mel said. “You’re going to bunk with me.” She held out her hand. “Melody Reese.”
Windsong shook her hand and the two headed toward the dorms. Switchblade dropped to a chair and scraped it across the floor as he pulled up to the work station.
Chase sat beside him. “Was she sure nobody followed her?”
“Couple of little goats was tagging along.”
“This is serious, man.”
“Nobody knows she’s here. Old farmer just wanted to get his produce to the slaughter house. He dropped her off on the highway.”
“I’m guessing she rode in the back with the animals.” Chase smiled.
“Almost didn’t let her in when I caught a whiff. But the mess didn’t hurt her none—she’s a good-looking woman.” Switchblade nudged Chase with his elbow. “Ain’t she, Charlie?”
“Not interested, Switch. You go for it.”
The big man grumbled and then laughed under his breath.
Amos returned from his rest and got an update on the new arrival and on what was happening with believers across the continent.
“Four branches of the underground have been forced to relocate today,” Chase told him. “Intel shows fifty-seven supporters were detained. But it looks like the day will end with almost everyone seeking asylum being taken in without incident.”
“So, we lost four of our bases,” Amos said. “And so many of those who helped us up top.”
“The Feds are coming at us,” Switchblade said. “Why?” He gawked at Chase as if he knew the answer.
Chase couldn’t argue. “I will go whenever you tell me to, Amos. You know they’re looking for me.”
Amos shifted his weight and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Chase, why are they looking for you all over the place? Did you feed them some more bad information?”
Chase met Amos’s stare. “Yes and no. By the hour the exoself seems more proficient in anticipating my next course of action. My systems have the Feds chasing rabbits. The intel says I’m here, then it says I’m there. And I’m the one who’s doing it. Only it’s not me.”
“Do you think the exoself has developed its own consciousness? Its own survival instinct?”
“It’s thinking for itself,” Switchblade said. “Is that what’s happening, Charlie?”
“I don’t know. I’m a transhuman, but I’m not a transhumanist—I didn’t design this stuff. I’ve reviewed data and read online books. The science is starting to make sense, but I might owe that to my recall enhancement. The other side of it, the philosophy, is as foreign to me as—”
“As Christianity?” Amos asked.
Chase nodded. “As any deep belief system. The pioneers of the transhumanist movement were zealots. And now the scientists, the government, the entertainment platforms, are all putting their faith in it. It’s not about curing disease and improving the quality of life anymore. It’s about living forever. It’s not that different from what you want, is it? It’s a religion. Only…”
“Only what, Chase?”
“It’s a godless religion. They are their own gods, and they want to live forever by their own existence. By their own power.” Chase pressed his fingertips into his temples. The sting of Switchblade’s blow was gone. Had the processors in his body boosted his capacity to heal? That wasn’t possible, was it?
It almost sounded justifiable—this new religion. A human being as proficient as a computer and just as durable. And Chase was the first to profit from its blessing. A man who didn’t follow transhumanism became a transhuman. A man who didn’t follow Christ became an honorary member of the Underground Church. Chase lowered his gaze and sighed.
“Godless, indeed,” Amos said. “And yet to be like God is what they desire. Chase, do you know the story of the tower of Babel?”
“No, I don’t think so.” He perused the exoself for information and found the old story. But not the scripture. “I’ve got it. People tried to build a city on their own laurels without acknowledging God’s dominion. But God confused their language and the tower was destroyed. He split up the smart guys, huh?”
Amos nodded. “Do you know why God did that?”
“I’ll tell you why,” Switchblade said. “Because God don’t got no competition. Ain’t nobody gonna bring Him down, and nobody’s gonna bring themselves up without Him.”
“Is God that easily threatened?” Chase asked.
“No. There is no threat,” Amos answered. “He wants to come down to us, to lift us up. But the tower was built, and the transhuman is built, as an act of rebellion.”
“What does that make me? A rebel? A tower to be knocked down?”
“You ain’t nothing but a rock at the base of that tower, Charlie. You didn’t put yourself there. Once the tower comes down, the rocks get cleaned up and used for something good.”
“Switchblade, that’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard come out your mouth,” Amos said.
Chase, as usual, found the whole thing baffling. He narrowed his eyes at Switchblade. “Thanks. I think.”
The conversation could have continued, giving Chase a chance to catch on to the things the exoself didn’t understand any better than its host. But Mel returned with the newest resident, who was cleaned up and dressed in jeans and gauzy white blouse, her long blond hair pulled into a ponytail.
Amos rose to his feet and faced her. “You must be Windsong. We owe you so much for all you’ve done up top. We’re grateful that you escaped today, but sorry for the loss of your plane and your services. You’ll stay with us now, for as long as we can manage down here.”
“Don’t think I’m unappreciative for your help in keeping me out of prison today, but I’m not staying. I’m getting my plane back,” she said. “And then I’ll go to the EU. I’ll paint the p
lane and change my alias, and I’ll continue my work for the Lord. That’s what He wants, and that’s what I’m going to do.”
Amos lifted his brows and shook his head. “I don’t see how, young lady. It seems an impossible task.”
“You’re looking at the water, sir, and not at the one who walked on it,” Windsong said.
“I suppose I am. Forgive my unbelief. What is your plan, young lady?”
“You’re going to help me,” she said to Chase. “I need somebody to change my life.” She smiled and slapped him on the back. “Let’s get to work, Chase Sterling.”
“I thought you and God had this worked out,” Chase said. “What do you want from me?”
“A little interference in choosing a location for my plane. You’re connected to the Feds, right? Have them send it to the nearest airstrip.”
“The nearest airstrip is covered with drones,” he told her. “I’m afraid that won’t work.”
“So send the drones somewhere else.”
“The more I interfere with the local entities, the greater my chances of being found,” Chase said. “Drones are manufactured and tested in the area. Hundreds of them would have to be relocated. I think somebody would notice that.”
“So what? Switchblade said you were making stuff happen all over the WR.” She grinned and bounced on her toes. “It’ll be fun. You’ll be right under their noses and they won’t even notice.”
“Sounds too risky,” Amos said. “We just got the Feds out of town. I don’t want to bring them back.”
“Wouldn’t it benefit all of you if the drones moved out of this area?” she asked. “Maybe you should wipe out the whole place.”
“What are you suggesting? We aren’t doing anything to add truth to the Feds’ lies about us. We aren’t terrorists.”
She blushed a little. “I didn’t mean you should blow it up or anything. Look, we’re in this together. There’s got to be a way to evacuate that drone plant for a few hours and get my plane to land there.”
“You seem in a hurry to leave us, Windsong,” Switchblade said. “I know Mr. Sterling was hoping you’d stick around.”
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