They answered with one voice. “Yes, Unum.”
“From Yindu Cheng?”
“Yes, Unum.”
The cradle’s clacking filled the dead air while the Unum pondered. The pondering was for show; he’d known what needed to be said before the couple entered the chamber. “Then I wager you’ll be childless nano-engineers from Yindu Cheng come the December S.A.T.”
The husband and wife traded agonizing looks, drifting toward an all-but-foregone conclusion. “We’ll get ten thousand pounds,” the husband said. “I don’t know how, but we’ll get it. On our honor.”
“Be certain you do.” The Unum palmed the orbs, stopping the cradle. The silence that followed was as foreboding as he’d intended. “And be certain to keep this arrangement to yourselves or your son will enjoy your company in the grooll mill.”
The husband and wife bowed at the waist and scurried out of the chamber. Narses and Julinian shuffled to the desk, chucklebucking. “You drive a hard bargain, Uncle,” Julinian said, admiration coloring the observation.
“A pittance compared to what my father paid for my place as Unum.” He peered at Narses. The boy’s vacant expression told him one thing. It would cost infinitely more in bribes to the Cognos Populi to elevate him to Unum Potentate—unless his claim to the title was undisputed. Only one path could deliver that result. “But I think securing your place will cost me far, far less.”
Pyros cleared his throat. “May I be excused? I have some issues to attend.”
The Unum noted the chafed posture and black sheen of disapproval behind Pyros’ eyes. He’d voiced his revulsion of the test-manipulation scheme upon assuming the mantle of Primae Jiren, yet he now relied on it to save his daughter’s life. His belief in the Unum’s promise to protect his daughter ought to be enough to keep him in line, but one had to be careful not to place too much faith in other people’s faith . . . or promises. He dismissed Pyros with a finger-flick. “By all means, go attend to your issues.”
Pyros exited the chamber. The Unum addressed Narses the instant the door to the outer chamber closed. “You need to submit your application to sit the May S.A.T., and you need to do it today.”
“I thought I was going to sit it later in the year.”
“You’ll sit it next month.”
“Why, Papa?”
“There’s a prospect who may achieve a perfect score on the test.”
Narses’ mouth widened. “That would mean I—”
“I know what it means, boy! Just make sure you get your application submitted!”
“Who’s the prospect?” Narses asked.
“You don’t need to know.”
“It’s Daoren al Lucien, isn’t it?”
The Unum glared at this niece. At times, her cunning was too sharp for her own good. “It doesn’t matter! Neither of you are to discuss this with anyone. Is that understood?”
They both agreed. With that concluded, one more matter needed attention. “Do you know where Commander Cang’s district office is located?”
Narses’ nasally haws accompanied an ever-more vacant expression.
Julinian chucklebucked into her hand. “I know where it is.”
“Good. Later today I want you to go there. Speak to Cang, and Cang alone. Tell her to come see me at her earliest convenience. Use those words exactly.”
“Is there a reason for the summons?” Julinian asked. “She’ll want to know.”
“Say it’s a matter of urgency and delicacy. And she’s to inform no one. Not even Pyros.”
Julinian nodded, eyes aglow.
The Unum couldn’t be certain, but his niece might be cunning enough to know the true reason for the summons.
* * *
PYROS STALKED THE bowels of the Assembly, struggling to contain the outrage churning within him. He’d sought out the lower, less populated level due to its lack of witnesses.
He’d known about the test-manipulation scheme for years. A month into his tenure as Primae Jiren, he’d asked the Unum why so many parents requested audiences with him. The answer confirmed a long-simmering suspicion; the dim progeny of the ruling caste could buy its way out of harvesting. Until now, he hadn’t fully appreciated the cost to the city-state.
Ten thousand pounds of grooll.
It was a staggering sum—enough to feed ten thousand for one day. The scheme deprived far more than ten-thousand denizens of their daily sustenance though. The Unum’s arrangement with the Indonoid couple signified a drop in the sea. He made hundreds of similar arrangements before each monthly S.A.T., snatching millions of pounds of grooll from the peoples’ mouths every year.
Pyros grasped the handle of his crystal dagger. He didn’t draw the blade from its belt-sheath. He just needed something to squeeze.
The truest measure of the Unum’s excess might be its consequences. Faced with starvation, the people he deprived might decide they had nothing left to lose. A people with nothing to lose often chose courses of action that led to the greatest loss of life. The Unum’s greed could very well trigger the extinction of every man, woman, and child in Daqin Guojin.
He tightened his grip on the dagger’s handle. A few weeks ago, the Unum had asked him to cull Lucien for the greater good of Daqin Guojin. He’d done it for the greater good of his daughter instead, but what use was saving her from the grooll mill if she was destined to perish in a bloody insurrection? Did the greater good of the city-state now demand the removal of another man?
He rounded a corner and slowed his pace. While the hallway was vacant, prying eyes still lurked behind every glass wall. The faintest glimmer of anger or dissent would be noticed.
As usual, movement honed his thoughts. They cut through his fears and doubts, clearing a path to an inescapable conclusion. The greater good of Daqin Guojin demanded the Unum’s removal. As he walked past closed chamber doors and empty alcoves, his thoughts carved up more questions that proved just as unsettling.
Could he trust Commander Cang to aid in the plan? Her questioning of the edict to raise the S.A.T.’s passing score suggested she might be an ally, but what if she was a tool of the Unum, feigning dissent to entrap others? Cang’s investigation of Laoshi al Euclidius suggested she was marching in lock-step with the Cognos Populi. Could that be a ruse to disguise her discontent with the ruling caste?
Pyros navigated the maze of potential angles, dizzy from the murky calculations. Two questions above all others kept him centered.
If he revealed his hand to Cang, would he be condemning himself? If he didn’t, would he be condemning humanity?
He marched the hallways for another five minutes, wrestling with the questions, before recognizing their false dichotomy. The stakes demanded one answer.
He had to trust Cang. He’d have to meet with her, but not here in the Assembly. It would have to take place in a less-populated locale. And soon.
Pyros pulled his quantum tile from his tunic and raised its screen to his mouth. “Contact Commander Cang.”
* * *
DAOREN STALKED THE Void’s lumenglass stage. He passed through the grooll mill’s rotating plasmonic projection, struggling to digest the words Laoshi had fed him. He had to repeat them to ensure he’d heard him right. “You’re saying the Unum has been manipulating S.A.T. scores for years?”
“Mako’s prep-tests were stellar,” Laoshi said from the side of the stage. “His failure made no sense, so in the months following his test I conducted my own discreet investigation. In the past year alone, nineteen hundred prospects with failing prep-test results received higher-than-average S.A.T. scores. That number falls well outside the statistical norm . . . and all were children of the ruling caste. Only one man in Daqin Guojin has the placement and power to make that happen.”
“Is he doing it in exchange for grooll?”
“I found no direct evidence of that, but the Unum isn’t known for his altruistic tendencies.”
“How is this possible?” Heqet asked, twisting her hair braids beside th
e projection. “Aren’t there safeguards in place to prevent it?”
“Quantum encryption protects individual scores from being altered,” Laoshi said. “Each S.A.T. is encoded using the prospect’s unique biometric data. They could only be switched between prospects by someone who has access to the datasets, but it would require tremendous effort and considerable foresight to avoid detection.”
“And that’s what happened to Mako?” Daoren asked.
“His score was switched with the Unum’s niece.” Laoshi wrung his hands. “In my haste to spark an inquiry, I broke a sacred edict and sent Julinian’s prep-tests to your father. I fear he used them instead to confront the Unum and paid for it with his life.”
Hearing his own suspicions echoed in Laoshi’s words proved too much to bear. Daoren’s jaw clenched so tight, he thought his teeth might shatter. “I’ll cull the Unum! I swear it!”
“That, dear boy, is exactly what he intends to do to you.”
Daoren’s jaw slackened. “What?”
Laoshi shook his head. “I uncovered air-link transactions that prove prep-test results have been sent by one or more of my Librarians to an entity outside the Librarium. If I’m right, the Unum is the recipient. He’ll know that your results are the highest ever recorded. He’ll know that you may become the first prospect in history to write a perfect S.A.T.”
Heqet gasped. “You’d earn the incontestable right to become Unum Potentate.”
“I’d sooner be harvested for grooll!”
“And so you will be,” Laoshi said. “It’s a right the Unum covets for his son.”
Daoren gulped a spine-bracing breath. At last the truth was out. The forces aligned against him included the most powerful man in Daqin Guojin—and the security apparatus of the city-state under his control. One solution existed for such a problem. “All the more reason to cull the Unum!”
“Brave words, Daoren, but even if you could get close enough to strike him down, you’d have precious little lifespan afterward in which to savor the triumph.” Laoshi stroked his beard. “Besides, there’s a more intelligent way to defeat him.”
“I’m listening.”
“We’ll get to that in good time. First, I need your help with a problem of my own.”
“What problem?”
Laoshi limped closer. “I need your help to save Heqet’s life.”
Daoren rattled his head, sure he’d misheard. Laoshi’s words often skirted the point by such a wide margin, they missed it altogether. “Did you say Heqet’s life?”
Laoshi leveled an adoring gaze at her. “She’s as bright as cold-rolled crystal, but a reading disability means she won’t be able to complete the S.A.T. in the allotted time. I need your help to save her.”
“How in Sha’s name can I help save her if I’m going to be harvested as well?”
Laoshi limped closer still. “Do you know who you remind me of?”
Daoren scowled. Damn this Librarian and his endless questions! “I haven’t the faintest idea.”
“Dominus, your mother’s father. We were friends in our youth.”
Daoren scrutinized Laoshi’s face, trying to read his intent in its folds and creases. His grandfather had died young, but his mother had never mentioned how he met his fate. “So I remind you of my grandfather. What of it?”
“Did you know he died defending Daqin Guojin from Havoc when your mother was an infant? That he took hundreds of mongrels with him before he departed for the Great After?”
“No.”
Laoshi grasped Daoren’s shoulders. “I watched you save your mother on the day of Mako’s S.A.T. Seeing you charge up the northern stairway into the teeth of that storm brought back so many memories. It proved what I’d always suspected. Dominus’ strength and courage, his determination to protect the innocent from harm—all these qualities inhabit you.”
Daoren blinked, struggling to believe him, struggling to overcome years of distrust in his kind. For reasons he couldn’t articulate, he needed to see Heqet’s reaction.
The glint in her eyes conveyed her thoughts with absolute clarity. She believed.
Laoshi lowered his voice to a hushed, almost reverent volume. “I can’t prevent you or Heqet from failing the S.A.T. I can’t spirit you out of the city-state without activating your sonic nanocharges. But I can—”
“Why not hide us in here?” Daoren’s gaze panned the immense Void. “The Jireni can’t touch us and it would buy time to—”
“It would buy time, but nothing more. The Cognos Populi likes to make examples of prospects who flout the test. Once they discovered your failure to sit the S.A.T., you’d be hunted. If the two of you remained at large after a month, they’d—”
“Remotely activate the nanocharges.” Daoren grimaced. “I’d forgotten about that capability.”
“It has to be this way,” Laoshi said. “All I can do is arrange for you and Heqet to sit together in the same row in the Center.” He pointed at the grooll mill’s plasmonic projection. “And before you do, we must figure out a way to survive that.”
Daoren gazed upon the mill’s infinite complexity. Daqin Guojin’s brightest minds had designed it to convert prospects into grooll with brutal efficiency. The process had operated, uninterrupted and without failure, for two hundred years.
Maybe they could survive it, but he hadn’t the faintest idea how.
14
Plan of Attack
PYROS GUIDED THE Hexalite levicart around a sharp curve near Meiguo Cheng’s grooll-distribution center. In this part of the district, the drab structures lining the transway topped a few hundred feet above ground-level. They stayed in permanent shadow thanks to the loftier structures gracing the wealthier surrounding boroughs of Zhongguo Cheng.
He gripped the steering yoke with both hands and counter-steered. Compressed air jetted from varinozzles in the port nacelles, nudging the levicart’s front end to the right and aligning its snubbed nose with the transway. Despite the additional hydrogen-infusion cells, the hullform’s armor cladding made the vehicle top-heavy, calling for a light touch on the control inputs. A push of the throttle-control activated the aft varinozzles—their abrasive hiss resonated in the empty troop compartment.
The levicart accelerated down the straightaway. Seated in the cabin’s forward passenger seat, Cang resumed the conversation after the hiss faded. “How much grooll do you think he’s acquired?”
“Sha knows. The Unum demanded ten thousand pounds from the couple. He’s had audiences with hundreds of parents over the past few months in his chamber. He may see the richest parents at his palace and demand even larger sums for his service.”
Pyros glanced over to gauge her reaction.
Cang tugged at the collar of her tunic, loosening it. She stared out the passenger window, brooding in silence.
They’d left her district office in Zhongguo Cheng forty minutes ago. She hadn’t questioned the reason for the sudden meeting, nor why her aide couldn’t attend, nor why they were holding it in a levicart in the middle of Meiguo Cheng. She’d absorbed the details of the Indonoid couple’s audience without comment. He’d tried to take her emotional pulse a dozen times, but Cang was a difficult woman to read.
The pulse of Meiguo Cheng was easier to measure. Beyond the levicart’s armored glass, Caucasoids massed on the pediwalks lining the transway. They carried urns, jars, and other containers. Today was a ration day. Entire families had ventured from their abodes to collect their monthly grooll allotments. Their shriveled cheeks and lank limbs attested to the paltry amounts they received from the distribution center.
“How long has he been running the scheme?” Cang asked.
“At least four years.”
“Do other members of the Assembly know about it?”
“Some, but he’s bribing them to blind their eyes.”
“While the people starve,” she said, still gazing out the passenger window. “We can’t allow this to . . .”
Pyros sensed a tremor of f
ear in her voice before it faded. Was she afraid to reveal her hand, just as he’d been to reveal his? It was time set a new path, and that started with setting her mind at ease.
“You needn’t fear me, Cang. I believe the Unum’s greed will spell the end of Daqin Guojin.” He steadied his breathing; the next statement would seal his fate for good or ill. “And I believe we must take action to stop that from happening.”
She turned from the window. Relief rinsed her face. “Then we’re of the same mind,” she said, offering her hand.
Pyros grasped it. They shook; one palm up, one palm down. The gesture was symbolic, but significant. It represented their bond, in words and deeds. “Now for the hard question,” he said. “How do we address the problem?”
If Cang had the answer, she kept it to herself.
“What of your investigation into Laoshi al Euclidius? Are there any indications of him inciting dissent? He could be a useful ally.”
“None yet,” she said, “but I think he—”
Four dense thuds rippled through the cabin.
Pyros flinched at the impacts. Four oblong craters marred the windshield, etching a diagonal line inches from his face. They came from one source. “Dart gun!”
Cang shifted forward in her seat, neck craned to scan the tops of the adjacent structures. “High-angle trajectory!”
Three more thuds rang out. Three more craters gouged Cang’s side of the windshield. She recoiled from the din, but recovered in short order.
Pyros shoved the throttle-control forward. Compressed air shrieked; the levicart accelerated. He scanned the pediwalk.
Denizens scattered, dropping urns and jars. Parents scooped up their children and ran hunchbacked, using their own bodies as shields. None carried weapons.
A tattoo of clangorous thuds signaled more dart strikes against the aft hullform.
“Where are the dissenters firing from?”
“An elevated position,” Cang said, still scanning the rooftops. “I think they’re trying to draw us forward!”
Survival Aptitude Test: Sound (The Extinction Odyssey Book 1) Page 15