The State Series Box Set

by M. J. Kaestli

  Ursa, and, to Freya’s great surprise, Rowen—and the recently deceased was Pollux. The people left alive were the only people she had previously believed to be dead. Freya panned her vision around the room, trying to make sense of the scene. One would think that the worst thing she could see was human tissue spread on the wall, but it wasn’t. The worst was yet to come.

  Her vision panned to see Lewis holding a gun. He was to be their executioner, after what looked like a long and painful torture session. Freya spun on her heel and tried to run from the room as she began to heave. While she was making a run for it, she heard an electrical hum, and then screaming—Ursa’s scream. Killing Pollux only a moment ago did not mean the end for them; there was still more torture coming their way. Perhaps Pollux had been the lucky one.

  Chastity had her arms around Freya’s shoulders, guiding her down the hall toward a toilet.

  After she emptied her stomach, she curled up on the floor and sobbed uncontrollably. Her mind could hardly process what she had just seen. Lewis had said they had been following the wrong people, so why were they being tortured and killed? They were a harmless group—at least, as far as the State knew—who just wanted civilization to evolve into something softer. How could this be their fate? It was almost incomprehensible. Then a more horrifying thought came to her. What if one of them had talked? What if Rowen had been here for so long, he had after much torture given up the rebellion’s real plans? What if he had given me up? Part of her wanted to run into that room and confess to save them, but her logical mind knew that it wouldn’t help.

  “Freya, you have to be strong,” Chastity said in a firm voice, standing above her. “Pull yourself together and get up. Victor is waiting to speak to you.”

  Freya tried to take some deep breaths and dry her tears. Chastity may have been telling her to be strong for the State, but her words still resonated. I have to be strong. If she had any chance of helping them, it was time to act. Even if they had given her away, she would tell Victor that it was just them reacting to finding out she was a spy. She had to be strong, and she had to fight. Ursa was going to die, and if she failed her now, Ursa would die in vain. She stood up and rinsed out her mouth, and splashed cold water on her face.

  “I’m sorry. I have never seen anyone get shot before,” Freya said. She felt the need to justify being upset by what she had seen. “Which is kind of ironic. I can fire a gun quite well, and I carry one with me.”

  “I know, Freya. I don’t like to see it either, and I am armed also.”

  Freya felt a slight moment of relief. If Chastity bought that as a viable reason, maybe Victor or Lewis would also.

  “I am sorry you had to see that. I didn’t sleep well in that bunk, and I got turned around.” Chastity started to guide her into a different room.

  Freya could feel her heart beat up in her throat. The door opened into a room that strangely looked identical to Victor’s office in the State house. Freya looked around in amazement.

  “I know it must feel a little strange,” Victor said with a knowing smile. “I often need to be videoed in different locations, and so I have multiple offices that look just like the one in the State house.”

  Freya’s mouth was dry. She didn’t know whether she could possibly speak. Victor sat at the desk, just like he did in the State house, and James stood off to the side.

  “Welcome back, Freya,” Victor said simply.

  “We need to debrief you on your mission now, Freya. Please give us a detailed account of what you have learned,” said James.

  The dryness at the back of her throat nearly gagged her, or at least made it impossible to speak. She swallowed hard and then Chastity was right there, holding a glass of water for her. As grateful as she was for the momentary stall that it bought her, it wasn’t enough to make her believe that things were going to work out in her favor. She took a few more sips of water, a deep breath, and knew it was time.

  “I’m afraid it was rather disappointing,” she said. “I was able to identify Ursa, Rowen, and Pollux as members of a group who are not loyal to the State.”

  “That is an interesting choice of phrasing,” Victor replied.

  “I am not calling them rebels. I don’t think that term properly defines what they really are.” Her voice was miraculously even, but she worried her shaking hands would give away her true emotions. “They are pacifists, hoping that when the colony world opens up, we will shift into a democratic State. Their only action plan is to, as they call it, enlighten the minds of those around them. They feel if enough people believe that the State is no longer needed to govern us, we will be able to make that shift,” she said. “That is why I prefer to call them non-loyalists. They are not planning any violent acts—they just don’t believe the State and its policies will hold the keys to our future.”

  Victor nodded thoughtfully. “And why did you say you were disappointed?”

  “They were not the group we were after,” she stated. “All that time was wasted. We could have been finding the real threat.”

  Victor watched her intently. His gaze felt like a force that could see through her soul, see her guilt, yet she didn’t drop her gaze from his. This was it: either he believed her, or he sent her into that room for Lewis to take care of.

  “And do you believe this pacifist story? Do you really believe this is their plan, or do you think it is possible that your mission failed? Have you considered the possibility they recognized that you were a spy and fed you false information?” Victor asked.

  “Of course that is a possibility, and yes, it had crossed my mind.”

  “You doubt the information, yet you still pass it on to us without leading with your doubts,” he retorted.

  “I accept the possibility; I accept the odds of my own failure.”

  “What do you believe really happened then?”

  “I believe that overwhelmed by grief from the loss of her son, and then partner, Ursa confided in me. I believe she and Pollux told me the truth. I can’t say that there is not a more radical group out there that are a threat, but it is not them.”

  “Why? Why do you believe that when it is just as likely she lied to you? You saw an attack on the dome yourself, Freya. Why do you believe this group is not a threat?”

  “Hope.” Her voice cracked slightly.

  “Hope?” Victor replied.

  “Yes, hope. It can be more powerful than anything. The colonization project has given them hope, and any act of violence, any chance at lives lost, seems so illogical when things could be completely different for everyone soon.” She paused again, expecting Victor to interrupt her, but he didn’t. “They believe that with the extra space and resources, we won’t need to live this way anymore. Everyone will be able to choose their own life.” Her eyes finally fell to the floor; his silence said everything. He has found me guilty, and it is over. “I’m sorry this was not the information we were sent for. I can imagine how disappointed you must be.”

  “Not at all, Freya,” Victor said. “I think the disappointment falls on your end. You thought this mission would be more exciting or dangerous, but alas, it was not. You did well. You will receive your accolades and we will discuss future mission options.”

  Freya’s stomach felt as though someone had tied a rope around it and was tugging hard. Was he tricking me? Was it really over?

  “I don’t understand. How can you see this mission as a success? We didn’t get the rebellion we were looking for. It was all just a waste of time.” Freya’s breathing quickened. Somehow being off the hook wasn’t enough. So much of her knew that she should just shut her mouth and run, be grateful she survived. Yet she couldn’t. How can I remain silent when everything Victor is saying is wrong?

  “That is where you are wrong, Freya. Your mission was a complete success. You were able to get a confession from your target, plus an additional name. That is a very successful mission.”

  “But they weren’t the right people!” she said, cutting off Vic
tor. “We were sent there to find the rebellion who want to take down the dome, not a bunch of pacifists. What possible harm could they do? They aren’t trying to kill us.”

  “I know that is how it may look to you, but I assure you, the mission was a success. You may think of this group as pacifist, but they are in fact a threat. Today their ideas could be non-violent, but what about tomorrow? What about if they don’t like the new world when we colonize? Will they still sit back and be so silent then? Finding out is a risk we cannot afford to take.”

  It took every ounce of self-control for Freya to keep from yelling out, from screaming at Victor that he was wrong, that he was a monster. They shouldn’t be punished for simply having a different opinion. How could this peaceful little group be a threat? Why were they being tortured? Then a realization set in. They were a threat. She had told herself the lie so many times, she had begun to believe it herself. Hopefully they believed it also.

  “I guess I can appreciate that. I am sorry; I was disappointed. I thought the work I would be doing would save lives of innocent people. You’re right—it just wasn’t what I expected. Of course they are still a threat. Any act of treason cannot go unpunished.”

  Victor looked at Freya for a moment. “You have always been such a good girl, Freya.” Victor smiled. “I had my doubts about if you could be effective as a spy, but you have performed far beyond everyone’s expectation of you.”

  Freya nodded, trying to look honored.

  “That brings us to our next business. What do we do with you now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You have some options,” Victor said. “You and Lewis made a good team. It would be easy to simply move your location but keep you as a pair. Of course, you would live together down here until reassignment, but that won’t take too long.”

  “What are my other options?” Freya asked.

  Her voice shook slightly. She knew it was in her best interest to stay with Lewis; it would look the most compliant. There were even times when she had deluded herself into thinking she cared for him, but not now. After seeing him torture and kill people she loved, she knew it was not a possibility for her to stay with him. She would resent him, and it would lead to her demise.

  As frightened as she was—simply requesting to be separated from Lewis would surely disappoint Victor, yet she had to press on. She must take every opportunity to gain ground to lift her up in ranking, to solidify her standing and access to power, but she had to do all this without Lewis. Ursa had been right all along, she had to follow her plan, or at least try to.

  “If you choose to part from Lewis, we of course could fake an accident, and as a grieving widow, you could return to the State house to resume your duties in the grounds.”

  “Would I still do any spy work if I choose that option?”

  “Would you like to?” James asked.

  “If I returned to the State house, would I live there, or could I live on my own?” Freya asked. “If I did, perhaps I could keep an eye on people in the building, or community, yet still work on the grounds. It would be the best of both worlds, if you will.”

  “So you want to live independently, work in the house and do spy work on the side. That is a mighty full plate, Freya,” Victor said. “How will people believe in you? If they know you work in the State house, how will you gain their trust?”

  “I have done it before—I can do it again,” she answered confidently.

  Victor nodded and looked at James. James just shrugged and looked back at Victor.

  She knew she had done it, the pieces were falling into place. She was in the perfect position. If she lived in the State house once again, she would never be seen as anything more than a worker. Whereas, if she held onto the title of being a spy, she may not need to be a double agent—it might just tip the scales in her favour enough to someday make her someone important, maybe even the head of State.

  “We will give you a chance to make this work. If there is any sign you are in danger, you will be extracted immediately.”

  “I don’t think you can make me that promise,” she said with a knowing look, “but I accept.”

  Acknowledgements

  There are so many people who support and contribute to my work. I would like to mention just a few.

  A big thank you to my beta readers, Erin Lai, Janalyn Reil, and Mary Allred.

  To Grant SpottedBull for the custom illustrations.

  My friends and family for their continual support.

  Stacy at AuthorsMojo.com for book formatting and other tech help.

  As always, to Ella Barnard and all the bosses at Author Boss Academy.

  Corrupted

  Book Three of The State Series

  https://mjkaestli.com/

  No portion of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or any other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except for brief quotations for reviews, or noncommercial uses and with proper and correct citation.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 M.J. Kaestli

  All rights reserved.

  Corrupted - Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Books in The State Series

  Acknowledgements

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1

  Freya slipped into the side room. She did nothing to try to conceal herself, yet nobody seemed to take notice of her. The room was dimly lit and made entirely of concrete, giving it a cave like gloom. It was musty, far more humid than what was normal, or even comfortable—a combination of poor ventilation and sweat.

  “Give me another name,” Lewis yelled, his face mere inches away from Ursa’s. She flinched as his spittle projected toward her and pegged her square on the cheek.

  “I’ve told you already. Pollux was our only contact. That’s how it works.” She looked exhausted. Not the kind of exhaustion one might feel from strenuous labour or a lack of sleep, but an exhaustion reserved for those who are moments away from death. Her body slumped, showing how truly fatigued she was down to her very core, yet she held his gaze.

  “Let’s see about that,” Lewis said, and then he held a long metal rod to her skin.

  Jolts of electricity rippled through her. Her entire body convulsed, even her hands from where she was being hung.

  Freya wanted to tell Lewis to stop, but she momentarily struggled to find her voice. She simply stood there, staring at Ursa being tortured, until she was finally able to yell at Lewis.

  “Stop! STOP! Why are you doing this?” she screamed. “You said yourself, she wasn’t who we were looking for.”

  Lewis didn’t even turn to look at her, and she fell to the floor sobbing. She just lay curled in a ball, repeating Ursa’s name. No one took notice of her tantrum or reacted to the oddity of her presence: Lewis persisted in his torturing Ursa, and she screamed relentlessly as her body thrashed and convulsed.

  Freya kept sobbing on the floor until an alarm started to sound. She looked around for the source of the alarm. The image of Lewis and Ursa
faded, until she realized she was not in fact in the military underground, but in her own apartment.

  She shot out of bed as soon as she returned to her senses and ran for the bathroom. It had been twenty years since she completed her mission to spy on Ursa, but the nightmares still haunted her just as regularly as the first day she had been separated from Lewis, when her mission had ended. Her nightmares had been so persistent she doubted she would ever be free of them.

  There was no way for her to know whether her apartment was still monitored or not. It came down to whether the State believed she was on their side. Colin used to say that people were only monitored if the State was suspicious of them. People who were deemed compliant and finished psychological profiling had their cameras turned off. What side of the fence does the State think I sit on?