The Ten Thousand

by Doug Felton

  Raisa lifted some restrictions as soon as she could, but connecting the New World’s intranet to the rest of the world wasn’t a good idea, at least not yet. She thought freeing up the flow of information on it was a good first step, but now she wasn’t so sure.

  On the screen, three men with ski masks barged into the restaurant. The video was jerky, and the bodies in front of the camera sometimes blocked the view. A small older Italian woman looked more angry than frightened as they approached her.

  “Where’s Hudson Phoenix?”

  Her expression shifted to confusion, “Hudson?” she said, looking over her shoulder. “You’re not here to rob me?”

  The three men took their cue from her glance and, pushing the old woman aside, headed toward the kitchen.

  Zeke rubbed his forehead. “This isn’t going to end well.”

  The camera followed the three men through the swinging kitchen doors. Inside, men and women were working at steel counters, chopping, and mixing various items for the coming lunch hour.

  “Hudson Phoenix,” one of the masked men yelled.

  Several of the workers looked up and then at one young man who turned when his name was called.

  “Gotcha.”

  Hudson dropped the food he was holding and bolted for the back door. All four of the assailants followed. The running made the video even more difficult to watch as it bounced. Bursting through the back door, daylight flooded the scene, turning it a glaring white. It took a couple of seconds for the camera to adjust. When it did, it showed a narrow alleyway behind the restaurant. Two of the masked men held Hudson by the arms. The third was holding a knife.

  Hudson planted his feet a shoulder-width apart and threw his arms up, breaking the grip of both men. And then, with lightning speed, he grabbed both men around the neck and lifted them off the ground. The men gagged, clawing at his hands to no effect. The one with the knife rushed Hudson, plunging the knife into his side. He let out a scream and listed to the side, but he kept both men suspended in the air. Straightening up, he threw the men against the alley walls on his right and his left. They hit with a sickening thud and fell motionless to the ground.

  The man with the knife stood in a crouch as if he were unsure what to do next. Hudson lifted his shirt, examining his wound. Raisa gasped when she saw the bloody gash closing before her eyes. Even at her accelerated rate of healing, she had never healed that fast.

  The man with the knife stood with his back to the camera, and his body language seemed to change at the sight of Hudson’s rapid healing. He rocked from foot to foot. Hudson’s eyes went from his wound, which was almost healed, to the man. For a moment, it looked as if he might attack him and exact revenge, but he didn’t. Instead, he looked up the narrow walls of the alley before jumping against one and propelling himself against the other. He did that, back and forth, until he reached the roof of the building three stories up and disappeared over the ledge.

  The man with the body cam said, “What the hell was that?” just as the video went dark.

  “Our credibility is toast,” Raisa said. “Everyone who sees this will assume all of the immortals are like this, and the government has been covering it up.” Raisa leaned her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes, the beginning of a migraine pushing its way to her temples. “This is a day from hell. How can it possibly get any worse?”

  The sound of footsteps brought Song back to the living room. “Alexander is on his way to Captain Deeson. They’ll be here in an hour.” Song paused long enough for Raisa to open her eyes and look at her. “You need to know that Alexander and President Tate issued an order to the New World army. They’ve begun detaining the Ten Thousand.”

  Chapter Nine

  “It was not your decision to make,” Raisa said as Alexander descended the ramp of the airship. She had stormed out of Zeke’s house to meet him as it landed. “What were you thinking?”

  “I thought someone had kidnapped you, and we were about to have ten thousand people exposed to danger, many of them here in Pittsburgh. I thought I had a missing wife in a city about to be turned upside down. What did you expect me to do?”

  “I expected you to wait at least ten minutes before pulling the trigger,” Raisa said. “You wanted the Ten Thousand detained all along, this gave you the perfect excuse.”

  “I did wait.” Alexander raised his voice. “We got the Cruise video thirty minutes before he publicly released it. We had no idea how long we had to make a choice, and we had no idea where you were or if you were—” Alexander broke off his words. “I had to make a choice. And, by the way, I would never put my personal opinions before what’s best for you or the New World.” And then he added in a gentler tone, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  Raisa’s anger settled, but it didn’t vanish. Alexander made sense, but she was still upset that they had made a crucial decision without her. She stood in silence, not wanting to concede any of his points. He waited until it became obvious she would not respond, and pushed past her, making his way to the house. That caused her anger to flare again. Husband or not, she was still his queen and deserved his respect.

  Raisa turned and followed Alexander into the house, frustrated that it was she who was following him. “How do you plan for us to detain ten thousand people?” She asked once inside. Everyone else recognized this was a conversation between Raisa and Alexander and kept whatever comments they might have had to themselves.

  Alexander seemed reluctant to answer the question. “New World troops are working with local law enforcement precincts to bring them in. We assigned a hundred and fifty precincts, just over sixty names apiece.”

  That was a good plan. Efficient. “Okay, but that’s going to take time to put together, and what are we supposed to do with them once they’re detained? We can leave them in local custody forever.”

  Alexander stiffened. “We’ve been working on the plan for several months. Ever since we found out there were ten thousand of them out there. It’s ready to go now.”

  Alexander might as well have hit Raisa in the stomach. She sucked in a breath and said, “We who?”

  “President Tate, Councilmen Barrymore and Snyder, and the Secretary of the Army.”

  Tears stung Raisa’s eyes, but she refused to cry. “You planned this behind my back?”

  “No,” Alexander said. “I did my job, which is to anticipate what you might need and prepare for all contingencies. If you weren’t so personally invested in the Ten Thousand, you would’ve been able to see that this was a possibility.”

  Raisa suddenly felt self-conscious about having this conversation with an audience. “I need the room,” she said to Song. Everyone filed out at the commander’s direction. Turning to Alexander, she spoke in a quiet, steady voice. “It’s not up to you to decide if I am too personally invested to make a decision. I am the Queen of the New World, but you are not the king.”

  A hardness that Raisa had never seen shaped Alexander’s face. He spoke in an equally quiet voice. “Don’t forget how and why Ashwill chose you to be queen.”

  Alexander opened his mouth to continue, but Raisa put up an unsteady hand to stop him. Nausea threatened to sicken her. “I need you to leave,” she said and turned to face the giant windows. His steps retreated behind her, and Raisa was alone. The beautiful garden before her blurred into a mass of indistinguishable colors as hot tears stained her cheeks.

  “Ma’am, are you okay?”

  Raisa turned away from the window to see Scott, Zeke’s tech guy, standing behind her. What was he doing here? She’d asked for the room. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

  “I didn’t realize everyone had gone, or I wouldn’t have—” He paused. “This must be very hard for you.”

  Raisa wanted him to leave her to her own thoughts.

  “I saw the video,” he said. “It was very good. There aren’t that many people who can produce something that good. I want to help. If there is ever anything I can do for you, please let me know.
”

  Scott’s eyes held an intensity that made Raisa uncomfortable. His unyielding stare only heightened her annoyance at the intrusion. “Thank you, but I’d like to be alone.”

  “Yes, ma’am. But don’t forget my offer.”

  Scott left, and Raisa returned her gaze to the window and her thoughts to her broken heart.

  At six o’clock the next morning, it was still dark on the Palace grounds. Raisa dressed in a running suit that kept her comfortable in the nippy morning air. Alongside her were the five other women from her basic training class: Penly, Elliot, Chi, Ekua, and Holloway. Together they were the six that Creighton Ashwill had chosen as candidates for the monarchy. The virus had genetically changed all of them. For a short time, they thought they were the only six like them in the world. After Raisa became queen, she offered each of them a place on the Palace staff. They accepted, and they often took early morning runs together.

  Raisa had not invited Alexander to join her that morning; her anger still too fresh. She had returned the day before from Pittsburgh and needed the company of these women. They had a special connection that they shared with one another. Each of them would live for centuries. Nobody knew how many centuries, but they would be together long after their loved ones were gone. That made their sorority unique. And that shared reality overshadowed whatever differences they might have.

  Raisa had invited them to join her on a run because running cleared her mind and calmed her spirit. She assumed it did the same for them, and she needed them to have clear minds this morning. So they would run.

  The Palace grounds encompassed over 280 park-like acres filled with trees, bushes, statues, and fountains, roughly the same acreage as when it served as the U.S. Capitol. Unlike the days when it housed the legislative branch of the American government, however, a perimeter barrier surrounded the Palace grounds. Song gave Raisa a tour on her first day in The Palace and demonstrated the security features of the barrier. The demonstration impressed Raisa, and she had no reservations about taking her morning runs on the grounds, although she didn’t take them as often as she’d like.

  The women finished stretching and set out. Raisa kept the pace steady, but slower than her normal pace at first. She would open it up to a full sprint for the last hundred meters. It was an unspoken understanding to anyone running with her that the stretch from the Peace Monument to the Summerhouse was the competitive part of the run.

  The pack ran in silence as the sunrise lit the eastern sky on fire and coated the Palace dome in brilliant pink. Raisa’s feet moved in a rhythmic pattern, pushing life through her arteries. Deep breaths cleared the sludge from her mind and the stiffness from her muscles. The others were athletic, but none of them were built for running as Raisa was, causing them to labor harder when she picked up the pace. Raisa would keep increasing the pace in small increments until they reached the Peace Monument. By that time, she expected the others would be at their limit, and her winning streak would be safe.

  But winning wasn’t her only goal that morning. Raisa needed the run to clear her heart as well as her head. She was still angry with Alexander, and not just about the decision he’d made to detain the Ten Thousand, but the presumption that he knew what she would do. And more than that, his charge that she was the queen only because Creighton Ashwill needed her to carry out his plan. Hearing Alexander say that cut deep because, if Raisa were honest with herself, she knew it was true. She had no right to claim the throne, and yet there she was. For two years, she’d worked hard to be a worthy leader, always learning and growing. Being considered unworthy was the greatest fear she had, and Alexander knew that. She could forgive him for an unfounded insult blurted out in anger, but this was different.

  Her father taught her to never back away from a challenge, and so, despite her insecurities, she had pressed on in her role as queen, believing that fate had brought her there. But how could she lead if her own husband didn’t believe in her?

  As the peace monument came into view, Raisa picked up the speed a little more. Next to her, Sandra Elliot kept up the pace. As she reached the monument, the others began to fall farther behind, but Elliot stuck with her, pumping her arms in a steady rhythm.

  This is new. Raisa had never faced a serious challenger on the last leg of the run. Passing the monument, both women broke into a full-out sprint. Elliot kept pace, stride for stride, causing an odd sensation to rise in Raisa’s chest, something she couldn’t name. It was less than panic, but more than a friendly competition. As the Summerhouse grew closer and her heart beat wildly in her chest, Raisa knew she had to win. That race at that moment became the measure of her legitimacy. She was a runner; that’s what she did. But if she couldn’t do that, how could she succeed at the bigger challenges before her? How could she protect the Ten Thousand? Her thoughts were more emotional than rational, but they fueled Raisa to push her body to its limit, nonetheless.

  Elliot was taller than Raisa, with a bigger wingspan. If they reached the Summerhouse at the same time, Elliot would touch it first. It was ten meters away, and Raisa needed to gain a step, just one, but she didn’t know if she could move her legs any faster or make her stride any longer. Ten meters became five, then three, then one. In desperation, Raisa launched herself toward the hexagon-shaped brick building. Elliot had slowed so she could tag the building without slamming into it as Raisa flew past her, driving her shoulder hard into the unrelenting wall. She felt her collar give way on impact and heard the snap of bone. Raisa’s body crumpled to the ground as she pulled her arm to herself, cradling it. Pain radiated over her whole body as she rolled onto her back.

  Elliot stood over her, hands on her hips, panting. “What is wrong with you? You’d rather hurt yourself than lose? Or is it that you just can’t stand losing to me anymore?”

  The outburst didn’t surprise Raisa. She’d been getting the better of Elliot for a couple of months, and the frustration was showing. Before Raisa could answer, the other three showed up, offering considerably more sympathy. “Are you alright?” Chi said, kneeling next to Raisa, her straight black hair pulled back in a ponytail. “What happened?”

  “She launched herself into the wall,” Elliot answered.

  Raisa knew there was no way she could explain, and with the pain screaming from her shoulder, she didn’t want to try. She pushed herself up into a sitting position. “I needed to win,” she said to Elliot but realized that it made no more sense saying it out loud than it had in her head.

  “You always need to win,” Elliot said. “One day, you’ll run into something more unforgiving than this wall.”

  A soldier patrolling the Palace grounds ran toward Raisa. “Are you okay, Ma’am?”

  “I’m good,” she said, forcing a smile through the pain. She didn’t need some Boy Scout of a soldier reporting her injury. She waved with her good arm. “Thanks.”

  The others joined her on the ground, sitting against the Summerhouse.

  “They’re taking them,” Raisa said, catching her breath. “The Ten Thousand. They’re locking them up.”

  “They are? You act like you’re not the one in charge,” Elliot said.

  “I’m not in charge right now. If you haven’t noticed, Tom Cruise is.” Without knowing who was behind the leaks and the attack, everyone in the Palace had referred to the enemy by his avatar’s name. “He’s pulling all the strings,” Raisa said. “He knows what he wants and how to get it. At the precise moment that I was isolated in Pittsburgh, he released the video and pressured the government to make a decision.”

  “So un-decide for him,” Ekua said, her ebony skin glistening from sweat.

  Penly shook her head. “And risk having the names released? She can’t do that.”

  “What she can’t do is let these people get locked up; they haven’t done anything wrong. And once they’re taken, everybody will know who they are anyway. So locking them up doesn’t help on that score. As long as we give in to this guy, he’ll be in control.”

 
“Make it voluntary,” Holloway suggested. “Let them choose. If they think they need protection, they can opt for government protection. If they don’t want to, they don’t have to.”

  “The only problem with that is they don’t even know who they are,” Chi said. “How would you like someone to knock on your door and say, ‘Guess what? You’re immortal. Now you have a decision to make; do you want to go into protective custody, or do you want to risk it on your own?”

  Elliot scoffed. “I’d like that better than being told I’m immortal and then being hauled off against my will.”

  Raisa listened to them hash it out. It was helpful to hear her own conflicting thoughts being argued by others. The pain surging through her body grounded her thinking and stripped away distracting emotions like old dried-up paint. “If we hope to gain an advantage, we need to find out who Tom Cruise is, and we need to change public opinion about the Ten Thousand. We’ve got to get them back into society, and soon.”

  “We don’t need to find Tom Cruise,” Penly said. “We need to find the leak we’ve got right here in the government. Find the leak, and we’re back in control.” The others looked less than convinced. “Look,” she said, “we’ve got investigators trying to find who planted the bomb, right? But even if they find who did it, they’ve only caught the little fish, because I’m willing to bet Tom Cruise didn’t plant that bomb himself. But if we find the leak we’ve got here, we can pull the strings. Information is power. If we cut off his source of information, we take away his power.”

  “I’m assuming you have a plan,” Raisa said.

  “Working on it.”

  “When you’ve got it, share it with me and no one else,” Raisa said. “And I mean no one.” She didn’t have to remind the others to keep their lips locked on this, they already knew.

  “But even if we can do that, we haven’t solved the problem,” Chi said. “He still has the names of the Ten Thousand. That’s his trump card. And once they’re detained, we won’t be able to protect their identity anymore.”