Chains of Freedom

by Selina Rosen

  "It's hard to talk with your mouth full," RJ said with a crooked grin. "Besides, it's hard to look a naked man in the eyes."

  He ran a finger over her lips. "I'm not afraid of you, RJ. I never have been. I love you. Let's try again. After all, if anyone's going to be able to do it, it's going to be me."

  He wasn't very good with words, but he did love her. She could feel it radiating from him. It felt good. He felt good. She wanted him, wanted his love. Jessica had had a human lover, and Whitey wasn't entirely human. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  He held her tightly for a second, then let his hands slide down over her body, seeming to have not much more trouble getting her out of her clothes than he'd had getting out of his.

  She loved the smell of him, the feel of him, the way he touched her. She could do this. She started to relax. This time, things were going to be different.

  She'd surprised him in many ways. He knew she'd be different from human women, and she was. He had expected her to be demanding, and she was. What he hadn't expected was that she would be so giving or so loving.

  He lay on his back in the exhausted and ecstatic state she had left him, and this time it was she who clung to him.

  For RJ, it was as if she now knew where she stood in the world. Suddenly she had some normalcy. Whitey was her lover now, and she admitted to herself that she loved Whitey in a very comfortable, if less-than-romantic way. He loved her, and she—Argy bitch that she was—loved sex.

  "I have never felt . . . so relaxed . . . so at peace with the world. I feel fabulous. I love sex."

  Close enough, Whitey thought. As close a RJ was likely to get. He kissed her and found his second wind.

  David was enjoying the cartoon with talking dogs and mice. He decided that, in ancient times, mice must have been bigger than dogs. It must have something to do with the mutations that RJ and Topaz had been talking about. It finally occurred to him that RJ had been gone an awfully long time. With an effort, David pulled himself away from the viewing screen and went to check on her. He asked Topaz where he'd taken her, and was pointed in the right direction.

  David hadn't seen Whitey leave, so it was safe to say that he wasn't prepared for what he found. He heard strange sounds coming from the room, and doubled his pace. When he flung the curtain open, ready to kill, one thing was crystal-clear. Whitey and RJ were lovers. There was no other interpretation for the tangle of flesh under the black sheets. He shut the curtain quickly and stood there in stunned silence. RJ started screaming in ecstasy, and David hurried off down the hall, his face beet-red.

  "She OK?" Mickey asked when David re-entered the room.

  "Huh?" David asked, startled.

  "RJ. She OK?"

  "She's, ah . . ." He started to laugh. "She's sorta busy." The others looked around quickly, and noticed for the first time that Whitey was missing.

  "I guess she really is his woman," Topaz commented dryly.

  "She is now, that's for damn sure!" David laughed.

  "Way ta go, Whitey!" Mickey cheered.

  "Father will be so pleased," Poley commented.

  "Your father would be pleased that your sister is fucking a huge albino? You come from a weird fucking family," Levits said in disbelief.

  Suddenly, it all melded in Topaz's mind. The robot, the girl: it all made sense now. "Stewart's children? You're Stewart's children!"

  Poley's head snapped quickly around to face him.

  "I'm not authorized to give out that information."

  "Ha! Then I'm right!" The triumphant smile left Topaz's face. "I was sorry to hear of Stewart's death."

  "My father is not dead!" Poley said emphatically.

  Knowing what Poley was, Topaz was a little shocked at this show of irrational behavior.

  "I saw his obituary. It went into the Reliance files some weeks back. I'm sorry. I assumed that you knew."

  "My father is not dead," Poley insisted.

  "I'm sorry." Topaz looked at David.

  "How did he die?" David asked.

  "They said that he had some terminal illness. He shot himself. They found him in his laboratory."

  "That's a lie!" Poley screamed. "My father would not shoot himself. Therefore, he is not dead!" With that, he sat down on the floor and covered up his ears.

  David motioned for Topaz to follow him, and Topaz complied.

  "RJ's father really killed himself?" David demanded.

  "Yes, but I doubt now that it was because of any illness."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well . . . when I read the report, I had no way of knowing that RJ was Stewart's child. She is, and therefore that changes everything. If they knew she was his, they might have tortured him to death. The autopsy could be nothing but a lie. Or, more likely really . . ."

  "What?" David prompted when Topaz hesitated.

  "He probably killed himself to protect RJ."

  David nodded. That made a horrible kind of sense. He looked at where Poley sat, still covering his ears. "I don't see any reason to tell RJ. If Poley wants to tell her . . ." He shrugged. "Well, I don't think any of the rest of us should. I can't see that it would do any good."

  "Of course," Topaz said. He looked at Poley in a troubled way. "I'm going to turn in. Make yourselves at home. You'll find sleeping quarters just about anywhere you look, some big and fancy, some small and simple. Take your pick. Makes no difference to me; the drones do all the housework." Without further ado, he left.

  Topaz walked through the halls of the old prison. The echoes of his footsteps resounded off the walls till it sounded like a small army was walking with him. He liked that. He always had.

  Most nights, he liked to imagine that he could hear the voices of those callous prisoners from centuries past. The mutterings going from cell to cell. They'd even used the toilets as a kind of telephone system. Kind of gross, but it had apparently worked. Still, the vision of one man listening to a toilet while another talked into one always brought a smile to his face.

  Then he would think of the generations of tourists who had walked through here. Not long after the Reliance took power, the tours stopped. For one thing, such leisure-time activities were discouraged. For another, next to a Reliance prison, Alcatraz seemed like the Holiday Inn.

  Not long after the tours stopped, the earthquake hit. It was the worst one to hit in all the shaky history of the Bay Area. It left the city in ruins. The Golden Gate Bridge crashed into the sea, but not till after the Bay Bridge collapsed. The Reliance saw nothing worth saving, so they condemned the "City by the Bay" and relocated the survivors. Topaz, however, did see something worth salvaging. The prison was not only in one piece, it had been virtually untouched by the quake. Besides, all available information indicated that the fault had settled without sinking the entire state, as many in his day had believed it would.

  He had worked diligently to prepare for this moment. He'd built a fortress for a revolution. A foundation for a rebellion that would topple the Reliance and bring back a way of life that only he now remembered.

  He'd watched through the centuries as San Francisco had become Alsterase, and Alsterase had become the capitol of the discontented. Happily, he had watched as he saw the once-great city become a home for refugees of every type. RJ's crew was a prime example of the variety of misfits that the city attracted. They developed their own values and their own laws. They built up businesses and homes. They were a community unto themselves. Granted, they were mostly undisciplined and unruly, but at least they had spirit.

  He'd been monitoring RJ's progress from the beginning. Marge had calculated that there was a sixty-percent chance that she would wind up in Alsterase. When he heard of the death of a GSH, he'd figured she was here. He calculated she would be lured to the island by the lights. He counted on her being able to get through his traps.

  He hadn't counted on her being Stewart's child.

  He'd never been one to believe in predestination. He didn't believe that the Fate
s ruled a man's life. Or at least he never had before. Now he wasn't so sure. After all, if he had never made the acquaintance of a rather dark beauty in an even darker tavern . . .

  It didn't bear thinking of. It was speculation at best. It was a coincidence, that was all. Nothing so supernatural about coincidence, right?

  Serendipity, a happy accident. He smiled. He was happy. The old place was alive again.

  He roamed on down the halls. Clint Eastwood had made a movie here, or was it two? He couldn't remember. Perhaps he'd ask Marge later if it still bothered him. Somewhere on the grounds outside Tyne Daley had done a magnificent death scene.

  How many movies had used Alcatraz as a backdrop? How many actors and actresses had listened to their footsteps echo through these dank halls as Topaz was doing now? Were they even now playing out roles? Shakespeare had said that all life was a stage, all men and women merely players.

  He looked out a barred window at the City by the Bay. "The City that Rocks, the City that Never Stops," he mumbled. It was true. Battered and weary, it was still very much there, and very much alive. Through earthquake and hostile takeover, the city still stood. Though decay reached to overtake it, it hung on to the last vestiges of its pride and cried out, I AM A CITY!

  In point of fact, it was the most important city in the world.

  The inhabitants of Alsterase had broken the rules and condemned themselves in one way or another. They were wanted men and women. Their lives weren't worth spit outside of Alsterase.

  And yet they were the only free people in the Reliance.

  Right now, they were nothing but a discontented rabble. But with RJ's leadership and David's charisma they could soon become a force to be reckoned with.

  Yes, he and this old city had been through a hell of a lot together.

  But the party was just starting.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "Senator Kirk," Right finally said after coughing quietly. He'd been standing in her office for nearly five minutes, and she had given him no indication that she noticed him. "Senator Kirk."

  "I heard you the first time, Right," Jessica grated out. She stared dispassionately at the shelves that lined one wall in her office. "Anything on RJ?"

  "No, but Parker's here."

  "Good, good." She didn't look away from the shelves. "Well, don't just stand there, Right. Bring him in."

  Right left and returned shortly with a man Jessica assumed was Parker. She had never met him before. In fact, she had only this morning pulled his file.

  He wore a gray Reliance suit that showed his rank to be Elite Scientist. His youthful round face shone with eagerness. His blond hair flopped onto his forehead and had to be constantly pushed out of his eyes. He offered his hand, but Jessica ignored it.

  "Please sit down, Parker," Jessica said formally. "Right." Both men were seated. "I suppose you've heard of this RJ person?"

  "Yes, of course, Senator." Parker said in a squeaky voice that could very quickly get on your nerves.

  "I need you to make a GSH for me."

  "Well, of course. If you'll just get me the proper papers, and the specifications . . ." Parker was all cooperation.

  "I don't have the proper papers. Here are the specifications." She handed him a paper. He took it, read it, and his eyes got huge. He gave the paper back.

  "Even if you had the proper papers, this would be illegal."

  "I am well aware of that, Parker. But try to understand. What I am asking you to build is possibly the only thing that has a chance of ridding us of RJ."

  Jessica looked at Right. He knew nothing of her plans. His face showed his horror at the idea of going over the heads of not only Jago but also the World Commissioner. She looked him right in the eyes as she said, "Governor General Right and I have discussed this at length, and our conclusion is always the same. Without this creature, we cannot hope to capture RJ."

  "If you had the proper authorization . . . this thing . . . it would be capable of random thought! A full range of emotions! Its only loyalty would be to you . . ."

  "Is it possible?" Jessica asked.

  "Well, yes. But . . ."

  "No buts, Parker. I need this, and I'm willing to do whatever I have to do to get it," she said hotly.

  "I'm sorry, Senator, but you know what would happen if I were caught. I would be the one in trouble. No offense, but you military types have a way of not being around when they start asking questions." Parker shook his head. "I'm sorry. Without the proper authorization, I'm just not willing to take the chance."

  Jessica smiled, not something that put a man at ease. "I'm not asking, Parker. You will do this for me."

  "I will not. If you try to force me, I'll go straight to Jago." He stood up as if to leave.

  "Funny," Jessica leaned forward over the desk and folded her hands in front of her. "That's just what Stewart said.

  Parker stopped and turned to face her, a frightened look on his face.

  "You remember Stewart, don't you? A brilliant geneticist. They found him dead in his lab just sort of lying there in a pool of blood, cold and very dead. They say that he killed himself. How sad."

  Parker sat back down. He had no doubt that she had had something to do with Stewart's death. He could go to Jago, but it would be his word against hers, and she was both military and a Senator. Besides, Jago was more likely than not to blow him off without even giving him audience. He cleared the frog from his throat. "It takes time, you know," he said with a resigned sigh.

  "A year and two months. See you then, Parker," she said dismissively. Parker stood and started for the door. "Don't forget this." She handed him the paper. "Enjoy your stay at Capitol."

  He left without a backwards glance.

  "What the hell are you playing at?" Right asked as soon as the door closed behind Parker. "You're toying with a death sentence. You know that, don't you? Making an illegal GSH is bad enough. But making one without any papers . . ."

  "Do you want to get RJ?" Jessica stared again at the shelves.

  "Of course, but . . ."

  "If we're going to stop her, we're going to have to break a few rules. Don't you get it, Right? That's why she's winning." Jessica looked at him and smiled. "RJ's not playing by the rules."

  They spent several days on the island, absorbing what information they most needed at the moment. The computer and its creator were only too happy to help them.

  What RJ had gleaned she started putting to work as soon as they returned to the mainland.

  With a list of political and military refugees, they set out through Alsterase to gather new recruits for their cause. Some were more easily convinced than others, but in the end, they had all willingly joined. Marge and RJ had chosen well.

  Among the most eager of their new recruits was a pretty, red-haired woman named Sandra. Her bright green eyes shone with mischief, and she always wore a wide, sincere smile. She wasn't a very big person, barely five-foot-six, and she probably didn't weigh a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet. Her looks didn't fool RJ. Sandra could hold her own with the best of them, and she had the right attitude.

  Sandra had been some bigshot Reliance general's private secretary—a cushy job with a lot of benefits. For years she'd been using the computer at her disposal to divert shipments of supplies from military installations to needy civilian villages. Finally, she got caught. Despite the protests of the general, with whom she'd been carrying on an illegal affair, she was shipped off to a work prison—one that dealt primarily with the raising and shearing of sheep.

  Sandra's memories of sheep were less than pleasant. "They're homely, disgusting, filthy little bastards, that will go out of their way to shit on, or preferably, in your shoes. They simply delight in getting drenched, so that they can exude the foulest stench known to man, and they do this five minutes before you're supposed to shear them. I hate sheep!"

  The only thing that Sandra hated more than sheep was the Reliance. The girl possessed a burning, passionate hatred for the Relia
nce that rivaled even that of David and RJ.

  She'd slept her way into her position as the general's secretary, and she'd slept her way out of prison, and she was damn proud of the fact.

  They took over the entire fourth floor of the hotel and made it their base of operations. Their new members were given weapons and communicators set to a closed channel and monitored by Marge.

  Now they were ready for the next stage—secretly replacing every Reliance spy in Alsterase with their own personnel. They began this task at dusk one day, and by the first light of dawn on the following morning all twelve spies had been replaced. Poley's skillful hands fixed their Reliance communicators so that there would be no detectable changes in voiceprints.