The Rebel

by Gerald Brandt

  “No. Stay with the old woman.”

  “There’s no point in that,” she said. “Kris jumped me. Took me by surprise and knocked me out cold. I doubt they’re still in the neighborhood. I wouldn’t be.”

  There was silence at the end of the link. Janice continued to walk away from the building.

  “Damn. Okay. I’m heading west. I’ll pick you up.”

  “Okay.”

  The link went dead and Janice tried to pick up her pace. The throbbing in her head kept time with her footsteps, but she struggled through it as best she could. It was better to be as far away from where she had hidden the stun gun as she could get. Ten minutes later, a black sedan slowed down and did a U-turn, pulling up beside her. It was John.

  “Get in.”

  She reached for the door handle, missing it on the first try, and slid into the passenger seat. There was no one in the back. “Where’s Manfred?” she asked.

  “Manfred’s dead. Christ, you look like shit.”

  “What? How did . . . when?”

  “I need to see your weapon.”

  “My stun gun?”

  “Hand it over.”

  Janice reached into her pocket and paused before frantically searching her other pockets. “It’s gone.”

  “Gone?”

  “Kris must have taken it after she attacked me. I’m pretty sure there wasn’t anything on the ground when I got up. Things are kind of fuzzy.” At least she was telling the truth about that.

  “She took your stun gun and left your comm unit?” Manfred continued, not giving her a chance to answer. “We’ll go take a look.”

  Janice’s heart plummeted. “Yeah, okay. It’s back that way a few blocks.”

  She made him turn off a block before the old woman’s apartment, finding another that was similar. “It was right here. I was standing here waiting for the old lady to come back out, and I was hit from behind.” Her hand reached up to the goose egg on the back of her head and she winced.

  John pushed her down in the seat and moved her hair. “That’s quite the lump. She got you front and back. Why didn’t she kill you?”

  Janice stayed quiet. John watched her face as he drove.

  “Where were you?” he asked.

  “Over there.” She pointed to a spot by the exterior wall of the building.

  “Not a great place to be waiting.”

  “I was moving to get a better position on the front door.”

  He didn’t respond. “Wait here. I’m going to look.” He got out of the car and wandered around the corner of the building. The doors locked behind him. When he came back, he wasn’t happy. “There’s no sign of a fight or blood.”

  “I . . . I can’t explain that. I was hit from behind.”

  “So you say.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You don’t think it’s weird that Manfred was killed with a stun gun and yours is missing? That you look like you were in the worst fight of your life and losing? That I can’t see any traces of a fight here?”

  Cold sunk into her chest. “Weird, yes. But if you’re asking if I killed him, then no. I’m pretty messed up. I need a doctor. Maybe I got the wrong building.”

  “We’ll see. Ms. Peters has some questions for you as well. Manfred was her favorite.”

  Janice leaned back in the seat. Shit. She tried to memorize every piece of the lie she had told. If she got something wrong, maybe she could use the hit on her head as an excuse.

  Every part of her hurt.

  LOS ANGELES LEVEL 4—THURSDAY, JULY 6, 2141 5:15 P.M.

  I carried Auntie as best I could. I didn’t want her to be anywhere near Janice when she came to. I should have killed the bitch instead of leaving her behind.

  The pain must have been close to unbearable for Auntie, but she took it without a sound. When we finally stopped, I lowered her to the ground and made her as comfortable as possible.

  “I need to get you to a doctor.”

  “I can’t afford one. A broken hip at my age is a death sentence down here. Especially if you’re not working.”

  “I know someone. I just need to get you there.” There were no cars in sight. “You wait here, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  She laughed, stopping with a burst of pain on her face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  I took off as fast as I could, wind whipping around my bare legs. Leaving Auntie alone on Level 2 wasn’t what I wanted to do, but I had no choice. I slowed once I rounded the corner, limping from Janice’s kick. I needed to find a vehicle. The older the better—it would be easier to hot-wire. It didn’t take long, not down here. The car was at the side of the road with the driver getting out. I waited until he was almost at the building before I took him out. One jab to the kidneys and he was down. I snatched the keys from his hand and unlocked his car.

  The driver struggled to his feet, and I suddenly felt guilty.

  “I need to borrow your car.”

  “No! You can’t.” He hobbled to the street as I closed the door.

  I yelled through the windshield, “You’ll get it back.”

  He was practically climbing on the hood by the time I’d unlocked the motor. I threw the car into reverse and tromped on the pedal.

  Even these old buckets had impressive torque. A side effect of being electric. The car cannoned backward, leaving its rightful owner lying on the ground again. I felt bad for the guy, but I didn’t have much choice.

  Turning in the middle of the road, I raced back to my aunt, breathing a sigh of relief when I found her where I’d left her. I helped her into the car and we sped away.

  “You said you didn’t have a car,” she said.

  “I don’t. I stole it.”

  She gave me a sideways glance. “You steal cars like it’s nothing. You fight like a demon. If I wasn’t there, you would have killed that girl. I don’t think I got the whole story back at the kitchen.”

  She must have been hurting. Her voice was strained but calm as she tried to fight her way through the pain.

  “You didn’t. And the guy will get his car back. At some point.”

  “What is it you’re not telling me, Kris?”

  “Lots.” I zipped up to Level 3, keeping my foot steady on the accelerator.

  “Are you going to tell me?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  She sighed, trying to keep the weight off her hip and failing. “You’ve gotten into the same nonsense your dad did, haven’t you?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “You know it’s what got them killed, don’t you?”

  I turned savagely down a street to the next ramp, hearing a sharp inhale from my aunt. “I know what got them killed.”

  “Do you?”

  “More than you know. Now let me drive, dammit.”

  I drove to an up-ramp, hoping to get to Doc’s Level 5 offices, but the checkpoint was shut down and completely blocked. There wasn’t any way to get up there.

  Shit.

  Now what was I supposed to do? I didn’t have my comm unit anymore, I’d destroyed it when I was picked up for the draft. I had no way to contact him. What I did have was his number memorized. All I needed was a comm unit.

  What the fuck. I’d already stolen a car tonight. What was a small mugging? I told my aunt to stay in the car and took off at a run. I didn’t want her to see what I was about to do.

  The first person I met was an older lady. She reminded me of the one who had given me a ride to the greenhouses not too long ago. I planned my angles and timing, hoping to push her into an alley as she walked past it. When the time came, I couldn’t do it.

  I drew in a shaky breath and straightened the damn dress. Stealing and mugging wasn’t who I was. It wasn’t the legacy I wanted to leave behind for my son.<
br />
  I walked across the street and approached the lady from the front. “I’m sorry to bother you, but—”

  The lady walked around me.

  I danced back in front of her, my body complaining in protest. “I just—”

  “I ain’t got no money,” she said. Her knuckles were white she was holding her purse so tight.

  “I’m not looking for money. I just need to make a quick call. My aunt is hurt, and I need to call her doctor.”

  The woman stopped, actually seeing me for the first time. “A likely story.” She still looked uncertain, but at least she’d stopped.

  “It’s true. You don’t even have to give me your comm unit. I can give you the number and you can call.”

  “I don’t think—”

  It was my turn to interrupt her. “Please. It’ll take less time than it did to talk to me.”

  She pondered the question for a while before finally nodding. “What’s the number?”

  I recited the one Doc Searls had me memorize. Surprise crossed her face when it was answered right away.

  “I have a girl here says you’re a doctor.” She listened for a while. “What’s your name, girl?”

  “Kris Merrill.” The name still felt uncomfortable when I said it.

  The woman repeated it and nodded. “He wants to know if you can get up to his office?”

  I shook my head no.

  “She says no.” The woman watched me as she listened to Doc’s reply. She closed the link. “He says to meet him at the Newman Street elevator. He has a friend with a clinic close to there.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You can thank me by telling me your doctor’s name. It takes me months to get an appointment, and they never come to me.”

  “He’s family,” I said. “We get special treatment.”

  “Figures.”

  I raced away, feeling her eyes boring into my back. I felt good. I had actually used my brains instead of forcing my way through something. I didn’t have to steal a phone from a poor defenseless old woman. I got back to the car and told Auntie we’d meet the doctor soon before I put the car into gear and accelerated to the elevator. She nodded and breathed through gritted teeth.

  We didn’t even have to wait fifteen minutes before the elevator doors opened. Doc hurried out and I saw three SoCal soldiers with rifles before they closed again.

  “I was just about to go through security to Level 6 when you called. They were just telling me to turn around. It seems I don’t have clearance to be up there anymore.” He looked at my aunt through the passenger window, “What’s the problem?”

  “I was attacked on Level 2. It was Janice, the same one who tried a couple of weeks ago.”

  My auntie kept looking at us. She didn’t say anything.

  “Okay. So what happened here?” He opened the back door of the car and eased into the seat.

  I noticed he didn’t ask where I got the car from.

  “She was knocked over pretty hard. Her hip is hurt.” He didn’t asked who she was. I was already in Doc’s debt. This was going to make the debt even bigger. I didn’t mind . . . he didn’t seem like the kind of guy that would force me to do something I wouldn’t want to.

  “Probably broken. Drive two blocks that way,” he pointed behind the car, “and turn right. It’s about half a kilometer to the clinic.”

  We pulled into a strip mall parking lot and I stopped just outside the clinic doors. Doc got out and unlocked them, coming back to help Auntie inside. He locked the door behind us.

  “Kris, could you get the gurney from the second room down the hall?”

  I did as I was asked, returning as he got her to shift closer to the edge of the examining table.

  “This’ll hurt a bit, but I promise it’s the last time we move you, okay?”

  She just nodded.

  “Okay. Kris, get her feet and move them to the gurney. Not too fast. Move at the same speed as her body.” He got an arm under her hips and one under her shoulders. “On the count of three. One, two, three.”

  We lifted and moved her over. A small whimper escaped before she held it in, her face turning red.

  “You can breathe now,” Doc Searls said. “The worst is over. We’ll get you X-rayed and fixed up in no time.” He wheeled her out of the room for the X-ray, coming back a few minutes later. When he pulled them up on his vid screen, it didn’t look good. “Definitely broken. In more than one place.” He turned to my aunt. “If it’s okay with you, I’m going to put you under before I fix it. If I don’t, it’s not going to be a comfortable experience.”

  She nodded again and he injected something in her arm. She was out in seconds.

  “That’ll hold her for a while. You’d better fill me in while I work on this.”

  I did, leaving nothing out.

  “And this woman, Janice, wants you dead why?” he asked.

  I shrugged.

  He nodded. “Let me finish up here. I’ll take a look at you and the baby. Then we need to talk.”

  LOS ANGELES LEVEL 4—THURSDAY, JULY 6, 2141 6:32 P.M.

  “Is this on or off the books?” Doc Searls asked.

  We’d left his examination room and stood in the hallway. He looked more tired than I’d ever seen him. “I don’t know. On the books, I guess.” I paused. “I’m not really part of the insurgents anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “They’re making choices for me they have no right to.”

  “The baby?”

  I nodded.

  “They care about you.”

  “Bullshit. If they cared, then they should have talked with me instead of about me. I should have been allowed to make my own choices.”

  “Ah, the age-old argument. You’re right, of course. Would you have made the same decision they forced on you?” He waited for an answer.

  “I don’t know.” My voice was soft and quiet.

  “Well, enough of that then. What’s done is done. Come into my office and tell me what you know about Bryson.”

  There wasn’t much to tell. I barely knew anyone I could get information from. Even Pat hadn’t gotten back to me with anything. I wasn’t about to mention the decrypted chip. It turned out I was really crappy at this part of my job. “Let me call Pat, see if she found anything out.” Doc Searls handed me his comm unit. I made the connection and waited.

  “Hey Doc.” She actually sounded chipper. I perched on the edge of the examination table.

  “It’s me.”

  “Kris? Where have you been? We were so worried. Are you okay? Why are you using Doc’s phone?”

  “Take a breath. I’m fine. I destroyed mine before the draft, remember? I’m calling to see if you found any information about Bryson.” There was silence on the link for a few seconds. “Hello?”

  “Yeah. Okay. I haven’t heard anything yet. I know ACE used to have a couple of people up there, but who knows if that’s still true. I wouldn’t even know how to contact them.”

  “Okay, thanks. I gotta go.”

  “Kris—”

  “I’ll call you back later.” I closed the link and handed the comm unit back. The second it was in his hand, it rang again. He read the display.

  “It’s Pat.”

  I shook my head. All she would do was quiz me on why I went to Doc Searls instead of back to her. It was a story I didn’t want to get into right now.

  “She’s worried. You know that. Don’t let your anger change who you are.”

  “You talk to her then. I’m going to check up on Auntie.” When I slid off the table the dress rode up my legs and I had to pull it down. I hated the damn thing. As I left the room, Doc Searls answered his phone.

  Auntie was still asleep. Here, on the gurney, she appeared even thinner and more frail than she had when I had run into her
on Level 2. Five years ago, she had been strong and capable. Living on Level 1 took a lot out of you, especially with someone like her husband. I could see what it had done to her in every line on her face.

  I took her hand and held it, brushing a stray length of gray hair away.

  There was a soft knock at the door and it opened.

  “What did you tell her?” I asked.

  “The truth,” Doc said. “It’s easier to remember. She says you need to head back down. Jack’s been asking questions.”

  “He can fuck off.”

  “O . . . okay.” He settled himself into a chair with a sigh. “Time to tell you what I know. There’s an old ACE team up there. I asked them to check if it was Bryson I was hearing about. They confirmed it.”

  So he didn’t really need me. So why ask me what I knew? “An ACE team? Do you trust them?”

  “Miller did. Most of them were people he trained when they first got into the field.”

  That was good enough for me.

  SOCAL SAT CITY 2—THURSDAY, JULY 6, 2141 6:30 P.M.

  Bryson poured over the test results from Ailsa. She had been even more thorough than he’d expected, and the test had taken all day. He hadn’t heard anything from Ms. Peters.

  He didn’t have to block out the background buzz of the lab—there wasn’t any. Everyone had eventually found out what she had been testing, and the results she had gotten. Now they were hovering at their stations, staring at Bryson’s back as he hunched over his stainless steel work area, instead of back in their rooms.

  There were slight variances in the final results, some of them indicative of incorrect data entry, though he had picked Ailsa for a reason. Her work was the most precise of anyone’s in the lab. His included. She never entered data from memory, even if it was the thousandth time she’d had to do it. She always cross-referenced from the original source. It was more likely that he had incorrectly input something during his tests.

  Besides the variations, both tests showed the same result: a ninety-nine percent reduction in harmful radiation and outside interference during the quantum jump. Slightly better than the results he had gotten before leaving Kadokawa.