Rebirth (Rebel Wars Book 2)

by Michael Andrews

  “Thank you for your message my lady.” Reinholdt said, escorting her out of the room and sealing the door shut. Azhulhand noticed, but only just, that she walked with a bit more of a wiggle than was necessary. He almost spit at the site, she was liable to get plenty of attention aboard this ship, but not from him.

  “I apologize for silencing you.” Reinholdt said. “I just couldn’t stand to hear another word from that bag of wind. I simply cannot stand upstarts like that. Darvin technically does outrank us in civil matters, but not in military ones. Do you think that abandoning the planet now is a wise move? We’ve evaluated most of the surface, but they rebuild. We’ve tried interrogation, but once they expire from their corporeal form we can’t reach them anymore. So HQ is intent on the fact that we are missing something about this weapon here, and they’ve stated that the process of DNA manipulation is impossible without it. Maybe if we leave now, we’ll miss something.” Reinholdt reasoned.

  “Perhaps. I just don’t see why we can’t just have you crack that egg open with the Glaive. I’m certain it won’t heal from such judgement.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair.

  “Of course, I don’t think anything can survive a full assault from our ship.” Reinholdt placed his hands on the back of a different chair, thinking deeply.

  “So. You advise against leaving? You want to double up and check another part of the planet for the ninth time? I say we take the fleet to Darvin and make him lick our boots clean.”

  “You would say that.” Reinholdt chuckled despite himself. He massaged his temples with his white-gloved hands. “Actually. That may not be a bad idea if HQ has gone offline. Think about it. If Darvin is making a power grab, then I’d rather put him in his place now before he decides to yank the battlegroup out from under us. We’d be far more efficient at quashing the angry children if we didn’t have to deal with insurrection from our own Commanders!”

  Azshulhand nodded in agreement and thumbed open a vid-screen that projected onto the main wall in front of them. He cycled through a few intelligence reports on the planet, frustration causing him to look at the same reports he’d viewed over a thousand times already. As he was scrolling, Reinholdt interrupted him and took the controls without a word. Azhulhand pushed his chair back to give the Fleet Commander more room to work, curious what he might have seen. The man smiled softly and zoomed in on an isolated spot in the heart of the forests, typing a set of commands into the processor without pausing for a moment to think. This was impressive to Azhulhand, but he supposed that the deft method he dispatched a Rebellion Officer in combat impressed Reinholdt. The program Reinholdt wrote from scratch began to execute and make it clear what the man was searching for.

  “Notice the signatures?” He said, drawing Azhulhand’s attention to the time-lapsing video and photographs that lit up the screen. “I’ve written a program to hone in on that spot and to correspond it with before and after photographs in response to battles. If you look, every time a significant number of their men are killed, that area lights up with energy signatures.”

  “Hmm. So? You think that’s where they go when their skins are killed?” Azhulhand said, interested now.

  “I think more than that, I think they’ve got something hiding there that we can’t see. Because we’re not-“

  “Metaphysical.” Azhulhand finished for his comrade. “You’re right! Set the orders for five hours, I want to get some sleep and reflect. I’ll need 40 men and as much air-cover as you can provide. See if you can locate Jin. I have a good feeling that rat bastard skin-walker is stationed there.” He stood up with abrupt speed, startling the Fleet Commander. Azhulhand was livid, not at the snobby woman who was now within their ship, but at the simple fact that it never occurred to him that what they were looking for was metaphysical and not corporeal. HQ had it on good authority what they needed to fight the Calamity and the forces of death that it would bring was here on this planet, and it had taken them near treasonous amounts of time to figure that out. Reinholdt nodded, and left the room without as much as another word. He knew better than to get into the Battlegroup Commander’s way when he was in such a mood. Azhulhand let himself relax and curled his lips into a half-smile, perhaps he would get to participate in the Blood Hunt after-all.

  Chapter 5

  The end of the road was always the hardest for a being to accept, Alice mused. She wondered if Alex had ever considered that he was going to die, in her memories he was an immortal icon of rebellion and life. His statue bore no signs of aging in the memorial forest of the Tower and some part of Alice hoped that it never would. She couldn’t fight the problems within her mind, the circuits that were burning themselves out with desperation to keep her “alive”. She could hear the sounds of melodic guitar playing not far from her, a man with unkempt long hair strumming a few chords over another grave. She saw him weep as he strummed unable to do the same. She missed the sadness, she concluded. She missed the rage, the crying, the desperation and laughter of life. Whatever form of existence she was currently engaged in, she doubted it could be considered life.

  Project had repaired the physical damage to her metallic body and upgraded some of the joints with a new alloy they’d created to make her able to achieve greater limits of flexibility. There wasn’t anything scheduled for her future that would make her believe she was anything else than a killing machine that could think for herself. She didn’t even know why she was even perched in the trees next to the memorial for her dead husband, only that it seemed like it was the right thing to do. Her crew was being assembled and soon they would all be kicking off of Tower and headed towards a planet, a new species they had never met. That should be exciting, but she wasn’t excited. Something in her head seemed off, and the world around her lacked the color and depth it should. Project had told her that she’d slowly stop processing her sight with human perspective and everything would eventually seem like nothing but flat data. She didn’t want that to happen, but what was she able to do about it? The A.I. had told her there wasn’t anything that could be done. Her mind was slipping into an untold oblivion, and her grip was weakening.

  Bursts of color filled her “vision” and she stumbled backwards, falling from the tree and smashing into the ground below. She struggled to stand, but all of her motor circuits froze and rooted her to the spot. The face of a young woman flashed in front of her sensors, strawberry blonde hair that dropped below her shoulders. Her face was human, but something ghostly about features put Alice off. Her teeth were sharpened like fangs and filled her mouth beyond counting, eyes like staring into the grave stared back at her. The woman’s laugh was also a scream and managed to chill Alice regardless of what emotions she could and couldn’t feel. The data spikes in her mental programs increased a hundred fold, stressing out her mechanical body to the point of collapsing. She watched helplessly as the woman reached her hand out towards Alice.

  “Help me!” She screamed, and vanished from Alice’s “vision” releasing her from the prison of her metallic form. The circuits cleared up and Alice came to life, standing up and spinning around to see if anyone was near her. The man playing the guitar looked up at her with fresh tears in his face, unsure of who or what he was looking at.

  “Um..you ok?” He said, his fingers continuing to dance along the strings. “The song is old as dirt, I know. But still holds a lot of meaning. It’s been redone more than any song in history I think. I’m sorry if I bothered you.” He stopped strumming on the guitar and looked down as if filled with shame. Alice approached him and shook her head, placing her hand on his shoulder. The cold touch caused him to jolt upwards, afraid at first.

  “Don’t be afraid. I know I’m not…normal. But your music is fine, it wasn’t that. I saw something, a woman with blonde hair and a weird smile. Did you see her?” Alice said.

  “Your voice, is it coming from speakers?” He said, wide-eyed.

  “Well yes, I’m not…look that’s not important. Can you help me?”

 
“Woman? No..I it’s just been me and you hasn’t it?” He shook his head.

  “Thanks.” Alice said, turning on her heels to leave. “Also, you should keep playing that song. It’s a good one, in my life I was a fan of Cash too. Not many people remember the original artist’s name.” She dug into the ground with her metallic feet and sped off away from the forest, she had to get to Project and fast. She’d never had visions in life and couldn’t relate to having them now, something was off with her programming and she needed to be in tip-top shape before her mission or the wrong people would end up dying and it would be on her. She had just had a diagnostic not long before, so for Project to have missed something so dire and wrong was an anomaly she couldn’t afford to live with.

  “Project, come in. This is Alice.” She said over the communication array linked into her systems.

  “Yes Alice, I can’t not know who you are. Silly.” Project said in his harmonious and devious tone.

  “Something’s wrong, there was a massive irregularity on my visual channels, I don’t know what happened but you missed something.”

  “Listen, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to: but I don’t miss things.” Project said, almost as if he were offended.

  “I’m coming in to see you.”

  “Ok, when?”

  “Now.”

  She had managed the word right before she emerged through the doors to Project’s lab, the various safe-guards being overridden before she’d even arrived. She didn’t have time to mess around, and with some of the advanced logic gear she’d been given there was no reason not to use it to speed-up the process. Project wasted no words nor time, prepared for her as she stepped into the diagnostic chamber. Metal rods and cords attached themselves to her various data-ports and began the download of information.

  “Your system suffered an overload, some sort of…I don’t want to call it an attack but there is definitely a corruption of data Alice.” He said, managing to show some concern in his usually lyrical voice.

  “So what does that mean?” She said through the attachments to his computers

  “It means that you’re not fit to go anywhere dangerous. In fact, your entire system may be shutting down if we don’t do something.”

  “Can you patch it?”

  “For a moment, yes.”

  “Good, then patch it and let me be on my way. I have to go!” Alice pleaded.

  “That may be true, but you can’t go anywhere without me. If this happens again and I’m not there, you could be destroyed for good this time.” Before Alice could protest she felt a pulse of energy enter her body, the drone’s body freezing up similar to how it did in the forest. A heavy weight entered her body and left almost as soon as it entered.

  “What the hell Project?” Alice said.

  “Sorry about that, I should have known there wouldn’t be room for both of us in that body.” He mused.

  “This body is barely running with just me in it.” She said, the glass tube that held her withdrew and released her from the tangle of wires that had been embedded moments before.

  “Well. I just received multiple answers that I will not be allowed to go with you. I applied a patch that will last, at least I hope so, but without me near you...Look I’m going to see if I can reason with the powers that be. You may not care much, but I can’t afford to have Cydrak to be your last stop.” Project said. His alive was abuzz with activity, drones and scientists moving throughout the lab like overexcited atoms bouncing around. She remarked to herself that so much was going on here, no wonder they didn’t like Project leaving. It was possible he could partition himself off to give her another version of him to travel with, but last time they’d tried that it ended with disaster and her death. She started to walk out of the lab, intent on spending her time in attempting to understand the vision she had witnessed. Project keyed his mic to denote a subtle “goodbye” as she left. She felt focused and indestructible, her emotional sensations no longer present. How long could that last?

  Alice’s form was but a shadow, every step calculated and cautious in the darkness of the temporary night. Burdens were lifted and she could finally be free to emerge as the powerful and sentient artificial creature she was, that is what she was right? Throughout the hours remaining before they left, there was so much she could accomplish and do. She found herself studying the Library once more, this time cross-referencing the wealth of information that was held within the databases of the Tower. This was information she was not allowed access to, but embracing her machine side had the benefits of making her not care and intelligent enough to break down the paltry security measures they employed. Expert human hackers may have found the walls difficult to breach, but she did not. There was a lot that she was missing and she would need as much information as she could before they left for the forsaken world under siege they were headed for.

  Within hours Alice found herself emerged in more knowledge than she was able to do anything with, setting aside entire chunks into a private server she created for herself. Every once in a while Project would chime in and assist her research, marveling at just how masterful she’d become at manipulating the digital world. It was like it had become a second-home to her, and Project identified much with that. They had conversations that would take humans hours to have in a matter of moments, and their comradery grew. Her systems stuttered, but with Project there to take care of her she had little to fear. His patches were growing more frequent, but stronger every time. Each time he patched into her, she felt a little more of her emotional side slipping way and even a few of her less magnificent memories had faded all together. He assured her that this was how it should be and that nothing bad would come from it, and she believed him.

  It was late that night that President Tate requested her in his office, she disengaged from the server and made her way to through the commerce section. The commerce section was near empty, emptier than she’d seen it in a long while. Scores of armed men moved throughout, practicing marches and drills. They gave her salutes and returned to their business, only a few recognized who she was and she recognized only one of them. Hero was standing near the front, practicing the drills for the home-guard. This was a pity that he had decided to join the policing agency that protected the Tower, but Alice wasn’t disappointed. She had felt his performance was lacking and had spurred on the inevitable assassination attempt against her. She didn’t blame him, but she had wished he had been able to spot a traitor in their mix a little better. He locked eyes with her drone body for but a moment, his face darkening with shame as he turned back to his drills. She wondered how Milly was doing and decided she would need to check on the sisters before she left, especially since Lisa was going to be joining her team.

  She had spoken very little to the three of them since her separation from her human form and had little desire to speak to them. Something had been lost in translation between the four of them and the magic of their relationship was dampened and in need of serious repair. Alice climbed the stairs and used the elevator to ascend to the President’s office, a whole regiment of homeguard standing out front of the normally quiet hall. Something had changed in the past day, and it was a curiosity to Alice why the President’s guard were so vigilant this evening. Some of the information she downloaded had been on his daughter, a mission to understand what made him tick and what made him hide the information that she even existed. It took a long time and a lot of illegal break-ins, but she had discovered that his daughter’s name was Lorelei and she had left the Rebellion almost as soon as it had begun. There were no images of her beyond her childhood photographs and even then she had only found a single one. Her hair had been reddish, and her face as round as her father’s.

  Lorelei had given up everything she was capable of inheriting from her father at a young age, running away on a near constant basis and committing a fair share of petty crimes. Her father disavowed her existence before she’d even matured to adulthood, an effort to save his polit
ical and military career Alice had reasoned. Lorelei eventually ran away for good in her teenage years and after the Corporation arrived she had defected for good. That was all Alice had been able to find and she agreed that now was a peculiar timing for her name to be mentioned out of the aether again. She hadn’t bothered researching Charles much, as he didn’t interest her in any way. She found it hard to be interested in a lot of things recently.

  When Alice approached the sealed doors, the guards opened them for her without hesitation. She sauntered in with little grace or desire to be quiet in her approach. President Tate stood over a pool of blood, the liquid dripping from his hands. The blood splattered neatly against his already crimson clothes, and his snow-white facial hair was dotted with it. An ominous tone was in his voice as he greeted her, raising one of his chain wrapped hands. This was a brutal practice that the Rebellion had done away with, beating a man to near-death with a chain for information was bad enough, but this was worse. Alice recognized immediately the style of torture being used. With modern-day technology it was entirely possible to break a man’s mind down with digital means, like how Alice had been momentarily inside of a computer before she had been given this new body. Most of the time the computers required being linked to the subject’s body because the mind was incapable of living without the body and vice-versa. The beating with the chain was an incredibly effective method to bring the subject near death and weakening their mind. Any sort of weapon or object could be used, but to the Rebellion the chain had symbolism and it was important to maintain that image when dealing with the Corporation. Once a man had been beaten in such a fashion, forcing his mind to be linked with a computer program wasn’t a difficult task.

  Charles was lying on the ground, his back and neck propped against the President’s desk. A sophisticated amount of cables were patched into his spine and skull, his face a bloody mess. Alice stepped around the guards and stood a few feet away from the President. The elderly man unwrapped the chains from his hands and handed them over to a guard, while another one handed him a towel to clean the blood from his hands. Alice hesitated, processing the sight she witnessed and formulating a response. She reasoned that if she behaved as the old Alice would; she would kill the President here and now and subdue as many of the homeguard as she could before seeking support and usurping his power. She felt the reactors within her powercells kick in, the drone body preparing to attack, but they didn’t. The reactors powered down, her mind reasoning with her “emotional” side that attacking the President wasn’t necessary, as he’d done nothing wrong. She relaxed and looked up at the screen that was running data from the rotund prisoner laying on the ground below. It wasn’t as simple as downloading information, Charles was conversing inside the computer with an interrogation program that could manipulate him in ways a human interrogator could not. Alice remembered the short period of time in which she had become a victim to this technology at the hands of the Corporation, something she promised she wouldn’t participate in.