by Matt Ward
The bison was great, but progress stalled. Before long, it was time to leave. I hadn’t gotten to talk to her. The enhancers stayed behind, something about a team meeting.
The weather was nice, a crisp sunny day and we were the first ones back. Odd, we were a minute late.
Man, I had to pee! I hurried to the bathroom while Obowe and Paer reviewed notes.
I was halfway through when the building shook, an earthquake tearing through the library. My feet shook as urine spilled everywhere, soaking my shoes. What the hell? Had an air amplifier blown? I squeaked to the door.
The center of the library—where we’d been not two hours earlier—was charred black, burns lining the marble floor and ceilings. Books and shelves flew, scattered across the floor and several small fires raged.
Was that a bomb? At the talks? Impossible. The library door burst open. Armed soldiers rushed in.
“Spread out!” A deep male voice yelled. “Make sure they don’t get away!”
Holy crap. My brain kicked into high gear. Someone assassinated Paer and Obowe. They’d meant to kill all the delegates and were here to finish the job. Run.
I slipped back into the bathroom. The windows above each of the stalls didn’t open.
Hopping onto the toilet, I slammed my fist through the glass. Shards flew as I ripped at broken pieces. Had they heard?
Hurry.
Once there was enough clearance, I leapt onto the stall walls, scurried through the jagged opening, and dropped to the pavement.
The coast was clear. Sprinting like my life depended on it, I weaved through empty winding streets and alleys, putting as much distance between myself and the library as possible.
After three blocks, it hit me. Yesterday… Iyanna had been trying to tell me. She’d known. How?
I sent a high priority message to the Council. It didn’t work. Lars or Zedda either. No signal.
Something was jamming comms. Had to be the military, or the DNS. No one else had that kind of tech.
I had to get back to headquarters—out of this dead zone at least—to warn the others. They’d united against us. The elites were still trying to ‘win.’ And Obowe and Paer were dead...
A news story flashed. I had a signal.
‘There’s been an unclaimed terrorist attack at the Subspecies Talks!’ a newscaster exclaimed. ‘Reports indicate a bomb exploded in the Library of Caen prior to afternoon sessions claiming the lives of animote leaders and known terrorists Raek Mekorian, Agtha Paer and Kamau Obowe. They seem to have arrived early. Luckily, no other representatives were harmed.’ He paused, shaking his head.
‘This loss is made all the more tragic as it was probably perpetrated by animote radicals unhappy with their more peace-minded leaders and again highlights the importance of the GDR to keep citizens safe. No doubt the talks will stall as animotes persist in violence, violating the ceasefire they themselves proposed. Perhaps rearchitecting our government and society to include such radicals is, at best, an iffy proposition. This is Gad Iaad from WNN signing off.’
Bullshit.
Despite everything, the GDR was shoving propaganda down people’s throats—anything to remain in power. Anything.
Lars called. ‘Raek, you there? You okay? We got your message.’
‘It’s a lie, all a big cover up!’ I said. ‘Paer and Obowe are dead. I was in the bathroom—’
‘Where are you?’
I transmitted my encrypted location. They’d be here in thirty minutes.
There was one thing going for me. The explosion would make it hard to identify bodies. The GDR—at least what was left of it—wouldn’t know I’d survived.
But who was calling the shots? That was the question. The Board wasn’t some all-powerful, unified force anymore. It had been pounded to its core and cracked under pressure. Someone or some group must be in charge, someone with enough power and influence to pull off an attack like this. But who?
A cruiser raced by, sirens blaring. The third so far.
I needed a disguise, to disappear. Passing a boarded up electronics shop and seedy VR cafe, I slipped into the first open door with clothes. The place was empty and I hit the men’s section.
Grabbing a gray sweatshirt, I snuck into the dressing cubicles. Perfect. I’d lie low and kill time, as long as they hadn’t tracked me...
But who’d organized the attack, and what should we do about it?
All the usual suspects came to mind. Calter? He had the military connections to make something like this happen, and plenty of reasons to hate me. The more I thought about it, the less it made sense. We’d been the only ones back. This must go deeper, it had to. Everyone knew to arrive late. They were all co-conspirators.
That terrified me. I was a salty steak and too many glasses of water from being confetti. This was an act of war, a stealthy, brilliant act of war designed for deniability.
But what was the point? We’d keep fighting and become a larger and larger majority. It didn’t make sense. It had short term appeal, but wasn’t sustainable. If anything, I was pushing for a more moderate, fair system for all. I’d gone on multiple streams and said…
No... That was it, it had to be.
The attacks weren’t meant for the animote leadership... they were meant for me.
65
Delivery
Zedda messaged me, We’ll be outside in two minutes. Hurry.
I crept out of the dressing room and through the store. The attendant was at the checkout, plugged into some gaming rig. Waving, I walked to the door.
A small white delivery van headed my way. I zoomed in. Zedda was at the wheel. It’d be so good to see her after all this.
Several scooters shot from an alley as the van neared, all six sporting dark helmets, visors and black studded jackets. That was the last thing we needed, more looting and a fight.
I held my breath as the van skidded to a stop. The first rider, a tall blond, hopped off his scooter, and leveled a blaster at Zedda. Others followed suit and cut off any potential escape.
Why’d it have to be Zedda? “You don’t want to do this,” I said in a low voice.
The blond glared. “This has nothing to do with you, kid.” Turning to Zedda, he said, “This doesn’t have to be hard, darling. We need the van.”
“Not going to happen!” I retorted.
“Six-to-one, maybe six-to-two.” The leader laughed and leveled his blaster. “It’s gonna happen.”
Zedda reached under the dash and the ringleader snapped, “Hold it, missy!” He motioned with his blaster at Zedda. Two riders inched forward, guns trained.
“Last chance,” I said, fighting to keep the fear from my voice. What if they hurt Zedda? The baby?
He laughed again.
I raised both hands, targeting the goons nearest Zedda and fired twice before anyone blinked. Twisting, I nailed the fat one with a headshot, dove and shot a fourth in the chest.
The two remaining gang members reacted, firing.
Zedda hit the fifth guy with the van. A loud crunch, and she reversed to be sure. I dropped the leader with a shot to the knees, but couldn’t bring myself to kill him. If I did, I’d be as bad as them.
“Get in the car!” Zedda yelled as he collapsed. The side door flew open. I jumped in as a red truck hurdled around the corner. Not good.
Zedda floored it and the old van exploded down the street, away from the approaching truck.
Lars was in the back seat. “You made it, kid. We were worried for a while there.”
“Worried?” Henk commented. “Zedda was more than a little—”
“Shut up, Henk!” Zedda replied, a happy flush to her face. She’d been crying. “Are you okay? You scared me.”
“I’m fine. But Paer and Obowe.” I swallowed. “They didn’t make it.” I explained what I’d realized.
When I finished, Lars said, “Makes sense. You’re the biggest threat to the political order, both as a rebel and a politician. Last thing they want is a free and
open election. You’d win in a landslide.”
“I don’t want that though!” I said. “They could have asked.” More blood on my hands...
“They saw you as a threat and wanted to neutralize you first.” Lars paused. “Plus, with you out of the way, if it did go back to war, the ‘rallying cry’ would be dead. Would kill morale.”
No one said anything and the enormity of the situation hit me. As we turned into the parking lot, a notification appeared. What if I just ignored it? I couldn’t.
‘This is Viktor Maelne reporting on the situation in Faelig where large numbers of armed cynetics are taking the city by force. It appears the deteriorating Subspecies Talks and violation of the ceasefire is leading some to take things into their own hands.’
The screen changed, images of dead tigerish and dying wolfish filling my view. ‘Animote forces in the city have responded, but seem to be fighting a losing battle. Will the violence spread to other cities and regions as peace slips away? This is Viktor Maelne —oh, wait! I’m getting updates within the last hour, similar conflicts have erupted in Hiazen and Taub. Things are heating up and we’ll have it all for you on the World News Network. Until next time.’
“Fighting started in Faelig, Hiazen, and Taub again,” I said. “They’re claiming we violated the truce. Faelig’s fallen and others may be on their way.” I let that sink in.
“If we don’t act now, we could be in trouble,” Lars said.
He was right. “But what about the talks, diplomacy?” We weren’t getting anywhere… I slammed the door harder than I’d intended, the window shattering.
“The time may have passed.” His face was set in a grim line. “If we wait too long, it could be unwinnable.” Damn it.
Five minutes later, what was left of us were assembled in the War Room. We’d been briefed, and, in short order, decided to denounce the claims while gearing up for war. We’d see how people reacted and respond accordingly.
Lars and I ran off to record another video.
Once that was done and uploaded, I collapsed onto the floor, glad for a moment to myself.
That lasted all of two seconds before the alarms sounded.
66
No Time To Waste
Sirens echoed through the halls as people flew everywhere. It was chaos.
I bumped into Drue. “What’s happening?”
“No idea!” he yelled. “I’ve never heard the alarms. I think we need to evacuate.”
“Are you sure? To where?”
He shook his head. “I have no idea.”
Zedda’s voice crackled over the air speaker. “ATTENTION, ATTENTION. OUR SPIES IN THE DNS ALERTED US: POLICE ARE INBOUND ON OUR LOCATION. WE HAVE TEN MINUTES MAX. DESTROY ANY CLASSIFIED DATA OR COMMS. GRAB ANY BELONGINGS OR WEAPONS YOU CAN CARRY OR CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT, AND GET OUT OF HERE. EMERGENCY ESCAPE PLANS BEING PROJECTED ONTO THE BUILDING AS WE SPEAK. FOLLOW THE HIGHLIGHTED PATHS.” The walls lit up as virtual screens appeared, identifying exits. Green arrows materialized at our feet.
“FOLLOW YOUR TEAM LEADER TO YOUR RESPECTIVE SAFE HOUSE. THERE SHOULD BE VEHICLES AND TRANSPORT FOR EVERYONE. GO.”
The place exploded into action. Despite everything, there was an order to the madness.
Someone yanked my sleeve. “Come on, kid!” Lars yelled over the roar. “We need to go. Forget your stuff.” Turning, he pulled me toward the illuminated exit.
“How did they—”
“Not now!” he yelled.
We slammed into a wall of people at the blinking exit. The door was too small and there weren’t enough vehicles outside.
I altered my voice to inhuman levels and shouted, “If you are waiting for a ride, wait outside! You’re holding up the rest of us! We’ll be trapped!”
The line shuffled forward and we made it through, but we were in trouble. It had been two minutes. If the DNS arrived early, or cars and VTOLs didn’t appear fast, we were sitting ducks in the slushy parking lot.
Two cars had been loaded since we’d made it outside, nowhere near enough. Thirty of us stood here, shaking.
“How many rendezvous points are there?” I asked the crowd.
“Three!” someone cried.
So, at least a hundred hadn’t escaped yet. It had been five minutes.
Lars grabbed my elbow and dragged me forward. “You can’t wait here, kid. We have to get you out first.”
First? “What? No!” I pushed him off me. “We need to get everyone—”
“No, Raek!” Lars barked, smacking me. “There isn’t time. We need you, more than me. More than anyone.”
I was about to protest when my SmartCore alerted me to sub-auditory sounds coming in, restoring normal hearing.
An electric whirr. My heart stopped. “VTOLs inbound. At least three of ‘em. Southeast.” I pointed but didn’t see anything yet.
A truck pulled up, three parked VTOLs on it. People piled in. Zedda’s head bobbed onto the steps, surrounded by bodies. Soon, the first two were full and took off.
When it was apparent we wouldn’t fit in the third, Lars raised his blaster and fired.
“I’m sorry!” he shouted. “Raek needs to be on that VTOL. He’s the best chance we have, the only one who can unite us, and possibly the other subspecies.”
Even as I resisted, people parted to let us pass. No… We got to the door and Lars pushed me aboard. I turned but he shoved me again. “Go, kid.”
“What? Aren’t you coming?” Everyone stared.
“It will be faster with less weight.” As he said it, others on the ship rose and climbed off.
“No!” I tried to stop them. Not them too. “Stay, it’ll be fine.”
They slipped past, smiling as they raised their fists. Only the pilot and I remained.
“All set?” he asked.
No! All these people...Where was the next VTOL?
Lars nodded, his eyes resolute.
Goosebumps wracked my icy skin as the VTOL took off.
The approaching craft were less than two minutes out from the sound of it. I peered out as we raced away, close to the ground to avoid detection. I had to be sure they got away.
A minute later, a massive explosion. Another, another. A dark cloud plumed over the buildings and treetops. No… they were early. The pilot dropped and landed in a small patch of pine. “It’s not safe to fly further,” he said. “They’ll have dozens of VTOLs en route. We might be spotted. This ship’s built for speed, not combat. We’re seven kilometers out. Should be good until nightfall and we’ll head to the safehouse.”
I stared at him, wordless. What could I say? “They all died, didn’t they?” He’d put me before him, sacrificed himself. Closing my eyes, tears came. “They all got off and died, all because of me.”
The pilot spun and ripped off his helmet. He must have been twenty-five, a strong furry jawline and the sinewy arms of a chimpish. Without a word, he lifted my chin and looked me in the eyes. “They didn’t die because of you, they died for you! They gave their lives for something bigger than themselves. I’d have done the same if you could’ve flown this thing. We hit nine hundred kilometers per hour in under a minute. That’s unheard of! A full load would be 400-600, tops. DNS will cordon off every square meter they can. With twelve people in this bird—heck, with a third of that—we wouldn’t have made it. Sure as sin, they’d find us. Yeah, they might of died, but they chose to and they’d do it again.” He gave me a sobering look. “Don’t let them down!”
I couldn’t help picturing Lars as the missiles struck, of all the time we’d spent together. And now, he was gone. Guilt stabbed my stomach. “Where do we go?”
He told me the plan while we covered the craft with camo fabric. I didn’t hear any of it, I was in shock. Once finished, we climbed in and talked a bit.
His name was Janek Liilisky, and he’d been with the Initiative three years, but this was his first real action. He’d had two brothers, Aleks and Iger, both pilots. Both died in Caen. At least his parents hadn’t live
d to see that, dying years earlier during a work inspection.
After a while, we fell into silence. He fell asleep, snoring, while I replayed things in my head. How’d they find us?
The delivery van, it had to be. The DNS pieced it together and traced the van to base. Jeez, we’d parked at base... We’d been in such a hurry, we’d forgotten protocol. I’d spared that bastard gang leader and he’d tipped them off.
My fault… More tears. Lars and everyone else, all dead, because of me.
Positive thoughts: what are you going to do about it?
I messaged Zedda and heard back at once. At least she was okay!
A third of our people had gotten out. Ganla too, but they weren’t sure about Mico or Lars. I told her Lars didn’t make it but couldn’t bring myself to say more.
The silver lining—if you could call it that—was the VTOLs had destroyed everything. In their rush, the DNS had squandered their one chance to dissect our networks. Calter would be furious.
And again, they didn’t know I’d survived. They weren’t learning from their mistakes. I filed that away for later.
When I awoke, we were flying low over the faded landscape. The sun had set hours ago, and ominous shadows blanketed the world, the occasional snowflake floating in the wind.
Janek must have noticed me. “Two minutes.”
We cleared the treeline and a small red barn rose in the distance. A minute later, we landed in front. Three solid guys pulled open sliding doors and Janek maneuvered forward, landing on pallets next to the other two craft.
Zedda was there, and I swallowed a pained gasp. I hadn’t realized how worried I’d been.
She ran, kicking snow, and threw her arms around me, kissing me hard. Once we separated, she turned to Janek and pecked him on the cheek. “Thanks for getting him out.”
Janek stiffened, blushing.
“Raek, come on.” Zedda pulled my hand. “There’s a lot going on.”
A rowdy crowd gathered in the dining room of the farmhouse, clustered around two rustic wooden tables. There were maps out, food everywhere, and a chaotic buzz of purpose. These people wanted revenge.