The Suns of Liberty (Book 3): Republic

by Michael Ivan Lowell

  Ward was still injecting the nanobots. “I hope so. This is all so new. CRT is supposed to regrow injured cells, bone, tissue in general. I’m hoping these little buggers will help your severed nerve endings talk to the leg’s CPU. If so…”

  “If so, you’re gonna make billions when this is all over,” Drayger laughed.

  Ward popped his head up. “I actually hadn’t thought about that.”

  “You’d be the first in the States to practice with this stuff, right?”

  “Right.” Ward was still thinking about the possibilities.

  “Man, the Council has got to go. Each one of us has about a billion reasons to see those guys bite the dust.”

  “Well, yeah, I guess that’s true. None of us really ever talks about that. It’s pretty much ‘salute the flag, recite oath’ around this place.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know,” Drayger said, like he was trying to calm Ward down, but Ward was already calm. “I get that, of course. But do you really think that’s the main reason they’re here. I mean, you, me, Rachel, Sophia. Hell, even Lantern. With the things we’ve invented, we could all be making gazillions if it weren’t for the Council. Rich guy like you, I know you’ve thought of that.”

  Drayger was right, of course. Ward had thought of that. Many times. His engines for transportation. His serums for the police and military. There was a supertanker full of money to be made some day. But he’d never considered it his main reason for fighting, let alone the motive of the other, more committed members of the Resistance.

  “I think you’re overstating their financial motives. Most of them have lost a lot more than just dollars to the Council.

  “Yeah,” Drayger said, laying back down on his side, no longer concerned with the little monsters entering his skin. “They’ve lost billions of them.”

  RECOVERY WING

  Revolution was letting Spectral have his space. But Daniel Bryant was not going to give in easily.

 

  “Great. And like I already told you, I think of it as two shattered legs. So there wasn’t nothing friendly about it.”

 

  The man nodded his head reluctantly. “Five years is still a long time…”

 

  The bot was getting good. His big move was coming up. Revolution couldn’t help but be nervous for him.

  Spectral held out his hand, palm up, and a holographic recording of the man’s six-year-old daughter burned to life in the air above him. Spectral’s voice could be heard in the background of the recording.

  Spectral’s voice said.

  “Hi, Daddy! I miss you very, very much!”

  Big round tears formed immediately on the man’s eyelids and began to roll.

  Revolution opened the door and stepped out. As he marched back into the hall he could hear the little girl’s sing-songy voice echoing off the walls of the room and the man’s soft weeps of joy calling back in response.

  It was a thoughtful gesture on the part of the android. It took an understanding of human emotion to plan this out. Maybe Scarlett coached him. Or maybe, just maybe, Joseph Kee was lurking somewhere in the android’s consciousness. It was an intriguing possibility. One the Revolution hoped to exploit to his advantage.

  CHAPTER 21

  ERIC VON CYPRUS

  LIVING QUARTERS

  Clay Arbor entered the large luxury suite and closed the door gently.

  The living room was circular. Half the room was wrapped in large floor-to-ceiling windows reflecting a spectacular mountain view of the surrounding countryside. A wrap-around deck encircled the room. The pale rock peaks of mountains loomed in the distance, illuminated by the setting sun. Outside, staring out across the pine-dotted, snow-swept vista, stood Eric Von Cyprus.

  His entire body radiated: pensive.

  Arbor snorted a chuckle, cracked all his knuckles, and approached the large sliding door closest to where the scientist had settled. As Arbor slipped out into the brisk wind, Von Cyprus half turned his head toward him but then returned his gaze to the scene. Arbor joined him at the railing and scanned the mountainous beauty for himself.

  “My father died in these mountains,” Von Cyprus said.

  Arbor said nothing.

  “Spectacular colors in the fall. They span eleven counties. They’re so immense you can get lost in their grandeur forever.”

  Arbor pulled out a smoke but then thought better of it and stuffed it back in his shirt. He retrieved a stick of gum.

  “Yeah, a lot of people make those kinds of mistakes.”

  Von Cyprus smirked. “Come to gloat?”

  Yes. “I’ve come to know what the plan is.”

  Von Cyprus turned slowly to face him, suspicion plastered all over his face. He raised his hand, revealing a small remote, and clicked a button.

  The virtual reality simulation of the San Isabel National Forest faded to a dull concrete wall of bricks. This was one of Von Cyprus’s favorite homemade features of his suite at this research facility in Trenton, NJ. He had it activated almost every time Arbor had ever been here.

  The simulated wind died down to nothing.

  The two men faced each other.

  “Really?” Von Cyprus said, raising a conspiratorial eyebrow. “You’re just ready to join back up? I expected...some resistance.”

  Arbor smirked. “Where’s little Johnny Sokko and his Flying Robot now?”

  Von Cyprus frowned. “You’re worried they’re going to escape.”

  “They’re both fucked in the head. Both think saving the world means killing every living person on this planet. So, yeah, it’s crossed my mind.”

  “They’re both here, in Trenton,” the scientist explained. “Deactivated.”

  “Dead?” Arbor said, hope rising in his voice. “Did you kill them?”

  “Asleep,” Von Cyprus grinned. “The Doctor gains more control over the Aztech every day, and I over him. The initial test was messy, I’ll grant you. But it did work. Once the hive mind activates neither the good Doctor or the machine will be able to resist our control.”

  Arbor shook his head. “It’s been three days, Eric. Three days since the Terminator sliced and diced your best and brightest. And Captain Moon Beam shit himself with joy the whole time, so tell me something more than that crazy fuckwad’s gaining more control. ‘Cause from where I’m standing that ain’t such a compelling argument!”

  “Colonel, do you want me to tell you that if the time comes, I won’t hesitate to blast them both back to oblivion?” He tapped the electrosleeves that were peeking out from under his shirt sleeve.

  “Be a start, sweetheart.”

  “That’s the worst case scenario.”

  “Jesus, Eric. Every scenario’s a worst case with those two. You’ve got the magic cufflinks. What do you need them for anyway? Can’t those sleeves do the job?”

  “Yes, theoretically. But it takes enormous energy to power them. They and the Photuris are built for one reason. Fiona Fletcher. The others will take care of the rest,” Von Cyprus spat emphatically.

  “Kiernan Rage belongs in an electric chair, and that damn machine needs a couple of nukes shoved up its ass!”

  Von Cyprus snorted. “You may be right, Colonel.” Von Cyprus headed inside, and Arbor followed him. They traversed the large, sparse ultra-modern living area. “But none of that changes the fact that we have our orders.”

  “I know I’m right,” Arbor exclaimed. “Look, the Legion is yours now, so y
ou have fun with that. Let me lead the New York phase of this thing. I can handle the kid. I want to.”

  Von Cyprus pursed his lips. “I’m not sure that’s the best use of your talents, Lithium. A lot of research still has to be done. There may be nothing there.”

  “I can get the intel. I know those networks,” Arbor said, rubbing some soreness out of his chest. “Punks tend to talk when you’re standing on their throats. I’m good at that.”

  “Don’t let this get personal.” Von Cyprus entered his swanky kitchen and poured himself a drink. Offered one to Arbor.

  The big man shook his head. “I won’t.”

  NORRISTOWN, PA

  Weeks passed. The injured focused on getting healthy. The healthy focused on upgrading their skills, weapons, or intel. The media firestorm over Vice President Lee’s speech subsided, even as the Orbs continued to bring free renewable energy to thousands of homes in Boston and Philadelphia. Even Media Corp could not refrain from giving the situation some coverage. What the Suns could not achieve on the battlefield, Leslie, COR, and the vice president were achieving on the streets. Rallies broke out all over the country, demanding free energy from the Council. Each day the mostly peaceful protests seemed to grow.

  Pressure was building.

  And Lantern, as always, stayed on watch.

  Revolution entered the makeshift Sit Room with Ward in tow. It was actually the main communications hub of the building. It was scarcely big enough, jammed floor to ceiling with computers, monitors, and communications devices of every sort—walls of electronics encircled them—but it was the most secure and technically capable room the Norristown facility had. The glow of shifting hues danced over everyone’s faces from all the screens.

  “I’m telling you,” Ward said as they entered, “it’s possible to bind the CRT molecules to the suit. It should increase the vibration resistance during impacts. No more puréed tomato—” Ward silenced himself when he saw Leslie on holocom and Spectral and Lady Rage standing over Lantern’s shoulders staring at his screens. Their heads all popped up when the pair entered.

  Lantern waved them over.

  “What did you find?” Revolution asked.

  Lantern pointed to the Eastern seaboard, which was displayed in real time on the screens. Red dots were spread throughout from Maine to Florida and everywhere in between. Lantern pointed to the dots. “Increase in Guard movement.”

  Revolution leaned in to see. “Movement? What kind?”

  “Some of it is just com chatter...”

  “But most of it, actual mobilization,” Revolution said, completing Lantern’s thought.

  Lantern nodded.

  “Like for an invasion,” Leslie added.

  “What about the rest of the country?” Revolution asked.

  “Its continent wide.” Lantern brought up the West Coast. Same thing. The dots were more spread out, given the wider distribution of population centers, but Revolution could tell it was a similar level of activity.

  “It’s a total mobilization.” On screen, Leslie looked grim.

  Revolution flexed his hand and felt the muscles and servos respond as one. He was finally feeling healed and restored. His armor was repaired and back to normal. It had surprised him just how long it had taken to bounce back from his injuries, not to mention the near-death state Scarlett had put him into. Somehow it had interfered with the delicate balance between man and machine that James Scott had so carefully crafted when he had created the cyborg everyone now knew as the Revolution. The lingering effects were a lack of energy and occasionally a lack of focus. He hoped that was now a thing of the past. Now, more than ever, he needed them to be.

  “They’re preparing to fight. We must as well,” Revolution said, giving Scarlett and Spectral a pointed glare.

  Scarlett glanced away from his gaze, crimson staining her cheeks. The android, brilliant red and green fractals swirling just under its artificial skin, showed no reaction at all. As usual.

  “Leslie, could this be a response to the Europeans?” Revolution asked.

  Leslie nodded from the holocom. “Possibly. We know that the Council is feeling great pressure from them. They’ve already threatened to cut off the Council’s funding source.

  “Speaking of that, our finances are still paper thin,” Revolution pointed out.

  “Yes, but I’m confident the Europeans will fund our operations soon. And our luminescent Orbs continue to help thousands of Minutemen families in Boston and Philadelphia. Word is getting out around the country despite Tarleton’s best efforts to contain it.”

  Ward smiled. “Those Europeans are pretty awesome. Thanks to them we’ve made great strides health-wise. Their CRT therapy has worked wonders, and I think we should be ready to leave this infernal place within a week. If not, I’m gonna start spiking the water with Serenity serum, I’m just warning you now.”

  Revolution shook his head.

  “Kidding. But not about the health stuff. If your skin is crawling right now...that’s because it is. With nanobots.”

  Leslie broke in with a chuckle. “The Council’s stocks continue to fall, and their hold on the economy weakens every day—with the exception of General Defense. And that’s likely to make Tarleton both bolder and more desperate. He thinks the three of you are dead,” she said, pointing to Revolution, Spectral, and Scarlett. “But he’ll undoubtedly be coming after the rest.”

  Revolution nodded. “Which is why we need to develop our own plan of attack. We cannot let Tarleton control the board.”

  Scarlett stepped toward Revolution, her eyes glowing with excitement. “We think we may have information you’ll find useful in that regard. And,” she added quickly, “having given it, hope you’ll consider it our…rent.”

  Revolution was intrigued. Scarlett had been anything but forthcoming during her weeks with them. But now she seemed eager to share whatever this was. Her eyes were wide; she leaned forward, fingers clutched together. He held up a hand to pause her for a moment.

  “Helius, would you come to the Sit Room, please,” Revolution said into the Com. His second in command needed to hear this information as well, so he kept his Com open to her. She was just in the next room, so he nodded to Scarlett. “Go ahead.”

  “Spectral intercepted a note that the Council is building some kind of remote control devices for its drones.” Scarlett glanced back at the android. “If we can find them, we think they might make an attractive target. Limited operation, limited casualties.”

  “Thanks, but we’re not going back to Freedom Rise,” Sophia said flatly as she entered the room.

  The android shook its head like a human.

  Ward smirked. “Call me old fashioned, but I like to know where the secret base is before I go and attack it.”

  “How many sites?” Lantern asked.

 

  Revolution noticed something in Lantern’s tone and body language. The Locator stiffened—a sign he was working intensely inside his helmet “What is it?” Revolution asked him.

  “I found digital anomalies coming from these locations.” Lantern nodded his head slightly, and a hologram-map of the locations beamed to life above them. Even Leslie could see it.

  On the floating screen, three targets glowed to life in digital red. One in north eastern Florida, a second in rural southern California, and a third just outside Washington, D.C.

  “The signals don’t seem to be targeted anywhere. They showed up first as interference. They were invisible, even in the digi-sphere.”

  “So they’re shielded?” Leslie said from the hologram.

  “Yes. I’d assumed they were communication signals. If I change the algorithm to reflect...”

  Lantern typed feverishly on his RDSD and at the same time seemed to be remotely worki
ng inside his helmet—moving his head back and forth, up and down, in small movements as he scanned through dozens of settings. The man had an unparalleled ability to multitask, so none of it was surprising to the team. Though Scarlett looked like she was checking to make sure he wasn’t about to go into a convulsion of some kind.

  “He’s fine,” Ward said. “Thinks he’s Stevie Wonder, but he’s fine.”

  Scarlett grimaced. “Who’s Stevie Wonder?”

  “They looked like beacons,” Lantern explained. “Made no sense. They wouldn’t advertise their locations...”

  A series of quickly shifting and morphing holograms burned to life in the air in front of the Locator as if he were surfing the channels on a television.

  In a way he was.

  This went on a while.

  “While we have a moment,” Ward interjected, “I hate to mention the elephant in the room…”

  All eyes turned on Ward, except Lantern’s, of course.

  Scarlett seemed wary of what he was going to say. Ward grinned at her discomfort. What did she think he was going to say, he wondered. “Because really, who likes an elephant in a room? I mean how did it get in the room in the first place? How will you get him out? Elephants are big, smart, and they cost a lot to feed—”

  Scarlett chuckled, then dropped a poker face.

  Ward was just getting started.

  “Paul…” Revolution sighed, cutting off his stand-up routine.

  Ward nodded. “Right. Well, the elephant being...why aren’t we trying to contact Fiona? She’s saved our asses twice now. She could end this all with her little pinky.”

  “We have tried to contact her, trust me,” Leslie said. “She’s not biting.”

  “That bites,” Ward whispered.

  “She still wants nothing to do with us,” Revolution said darkly.

  Finally, the channels faded away, and Lantern sent the signal to the room’s main screen.