by Brandt Legg
“I’ll keep a feed open,” the Chief said. “I’m staying with this real-time.”
He ran. But it wasn’t like “normal” running. TreeRunners almost glide through the woods. From their earliest days in the clan, they are taught a meditation of survival until they develop a sensorial instinct. One of Grandyn’s first clan leaders told him, “You must run so quietly that the wind won’t even hear your steps.”
TreeRunners spend months in the forests learning to exist like an animal. Practice and repetition are used until their skills are honed to those of Indians and prehistoric people. Living without technology, without anything, TreeRunners acquire what their leaders refer to as the seventh sense: resourcefulness. By the time they are thirteen, all TreeRunners must build an entire cabin with nothing but their hands. The undertaking begins with a solo TreeRunner making stone tools, then using sticks, mud, leaves, peeled bark, and other natural materials until a one-room house complete with fireplace is constructed. They’re also experts in starting fires with sticks, and camouflage. A clan leader would say, “If the deer don’t fear you, you will have nothing to fear.”
And TreeRunners run . . . they run, fast and light.
Chapter 17 - Book 2
Blaise Cortez stared at his twenty-four lieutenants, seated around a large, round table constructed of a clear composite material which allowed the incredible array of electronics embedded inside to be visible. His inner circle consisted entirely of men, and he’d given them each a code name. Gawain, Lancelot, Percival, Galahad, Bors, Kay, Gareth, Bedivere, Lucan the Butler, Griflet, Yvain, Morholt, etc., all names of King Arthur’s Knights of the Round Table. Blaise, quite fond of the story, had, in spite of the ban, several hundred books dedicated to the legend, which he insisted was not mere myth.
“Gentlemen,” he began. “We seem to have lost a TreeRunner. And not just any TreeRunner, but a very important one.”
They all knew this. They knew about Grandyn Happerman. They knew about a great many things because the majority of them were Imps. The six that were not were something even more dangerous . . . “CHRUDEs” or Cloned Human Replacement Unit DesTIn Enabled.
CHRUDEs, although not invented by Blaise, certainly owed their existence to him, since the “brains” that controlled them were the most advanced DesTIn systems ever created. Equally impressive were the outerworks, so human-like that the CHRUDEs actually looked far more like people than Imps.
In order to get the skin perfect and maintain complete secrecy, Blaise had acquired longtime chemical maker, Dupont, which in 2102 had celebrated three hundred years since its founding as a gunpowder mill. But even more remarkable were the lengths Blaise had gone to give his CHRUDEs an authentic quality by installing a “bloodstream” just under the “skin,” so that any point in the body could bleed if cut. The bleeding could simply be stopped based on medical probabilities analyzed by the unit’s DesTIn. Eyes and tongues took years to get right, but were now flawless. CHRUDEs even breathed. Blaise designed, and was extremely proud of that system, which incorporated a fan used for cooling the unit’s electronics. Precise engineering made the CHRUDEs’ weight that of their human equivalents. While they were not capable of eating, they could take in liquid, which was stored, transformed to the appropriate color, and discharged normally at any later time – a detail to make sure that in any situation they would pass as human. All these features, as Blaise liked to say, “made CHRUDEs anything but crude.” By any measure, including body temperature, they would appear and act human.
Morholt, one of the CHRUDEs, spoke up. “If we are to locate Grandyn, we must enlist the help of the List Keepers,” he said, adding, “no pun intended.”
Blaise smiled. They were incredible. “More human than humans,” he had said often. In fact, they were superior due to their immunity to all illness, even death. The pun might not have indicated CHRUDEs’ superior intelligence, memory, and recall, but it showed the subtlety of the DesTIn systems. No one could tell the difference.
“But the List Keepers are intent on keeping Grandyn to themselves,” he answered.
Galahad, an Imp, interjected. “Of course they know of the prophecies?” he asked.
“Yes,” Blaise answered.
“Then we must assume they want Grandyn in order to gain access to the prophecies so that they will possess the determining knowledge.” Everyone knew the “determining knowledge” referred to the information allegedly contained in the prophecies that would show either side which steps to take needed to win. Blaise was about to counter his presumption when Galahad continued. “But this would mean that the List Keepers want to win the war, or care who wins the war, and that is not the case. I believe the List Keepers want to avoid conflict. They want the prophecies not to use them, but rather to make certain that no one else gets them.”
“Yes,” added Lucan the Butler, another Imp, “The List Keepers have, for so many decades, plodded along, trying to create the world they envision one pixel at a time.”
“They have a fear greater than losing a war,” Blaise said, and he believed this completely, but it troubled him more than anything else. Because for all his knowledge, the tremendous access he had to data of every type, and his loose alliances with every major party to the conflict, Blaise had no idea what the List Keepers feared. The organization was far more secretive than any he knew, including the A-Council that actually ran the world. “Anybody?”
All of his “knights” looked around to the others. No one had a theory as to why the List Keepers, who so diligently had been trying to defeat Aylantik since even before the Banoff, would risk letting them win when there had never been a more opportune time to end their reign. Blaise considered this one more reason to get Grandyn.
There were almost no lights in the room other then the considerable illumination coming off the table, and because Imps and CHRUDEs preferred cooler temperatures, it was also chilly. Blaise didn’t mind. Tekfabrik utilized his body’s natural thermal output to keep him warm, and he always wore an old-fashioned blazer.
“Grandyn is a TreeRunner,” Blaise began, “and yet it is not the TreeRunners who hide him. Sure, they make great sacrifices to try to protect him, but even they don’t know where he is.”
Bors, a CHRUDE, interrupted. “If he is important to the List Keepers, then we must readdress their black holes.”
Although among the power elites, it was generally assumed that the Imps could penetrate any INU and Field defense. However, there was one system they had yet to infiltrate. The List Keepers shields, dubbed “black holes,” were legendary among the Imp community. Every Imp, almost as a matter of unofficial initiation, had tackled and failed to get anything from the List Keepers. Their black holes were so incredible that they had earned their name due to the complete absences of even a presence. Many Imps were convinced the List Keepers were a myth.
The only proof of their existence was Blaise Cortez. He had confirmed to a certain few Imps beyond his knights that the List Keepers were real. It had been done only in an effort to find someone who could break through the black holes. Word filtered thorough the Imp world after Blaise promised incredible rewards to the Imp who could show him the way into their system.
“The best of us have spent light years searching for the way in,” Percival, an Imp, said. “Perhaps the List Keepers leave no footprints because they have no electronic or digital presence.”
There were some disgruntled noises around the table at such an outrageous theory. The List Keepers were, in fact, believed to be an INU-based organization, stealing, injecting, manipulating, and reviewing data as the ultimate weapon. Several knights spoke at once before Blaise waved his arm to silence them, deep in thought. It was almost a full minute before he spoke.
“Percival, perhaps I should change your name to Merlin.” Blaise smiled to the point of nearly laughing. “The List Keepers leave no footprints because they do not walk in the digital realm.”
Chapter 18 - Book 2
Ander Terik�
��s lean physique hunched tensely over the Grandyn Happerman file he’d obtained from Drast. His eyes darted at any sound, fearful that his AOI supervisors could somehow see what he was doing. But it didn’t matter; the revelations contained in Drast’s data went so far beyond the standard AOI Grandyn file that he couldn’t turn back. His sweaty fingers squeezed the sharp points of the AOI pin he always wore.
Drast hadn’t given him everything he needed, but it was still more than enough to shock him. Grandyn’s mother had been one of the leading pioneers of the revolution movement in the modern era. Terik knew that PAWN had been around in some form even before the Banoff, but the organization had operated in deep stealth mode for more than seventy-five years. Their actions of quiet, methodical base-building appeared almost as if they knew it would be seven decades after the Banoff war until their strength would grow enough, and the conditions would exist to try again. There had never, in human history, been such a patient revolution, and it had been a long, silent war.
Terik read the reports and realized that an open war, following such a muted period of dissent, would erupt horrendously loud. With massive damage and casualties likely on both sides, the revolution, regardless of the outcome, was sure to forever alter the peaceful utopia they had come to know. He watched, fascinated, as images and footage of Harper Happerman filled VMs around him.
Strange, he thought, her son never knew about her pivotal role in shaping the revolution that would define his life. Her claims that the Banoff had been intentional, although never made outside of PAWN, doomed her to an early death. There was stunning detail contained in Drast’s files. How could the AOI know of these accusations and yet no official denial or material refuting them had been made part of the record? Drast had asked himself.
Terik could see that the Grandyn file he’d been given when he was assigned to the case, the one he’d been adding to and working with all this time, was only about five percent of what Drast’s contained. He wondered if the AOI Chief, or even the current Pacyfik head, had all the data Drast did. After pondering that question, he decided they couldn’t possibly have everything he was looking at, but they certainly had a lot more than they gave the agents.
When he reached the end, a section that detailed the final days of Runit Happerman’s life and Grandyn’s arrest, Terik knew not even the AOI Chief could have access to those parts. It showed photos of books, and outlined Grandyn’s “escape” from AOI custody and his disappearance.
Now that Terik had all the facts of Grandyn’s life, he needed to decide what to do with it. He’d obtained the information illegally, which put his whole AOI career in jeopardy, and therefore his life was also at risk. In some ways, he had learned more than he wanted to know.
How important is it to advance in the AOI? The deeper I dig, the more there is to confuse me. The more layers and the more lies I find. But how trustworthy is Drast? His agenda might be bigger than everyone’s.
Drast’s file outlined clear links to Nelson Wright, and alluded to more connections with his sister, Chelle Andreas, Deuce Lipton, and Blaise Cortez, but much of it was a quagmire.
He needed to talk to Drast again, and this time he needed to convince him to give up everything. Drast could be executed at any moment. His data was too valuable to expire with him, yet it would if Terik couldn’t convince or bribe him. Terik could even use that data to propel his own career inside the AOI. He knew that Drast was a much smarter man than he was, but these were different times, and if the AOI survived the looming trouble, then Terik wanted to be a top gun in the agency. Drast’s files could help him achieve that.
His fingers fidgeting the VMs. He was lost in thought, his mind troubled that he wanted something he wasn’t sure he should, or could, have.
Terik also worried that in the meantime, the files, if he could get them all, might prove more dangerous than he could handle. But that was a risk he had to take. He had suspected for some time that Drast was still working with the rebels, but the files had made him sure of it. The question was how was he doing it?
Terik believed that getting information out of a super-maximum-security AOI locked-down prison was impossible. Guards were subjected to the strictest AOI background checks and monitoring. They were, like his buddy Osc, full-fledged AOI agents vying for better assignments. The Field was blocked at all AOI detention facilities, and there were daily searches for micro devices and weekly sweeps for nano level equipment.
How is Drast doing it? Terik wondered.
A few high ranking guards, in order to insure “Evren’s” safety, were aware of Drast’s true identity. Beyond that, only the top echelon of the AOI leadership even knew that Drast was alive.
Maybe ten people in the world know he’s here, Terik thought. Could one of them be an Aylantik traitor as well? If I can get to Chelle, I may find my answer.
Chapter 19 - Book 2
Grandyn considered his next move carefully. He’d nearly taken this step three times in the past, and on each occasion he’d deemed it too risky. But in these final days before the Exchange, the tension permeated the air and affected his every breath. He could no longer ignore one of his father’s final wishes.
Grandyn selected an invisible section of his INU. Twelve different “old-fashioned” passwords had to be entered just to reach the retina and fingerprint scan areas, and then he was FRIDGed, a Facial Recognition Identification Grid, and finally the INU placed the infinite-encrypted zoom.
On the other end, Deuce Lipton smiled as he saw the zoom come through. He’d been expecting this contact every day for the last thousand days.
“Grandyn, thank you for getting in touch,” Deuce said to the young man he’d never met but whom he knew so much about.
“Mr. Lipton, my father asked me to do this.”
“I know he did. Runit was a brave man. He changed the world. And please, it’s just Deuce.”
“It doesn’t feel like he changed anything.”
“Oh, never doubt it. Runit Happerman did change the world. The world just doesn’t realize it yet.”
“But the books?”
“They’ve survived. We don’t know their exact location yet, but we think we have most of them accounted for. I’ve been trying to bring them all together again since the Doneharvest began. The timing of your zoom is fortuitous, as I’m getting close. If all goes well, we’ll have Runit’s books brought back together within weeks.”
“So Nelson was right. The books have survived.” Grandyn knew he’d have to find a way to get to them. “Why did my dad think I could help with the books, and why did he want me to contact you?”
“I should think that would be obvious. You grew up with the books, and your dad told you what to look for. He knew I would have them. I promised him I would keep his books safe,” Deuce said, surrounded by stars, as usual. He’d been in his posh office reviewing satellite images and data from the outer planets. His passion for space was sometimes the only thing able to ease the stress of the deteriorating world situation. “We need your help.”
“That’s all fine if we’re not in the middle of a revolution and if I’m not one of the most wanted men on the planet,” Grandyn said. “You must employ plenty of smart people who could find what you’re looking for. Maybe even get a computer program to analyze the contents of all the books.”
“Grandyn, you know full well that we’re not looking for an ordinary passage here. Not some simple paragraph written by a normal author. These are codes, imbedded into the letter, the language of the books, even the construction of the physical object itself.”
“Doesn’t sound like a job for a TreeRunner who never even went to college.”
“One tree, ten thousand leaves. One trail, ten thousand paths. One runner, ten thousand followers.” Normally hearing Deuce recite the TreeRunners’ secret motto would have surprised Grandyn since it’s known only to members, but Nelson had tipped him off to Deuce’s TreeRunner past.
“Do you still run?”
“Most
ly a walker these days, but I don’t miss a chance to get into the forest whenever I can.”
“It’s different when you have to hide in them.”
“Does it take away some of the mystical nature of the trees?”
“No, not at all. It adds to it. I always loved the woods, but now that I am totally dependent on them I feel that it’s the only place I belong. There’s total trust in the trees. Sometimes . . . I know this sounds strange but, sometimes it’s like trees are more human than we are . . . Does that make sense?”
“Completely.”
“I don’t know if I can do what you need Deuce. Even if you can get all the books together, it’s eight books out of more than one hundred thousand.”
“It’s 112,804 and I’ve got 51,003 of them hidden on an island. Grandyn, I’ve had a team of experts searching for them, and they’ve been using every kind of tech I can find or invent, even DesTIn . . . but they’ve come up empty.”
“How long have they been on it?”
“A year and a half.”
“And you think I can do it? Even if I had some magic formula, I wouldn’t have the time. We’re about to go to war.”
“I know, but Grandyn, you’re the one. You can do this.”
“How can you be so sure? Just because my father said I could?”
“No, because my grandfather said you would.”
“Wasn’t your grandfather Booker Lipton?”
“Yes.”
“And isn’t he dead? I mean, long before I was born?”
“Yes. But Grandyn, he had access to things.”
“Prophecies?”
“Yes. You know about them?”
“Nelson told me.”
“My grandfather sent me a letter. Rather, he gave it to my uncle to give me on a certain date in this year. He mentions your father and you, by name. He said‒‒”