The Uprising: The Forsaken Trilogy

by Lisa M. Stasse

  Perhaps the UNA has finally found the perfect drug that it has been looking for—the kind of drug that renders even the most rebellious minds docile. Maybe even David has been affected by it. Only that would explain his actions.

  The drones keep leading us through the trees. We walk for at least an hour, trudging through the jungle. I feel hot, sweaty, and exhausted. I’m starting to despair.

  Finally, the drones slow down a bit.

  We’ve reached some kind of gigantic building that resembles a massive, abandoned cathedral. I see it rising up from the trees. It’s a vast structure, made of weathered red brick, with a rotting wooden roof. A large, round stained-glass window adorns one of the walls—an image of a lamb facing a tiger. The other windows are mostly smashed. There are holes in the roof, and ropy green vines grow up and around the sides of the building. Despite its disrepair, it’s huge and imposing.

  I stumble over a tree root, and then steady myself and keep walking. I gaze up at the brick building again as we get closer. It must be some kind of relic from an earlier era on the wheel. From the time when my parents were here, or even from before that.

  Apparently, it will now become our prison. The drones clearly intend to keep us inside this building while they figure out what to do with us.

  They herd us up a wide cobblestone path. Weeds and small white flowers grow through cracks between the stones. Everywhere I look are drones, watching us with arrows drawn, pointed in our direction. I know that they won’t hesitate to fire on anyone who tries to run, or who fights back. Some of the drones also hold pistols and rifles now, confiscated from Dr. Barrett’s guards.

  “Move,” drones say, as they gesture for us to enter the decaying structure. I keep walking next to Cass. Both of us are silent. We pass underneath a huge brick archway and into the cavernous building.

  Nervous voices echo against the stones. Shafts of gray light shine down from the holes in the roof, at least forty feet above our heads. Birds flutter about inside, nesting in the remains of the rafters.

  Refugees keep streaming into the space. The old cathedral is so huge that there is plenty of room for us. The floor is just rubble and dirt.

  A scuffle breaks out nearby. Several of Dr. Barrett’s guards have grabbed one of the drones. They’re trying to take his gun. Instinctively, I get ready to help. I’m hoping for a rebellion once again.

  But arrows hammer down instantly from above, making me gasp. Dr. Barrett’s guards fall back. Dead.

  Shocked, I glance up.

  Only then do I see painted figures high in the shadows, moving around on rickety wooden catwalks. The place is crawling with drones.

  I wonder if Liam is being held here, or somewhere else. Is he with Dr. Barrett and Octavio? I look around for him desperately, but it’s so crowded that there’s no way to find him.

  I glance back at the front doors of the cathedral. Refugees continue flooding into the space. Although we number nearly a thousand people, we are nothing compared to the drones. I’ve never been outnumbered this badly on the wheel before.

  The crowd is silent now, after the murder of the guards. The loudest voices are just whispers. I hear the sounds of the jungle outside, and the squawking of birds overhead.

  Then there’s a loud concussion. I turn to see that the thick wooden doors of the building have been slammed shut behind us, and bolted. The broken windows on this level have been boarded over with planks, so there’s no other way out. I stand there next to Cass, looking around. I don’t know what the drones are going to do next.

  They could set fire to this building. Kill us with flames and smoke. Then again, they could have killed us already if they wanted to.

  Inexplicably, I notice the drones among us start dropping down to their knees. They keep their weapons pointed at us, but they crouch down in the dirt like they’re about to begin praying.

  “What the hell are they doing?” Cass whispers.

  “I don’t know!”

  Completely confused, I look around. Again, it’s like the drones are acting as one cohesive unit. I catch an unexpected glimpse of Dr. Elliott in the crowd. I haven’t seen him for a long time. He must have traveled here on another airship. He’s studying the drones closely. The scientists seem as shocked by the drones’ behavior as we are.

  “Prisoners of war!” a voice suddenly booms out, making me startle. It’s the same amplified voice we heard in the forest. “Welcome to your new home. Confinement House Four, in the center of the purple sector.”

  The noise of the crowd gets louder. Everyone starts looking around. The voice seems to be coming from everywhere and nowhere.

  “Where is this bastard?” Cass mutters next to me, craning to look.

  “I’ll let you know when I find him,” I whisper back, searching the crowd.

  “What do you want with us?” Dr. Elliott calls out loudly. He’s risking his life just by speaking. “We’re here to free the wheel. To free all of you!”

  Voices rise up in support from the crowd:

  “We’re on the same side!”

  “We hate the UNA just like you do!”

  “Let’s work together,” another scientist near me starts to implore. The butt of a spear crashes down on his head, silencing him.

  I’d forgotten that reasoning with the drones is futile. To them, we’re as much of a threat to their way of life as the UNA is.

  I hear creaking footsteps on one of the catwalks above us, and I look up. A row of drones is nimbly striding across it. They’re headed toward a large wooden balcony at one end of the cathedral. It’s shrouded in shadows, twenty feet up.

  The balcony was once an organ or choir loft. It has old, rotting blue silk curtains hanging down on either side of it, and a wooden railing at the front. I see dark openings leading into other spaces at the sides. But most of the balcony is boarded up with sheets of plywood.

  “We will never be on the same side,” the hidden voice declares. “You are here to destroy the wheel! To destroy our chance at eternal life. We know about your plans. We cannot let them happen.” The drones start chattering on cue, as they begin praying rapidly.

  Don’t they know that the Monk is dead? And that he wasn’t even a monk—that he was Minister Harka in disguise? David obviously hasn’t told them about any of that. There are more creaking noises above us.

  I look up as I suddenly realize something. I nudge Cass. “The balcony,” I whisper. “I think that’s where the voice is coming from.”

  We stare up at the balcony just in time to see a group of drones reach it on the catwalks. Everyone around me is looking up, too. The drones on the balcony ignite torches, which provide the shadowy space with warm, yellow light. I actually see the remains of the old organ, shattered and destroyed.

  Other drones begin moving sheets of plywood aside, revealing a black, cavernous hole behind them.

  And then, a figure steps out of the darkness, heading right to the front of the balcony.

  What I see makes my heart stop.

  I hear people around me gasp. Most of the drones near us are still praying. I feel Cass grip me for support.

  Standing there in the balcony is a figure I thought I would never see again. A person who died on the shore of an icy lake, right in front of my eyes. Its sneering wooden mask flashes in the torchlight, as the crowd murmurs in horror and recognition. Everyone knows exactly who this is.

  “Oh my god,” I breathe.

  The drones continue genuflecting in worshipful prayer, as everyone else looks at one another in terror.

  Standing there on the balcony, dressed in heavy black robes and a cowl, surrounded by armed drones, is the Monk.

  13MASKS

  I STARE UP AT the masked figure. “You’re dead,” I murmur to myself in disbelief. “I saw you die. . . .”

  But as I gaze at the figure, my initial shock quickly fades. This isn’t the Monk at all—at least not Minister Harka.

  This man isn’t confined to being carried. He is standing
there on his own two feet, like he’s younger and lither. The Monk couldn’t even walk, and could barely talk near the end. But this man has no trouble doing either of those things.

  “How is this possible?” Cass asks me, as the crowd noise grows louder. “You said he was dead!”

  “It’s someone else. Wearing the same mask.” Most of the drones probably don’t realize that their original Monk is dead. Or maybe there was always more than one Monk. Perhaps this is even one of the Monk’s body doubles. If Minister Harka had them back in the UNA, maybe he also had them here on the wheel.

  I eye the masked figure carefully. His voice isn’t familiar, but it’s being distorted and amplified. Perhaps deliberately, so that no one will recognize him. There must be a microphone hidden on him somewhere and speakers hidden in the balcony. For a moment I wonder if it’s Dr. Barrett in disguise, and that he’s the real traitor, but this figure is just too short to be him. A terrible thought occurs to me then:

  “Could it be—” I break off, not wanting to even say his name.

  “David?” Cass whispers softly.

  We squint up at the figure. It could be him, but I’m not certain. We’re too far away, and the mask and the robes obscure the wearer’s body. It also wouldn’t explain how we heard the Monk’s voice in the trees when David was among us—but maybe that voice was a recording. Anything is possible on the wheel.

  “Bring out the leader of the heathens,” the masked figure intones as we keep watching.

  At his words, a white-haired, shirtless old man is brought forth from the darkness on the balcony. He’s supported on either side by two drones. His head lolls downward to his chest, and I can tell he’s been badly beaten. His bearded face is bruised and marred with cuts. So are his chest and arms. I recognize him instantly.

  It’s Dr. Barrett.

  My heart leaps. If Dr. Barrett is here, then so is Liam! Perhaps even somewhere nearby.

  I stare around, trying to find him. I long to call out for him. To scream his name. But that would put both of us in extreme danger.

  “This is your leader?” the masked figure asks us rhetorically. “This sad excuse for a human? Ancient and forgotten. A man who placed science above belief.” He pauses. “This man treated faith like an infection to be stamped out. He was not satisfied with his own domain in the Antarctic, but came here trying to colonize our land.”

  “It’s not like that!” a scientist yells. “We’re here to save you!”

  “We are not the ones who need saving,” the Monk continues. His drones keep murmuring deranged mockeries of prayer under their breath. “You are.” He pauses again. I sense a cruel smile hiding behind the mask. “We are going to help you understand that, starting with Dr. Barrett.”

  The drones on the balcony bring Dr. Barrett forward. He struggles to speak, but he’s too exhausted and weak to say any words. I wonder how long they’ve been torturing him. I never expected to see Dr. Barrett so broken and frail like this. I wonder if they’ve tortured Liam as well. How could David stand to be a part of such cruelty?

  The drones press Dr. Barrett against the balcony railing. For a moment, I’m afraid that they’re going to toss him over the edge and into the crowd below. But then, a drone steps forward. A tall, thin boy. He holds up an object for everyone to see.

  It’s another mask. Glittering and metallic. There are holes for the eyes, but none for the mouth or nose. Then he turns it around. The inside of the mask has inch-long metal spikes embedded in it. They’re as sharp as knives.

  The drones in our midst begin to cheer. The noise is deafening and overwhelming. It’s the first time I’ve seen them display any kind of loud emotion. They pump their fists in the air as they shriek. But even now, there’s something programmatic about their actions. They’re more like automatons than human beings.

  “Put it on!” the Monk insists, his amplified voice loud and jagged over the noise of the mob. “Put it on!”

  The drone raises the mask. Dr. Barrett recoils, trying to shove the drone away. Other drones grab him from behind. Dr. Barrett opens his mouth to scream, but the crowd is so noisy now, I can’t even hear him.

  I get jostled from behind, as the throng starts moving. Drones are laughing and hollering, like they’ve gone insane. Finally releasing their pent-up madness and fury. At least this is closer to what I expected. Maybe now that the drones feel like they’ve won, they are free to act crazy again. Everyone else is screaming and yelling too, as the floor of the cathedral turns into a melee.

  As I duck a random elbow, I try to keep my eyes fixed on Dr. Barrett. The drone raises the mask even higher, right up to Dr. Barrett’s face. The old scientist writhes, trying to buckle away. But the drones are relentless.

  The drone holding the mask steps forward and presses it onto Dr. Barrett’s face as hard as he can. At the same instant, another drone behind Dr. Barrett latches the mask at the back, tightly. Dr. Barrett screams in absolute agony as the spikes enter his flesh. The mask is now locked onto his face.

  The drones on the balcony step away from him. Dr. Barrett claws at his face with trembling hands. Blood starts dripping down onto his chest.

  “This is not your land!” the Monk cries out over the commotion below. “You are invaders. Trespassers! If you wish to set foot on the wheel, then you must join us. We control each of the sectors now, and the gray zone too. There are no more villages. The blue sector is ours. The villagers are all dead!”

  With a sick feeling, I remember the threat that a drone once made to me. On my first day on the wheel. That the drones would soon overrun the entire island, and drive us villagers into the ocean. That threat, which once seemed impossible, has now become our reality.

  On the balcony, Dr. Barrett is struggling with his metal mask. But there’s no way for him to get it off. His blood continues to flow.

  “We offer the only path to escaping from the wheel,” the Monk continues. “Life after death. The wheel is a testing ground for the soul. Science has no place here.”

  Dr. Barrett sinks to one knee, staggering. Drones reappear and grab him by either arm. They pull him roughly back into the shadows. I doubt that he’ll survive much longer.

  “Forget your past. Forget your future plans. Forget who you are. Join us, and you will live forever,” the Monk declares. The army of drones begins to cheer again, in a monotonous roar. “Unless you join us, you will remain imprisoned here until you starve.”

  I turn to Cass. “We’re going to have to find Liam and anyone else we can, and then get the hell out of here!”

  Cass nods, but she’s looking dazed.

  “Cass?” I prompt.

  “Was I really like this?” she asks. “Was this what it was like when I was a drone?”

  “This is much worse,” I tell her honestly. “It must be some new kind of drug. And while Minister Harka was a total sham, I’m scared this new Monk actually believes what he’s saying!”

  I see Emma and Alun nearby. We’ve gotten separated from them by the crowd, but they’re slowly making their way back over to us without drawing attention to themselves. Everyone is moving and yelling.

  “Join us, and you can go free!” the Monk continues to decree from his perch high above us. I wish I could see his eyes through the mask, but the distance is too great. I don’t think it’s David—but I can no longer trust my own judgment about him.

  “We’ll never join you!” a nearby kid screams. It’s a former villager from Destiny Station. “I fought your kind before. I’ll fight them again!”

  Drones move forward and begin beating him. He falls down, lost in a sea of bodies.

  “We’d rather die than become like you,” someone else yells. It’s a bookish, middle-aged scientist with glasses. “What you’ve done here is as bad as the UNA! You have to listen to us. You must understand that—”

  The drones descend on him with their spears. The crowd surges again.

  I snap my head around, thinking that with this commotion, we can find an e
scape route. But the exit is heavily guarded, and the Monk and his drones are watching over everything from the balcony.

  Fingers suddenly brush against my arm. I yank my arm away, startled. I glance up to see a tall drone standing in front of me, dressed in black robes with a cowl hiding his face. He’s gripping a spear. I pull back in fear and anger.

  But when I look closer, I see that this man is much too old to be a drone. All of them are my age, or just a bit older, but this man is in his forties or early fifties. He’s handsome, with olive skin and kind, dark eyes. He looks oddly familiar. Cass is right there next to me, glaring at the man.

  “Alenna Shawcross?” the man asks me softly, keeping his head lowered so that no one close by can see his face.

  I nod.

  “Come with me.”

  “Who are you?”

  He doesn’t answer my question. “We’re not safe here. Follow me. I’ll take you to Liam.”

  My heart surges. “He’s alive? He’s okay?”

  The man nods. And right then I realize who this stranger must be.

  “You’re Octavio!” I whisper. “Liam’s dad.”

  He brings a finger to his lips. “Don’t say my name. Just follow.”

  He turns and quickly walks away through the crowd. Like he doesn’t want anyone to notice our interaction.

  Startled, I immediately head after him. Cass is just one step behind, trailed by Emma and Alun.

  “Did you hear?” I whisper to Cass, my chest bursting with happiness and relief. “Liam’s alive! That’s his dad!”

  “I heard. Does he know a way out of here?”

  “I hope so.”

  We keep walking. Octavio continues to keep his head down, waving his spear in the air. With his robes and his cowl, he manages to pass for one of the drones. No one challenges him. They must think we’re his prisoners.

  We continue pushing our way through the crowd. The Monk is still exhorting everyone to follow his ways, while his drones savagely beat anyone who calls out in opposition to him.