The Rebel

by Gerald Brandt

  That was a relief. It was my fault she’d been hurt in the first place. I should never have gone back to her apartment. The good news was that I hadn’t seen Janice since last night, and I’d been looking the entire drive up here. I was on a roll for apologizing, so I figured I’d better get one more out of the way.

  “I don’t think I ever apologized for not bringing Bryson back to you.” I thought I saw a flash of pain cross his face, quickly replaced with what looked like professional detachment. A skill every doctor needed.

  “You did. I know you did your best. It’s not your fault he took off like he did. Besides, you had a lot more to worry about.”

  “Thanks, Doc. You’ve been one of the stable points through all of this, you know? You fixed my tracker, you patched up my ribs. Now you took care of my aunt. I think I’ll owe you when this is done.” I didn’t mention the baby. I still hadn’t told Kai.

  He glanced past me at Pat and Kai. “I think so too.” When he looked back at me, he was more serious. “I think I know how you can balance the books. I know I’m asking for a lot, but right now you three are the only ones I know in the insurgents.”

  “Do not ask for what we cannot give,” said Kai.

  “I’m scared,” Doc said. “I’m scared I’ll never see my son again. Scared that I’ll never be able to tell him how proud I am. You know, we never really saw eye-to-eye. Instead of getting to know each other, we argued. Even when he was a boy, I spent so much time helping my patients, I missed out on getting to know him.”

  We stayed quiet, letting him finish.

  “I just want the opportunity to let him know that . . . that I’m proud. That I’m sorry. I . . . I don’t want to . . . With the war, where I am, where he is. I don’t want lose the chance to let him know.”

  “So what are you asking us to do?” Pat asked.

  “I . . . I want the insurgents to send someone up there. I want them to get him out and bring him down. If . . . If they do that for me, I’ll do whatever they want. I’ll bring whatever information I can from the higher levels down to them. I’ll be a courier or a spy or a killer, if that’s what they want from me.”

  The idea that had been forming in the back of my mind solidified, and it scared the shit out of me.

  “The insurgents don’t have the manpower or the connections to get someone up there,” said Pat. “Hell, they barely get information from above Level 5, never mind people. I don’t think they can do what you’re asking.”

  “That doesn’t matter.” Doc paused, looking between us as if he was still trying to figure something out. “I’ve been in touch with some of the people I knew from ACE. At first, it was just to help Kai get me in with the insurgents, but after a while, I realized why I wanted to join them. My son is the only thing that matters to me. The only thing I have left since his mother passed. They can help.”

  “If they can get an insurgent through, why can’t they do it for you?” I asked.

  “I asked them that. They say it’s too dangerous. They want someone that’s been trained to deal with anything that might come up. Look at me,” Doc said. “I’m old and slow. If I went up there and something went wrong, I’d be useless.”

  He sighed and slumped against the wall. It was the first time I’d seen him drained and tired. Old. My heart felt heavy. Is this how my dad would have felt if he’d been shoved into this situation? Would he have done anything to find me, to get to me? I wanted—needed—to believe he would.

  Pat stepped closer, placing her hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know what the insurgents can do.”

  “They need better access to the upper levels. We will ask them,” said Kai.

  “That’s all I can ask for.” Doc Searls nodded, quickly turning toward the examination rooms to hide the tears that had started forming in his eyes. “I’ll check on your aunt.”

  Even the professional detachment couldn’t hide the shakiness of his voice. When he was gone, I pulled Kai and Pat toward the front door.

  “I need to stay with my aunt. Jack wouldn’t listen to me anyway. You have a better chance. Why don’t you head back?”

  “You’ll stay here?”

  “I’ve got nowhere else to go.”

  They looked at me as though they were trying to read my mind before they nodded and opened the outside door.

  I followed them into the parking lot. “He can’t get to Level 6 anymore. What are the chances Jack is going to help?” I was pretty sure I knew what the answer was.

  Kai shuffled forward. “It is not good. If he was asking ACE instead, there would be no hesitation. They owed him a lot. Jack does not.”

  “I don’t think it would matter,” said Pat. “The man’s an ass.”

  Kai just nodded.

  eleven

  KADOKAWA SAT CITY 2—FRIDAY, JULY 7, 2141 9:00 A.M.

  THE VID SCREEN on Andrew’s desk flashed again. This was the second time in an hour SoCal’s navigational beacon had gone quiet. This wasn’t on SoCal 2. It had had issues for most of last night and the early morning, but from what the Kadokawa sensors could pick up, things were stable now. The failing navigational beacon was on SoCal 1.

  What was happening wasn’t normal. Sure, every satellite had issues once in a while, but not of this magnitude or for this length of time. The fact that the failures were moving between the two cities was strange as well. He’d finally gotten a message from one of his moles on SoCal Sat City 1, and the report hadn’t helped clear up the situation. Apparently, life support on the flight decks had shut down for twenty minutes, and the executive offices had reached almost thirty degrees Celsius before coming back under control. Those were the big ones. Not too many people knew of the minor power surge that blew out the lights in engineering, or the spoiled food from when a freezer lost power long enough to get warm without its sensors throwing a warning.

  Those who did know were trying to find the fastest way back to Earth. It had gotten so bad that extra security was put in place to keep the crowds away from the shuttle ports. If things kept going the way they were, SoCal would have a mass panic on their hands.

  Both cities were having massive systemwide failures. That was never good when you were 36,000 kilometers out in space. How long would it be before major systems failed in large public places?

  He touched a button on the screen.

  “Hai, Kaishō-ho.”

  “Get me Kaishō Aiko.” He closed the link before he got a reply.

  Something was going on, and SoCal was in trouble. Kaishō Aiko was responsible for the near-Earth military zone, and the only one that could give Andrew permission to do what he wanted. His comm unit rang. He grabbed it off his desk.

  “Sir, Kaishō Aiko for you.”

  “Thank you.” The background tone of the call changed. “Kaishō Aiko?”

  “The Kaishō is very busy, Kaishō-ho Ito. Perhaps you can leave a message. I will be sure he gets it.”

  “The matter is quite urgent. If I could speak with—”

  “That will not be possible.”

  Andrew stayed quiet a little longer than courtesy allowed before speaking again. “I have sent in my reports about SoCal 2. Similar events are now happening on SoCal 1. I would like to offer assistance. They appear to be in trouble, and I don’t believe they have enough shuttles to do a full evacuation . . . should the need arise.” He still wasn’t sure he was making the right choice, but at least it felt right.

  “We are at war with SoCal.”

  “But not with all the people in the cities. We have never failed to offer aid when needed—even to those Kadokawa considered its greatest rivals.”

  “We are no longer the same corporation. Being a rival is different than being an enemy, Kaishō-ho.”

  “Not to those who need our help.”

  “I will pass your request on to Kaishō Aiko, as you asked.”


  “Time may be critical. The incidents aboard both satellites appear to be increasing.”

  “I will pass along your request.”

  Andrew held back the retort forming on his lips. “Thank you.”

  The link went dead, the distinctive background sound of a call from orbit replaced with silence. Kadokawa had never refused aid to anyone. True, SoCal hadn’t requested any, but something was obviously failing aboard the cities, and it wasn’t minor. Whatever it was seemed to be affecting almost every system.

  A career built on offering aid to those who needed it, and now his hands were tied by greed. It wasn’t right. Andrew was trapped between his and Natsumi’s view of Kadokawa and the one his superiors had changed it to. He couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was wrong.

  The message light on his vid screen lit up. Andrew touched it, already afraid of what he would see.

  The message was from Kaishō Aiko.

  No help is to be offered to SoCal at any time, under any circumstances.

  His finger hesitated over the screen again, hovering over a contact list. He slowed his breathing before pushing firmly over the name Natsumi Kadokawa.

  “Moshi moshi.”

  “Sorry to bother you at home.”

  “Andrew! It is nice to hear your voice. Let me call you back on your direct line.”

  “Of course.”

  Thirty seconds later, his comm unit rang. The blinking red circle in the top right corner of the screen indicating a bidirectional encrypted link.

  “Hello.”

  “Ah, Andrew. You have been away too long, you even answer a call like a foreigner now.”

  “It has been long.”

  “But you did not call me to talk about the little things, have you?”

  “I have not.” He repeated the contents of his call to Kaishō Aiko.

  “Yes, Aiko is one of Sone’s placements,” she said. “Has been for many years, before Sone was made Kaijō-bakuryōchō. Aiko joined only ten years ago, and was quickly promoted.”

  “What am I to do? My heart tells me I must help, yet my superior tells me I cannot.”

  Her voice got softer. “You have always had a difficult time following your heart, Andrew. Often choosing the easier path of honor and orders. Perhaps it is time to let your heart decide?”

  “I don’t know if I can.” He knew it wasn’t always the easier decision, as she had stated.

  “Neither do I. Did you call me so that I could make the decision for you? That is something I cannot do. Not for you, and not for this. As in your past, there are choices only you can make.”

  “Natsumi, I—” He didn’t know what to say.

  “I will honor your choice, Andrew. I always have. I only pray it will not tear us further apart. I need to go.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For being my Natsumi. Even after all these years.”

  “I could not be anything else. Goodbye, Andrew.”

  For the second time that morning, he listened to the silence of a dead line. He closed the link and wiped at his eyes.

  LOS ANGELES LEVEL 4—WEDNESDAY, JULY 7, 2141 9:14 A.M.

  I watched them drive away, placing a hand on the door handle to the clinic to make it look like I was going back inside. What I really needed was time to think, and what I was thinking about was fucking crazy.

  As soon as the car was out of sight, I left the clinic, taking the first corner to get off the main strip. I kept looking over my shoulder, feeling Pat’s eyes burning a hole between my shoulder blades, right where my scar used to be. She was never there.

  What I was feeling was guilt, and I knew why. Pat wasn’t my partner on a mission anymore, but the feeling I had was the same. I was thinking about leaving her behind, and I didn’t like it. I’d promised her I would never do it again, but I knew she wouldn’t let me go. I tried to rationalize the danger I was putting myself—my unborn son—into by going to SoCal 2. By asking what was more important: the two of us, or the man that could change how the entire game was played?

  But I knew it was so much more than that.

  I tried to use logic. Kai had told me about the quantum drive, about what it could do. I knew Bryson was the one behind it, either building or designing the damn thing. If SoCal or any other corporation got their hands on working technology like that, it would be the end of everything. How long would it be before one of them controlled the world? Before they destroyed all the competition?

  Long enough to kill too many people. To break too many families apart.

  That’s what it all boiled down to. Family. I had lost mine. Twice. Once when my parents had been killed, and again when Meridian had taken Ian. My hand rubbed my belly as I walked, almost feeling the life growing inside of me. I finally had family again; my aunt, Kai and Pat. My son. I had been given another chance, but what did it matter if there wasn’t a world to bring him up in? If all he could be in life was a slave to a massive corporation—or worse—would that be any life at all?

  I slowed my pace looking for a place to sit, suddenly exhausted. I’d wandered into a more residential neighborhood, instinctively wanting somewhere quieter where I could do my thinking alone. I breathed deep, hoping to capture the faint scent from the grass covering some of the tiny front lawns. I didn’t even get a hint. This place was pretty upscale for Level 4, but not that upscale. Most the lawns were either painted fibercrete or fake grass. I turned to walk back to the main street I’d left behind, remembering one of the office buildings had a bench.

  A body hurtled toward me. I sidestepped, half expecting to see Janice, and they rushed past. If I hadn’t turned, they would have plowed straight into me. I’d been so deep in my own world, I’d forgotten about surveillance. I glanced toward the main street and noticed more people running my way. They were leaving the main street like cockroaches on Level 2 left a burning building. It didn’t take too long before I saw why. Figures in mottled gray clothing chased them.

  Another SoCal sweep.

  I had two choices. I could run with the rest of them, or wait and use my age and pregnancy as a way to get out. The decision took only a split second. Maybe it was more instinct than choice. I ran, ducking into a back yard, leaving the others to run down the street.

  The yard was small, and only one of the neighbors had a short fence. I took it, scrambling over the meter-tall structure into a well-tended garden. It wasn’t just flowers, but potatoes and carrots and lettuce growing in aboveground boxes.

  Shouts from the front street kept me moving. My pulse raced and I ran. If the soldiers were following the running people, maybe my best bet was to go in the opposite direction. I climbed the next fence onto another fibercrete pad painted dark green. A small shed took up a quarter of the space. I ran to it, pulling at the door. The damn thing didn’t budge. I kept on running, this time angling toward the yard that faced the next street.

  These houses didn’t have fences. Instead, yellow lines marked the yard boundaries, indicating what part of the Level 4 floor came with the house. I slid down beside a set of back stairs and crawled to the corner. Squeezing my eyes shut and holding my breath, I cracked them open enough to peer around the edge of the house. I lay low, keeping my head as close to the fibercrete ground as I could. Through the space between the houses, I saw a couple of people lying on the ground, soldiers holding them in place while more soldiers continued to run past.

  I had no place to go. Sweat pooled in the small of my back and my breathing was short and shallow. A shout from behind me made me spin around. Nothing was there.

  A dozen options ran through my head. None of them good. In the end, I decided the shed was my best bet. If I could get inside and lock it behind me . . . I sprinted back to it, already winded from the short burst of speed I’d used. A quick look showed the thing had no windows. I went back to th
e door. The lock was a simple key system. If I had time I could have opened it.

  I switched gears and sprinted back to the yard with the fence. The gardens were all aboveground boxes filled with synthetic soil and water drip feeders, just like the greenhouses. The plants looked like they could use some more moisture.

  Using the edge of the box as a footstep, I leaned over the garden until I could use the fence as balance. The boxes didn’t touch it. The gap was small. Too small for me to fit. I followed the fence around the corner to the back until I reached some plants that were tall and thick with large leaves. Hopefully it would be enough to hide me. I slid down the fence and jammed myself as far into the gap as I could. Only my lower leg and arm fit. It was the best I could do. I tried to slow my breathing so I wouldn’t be heard and peered through the tall plants.

  More shouting came from the street. The soldiers were checking yards. The door on the shed rattled. Through the leaves, I saw feet stepping into the flowerbed. They would see the damage I did when I jumped the fence. Maybe they’d think it was from someone leaving the yard. I heard a comm unit.

  We’ve got quota.

  The soldiers in the yard immediately started talking, obviously more relaxed.

  “I hate chasing ’em down.”

  “Yeah. This was better than yesterday though. I don’t know who picked the area, but almost no one was there. Somewhere on Level 3. We ended up chasing the bastards for blocks.”

  “What a pain in the ass.”

  “Yeah. They paid for it though. No one gets rejected for having a few extra bruises.”

  The return laughter got quieter as the soldiers left the yard. They were as mean as the rest of the corporation.

  San Angeles was turning to shit, and if it was so easy for SoCal to do this to us now, how easy would it be for them to do this to this rest of the world? Once they had the quantum jump drive, there wouldn’t be anything that could stand in their way. But there was something now.