The Rebel

by Gerald Brandt

  He held up three fingers. “Three floors,” he said softly.

  I climbed, slowing down before I stuck my head up to look at the next floor. I didn’t hear any voices. At the third floor, I moved off to the side, waiting for Cecil to squeeze through the opening.

  “They’ve got a map at a junction about two hundred meters that way.” He pointed to what I thought was deeper into the city. “I’ll show you the route up.”

  The map was etched right into the composite. It looked like it had been painted over and then wiped clean, leaving the etching a different color than the surrounding wall.

  “Okay, we’re here.” Cecil pointed to the midpoint of the map. “My stash is over here. We’ll get there, and then take these ladders up seventeen floors. That’s where we’ll need to exit.”

  I counted the floors on the map. Seventeen up from the stash was where it ended. “Is there a map for above it?”

  “I have no idea. I think it’s only two or three floors though, so it shouldn’t be too tough to find our way.”

  “And you know where Ms. Peters’ office is?”

  “Nope.”

  “Will the guards know?”

  “They should, but it’ll be tough to get the information out of them. We’re right at the top of the city. If it’s anything like the bottom, the floors are fairly small. Some of the upper echelon may even have a floor to themselves for offices and a place to live.”

  “You said Ms. Peters was the highest-level person in the city?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “So chances are she’ll be on the top floor?”

  “It’s a good bet.”

  “Okay then, let’s move.”

  SOCAL SAT CITY 2—FRIDAY, JULY 7, 2141 12:52 P.M.

  We only had to backtrack once after hearing voices in the corridor ahead, moving to a tee section until they started fading again. I looked at Cecil and he nodded. We retraced our path and continued up.

  Sections of the corridor looked like they almost never got used. The areas we were walking through were dusty, but at least you could see footprints on the floor where tradespeople had used the corridor in the past. A couple of the offshoots had dust bunnies the size of my motorcycle in them.

  “What’s down these?” I asked.

  “Usually just shortcuts between corridors. Most people would rather walk outside than stay in these twisty things, though.”

  “You think we can get away with it?”

  “Walk outside? Maybe. You want to risk it?”

  I thought about it, wondering how many people we’d run into. “Not really.”

  “Me neither. Take a left here, then up one more floor.”

  I followed his directions, reaching a section of corridor that was darker than the rest. The light had gone out. It was probably on purpose. Cecil reached above and behind some ducts, pulling out a gray duffel bag.

  “Wouldn’t they see that when they fix the light?”

  “It blends in pretty well. Besides, maintenance corridor lights are low priority. Even more so if there’s nothing important near them. This is just a straight run. The last junction box was two lights back, and the next one is farther down. The chance of having this light replaced this year is pretty slim.”

  He reached into the bag, handing me the taser/stun gun combo. It was bigger than the old one I’d had. There was no way this would stick to the back of my jacket and go unnoticed, but it would fit in my pocket. My heartbeat picked up as I looked at it.

  “You okay?”

  I nodded.

  “You sure you want to go through with this?”

  “Yeah. If they have that kind of information on me, what else do they have? Maybe everyone who used to work for ACE has that kind of detail in their files.” If they did, that would make Pat and Kai vulnerable. It looked like Cecil finally realized that meant him as well.

  “Okay. Let’s go then.”

  We found the next closest ladder and started climbing. They went up three floors at the most before you had to walk a bit to get to the next one. I wasn’t sure why they had been built that way, but I didn’t much care either. It gave my arms a chance to rest before I had to go up another three floors.

  Partway there, my stomach growled loud enough to get a look from Cecil. “You got anything to eat?” I asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Shit.” I pushed through the hunger.

  The seventeenth floor came before I knew it. We followed the corridor to an exit close to where Cecil thought the security checkpoint was.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  “Nope.” I purposely changed my voice to sound like him. It earned me a small smile.

  “Act natural. We’ll chat and look at the pad as we walk up to them. No need to look them in the eye or anything. This is just another job we need to get done. Okay?”

  I sucked in a breath. “Okay.”

  Cecil pulled the latch and walked out, dust clinging to his shoes. The hallway was wide and carpeted, the composite walls covered in a fabric that softened the edges. Except for the constant background noise of the satellite itself, you would almost believe you weren’t in space.

  We passed an elevator and rounded a corner. The security desk was only a few steps away. I almost stopped, suddenly unsure of what I was doing.

  “I hope this ain’t another stupid glitch,” Cecil said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’m getting tired of running around and finding the problem has fixed itself.”

  Security stopped us. “Can we see your papers?” Cecil handed the pad over. I reached for my pocket, and the guard’s eyes followed the motion. I scratched my nose instead, and on the way down slipped my hand into the pocket over the taser. It helped stop the shaking I was sure they’d noticed. I didn’t grab it—he would have seen my fingers tightening around something.

  “You had anybody else up here chasing ghosts?” Cecil asked.

  The guard laughed while his partner watched. “More than I can count. I’ll check the order number against the computer.”

  “If the damn thing is working,” I said. I had both guards looking at me now. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. I pulled my hand from my pocket and scratched my nose again.

  “Everything’s been acting up. Even these stupid terminals.” The guard leaned over the keyboard and started typing in the numbers.

  That was our cue to move.

  I’d barely gotten my hand around the taser before Cecil launched over the desk, driving the guard’s face through the vid screen. The second guard reached for his shock stick and swung. He wasn’t aiming for me.

  The stick barely missed Cecil’s arm. The guard with his face through the vid screen shifted and mumbled. Damn, they were both still up. The shock stick made another swing, and when it reached its zenith, I lunged, driving the prongs of my stun gun into the guard’s neck. He dropped to his knees. I followed with a side kick to his throat, crushing his trachea. Cecil reached for the man by the vid screen, lifted his head, and smashed it back into the desk.

  The entire thing had taken ten seconds. Too long. Cecil grabbed the shock stick and we raced past the security station and entered the next maintenance door.

  “Somebody paid attention in class,” Cecil said.

  Damn right I did. I was shorter and smaller than anyone else. I had to be better.

  “We have fifteen minutes, tops. Less if someone happens to want up here.”

  We found a ladder and climbed. The exit door was right there. Cecil popped it open and stuck his head out.

  “Hey!” I heard a voice from inside the room.

  “Sorry, sir.” Cecil stepped out all the way. “I’m following a glitch and it led me here. Have you noticed the lights going on and off?”

  “Practically all day. The last guys up here couldn’t find an
ything.”

  “That’s why we’re here, sir. Trying to follow up, see what they missed.”

  “Ms. Peters will be back in ten minutes. You’ll be done and gone before then.”

  “That’s the plan,” Cecil said.

  I stepped out, my taser ready, and fired. The two prongs ejected and pierced the man’s shirt, embedding into his skin. When the shock entered his body, he couldn’t even scream. Cecil stepped forward, and when I let go of the trigger he swung the shock stick at the man’s head. The groaning stopped, and he lay still.

  I looked around. One wall was covered entirely in moss, and the sound of water trickling through it filled the room with a gentle background noise. The other walls were covered in wood. It looked and felt real. The room screamed of money.

  The furniture was comfortable, but showed this to be just a waiting area. If Ms. Peters had an office, it had to be close by. Cecil began walking the wall.

  “Hey, over here,” he whispered.

  He took another step and disappeared behind the moss. I jogged after him, entering a short hallway with a room at the end. The room was a simple white and gray with bookcases along the wall. I didn’t care about them. I cared about the desk with the terminal on it. I ran past Cecil and hit the keyboard.

  The image of a young boy appeared on the display. He couldn’t have been more than three years old. Did Ms. Peters have a son? I found that hard to believe. Overlaying the image was a plain white rectangle.

  Password locked.

  I guess I should have expected that. There was only one pad on the desk. I lifted it and the screen turned on, an image of my face plastered across the display. I showed it to Cecil.

  We spent a precious two minutes looking for anything else and came up empty handed. It was time to go. We ran back to the maintenance entrance and climbed back down to the bottom, entering the hallway where the guards were. The one Cecil had attacked was still down, but not out. He was slowly trying to reach the terminal. Cecil tromped on the guard’s back. As we ran past I grabbed the pad off the desk.

  We got back in the maintenance corridors.

  thirteen

  KADOKAWA SAT CITY 2—FRIDAY, JULY 7, 2141 1:15 P.M.

  SOMETHING WASN’T RIGHT.

  The report that came across Andrew’s desk said the strange disruptions on SoCal Sat City 2 had completely stopped. Again, no one could explain why, which wasn’t really unexpected, considering no one knew why they had started. SoCal 1 had followed shortly after, and both cities appeared to be stable. So far, it had lasted over an hour.

  It didn’t make any sense to him. The types of issues they had seen didn’t just disappear like that. Even though it saved him from a decision he didn’t want to make, he couldn’t help but wonder when the next barrage would start.

  As far as he knew, Natsumi was the only person who was talking of overthrowing Kadokawa’s leadership. What if it was just her, and she was fishing for more people to join? He sighed. That wasn’t the Natsumi Kadokawa he knew. She would have been quietly gathering forces around her for a long time, probably ever since the new president took control and assigned Sone to lead the military. He was looking for excuses. As she had said, looking for the supposedly easier road of orders and honor.

  A beep from his vid screen interrupted his thoughts. He touched a flashing icon in the lower right corner. “Yes?”

  “Sir, SoCal has sent another twelve ships to our front line.”

  Twelve was an odd number. “Is it a rotation of pilots?” Sitting in space took power as well, and the fighter craft either needed refueling or to return back to SoCal 2.

  “It doesn’t look that way.”

  “Get ready to launch another squadron. I’m on my way. And keep an eye on SoCal 1 and 2. This could be a diversion.” He closed the connection and rubbed his eyes. SoCal seemed prepared to push their standoff into an actual battle. His heart rate sped up as he left for Operations.

  The lights were dimmed when he walked in, and everyone was looking at their displays. As soon as the door closed behind him, Kaisa Mori approached.

  “The ships have lined up behind their existing line. Fairly spread out, but it increases their number above ours.”

  “The squadron is ready?”

  “Waiting for your command, sir.”

  Andrew leaned over the shoulder of a person he hadn’t met, looking at the heat signatures and patterns of the SoCal fighters. A dozen of them glowed hotter than the rest—the new arrivals. They had positioned themselves evenly, making the overall effect look like a waste of manpower. What were they planning?

  “When was SoCal’s last shift change?”

  “Only an hour ago sir.”

  That made it at least another four hours before replacements were supposed to come. The display glowed bright and the dozen ships powered away, back to SoCal 2. What the hell was going on?

  He stood, easing the kink that had developed in his back from bending over. Getting old was never fun. “Could this be another glitch in their systems?” If it was, it was a major step up from failing lights and environmental control.

  “I don’t know, sir.”

  “Of course you don’t—” Andrew interrupted himself. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice. “It was a rhetorical question. Pass the information on to intelligence. I want their opinion in fifteen minutes.”

  “Yes, sir.” Mori turned to go but changed his mind. “And our people ready to launch?”

  “Keep them at ready.” They wouldn’t like it, but that wasn’t his problem.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Mori strode across the room and talked to a young woman in the corner. She almost ran from the control room.

  Andrew paced back and forth behind the backs of those watching the monitors. “Bring SoCal 2 on the main screen.”

  The city filled the display.

  “Pull back a bit.”

  The city got smaller, finally looking like a globe floating in space. From here, it all looked so serene. There was no indication of the technology and computational power required to keep it stationary, to keep the nearly quarter of a million people living on it alive. The city was almost entirely self-sufficient, growing its own food, recycling all of its water. Despite that, shipments were still needed from Earth. Mainly in the form of fresh water and delicacies the upper echelon wanted.

  Without warning, half of SoCal 2 went dark. All the exterior lights had shut off on the Earth side, and the composite material reflected the planet’s light. Andrew’s chest tightened. This wasn’t over, then.

  Mori ran up. “It looks like it’s exterior lights only, sir. We have no indication of internal systems failing at this time.”

  Andrew nodded. The city was falling apart, and whatever had affected it was also having its way with SoCal 1. He paced furiously across the floor, more confident as the decision started to take a firm grip in his mind. He was about to disobey a direct order, and it would ruin his career.

  “Open a direct line to SoCal 2.”

  Mori hesitated before asking “To who?”

  “As high up the military ladder as we can get.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The connection was made and the room went absolutely quiet.

  “Rear Admiral Hamil’s office,” a voice answered.

  Damn. The best they could do was a secretary?

  “This is Kaishō-ho Andrew Ito from Kadokawa Sat City 2. I wish to speak to Admiral Hamil.”

  “One moment please.” The secretary was good. Andrew hadn’t heard the slightest waver in his voice. It would take them a minute or so to trace back the line.

  It took a minute and thirty-two seconds.

  “What can I do for you, Kaishō-ho?” The voice was gruff, but he had pronounced Kaishō-ho almost perfectly.

  “Admiral, your city seems to be having some issue
s. Kadokawa,” he paused. “I would like to extend an offer to help.”

  “We’re at war. What kind of help do you think we would accept?”

  Andrew took a step forward as if he could close the gap between them. His voice softened. “There is a time for fighting, and there is a time for helping. You have 250,000 people in your city, less the ones who have already evacuated. Let me do what we are known for. Let me help.”

  The pause on the link was longer than he’d expected. Maybe there was some hope for a peaceful ending to this after all. The response cut through the silence.

  “I’m sorry, Kaishō-ho Ito. I can’t allow that. Any movement toward us will be considered hostile.”

  “I am sorry to hear that.”

  “Me too, Kaishō-ho, me too.”

  The line went dead. Mori stared at Andrew. “What now?” he asked.

  “Now we wait. Again. I imagine we shall soon hear from Okinawa. I’ll be in my quarters waiting on the call. You will, no doubt, be placed in charge until they can find my replacement. Keep the squadron at ready for another hour. If nothing happens, let them get some rest.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As Andrew walked to the door, almost every person stood and bowed as he passed them.

  SOCAL SAT CITY 2—FRIDAY, JULY 7, 2141 1:22 P.M.

  The pad I’d taken from Ms. Peters’ office contained three files. I sat in the only chair in Cecil’s room, munching on a chocolate bar he’d had. Cecil sat on the edge of his bed, looking uncomfortable.

  One of the files was on me and contained everything Ms. Peters knew about me plus our conversation in the interrogation room. The other two were more interesting. One was on Bryson Searls and the other on Janice. I had some trouble deciding which one to look at first. I finally decided on Bryson since he was up here with me.

  His file was excruciatingly detailed, beginning with his university years. I skipped to the end. They had him holed up in a lab on the lower floors during the day, and in a secure living space a few floors above that at night.

  The next thing that caught my eye was what he had accomplished. The data Kai had decrypted was accurate. Being able to travel over vast distances in the blink of an eye. The first thought that entered my head was maybe we could find a place to live that we wouldn’t fuck up as bad as this one.