The Liberty Box Trilogy

by C. A. Gray

  “Molly!” Nick ran to her and kissed the top of her head, while I turned to the soldiers who had followed us.

  “Can I borrow that pin?” I said, pointing at one of the decorative pins on the soldier’s uniform. “Need to pick the lock on her cuffs.”

  “No need for that, I have a universal key here,” said the soldier, reaching into a pocket of his uniform and handing it to me while his buddy kept a weapon trained on us. I crouched down, inserted the key into Molly’s cuffs, and freed her. She immediately threw her arms around Nick.

  “What happened?” she sobbed.

  “We’ll explain later, we’ve got to get to IT.” Nick grabbed her hand as he said this, pulling her up and out of the bathroom behind us. “Alec told Joe—”

  “I know, I confronted him, that’s why he left me here!”

  “He’s dead, baby,” I heard Nick tell her behind me. “Jackson killed him.”

  “He what?”

  I intentionally tuned out the rest of the conversation, which Nick managed to convey even as we ran toward IT and he periodically shouted out directions. I didn’t want to relive it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

  “Charlie!” I shouted when he came into view. He swiveled and took aim before he realized it was us, and then relaxed. “Where’s Joe, why aren’t you with him?”

  “There were a bunch of IT workers in there, I had to wave my gun around to get them to leave and now I’m guarding the door—what’s wrong? Where’s Alec? Why are there soldiers with you?”

  I ignored all this and said, “Is that IT?”, pointing at the door which Charlie was guarding. He nodded, and I burst in.

  The room was overwhelming, filled with enough terminals for almost eighty workers at a time. Screens of various shapes and sizes covered the walls, but across the top was a large, prominent screen that ran the length of the room: a ticker tape. Joe sat alone at the central net screen, sweat beads dotting his brow. He looked up with wild eyes, seeing first me and then scanning the rest of the group. Then he looked back down and kept working without a word.

  “You can stop this now, Joe,” I commanded. “Alec is dead, and so is Voltolini. Neither of them can threaten you anymore.”

  Just then I saw the ticker tape light up with the words, “The Potentate has deceived you. You have been his slaves.”

  “It’s already started,” Nick whispered behind me. “We’re too late.”

  “Joe!” I shouted again. “You have to stop this! You have to destroy it!”

  “Alec was right about one thing!” Joe cried, not even looking at me as he typed. “We have to undo the damage first. That’s what Heath threatened Voltolini with all those years ago. If we can make them believe lies, we can make them believe the truth, too. If you leave them with a lie, that’s the last thing they’ll remember!” He turned to me now, feverish. “I don’t want that to be my legacy. This technology is my life’s work, and it’s been used for evil for decades. Let me use it for good, at least once. Then I’ll send the self-destruct virus to all the control centers, and their backups. I promise.”

  I turned around to look at Nick and Molly, but it was Molly who stepped forward.

  “I know what your last message should be,” she said quietly. “It won’t reprogram the people, it will only remind them of what they already know. At least anyone old enough to remember the old United States.”

  Nick hesitated a moment and then released her. She approached Joe, and spoke to him too softly for us to hear. We saw him typing, and then he nodded to her.

  “You think that’s enough?” he asked her.

  She nodded. “I do.” With that, she walked back to us, a quiet smile on her face. “He’s queuing up the self-destruct code now. It will execute right after the last message.”

  “What is it?” Nick asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  We all waited, watching Joe work. At last he finished, and his finger hovered over one last key, which I knew must be the Execute button. He closed his eyes, as if savoring the moment, and then pounded it with a flourish. Then he stood up, and very slowly moved to join us.

  Seconds later, the ticker tape lit up again.

  It said, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created EQUAL.”

  Chapter 44: Kate

  I heard beeping; that was what woke me up. I couldn’t place it, though—it wasn’t like any sound I’d ever heard before. But it was steady and electronic. When I blinked my eyes open, I saw that I was in a white sterile room, chock full of monitors, and hooked up to an IV, the sight of which sent a wave of nausea over me. I hated needles.

  I tried to sit up, and immediately felt the ache in my shoulder and upper right chest. I moaned.

  Beside me, I heard someone stir, and then suck in a breath, like he’d just awakened. I turned, and saw Jackson slumped in a chair beside me. He looked positively dreadful. I’d never seen a more welcome sight in my life.

  He saw me looking at him, and tears welled up and spilled over his cheeks.

  “Oh, thank God!” he said.

  “Jackson?” I croaked, my voice refusing to obey me as I struggled to sit up again, wincing. “What happened? Where am I? Where are Mom and Dad? Did Voltolini—?”

  “Shh,” he whispered, simultaneously easing me back onto my pillow and wiping his own tears away with the back of his hand. “You were unconscious for about twenty four hours, even after a blood transfusion. We—didn’t think you were gonna make it.” He choked on the words.

  “Did you see my broadcast?”

  He nodded, and my heart sank.

  “I’m—sorry, Jackson.” My words seemed so feeble. How could I adequately apologize for betraying him twice? “I didn’t mean anything I said—”

  “I know. It’s okay,” he stopped me. “I was devastated at first, I admit. But then I got your message at the end—that was intended for me, right?”

  I nodded, blinking back tears.

  He went on, “Once I heard that, I understood what you were about to do. We’re off the coast of Canada, by the way, on New Estonia’s medical hovercraft.”

  I looked away from him. “You thought you knew what I was about to do. But I couldn’t in the end. Will was right about me all along. I wasn’t strong enough.”

  “You mean you were merciful,” he whispered. “That’s not weakness, Kate.”

  “He deserved to die!” I wheezed, with too much force. I winced from the pain.

  “Shh. He did die. He’s dead.”

  I opened my eyes again, inhaling so rapidly that I felt like a helium balloon. “Who killed him?”

  “Alec.”

  For a split second this didn’t register, and then I saw the fear spread across Kate’s face. “Jackson, Alec told Joe something in Friedrichsburg. He told him not to destroy the control centers, but to reprogram people to follow him instead of Voltolini—”

  “Alec’s dead too, Kate. And Joe did destroy the control centers.” He squeezed my hand. “It’s over. Rest.”

  I clamped one hand over his. “My parents. Are they…?”

  He cradled my hand in both of his. “Your dad is fine,” he said carefully, “he’s been sitting with you almost as much as I have. So has Charlie.”

  I blinked at him, understanding the omission but not wanting to understand it. “Mom?” I whispered.

  He squeezed my hand again, and shook his head.

  I closed my eyes and felt Jackson’s hand on my cheek. I felt so depleted, I couldn’t even cry.

  “Who else?” I croaked.

  “Roger and Jacob. They died on the way to the palace.”

  I heard voices outside the door, and then Molly poked her head in.

  “She’s awake!” she crowed. I winced at the loud noise. “Did Jackson fill you in already? Turns out the Crone saved us in the end!”

  I blinked, not understanding. “What? The Crone?” I hadn’t thought about her in what seemed like ages.
>
  “Yes, the king knew of her family and was willing to receive her. When he heard her story, the king launched spy planes from Canada into the Republic, to see if things were as bad as the Crone had said. That’s what we kept seeing in Beckenshire! Apparently Voltolini released a virus on them to make them all passive and apathetic, though. They’d begun to just ignore us, until they got Joe and Will’s message telling them to look for control centers on their own soil. The king found them, under the guise of factories, and took the workers into custody. Turns out none of them knew what they were really building—either they were terrific actors or they thought they were actually building an ordinary broadcasting station. The soldiers found the brainwave technology inside and dismantled it.”

  Nick, who had tiptoed in behind Molly, chimed in, “The King of New Estonia considered the control centers an act of war. Hence the full scale attack on the palace during your broadcast. Lots of the soldiers were actually from the International Peace Council, since New Estonian soldiers are mostly too sick to fight right now.” Then he smiled at me gently, adding, “Hi Kate. Good to have you join us again.”

  “Thanks,” I murmured, closing my eyes. I was feeling overwhelmed, and wished they would shut up and go away now.

  Jackson must have read my expression, because he said, “I think Kate’s tired,” and he stood up to leave. “We should let her rest. We’ll fill her in on everything else later.”

  I grabbed his fingertips just before they were out of reach. He sat back down as Molly and Nick slipped out.

  “What happens now?” I whispered.

  “Well, the International Peace Council stepped in just in case there are riots, though there really haven’t been any. The people of the Republic want to reinstate democracy using the old Constitution of the United States, so they’re trying to figure out how to make that happen. Nick was nominated for president, but he’s not thrilled about it. He just wants to be a hunter and live a quiet life, he says, after all of this—”

  “I meant with—us.” Some part of me was amazed that I could even feel nervous, after all that had happened. “Are you…” I cleared my throat, wincing with the pain of the cough. “Are you going back to Iceland? Or… staying here?”

  He gazed at me for a moment with his heart in his eyes, and traced the shape of my battered face with his fingertips. “Do you want me to stay?” he asked.

  I couldn’t speak. I just nodded.

  He grinned. “Then I’ll stay.”

  Epilogue: Jackson

  Dear Uncle Patrick and Aunt Vivien,

  I was thrilled to get your letter—I hadn’t been sure if you’d received my first one, and I at least wanted to know you knew I was safe, and why I hadn’t written in so long.

  In answer to all of your questions: yes, since my last letter, Kate and I got married. I wish you both could have been there, and Grandfather, too. It was very small—just Kate’s dad and brother, and our friends, Nick and Molly.

  Technically the Republic is a colony of New Estonia now. They have a steward in charge at the moment, but the International Peace Council has a heavy presence here to keep down the riots. There’s still a lot of unrest and fallout, and I’m sure there will be for years to come. At least the first shock waves have passed, though.

  It’s strange, settling into a routine again—strange, but very pleasant. Kate and I live on farmland on the edge of the Republic. I hunt, fish, and raise crops, and with Charlie’s help, I restore old farm equipment from the Republic to maximize productivity. There are so many starving people here to feed. The Council is incentivizing people to farm, and they’ve refurbished the bullet trains to send food across the nation. Kate’s father Albert lives with us too. He’s grief-stricken still of course, but improving day by day.

  Kate retired from the news, as I’m sure you guessed. She says now that she never even liked being on camera, and she prefers the quiet life of homesteading. She helps me on the farm as much as she can, but because now both of us are famous and because there are so many people still trying to figure out who they are and what’s really true without the government signals, pilgrims periodically find their way to the farm. (And by periodically, I mean almost every other day.) For a while neither of us could figure out what to do with them, but eventually I started leading workshops to teach meditation and all the stuff that Grandfather taught me. Kate, Charlie, and Albert are all getting good enough at this to lead some of the workshops themselves, too. We also taught them farming, fishing, and hunting to help feed the starving nation. It helps them to eat, and also gives them a sense of purpose.

  Nick and Molly also started a farm—Nick is better at hunting, but Molly knows how to cultivate the land. Jean and Joe actually came back to the Republic once the war was over, and they are hard at work rebuilding the computer infrastructure here. New Estonia and the Council recognize that this will be necessary for getting the country out of third world status. Will chose to stay in New Estonia; I’m sure the fact that Kate and I are together was no small part of that. The king considers him a national hero, so I’m sure he’ll be well looked after. We parted on good terms, I think. I wish him the best.

  I would so love for you both to come and visit. I know it wouldn’t be easy, but there are airports here now, so at least you wouldn’t have to come by cargo ship, like I did. I wish Grandfather would come too, but I know better than to hope for that. He belongs with the land, and he always predicted that I would end up back in the Republic. He told me this was where I would find my purpose.

  He was right. As usual.

  All my love,

  Jackson

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you so much for sticking with me until the end! I hope you enjoyed The Liberty Box trilogy. Would you please consider reviewing it on your favorite online retailer, and on Goodreads? As a self-published author, I depend on positive reviews from readers like you!

  My favorite part of writing is the creation of my world, and the “ah-ha!” moments along the way. My favorite “ah-ha!” moment in this story was letting Jackson meet Joe, the creator of the Liberty Box technology, in prison. I actually the entire story almost completed, when I felt like something was missing… I needed more of a twist, more tension, more surprise. Joe was the answer: the controversial character who might belong to either side, but whose assistance turned out to be THE critical element in the rebels’ fight.

  If there’s an underlying theme to the story, it is this hard-learned lesson from my own life: your thoughts and your beliefs influence your actions; your actions form your habits, and your habits shape your life. As Jackson would say, just make sure that what you’re thinking and believing is both true and beneficial to you!

  I’d love any feedback you have about this story, the characters, and the themes—good or bad! Feedback is what helps me to improve. Please email me at authorcagray1@gmail.com or visit me at www.authorcagray.com. While you’re there, sign up for my mailing list for updates of new work! I look forward to connecting with you.

  Thank you again for reading my work!

  All the best,

  C.A. Gray

  Also by C.A. Gray:

  Intangible: Piercing the Veil, Book 1

  Invincible: Piercing the Veil, Book 2

  Impossible: Piercing the Veil, Book 3

  Acknowledgements

  To my editors, Cyndi Deville (my mom) and Jim Strawn: couldn’t do this without you. Mom picks out logical inconsistencies in the plot and coaches me along the way with more exciting plot twists and turns. She’s much more creative than I am—in fact, most of my best ideas are hers. Jim coaches me on making the science and technology work (clearly necessary for a story like this one). He also mercilessly slashes my adverbs, chops up my run-on sentences, and points out every time I start a sentence with a conjunction. ;) Thank you both so very much! You are such a blessing!

  To my husband, Frank Baden: your support means so much to me. Frank named t
he second two books in this trilogy, and also came up with the cover art ideas (arguably my best covers yet)!

  To my marketing manager, Caitlin Bauer: it is so good to have you in my corner. Before we met, I’d just throw a book out there as soon as I’d finished it and hope for the best. ;) Now I make sure I run everything by you in terms of timing and marketing. Much of the following I have is because of you!

  To my cover artist, Nathalia Suellen—it’s really incredible how talented and also how fast you are! All I have to do is give her Frank’s idea of what the cover should look like, and she sends it back to me, better than I could have imagined. It’s like she can read my mind.

  Lord, thank you for the ability to do this: to find the time to follow my passion for writing even while working my very demanding day job. Thank you for arranging circumstances such that self-publishing and maintaining control of my work is possible, the barriers are low, and for giving me the team of people around me to make it possible.

  About the Author

  C.A. Gray is a Naturopathic Medical Doctor (NMD), with a primary care practice in Tucson, Arizona. She has always been captivated by the power of a good story, fictional or otherwise, which is probably why she loves holistic medicine: a patient’s physical health is invariably intertwined with his or her life story, and she believes that the one can only be understood in context with the other. She is blessed with exceptionally supportive family and friends, and thanks God for them every single day!