The Suns of Liberty (Book 3): Republic

by Michael Ivan Lowell

  Von Cyprus raised his eyebrows calmly.

  And zapped him.

  Rage crumpled to the floor in agony.

  Von Cyprus sneered. ‘I’m the second coming, the end is near, blah, blah, blah.’ Von Cyprus turned and motioned for the others to follow him. “Get your belongings ready, Rage. You’re coming with us.”

  “He is?” Ray whispered, eyes wide.

  Von Cyprus strode away, and Arbor shuffled to catch up to him. “What do you mean he is coming with us? Why the hell would we want him?” Arbor thought about the lack of telephones and the old-fashioned cash register he’d seen on the ground level. “I mean, I get all the Norman Rockwell technology now. But that lunatic in there is the most dangerous man in America. If you get him within a hundred yards of a CPU he’s gonna take it over. Brain-taser or not.”

  “A hundred yards? He’s got considerably better range than that,” Von Cyprus scoffed.

  “Doesn’t that concern you just a little bit, sweetheart?” Arbor barked.

  “On the contrary, my dear Colonel. I’m counting on it.”

  CHAPTER 16

  LAKE TAHOE, CALIFORNIA

  Becky Collins rinsed the dishes of their veggie remnants and shoved the plates into the dishwasher. She was relieved to be back at the cabin. She tired of spending so much time at the palace. She wished Fiona would stop spending so much time there too. She wished she didn’t feel the need to be there to look after her. To keep an eye on her.

  She wished, she wished...

  As she ran another plate under the water she caught a glimpse of Fiona outside the kitchen window. The emerald curtain of lush Ponderosa pines that ringed the rear half of her property served as Fiona’s backdrop. Becky stood there at the sink watching her. She was beautiful. The waning sun painted a soft golden glow on the girl’s naturally bronzed skin. Dancing shadows shifted across her face as she peered into the sky.

  The girl was in sweats and a T-shirt. She held one of the veil-poi, or voi as she often called them. Fiona had attached a small glowing ball of energy to the chain, just above the handle. In the brisk wind off the pines she was whipping the voi around her like a lasso.

  One more whip of the voi and it flared into luminescent power, the entire assembly from chain to veil glowing. And then she swung it again, and the veil and chain both elongated to an impossible length. They shot out across the expanse of trees and into the dense forest for as far as Becky could see.

  Becky winced. She expected that her beautiful forest scene was about to be reduced to burning twigs, but the voi passed right through them and retracted back to Fiona in the blink of an eye. She’d transformed the voi into pure light.

  That was close. She knew Fiona could turn it into a devastating weapon if she wanted. Fiona had become a little obsessed with the idea as of late.

  That’s when she noticed it.

  Fiona was grimacing. Becky had seen that look before. Becky unlatched the small window and raised it. “I thought the pain had gone away,” she called out to her. Her voice was far more accusatory than she had intended. Had she heard it on a recording she might not have recognized herself. Her emotions were closer to the surface than she’d realized. Maybe it was because, on some level, she liked to think that it was she who had made Fiona’s pain go away—the closeness of their relationship somehow.

  She was sure that her anger had shown in her face.

  Maybe Fiona was in pain and not telling her. Maybe Fiona wasn’t telling her a lot of things these days.

  The girl waved the comment away. “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing. I saw that look.” This time Becky’s voice sounded more authoritative, less angry. That was a relief. Better to sound like a nagging mother than a jealous lover.

  How had she let herself get to a point where that was her choice? Becky winced that uncomfortable question away. At least Fiona was eighteen now. It was so stupid to fall in love with someone more than half your age. No one needed to tell her that. She told it to herself with regularity. Then again, Fiona Fletcher wasn’t just someone.

  Fiona sighed, fessed up. “Those shard-thingies. It’s like they’re still in me sometimes. Muscle memory, maybe.”

  “I’m not sure it works that way.”

  Fiona shot her a knowing frown and transformed to light, teleporting right next to Becky in the kitchen. When she materialized back to human form she was naked, having left the sweats and tee to fall in place right where she had been standing on the lawn.

  “I’m fine,” she said and leaned in and kissed Becky on the lips. Her body was warm from the sun and soft—so soft. It was a passionate kiss, and for a moment they both were swept up in the rolling force of it. But then Fiona pulled away, her bubble gum flavor still sweet on Becky’s tongue. “Hold this for me, would ya,” she said, and Becky felt the voi drop into her hands.

  “Uh, sure,” and just like that Fiona turned and darted off toward her room, her words trailing behind her.

  “Gonna get dressed. Going to the palace.”

  Becky inwardly cursed herself for letting Fiona just walk away. The girl’s allure could be so powerful sometimes. And now she carried a confidence that was intimidating, even to Becky.

  When Fiona returned to the kitchen, Becky was sitting at the table. She emerged wearing one of her dance costumes. A bra top and a skirt of green and gold. The top was a brilliant deep emerald with elegant gold coins dangling in layers atop swirling gold patterns sewn into the fabric. Her flowing split-circle skirt nearly reached the floor and accentuated her long, tan legs that poked through on the sides as she moved. She looked stunning to Becky, but the psychology major stuck to her guns.

  “Fiona, before you go we need to talk.”

  Fiona gave her a double take, obviously recognizing Becky’s look and tone. “Uh-oh. Please no mama-bear-lover talk tonight. I’ve got troupe practice in a few minutes.”

  “That’s exactly what I want to talk to you about.” Becky gave her the sternest look she could give without seeming to be pissed.

  Fiona’s shoulders fell as she relented, and Becky breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Alrighty then. Talk away.”

  “I need you to listen, Fiona. It doesn’t help me to talk if you don’t listen.”

  Fiona pointed at her ears. “See these? They’re in full walky-talky mode.”

  “These practices of yours...”

  “What about them?”

  “They seem a hell of a lot more like something else.” Becky bore right into her eyes. “Like basic training.”

  Fiona’s face washed serious. “They are like basic training,” she said casually. But as her eyes met Becky’s still-grave expression, she darkened. “They have to be ready. We’re on everyone’s radar now. And the Council’s come after me twice.”

  “Here’s the thing, honey. For someone who felt like she was used, led on, and ultimately tricked by her mentor, that stunt you pulled the other night in the palace sure seemed pretty abusive, if you ask me.”

  Fiona’s face popped like a deer in headlights. Then her eyes seemed to narrow. “No one asked you.” Fiona rose to leave.

  “Fiona, don’t do this. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

  The teenager turned her back to her. Becky could tell she was eyeing the front door. For a moment she feared she would just flash away. But the costume she was wearing was one of her favorites. “There’s nothing going on.”

  She’d said it like she knew the thing that was really on Becky’s mind. So much so, Becky decided to stop denying it herself and just come out with it.

  “Not even with Diana?”

  “Her name is Arcadia.”

  “No, it isn’t. It’s Diana.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Fiona, what’s going on with her? Turn around and look at me.”

  Fiona turned. Tears danced on her eyelids. Becky felt a lump grow in her throat. “She’s just a friend. I’ve never had friends.” A tear broke loose and streaked dow
n Fiona’s cheek.

  Becky rose from her chair, and Fiona hugged her immediately. The girl was shaking. “It’s okay,” Becky whispered to her.

  Fiona inched away softly, her resolve seemingly returned. “You don’t need to worry. I have it under control. But they have to be ready. Something’s coming. I know it is. They won’t leave me alone. They won’t leave us alone. I can’t be everywhere at once.”

  “Just don’t block me out, honey. You can’t fight the good fight all alone.”

  For some reason that made Fiona chuckle, and she wiped her eyes. “Duh! That’s the reason for the Luma.” She smiled.

  “Luma?” Becky was completely confused now. She had no idea what the hell a Luma was.

  “You know, the troupe. I’m calling them the Luma.”

  “I thought they were dancers,” Becky teased.

  “Dancers that kick ass.” Fiona made a long stride toward Becky, and the two embraced in a long, deep kiss, their bodies melting together. “I love you. Don’t forget that.” She turned, and in seconds she was out the door.

  Why would I forget it? Becky wondered, the thought somehow unsettling her all over again.

  Becky stepped to the front window and eyed Fiona’s drive down the winding rustic roadway until the black pickup—Becky’s black pickup—disappeared over the hill. She trudged back toward the kitchen and realized that she was still holding the voi.

  Becky examined the odd thing. A silk veil wrapped around a tennis ball, attached to a long chain that was itself attached to a black plastic handle. That was your standard veil poi. Becky had seen them before. But this one had a modification. Fiona had attached a small orb of energy around it, and she’d encased the orb in some kind of glass.

  Becky figured it had to be the same kind of glass that the Fire Fly chamber in Boston had been made out of. The chamber that had given her the powers she now possessed. Fiona talked about that chamber a lot.

  How had Fiona come to own such material? How had she shaped it into a perfectly fitting sphere to contain the orb of energy? Becky had no answers to either question. But it was hardly surprising. The girl could teleport to the other side of the world in a couple of seconds anytime she wanted. And she’d built an entire mini-palace out of nothing but the pink and brown granite of the Sierra Nevada with her bare hands.

  Becky stared at the voi and its strange glowing orb of energy. It was like a super-powered lava lamp. She thought she could stare at it for hours if she let herself. Fire Fly energy—Fiona’s energy—glowed and swirled inside it. She was literally holding a piece of Fiona in her hand. She lifted her head toward the window. A thought crossed her mind.

  Becky couldn’t help it. She soon found herself outside in the same spot Fiona had been in earlier, the girl’s discarded clothing at her feet. She twirled the voi above her head in a circle, waiting for the energy to spark—but nothing happened. She had half a mind to count her blessings and go back inside, but her curiosity wouldn’t let go. She tried again.

  Still nothing.

  What’s wrong with this damn thing?

  She studied it more carefully. At the very tip of the black handle, close to where her thumb was resting, was a very small button she had not noticed before.

  Becky took a deep breath, twirled the voi, and pressed the button.

  The veil ignited in energy.

  It traveled down the chain, and it was everything she could do to still hold onto the device, but hold she did. It sliced straight through the trees around her and narrowly missed the cabin itself. She clicked the button again, and the energy faded. The veil lightly flittered to the ground.

  “Ha!” Becky cackled with laughter. That was fricking cool!

  What was not cool was that she had just done what she had feared Fiona would do: hack off the branches of her beautiful Ponderosa pine trees. Oh well, they needed trimming.

  That’s what she would tell Fiona if she asked, anyway. Chances were the girl would never even notice.

  And besides, this damn thing was fricking cool!

  And it wasn’t so hard! She bristled at the sudden memory of Fiona making such a big hairy deal of Arcadia dancing with the voi at the palace. Becky had very good balance. She was an excellent tennis player, runner, and rock climber. She could do this.

  Becky peered back down at the voi and chuckled to herself.

  There was a field just up the road, and there was a motorcycle in her shed. Becky grinned, stuffed the handle of the voi into her hip pocket, and headed inside to get the keys.

  CHAPTER 17

  BOEING CH-47 CHINOOK

  NEVADA AIR SPACE

  Clay Arbor approached the glass cage.

  It was shaped like a cube.

  Inside was an unconscious Kiernan Rage. He lay on a single mattress.

  It was plopped unceremoniously in the middle of the helicopter’s cargo bay, right between the long rows of seats. Old-man Rage was like a zoo animal on display.

  As Arbor got closer he could see the entire glass cube was covered in a grid of very small, fine wires.

  Von Cyprus approached him, smiling. “You see? The good Doctor Rage is now our good Doctor Rage.”

  “Yeah, and what happens if Cinderella here wakes up?”

  “I think you mean Sleeping Beauty…and nothing.” Von Cyprus motioned to the glass enclosure. “This is a kind of Faraday cage that keeps his brainwaves trapped.”

  Arbor looked dubious. “I don’t know what a ‘fair day’ cage is.”

  “Faraday,” Von Cyprus corrected. He paused like he was about to launch into some long-winded explanation, but then seemed to think better of it. “Doesn’t matter. It was developed from an alloy of the material that the Fire Fly chamber is built out of.”

  Arbor was unimpressed.

  “You see, I’ve been studying him a long time. His great abilities are gamma waves. He projects them. The Neural Transmitter that has wormed its way into his cerebellum, giving him all his power, is just as inaccessible to him as yours is to you, or mine is to me. But of course, his does more than just turn on the lights,” Von Cyprus chuckled, lost in his thoughts.

  “Yeah it turns on all the lights and makes ‘em kill everybody.”

  “The point is,” Von Cyprus snapped, “my inhibitor chip is beyond his reach.”

  It had always creeped Arbor out to think about the chips that Compatibles like Rage had in their heads. Unlike those of normal people, a Compatible’s Neural Transmitter literally grew into the living tissue of his brain. The ability to withstand that was one of the many things that set the Compatibles apart from normal people.

  “So what you’re saying is that the only machine he can’t control is the one inside his own head?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Wait a minute. This guy used to control an army of followers. Wasn’t that mind control he was using?”

  Von Cyprus arched his eyebrows. “The Army of Rage. Yes, it was, but that’s because the Neural Transmitters he implanted in his terrorist soldiers were different. They were built to receive. No one in their right mind would willingly let someone else hack their brain. They did.”

  But Arbor was more concerned about what the Doctor could do outside his head, so he tried again, motioning back toward the glass enclosure. “And you’re saying you can block him with these things?”

  “Not exactly. At least not yet. Oh, we could wrap every important building in giant glass cages,” he said, pointing to the Faraday cage, “if we could afford that or had enough of the material. Then, certainly, we could block him. But that’s not realistic.”

  Arbor shook his head. Cash was always the issue. “It’s still a mistake to set him free. He may be way off his fucking rocker, but that lunatic is the single most dangerous man I’ve ever faced. It’s a monumental fuck-all risk you’re taking.”

  Von Cyprus dismissed the warning with a wave. “All will be revealed in good time.” He peered up at the roof of the Chinook and seemed dreamy for a moment. “The new Leg
ion is going to be stronger than you can even imagine,” he said dramatically.

  The Legion. Arbor glared at the scientist. “Tell me, Von Cyprus, how’d you get Tarleton to be in your corner? Everybody knows he ain’t exactly got the Easter Bunny for a personality. So just how’d you do it?”

  Von Cyprus paused, seemed to consider giving Arbor a serious answer. But then he grinned. “Jealous, are we, Colonel?” The scientist chuckled. “Oh, I understand perfectly. The Legion was yours. Now it’s mine. But the chairman wouldn’t want us to let petty jealousies get in the way of progress, would he?”

  Arbor scoffed. “My questions stopping you from doing anything?”

  “No, of course not, but the chairman wants results. He wants to know that he can count on us in the field. No matter who is, or who is not, in charge.”

  Arbor shook his head and grinned. “My Legion helped people. Did some real hero shit. That what we’re gonna do?”

  Von Cyprus smirked. “Stopping the Resistance, is that not heroic enough for you these days, Colonel?” he said, raising an accusatory eyebrow.

  And walked away.

  Arbor glanced over at Ray, who’d been listening in on the whole thing, and huffed. The big man strolled over to Ray and plopped down next to him in the cargo seats. “That guy’s an asshole.”

  “That guy’s the boss now,” Ray said flatly.

  “Where the hell do you think he’s taking us?”

  “I know exactly where he’s taking us. Anywhere he damn well pleases.”

  Arbor could feel Ray giving him the cold shoulder, so he turned away from him and stared out the window at the desert passing by below.

  The flight took an hour and a half.

  They set down outside a massive facility of steel and concrete. The only windows in the building were on the top floor. Nothing but miles of desert all around. Too few cars sat in the parking lot for the number of people it must have taken to run this place. He figured that somewhere there was a concealed parking area. Anonymity for the employees.