Wiped

by Nicola Claire

  Leaning back against the wall of the stairwell, we watched through a tiny gap in the doorway as u-Pol, not drones, marched down the hall.

  “What now?” I asked, my hand resting above the laser gun.

  “Now we do it your way,” Lena said with a soft smile.

  My eyes met hers, as I let the door slowly and quietly close beside us, and then I took the steps necessary to be at her side.

  “There’s a lot of them,” I pointed out. “And only two of us.”

  I longed to touch her. To hold her. To kiss her one last time.

  I held back. This was hardly the time to get amorous.

  Lena drew her laser gun and power it up. So fucking sexy.

  “When has that ever stopped you, Trent?” she asked.

  I knew she was referring to the fact we were outnumbered, but in that moment my mind was fixated on something else. Fixated on the only thing that mattered.

  I reached forward, wrapped a hand around her hair at her nape, and tilted her head, lifting her lips to mine. The kiss was hot and hard and conveyed everything I wanted to say but was too scared to. I devoured her mouth, tasting heaven. I nibbled and bit her lips, soothing the sting with a lick of my tongue. I lost myself in her touch, in her scent. In Lena. She held on, kissing me back with equal desire.

  We drew apart slowly, gasping for breath as I leaned my forehead against hers.

  “I love you, baby,” I whispered. She made a small noise. If I didn’t know Lena better, I would have thought it was a sob. It had sounded a little like I was saying goodbye.

  “I love you too,” she murmured, reaching up and softly brushing her lips against mine. We pulled apart, looking less Elite now than ever. She smiled, a truly magnificent and stunning smile. Then said, “Don’t die.”

  I snorted. Drew my laser gun, fired it up, and reached for the door handle.

  “Not a chance,” I drawled. “You’re gonna finish what you just started.”

  She smirked, let her eyes coast over my body eagerly, and then back up to my lips.

  “Sounds like a plan,” she quipped.

  “There, see? Now we know what we’re doing. Shoot to kill. Free our guys. Load up Calvin. And then make out afterwards. It’s practically a done deal.”

  An arched brow was my only reply.

  I took one last look at the woman who had stolen every decent part of me. The woman I strove to be better for. The woman I loved with all of my heart. Lena was an extraordinary creature. One that called people to her. Made them risk life and limb to do what was right. She was everything I pictured our future to be.

  Lena was life.

  The weight of what we were about to do came crashing down on me. I paused. Lena reached forward and cupped her hand over mine.

  “For the better of the people,” she said.

  “For the future of Wánměi,” I replied. Wánměi might just be one nation, but what it stood for was so much more.

  I nodded my head. Lena reciprocated.

  And then we through the door and firing.

  Laser lights arcing through the air. Screams and shouts sounding out as plaster cracked and bricks flew apart, sharp shards flying into our eyes. We ducked and rolled, separating as soon as we came through the doorway. Covering both sides of the hallway. Laser touting u-Pol were everywhere, but for a few seconds we’d caught them well and truly off guard.

  A few precious seconds where we managed to cut a swathe of damage through their ranks.

  But they rallied. The smell of chemicals burning and plastic melting met my nose. A sharp sting of pain lanced across my shoulder. I kept firing. Smoke wafted up all around us, making it hard to see what we were shooting at. But I knew Lena was off to my right, and the guards still firing doggedly at us were straight ahead. So I kept firing.

  The laser guns heated up as the seconds ticked by. But there was no chance of allowing them to cool in between bouts of fire. I crawled forward, shouting a command to Lena, hoping with all of my frantically beating heart that she’d comply.

  Inch by inch we covered more ground, checking our periphery as we came to open doors. There was no sign of our guys. The minutes ticked by slowly, even though we were caught in a maelstrom of laser light. And as we both swapped out our burned laser guns for new ones, pilfered off fallen u-Poll officers, I began to wonder if this had been a wild goose chase. If we’d blasted our way into a heavily armed floor of the Färi for no real reason at all.

  But then I heard them. Shouting. Egging us on. Screaming in Anglisc, so different from the harshly spoken words being hurled at us by the u-Pol. And then a siren started up, blocking out their encouragement, making my heart race faster; time was running out.

  I spun and fired down the hall behind us, unsure if we were being flanked or not. But the sirens had caused a spot between my shoulder blades to start itching. That stairwell had been unlocked; it had no keypad to destroy, preventing further access. Anyone could barge through behind us. The only security they seemed to have up here were cameras mounted on the ceiling, laser wielding u-Pol guards, and whatever cell-like structure they had our men contained in.

  I picked up another laser gun from a downed officer, firing two at once. Sweat dripped into my eyes, my breaths were coming in ragged pants. That sting on my shoulder had turned into a numbness. My arm progressively becoming heavier, until it was obvious that some of the guards carried Mikhail’s kind of gun.

  “Watch for the laser light,” I shouted at Lena, which was a ridiculous thing to say, considering. “It’s a paralytic.”

  I couldn’t see her, but I knew she’d been firing. It was only in that second, when I’d called the warning out, that I realised she’d stopped shooting back.

  “Lena?”

  “Too late,” I think she said. “I already know,” she managed to mumble.

  I’m not sure what happened next. But I knew alone I couldn’t hold them back. The thought of Lena lying on the floor of this God forsaken building, in this God forsaken city, having been shot by these God forsaken bastards, made me mad.

  I saw red.

  A haze of crimson covered my eyes. It could have been blood. It was more likely sweat. These efficient arsehole cauterised.

  A rumble of something anguished and primal swept up from deep down inside. I opened my mouth, a roar of defiance and anger spilling out. I started shooting that motherfucking laser gun like there was no tomorrow. And without Lena, there quite possible wasn’t.

  I raged.

  I screamed.

  I shot at every single thing that moved and some that didn’t.

  When my laser blitzed out, I grabbed another.

  When my right arm lost all feeling, I didn’t stop. I fired harder. Faster.

  When my gun faltered and a u-Pol officer took the opportunity to jump me. I beat him to a pulp with one hand.

  In the end, it was a blood bath. Cauterising laser guns had no chance.

  Red was red, after all.

  I was too scared to move farther away from where I knew Lena was lying. I’d shift perhaps a metre or two, to swap out guns, but I’d retreat to cover her limp body. I couldn’t make myself go further. I couldn’t leave her. Even though I heard my father’s voice inside my mind, telling me to move. To find support. To free my men. To get backup.

  To be a fucking man!

  Every single intelligent thought vanished. I was a crazed animal defending his mate.

  It would have ended there, I’ve no doubt. I was down to one gun, and it had already started blistering my fingers. The smell of electrical wires burning had started to make me lightheaded. Or that could have been the yelling.

  My throat was raw. My eyes were puffy. My vision blurring.

  But I saw it. The shadow. The swift feet and silent movements. The stealth that reminded me of Lena.

  A gap-toothed smiled flashed in amongst the clouds of laser-fire, and then he was gone.

  I stopped firing. I took a couple of hits.

  But nothing could
make me shoot over Jungie.

  With my last strength, I crawled to where I could see Lena lying. A dark bundle of freak-suit, blending into the environment. In a detached kind of way, I admired its camouflaging properties.

  My hand reached hers. She didn’t grip me back. I felt like crying.

  And then a shout sounded out, and the laser lights shifted direction, and peace reigned in our little section of the hall.

  “It’s OK,” I said. “It’s gonna be OK,” I added.

  For the first time in a long time, I lied.

  And as I flopped onto my back, expecting a drone to arrive any minute, I stared up at the ceiling, noticing for the first time the mosaic artwork that covered every inch of space above our heads. It was beautiful. So stunning. So realistic. Almost as though the picture was alive.

  How could such beauty exist in amongst such evil?

  How could Urip sustain this reign of terror under such miraculous artwork?

  I think it was heaven.

  And then an angel appeared. Floating above me. Moving in a way mosaics just shouldn’t.

  “‘Bout time, boss,” Si said. “Now, have you got something for me?”

  I started laughing, but this was by no means a happy moment.

  “Lena,” I croaked.

  Si moved sideways, freeing up a fuzzy image of Alan standing behind him; laser gun charged and ready, eyes narrowed and alert, his finger prepped to fire.

  Beside him, shoulder to shoulder, stood Irdina. Her back to me, her gun aimed at something else, as if she was protecting me like my brother.

  Alan wasn’t really my brother, but he might as well be. And if he wanted that crazy Masked bitch, then so be it. I wouldn’t yank his chain or anything.

  I suppressed the maniacal laughter.

  “Got it!” Si said. Then met my eyes. “She’s fine. Just out of it. But our Zebra protected the vid-screen.”

  “Haven’t they got cyber access here?” I asked, the words sounding hollow and a little bit wonky.

  “Clever arseholes shut down everything,” Si explained. “That’s why they left Calvin with us.”

  I saw him pull out the Shiloh unit and attach some wires. I forced myself to wake up, dragging my body closer to Lena. She should see this. She should be the one to hit the button.

  Si crouched down in front of us, the device attached, the cursor flashing.

  “Lena…” I managed to growl.

  Si flicked his gaze over Lena’s slumped body.

  “You’ve got this, boss,” he murmured. “Besides, does she really need to be the one who silences him forever?”

  He was right. Calvin would do what Carstairs had designed him to do, and then shut down. Because Carstairs wasn’t stupid. Not by a long shot. He’d paid for his mistakes and he’d finally learned his lesson.

  He’d evolved.

  And if he could, we could. But it wouldn’t be easy. The Dark Ages weren’t.

  “You sure about this?” I asked. Alan looked over his shoulder, his eyes met mine.

  “It’s gonna be a challenge,” he growled in his customary fashion, “but when have we ever baulked at that?”

  “Anyway,” Si added, “like Lena said, there’ll be more to this programme than just an off switch.”

  Great. Exactly what we needed. A surprise.

  Lena stirred. I reached out and stroked a hand down her arm, feeling the tingles start to race through my limp fingers.

  “She’s coming around,” Si said. “Do you want to wait?”

  I looked down at my Elite. Looked across at the Shiloh.

  Calvin remained silent.

  My hand found Lena’s. She squeezed it back. I let out a sigh.

  Then hit the enter button on the vid-screen, by the flashing cursor, Lena’s hand held tightly in mine.

  It took sixty long, torturous seconds. Sixty long, torturous seconds in which Alan and Irdina, Beck and his men, and what was left of the Merrikan soldiers, were forced to return fire.

  When the vid-screen went blank, and Calvin’s Shiloh unit stopped blinking its little green light, the city went dark.

  Not true dark, it was still morning.

  But the kind of dark we had forgotten about. The kind of dark we’d not trained for. The kind of dark lost to the annals of history.

  The kind of dark that levelled us all out.

  Because if there wasn’t technology to fight over, if there wasn’t one nation better than the rest, then what was left?

  Maybe not true equality, human nature is funny like that. But at least a platform to build on. A place to start.

  “Well, that’s that,” I said. The silence was almost deafening. “Now, let’s make friends with Urip.”

  Alan snorted. Irdina scowled. Si shook his head.

  And Lena, my precious, perfect, beautiful Lena, just smiled.

  Epilogue

  Lena

  It wasn’t completely dark. My father had seen to that. There were some aspects of technology that were essential. Like electricity. And running water. The ship still worked. So did shortwave radio. That last one had us puzzled, because it seemed a little too close to the Global Net. But radar failed. And satellite images were out. And laser guns, strangely, powered down.

  The selective programming had Simon scratching his head for days.

  But at the time of Urip falling - and it did fall, without drones its power base was weakened beyond measure - an uneasy truce was made. The leading Füri showed themselves when their own Elite started to raise bloody hell. Elite the world over have an intolerance to anything substandard. And post Calvin’s dramatic crashing of the world’s technology, standards were definitely below par.

  They crawled out of their bunkers to a city in ruins. The Wiped having taken control of the streets, ruling it in a style a little too close to vigilante for my like. But with a pledge from the Wiped that they’d retreat, and a few heated but promising discussions between Trent and their main Füri himself, it was decided we’d all pull back and assess the damage.

  But like Trent said, that would take a while.

  We knew where Urip was. They knew where we were. We’d landed them a blow. We weren’t sure if it was the last we’d hear from them, but their jets were landlocked, and their ships no greater than ours.

  And neither of us had drones.

  I wasn’t certain, but I thought perhaps enough had been done for now.

  The Lunnoners reunion with their Lost was hard to witness. But our Wiped helped ease the pain. They understood. We did too. We may not have been wiped ourselves, but we’d shared their pain.

  And we would always remember.

  There was no avoiding that. Calvin had crashed the Net. No vid-screen worked. But before he’d executed that last command, he’d printed out screeds of downloaded history, on any available printer with paper attached.

  In a post apocalyptic world, there hadn’t been much. But we found some in Hammurg, before we went on our way. And we found some in Lunnon, when we stopped for a last farewell to the broken city that had at one time been so like our own. And we found them when we returned to Wánměi.

  His last gift to us.

  Our city celebrated for a full week, once we finally made it back using the stars. The Wiped reunited with friends. The Merrikans joining our party, as if it was their own. We even extended a personal invitation to Mahiah.

  Solidarity. That’s what my father had wanted. A world free to come together, none greater than the other, all capable of friendship and love.

  I missed him more that first week, than I’d missed him for the past ten years.

  And the hole in our wall where the Shiloh unit, where Calvin, used to be haunted me.

  I was standing in front of it when Trent found me. Ten days after we’d finally made it home.

  “There you are,” he said, sauntering into the kitchen as though on top of the world. The heat of a Wánměi night wafted in through the windows behind him. We might have had electricity, but we’d
started to conserve. Air conditioners were strictly monitored. Although how Si managed that, I didn’t ask.

  Conservation and consideration were Wánměi’s new motto. Conserving our planet and considering our neighbours, both near and far.

  Trent walked up to me and wrapped his arms around my body, blocking my view of Calvin’s empty slot.

  “I’ve got a surprise,” he said on a whisper. “I think you should come see it.”

  “A surprise?” I said, twisting the engagement ring on my left hand. He’d showered me with surprises since we’d left Hammurg, as though scared I’d disappear if he blinked.

  I understood. It had been close. We’d both been hit by lasers, but I’d been shot to hell and back.

  I still had nightmares. Trent still had to reassure me that laser guns were gone from this world.

  Nothing’s perfect. But we were free. The Wiped were free. And Lunnon’s Lost had found a new home. Geh Dowee had never looked better. The old oil refinery still stood sentinel over it, but the abandoned factories were being remodelled into homes, and the streets were starting to team with people.

  We had the room. We welcomed them. And it had nothing to do with a debt paid.

  This was us. This was Wánměi.

  “Come on,” Trent urged, slipping his hand into mine. Our fingers entwined. “I worked so hard on this,” he complained. “Don’t spoil it.”

  “I won’t,” I promised as I followed him up the spiral stairs to our bedroom.

  I thought we’d stop there, the room was covered in lit candles. The bed a riot of red petals scattered over white damask. I could smell their perfume, mixed with the scents of night time Wánměi. Garlic and cardamon. Star anise and cinnamon. Chilli. Lime. And the sea.

  So fresh. So beautiful. So mouthwatering.

  But Trent led me past the beckoning bed and out the window onto our roof.

  Our deck was draped in gauzy fabric, the pillows beneath laid out in a sumptuous welcoming pile. Tiki lights flared all around. The brazier glowed softly off to the side. A bucket of ice stood next to the cushions, under the rain cover, sheltering us from the night. Trent walked backwards, still holding my hand, his eyes on mine, his lips tipped up in a crooked smile.