Free Wánměi was one thing. But I’d realised something, holding on to Lena, feeling her pain through the touch of skin on skin. Lena wasn’t prepared to stop at freeing just Wánměi.
Lena wanted to free the world.
“OK,” she whispered back.
“OK,” I repeated.
OK. We had a plan. One that we were both involved in. Fuck, I hoped this worked.
‘Cause there was something about Lunnon that called to us. Always had done. I suspected it always would. Lunnon was the promise.
The promise of freedom.
The promise of more than what we’d known.
The promise of the future.
Whether or not it was any of those things depended on the Lunnoners. Depended on what we uncovered before Cal said we had to leave.
The Wiped were waiting.
Urip hung suspended above our heads like a dark cloud.
You just had to ask yourself, what would Lunnon be?
Four
His Back Was To Me
Lena
This was not how it was meant to go. They shouldn’t have been expecting us. And we sure as hell shouldn’t have killed them all. It’s not what Calvin and I had planned. It would make convincing the others that much harder.
Who were these Lunnoners? Why had they fought so hard, as though death was a better option than capture?
All I’d wanted was a chance. The element of surprise before we’d been detected. All I’d wanted was an in. A way to convince the Urip vanguard that the world could be better. Perhaps I was naive as Alan had suggested. Perhaps I was unpredictable as Cardinal Beck had hinted at.
Perhaps I’d blown my one chance to convince the rebels, to convince Trent, that we had to change.
Rescuing the Wiped had always been the goal. When Urip had failed to respond to our threats and demands, the only course of action left to us was to infiltrate enemy lines and save them. But saving them would not change things. Would not mend the cracked divide of earth’s remaining population.
Urip would retaliate. Merrika would fight back. Wánměi would be caught in the middle.
Or maybe not. I considered talking to Tan. Despite his reluctance, he was in charge of our nation. But Tan had lost so much to Chew-wen. Had lost so much to Shiloh. I couldn’t see him bridging any gaps.
My father had been next, but try as I might, I couldn’t relate to him. I didn’t understand him anymore. He was not the man who had left Wánměi. Left his daughter. Like Irdina, he was more Merrikan than Anglisc. More soldier than Overseer. And I wasn’t sure I could see the Citizen in him at all.
It was clear he was in charge of the soldiers who accompanied us. Which made them all think he was in charge of this mission. They knew so much more than us. They knew about where survivors eked out an existence in what was left of our broken world. Which made me realise they’d known about those Lunnoners who insisted on remaining in a toxic wasteland, rather than embracing Urip.
Urip was the one settlement left in this part of the world who posed a threat, my father had said. The one settlement with technology available to upset the balance. But those Lunnoners had laser guns. They’d fought with them as though they’d been an extension of themselves. They’d known the instant we’d landed on their shore.
There was more going on here than we realised, and I’d shown our hand. I’d revealed too much.
And I didn’t have Trent to fall back on.
I glanced over to where he was talking quietly with Simon and Alan. Alan’s gaze was constantly flicking up toward Irdina, but I couldn’t be sure if that was caution I saw in his hard features, or intrigue. Did he question their allegiance too?
Simon was head down over his tablet computer, attempting to isolate Calvin. They wouldn’t be able to. Calvin had been created for me and me alone. The message my father had left me when he’d made first contact had been an indication that he’d not trusted any one else on Wánměi soil. Voice activated, aligned to me alone. Just like his doctored Shiloh.
The revised Shiloh. Shiloh Mark III.
Calvin was all mine, just the way my father had planned it. Trent couldn’t override it. Simon couldn’t crack it. The only person with the ability to control it other than me was dear old Dad.
I watched as Trent and Simon came to that conclusion together. Trent’s brows furrowed, his troubled eyes lifting and locating my father sitting in his wheelchair. His lips pressed into a thin line.
I smiled to myself, but the victory was hollow. Calvin may respond to me and not the rebels, but that did not mean he was all mine. My own eyes settled on the broken form of my father, lingered on the stump that once was a functioning leg.
He’d trusted no other on Wánměi soil, but that did not mean I should trust him in return.
Was Calvin a way to manipulate me?
I let a long sigh out. I needed an ally. Logic told me it should be Trent.
Trent wasn’t having a bar of it.
I’d hurt him. I knew that. By keeping him out of the planned ambush, I’d allowed him to believe I didn’t trust him. I’d taken us back to those first few weeks of getting to know each other, where trust was being earned and our hearts were just starting to open.
I’d shattered it all in one fell swoop.
This was not how it was meant to go.
Once the attack had been contained, and the vanguard caught and questioned, he would have seen the logic behind my plan. We might save the Wiped. We might even get out with most of our lives unharmed. But the future would be a blood bath. The only way to end this, to right this, was to change.
Us. Them. Everyone. Including the vanguard.
I hadn’t thought it would be easy. But if they saw who we were and how we behaved, they’d have realised their superiors had lied to them. We weren’t the enemy. Their highly controlled society with its subjugation and strict rules was.
Urip was Old Wánměi on steroids.
And we needed that vanguard. My father’s Merrikans knew things, but exactly what it would be like inside Hammurg’s walls was a mystery. One vanguard. That’s all it would have taken. One vanguard convinced we were the saviours and we’d have known everything.
It had been a good plan, the only failing was Trent and my father. Both had been overprotective, battling each other by possessing me. My father wanted a paternal relationship, one that allowed him to influence my life. Trying to make up for the past ten years. Trent wanted to shield me from that indignity. Wanted to keep me safe, lock me up, well away from Calvin Carstairs.
I’d loved my dad. He’d shown me there was so much more to life than being an Elite. He’d opened my eyes, given me tools to survive anywhere. He’d given me Lena Carr.
But reconciling the ten years he’d been gone had been hard. Reconciling the three years I’d had to live in Ohrikee when he’d been thought dead was even harder.
Trent was right to protect me, but he’d been advocating caution since my father had got here. Caution meant a higher chance of keeping me safe. Keeping me unharmed.
He didn’t realise the damage had already been done.
“How long will you sulk?” a voice said quietly off to my side. I stiffened, but didn’t turn to look at him. I hadn’t seen him move closer, my mind too distracted. My eyes all for Trent.
I’d hurt him and I didn’t know how to make it better.
“I’m not sulking, Cardinal,” I said in my best impersonation of an Elite. Cardinal Beck understood Elites. He served them. Or had at one time. Now he served Free Wánměi. Technically he served the interim Government. In reality, I was beginning to think he might just serve me.
Beck was overprotective too, but not like Trent and not like my father. He didn’t love me. He respected me.
He respected the Zebra.
“You’ve been hiding in this corner for two hours,” he pointed out. “Watching them all make decisions on your behalf and not bothering to correct them.”
“I’m not in charge here.”
“Perhaps you should be.” I turned to look at him then. He wasn’t watching me, his eyes - alert, aware, focused - were on the room at large.
“I find that hard to believe,” I argued.
He offered a shoulder shrug, very un-Cardinal-like. He’d started doing it only recently, and I couldn’t help thinking it was a mimic of me. I always tried not to laugh in his face when he did it. Beck and casual did not go hand in hand.
“President Tan believes you are our nation’s future,” he murmured softly.
“Tan is grasping at straws. A flailing man reaching out for a lifeline. He does not wish to be President, so he seeks an alternative. I am not that which he seeks.”
“You were Wánměi’s.”
“I was what they needed me to be.” The words were familiar, I realised. I’d heard Trent use them before. The rebels were, at one time, what Wánměi needed them to be, too.
“And now?” Beck asked, shifting in the shadows at my side. He’d be spotted if anyone looked too closely. But everyone was avoiding me.
Except Beck.
“And now I don’t know,” I finally admitted, letting out a weighty breath on a sigh.
There was a lengthy pause and then, “I don’t believe it. You risked censure for an ambush. You risked… this” - he held his hand out, indicating my ostracised position in the room - “for the chance to… what exactly? What was your plan, Selena? What had you been trying to do?”
No one called me Selena. Not even my father. Selena had died when he had died. But Beck would have known that. And he would have known that my father’s return changed everything.
But I was no longer Selena Carstairs. And yet I didn’t correct him. Because I didn’t much like Lena Carr right now, it seemed.
“You knew there were people here,” the Cardinal went on. “You knew we’d be attacked as soon as we landed. Yet you kept it to yourself. I understand why,” he rushed to say, but I’d had no intention of interrupting. He was on a roll and I was intrigued to see where he landed when he reached the bottom. “They wouldn’t have wanted to be as antagonistic, as… brash, as that. They’d have wanted to plan and surveil and attack only when the danger had been contained.”
He understood, all right. He’d seen the change in the air as soon as the Masked were identified. As soon as my father was revealed as their leader.
“But that’s not what I can’t fathom,” he said softly, the heat of his nearness finally reaching me. I’d been so cold here in Lunnon. For more reasons than the climate in this city. “You knew they were here, you determined that they’d attack us. You must have realised we’d fight back. They’re all dead,” he whispered and I worked on not flinching. “Would a delay have avoided that? Would it have meant we’d be dead instead of them? I’m not sure. But there’s a reason why you didn’t let this play out naturally. Why you manipulated the situation to your needs.
“What are your needs, Citizen? What does Selena Carstairs hope to achieve?”
“You make it sound so self-serving. So egotistical.”
“Not at all. I cannot believe the Zebra would do anything that would jeopardise Wánměi. But Wánměi is free and the Wiped are already lost to us.”
“They aren’t,” I stressed.
“They’ve been lost to us from the moment they left our shores.”
He moved forward; his proximity did not relax me. I tried not to show that he’d thrown me off balance, but there was something about Cardinal Beck that left me unsteady. Which was ironic, a more steadfast man you could not get.
“Look all around you, Selena,” he ordered. “Look at what being wiped has done.”
I stared out across our new more secured base of operations, my eyes landing on Irdina. So hard. So unforgiving. And beside her my father; a leader in charge of a lost army. My eyes moved to Trent next. I saw the strain there. I saw the worry. The concern for me, for us, for everything. He didn’t trust my father. He didn’t trust the Masked or the Merrikan soldiers. And now he didn’t trust me.
“Being wiped changes things,” the Cardinal said softly. “And changing them back is an impossibility.”
I didn’t nod my head in agreement, but I did agree. We’d all suffered so much, lost so much. But the Wiped? They’d lost everything.
“You knew that, didn’t you?” Beck was saying. “You know rescuing them won’t change a thing.”
I tipped my head up and stared into dark eyes; chocolate with a hint of whiskey.
“That’s why you did it, isn’t it?” he pressed. “That’s why you planned an ambush so secretively. Merrika wants something. Your father wants something. The rebels want something. They all want something that doesn’t exist.
“Unless we make it. Unless we change history.”
“Change history?”
He crouched down beside me, out of the shadows, in plain sight. His shoulder brushed my hip, but he didn’t shift farther away. For a Cardinal to touch an Elite there would have to be good reason. We were of the same class but not. Elite but not Honourable. A Cardinal could never be that.
But that was Old Wánměi. That was a world away from here.
I wondered just what the Cardinal was up to. Because it sure as hell wasn’t to have a chat with me.
“I think you know this,” he said in that deep, soft voice he’d been using; as if to lull me.
“That history needs to be changed?” I asked archly. Did he think I was born yesterday? I was the daughter of an Overseer, raised in Ohrikee. I knew how the game was played.
But what the Cardinal was playing, I had no idea.
“That history will repeat itself if we don’t change it.”
And he had me there. It was exactly what I thought needed to happen.
“History can’t be changed,” I said just as softly.
He looked up at me, held my steady gaze.
“No,” he agreed. “So what was your plan?”
I pulled my eyes away and looked across the room. It took a second or two for me to focus properly, and then I wished I hadn’t. Trent was watching me. Watching us. His eyes flicking between the Cardinal and my face, his body taut but hands relaxed.
I’d cursed his overprotectiveness recently. I’d lashed out, if truth be told, in order to do as I pleased. I might have had altruistic reasons, but the method was pure revolt. And now I missed it. His possessiveness. His ability to protect me from myself.
“Why should I trust you?” I said to the Cardinal, my gaze locked on Trent’s.
Beck laughed; it was deep and highly amused. He was watching Trent too.
“Because I agree,” he said simply.
History needed to be stopped. Or, at least, the repetition of it did. And Cardinal Beck agreed.
“And because,” he added, standing to his full height and looking down at me; effectively turning his back on Trent, “I won’t prevent you from doing what needs to be done, Selena Carstairs. My orders are quite clear on that.”
“Orders?” I looked up at him, breaking eye contact with a steaming yet inactive Trent.
“President Tan has ordered me to assist you and only you.” He leaned down, reaching out to me with a cupped hand. I lifted mine automatically, felt something drop into my palm as he grasped my fingers. “You are not alone in this,” he announced, and then his fingers slipped free as his hand disappeared, along with his body.
Cold air rushed in invading my side where he’d only just kept me heated, as I stared down at the object in my palm. I sucked in a breath of air, felt the burn as it filled my aching lungs. My hand shaking, body quaking, as I stroked it with my thumb.
I snapped the lock on the side and opened the locket, knowing what I’d see. On one side was a picture of Aiko and Tan, and on the other side was me.
This had been hers; my best friend’s. She’d worn it every single day until the day she’d died. Until the day General Chew-wen ordered her death.
Death by drone.
Death by a corrupt regime.<
br />
Wánměi was meant to be perfect, as long as you fitted in perfectly. Aiko had been a shooting star, burning too hot, falling too swiftly. She’d been wiped, in its most basic sense. Not sent to Merrika or Urip, but wiped from existence most brutally.
We’d thought all our Wiped had been. Tan’s heart bled for his sister. Mine wept, a crack so wide I’d always known it would never be whole again. Never be smooth. Complete. Forever a jagged gap in my psyche.
Wánměi was no different. We were as broken as Lunnon. As cut-off as Merrika. As isolated as Urip. The crack that made us what we currently were was wide, but Tan wanted us to bridge it.
Wanted me to bridge it.
Change the world the locket’s engraving said. Make it whole again.
I lifted the locket up and held it securely, flush against my heart.
I couldn’t bring Aiko back. I couldn’t change what had happened to the Wiped simply by rescuing them. I couldn’t mend the world alone.
But I had Cardinal Beck, even if I had no one else.
My eyes searched out Trent, one last attempt to reach him.
His back was to me. And he was talking to my father.
I might not be alone, but I had never felt as lonely as I did right then. Never felt… so on my own.
Five
Time To Remind The Elite
Trent
It was almost time to leave. The new base was secured and no sign of any more Lunnoners had been seen. It was as if they’d melted into the wreck that was Lunnon, licking their wounds. Or preparing for their next attack.
We were pretty sure our new found digs were safe. But we’d been pretty sure we were alone in Lunnon too.
I looked toward Lena, felt that hole in my chest get bigger, and shook my head. She’d been speaking more and more to Beck as she’d been speaking less and less to me.
Fuck it! I wasn’t the one who’d kept the Lunnoners a secret.
“I should bend her over my knee and spank her hard,” I muttered to myself, forgetting that a certain sentient computer was listening. And why I was fixating on Lena’s butt and spanking it was anyone’s guess. Lena Carr was no one’s sex slave.
Wiped Page 3