Rebellion

by K A Riley

  “Who’s that with him?” I ask Wisp, forgetting for a second that she can’t see what I see through Render’s eyes until Manthy and Olivia complete their download. “There’s someone with him all the time. Next to him.”

  “I don’t know. Man or woman?”

  “I can’t tell. It’s someone in a red coat with a hood.”

  Wisp says she doesn’t know who it might be. “We’ve exhausted so many resources and lost so many contacts trying to infiltrate the Patriot Army. Honestly, you’ve already given us more in the last few hours than we got in the last two months combined. Why don’t you go ahead and disconnect.”

  “Wait,” I say. “Some guards just dragged two Patriots in. Ekker is shouting at two men. I recognize them. It’s the two guards we took down the other day on our way into the city. I can’t hear everything. Just bits and pieces.”

  “Can you get closer?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t want Render to get spotted. Wait. Ekker just hit one of the men. I think he broke the man’s nose. Now he just hit the other one. The two men are down. They’re bleeding. I think they’re begging…for their lives. The person with him, the one in the hood, just handed Ekker a gun.”

  In the Armory, two thunderous explosions rip rapid-fire from the gun and blast a deafening echo throughout the huge open space below. The two kneeling men pitch lifelessly forward as a flash of bright red blood sprays from their heads, and they collapse to the floor. The sound startles Render, and he flutters frantically around the ceiling rafters. The commotion attracts the attention of Ekker who whips his head up and trains his gun on Render. I recognize the weapon. Granden and Trench trained us on one just like it in the Processor. A specialized version of the Beretta DT33 series. With its burnished forcing cone and sleek black lines like a venomous snake in mid-strike, it’s every bit as deadly as it looks.

  The laser targeting spot glows red from the sight on Ekker’s gun. There’s another blast of gunfire from the weapon, and my connection with Render goes black.

  6

  Without my connection, the two worlds of the Armory and the Intel Room smash into one mixed-up mess. I’m in a bone-shaking panic, completely unable to catch my breath, and on the verge of sobbing uncontrollably, when things snap back into focus, and I’m able to say the two best words I’ve ever said:

  “He missed.”

  “What happened?” Rain asks. She’s rushed around to my side of the table and has one hand on my arm with Manthy holding onto my other arm.

  I blink the room into clarity and take a very deep, very relieved breath as I look from one of the girls to the other. “Ekker. That general,” I explain through a sudden bout of the shakes. “He shot those two soldiers. He spotted us. Took a shot at us. But he missed. Render’s still in the Armory. He’s okay. Just startled. I need to reconnect.”

  “No,” Manthy protests.

  “We’re inside,” I argue more feebly than I’d care to admit. “We have so much we can find out now.”

  “No,” Wisp says from across the table where the detailed schematics of the Armory are hovering. “We’ve got a lot, already. It’s late, and it sounds like you just had a too-close-for-comfort call. We’ll pick up again tomorrow.”

  I think I say, “Okay,” but it’s hard to tell. Render’s world and mine are still all mixed up. I can’t tell if I’m thinking things in my head or saying them out loud. A wave of dizziness washes over me, and I feel like I’m in the ceiling of the Armory instead of sitting here in the Intel Room, slumped over in my chair.

  Manthy stands and helps me up. With her arm around my shoulders, we walk over to the window, which Manthy opens for me with a verbal command that unlocks and opens the black privacy barrier that keeps the room dark and concealed from any of the Patriots’ spy drones that might be skulking around at any given time. I know it’s a risk, especially considering we need to be as secretive as possible given the magnitude of our objective, but the rush of crisp, cool air is as satisfying as any meal.

  I insist to Manthy that I need to keep helping with the planning, and I start to turn around.

  She turns me back toward the window and the breeze. “The only thing you need to do right now is breathe.”

  I never thought I’d need to be reminded to breathe, but here I am.

  Manthy has had her hand on my forearm the whole time, and my skin is white and oddly cool where she’s been touching it.

  “I need to check on him at least.”

  Manthy looks over at Wisp who nods her tentative approval, and I swipe my tattoos and slip back into Render’s mind. He’s still up in the ceiling rafters, just about to make his way back to the vent where he slipped in. Ekker and the other soldiers down below seem to have laughed off his presence as nothing more than an amusing and innocent intrusion and have gone back about the business of shipping the two dead soldiers away on mag-stretchers.

  After a few minutes, Render bursts from the rooftop vent of the Armory and soars out into the darkening San Francisco evening. I can feel the fear slipping out of him as he pierces the night sky and makes his way back toward the Style.

  I disconnect and tell Manthy everything’s okay. “He’s on his way here. He’ll likely find a spot on the roof to get some rest.” I offer Manthy a weak smile. “He does seem to be enjoying his new job as a surveillance drone, though.”

  Manthy gives me a flat, expressionless look before leading me back to the table where I collapse exhausted into my chair.

  While I drop back down, feeling barfy and boneless, Rain and Wisp perform all kinds of algorithmic computations based on the information Render and I have been able to provide so far. Clustered around an ever-changing, morphing, and slowly-revolving and evolving series of holograms, they run virtual battle simulations, calculate odds of success given a stream of variables, tap as best they can into the outlying Patriot Army networks, and undertake a preliminary digital infiltration of the army’s communication patches.

  “It’s mostly just test-runs,” Olivia explains. “Over the next few days, we’ll keep sneaking in, getting whatever information we can, and start installing some sub-routines that will enable us to complete the takeover once you’re in the Command Headquarters.”

  Just the fact of Olivia saying “once you’re in the Command Headquarters” out loud gives me a bad case of the spinal shivers.

  Standing at the table in the dark but glowing room, Rain and Wisp are illuminated by the detailed schematics and by the real-time images of our various targets in and around the Armory. With their heads practically touching, the two girls assemble all the intel and start to organize a unified plan of attack. It’s turned into a very long day. I miss Brohn and Cardyn. I look forward to when I can head upstairs and reunite with them in the Dorm. For now, I sit and stare, trapped in a slog of mental numbness as Manthy and Olivia work their techno-magic while Wisp and Rain refine our plans.

  Like Rain, Wisp turns out to have a gift for strategy and logistics, and I’m starting to see how someone like her managed to achieve such a high rank in this underground world of rebels. Rain and Wisp keep flicking their fingers at the schematic. Back in the Valta, I’m not sure the two of them ever even had a conversation. Now, like me with Render, they operate in total and fluid synchronization. Although they consult with me from time to time, I don’t really have that much to offer at this point. Everything I saw, I passed along to Manthy who relayed it to Olivia who is fleshing out her new-and-improved schematics at lightning speed. The dozens of gray-green and yellow images grow more detailed before our eyes. It won’t be long, I suspect, before we have a perfect simulation of the entire city complete with visual representations of every branch of the Patriot Army’s digital surveillance network.

  Wisp continues to rattle off battle plans as fast as Olivia can get the images up. “Flank assault here. Enkulette at this point. We’ll take down these two guard-posts with a basic Pincer. We’ll run a Clear-and-Hold at Mission and 14th. There’s a choke-point here and one
here. Your team and I will approach from the east and take a position in this park across the street where the Patriots conduct their field training exercises. There’s an alleyway here between Mission and Julian Street. City Hall is here between Polk and Grove. This is the pier at the Embarcadero and the foot of Bryant. That’s where Granden and I will meet up with Dennis Kammet for the takeover of the vehicle yard once you and your Conspiracy are inside the Armory.”

  I still don’t know exactly what Rain and Wisp are doing, but they seem to be having a fun time doing it. “I think I understood about half of those words,” I say.

  Wisp and Rain laugh, and Rain waves me over. With more effort than it should take, I push myself up from my chair and leave Manthy and Olivia in the middle of a muted conversation about “intersynaptic techno-neurology,” “downloadable parallel arc synthesis,” “post-human ethics,” and a bunch of other things I don’t understand.

  Rain pats the seat next to her, and I sit down. “Enkulette is an attack-from-behind guerilla tactic. Clear-and-Hold is normally a counter-insurgency approach, but we’re going to modify it a bit to suit our own purposes. You know the Pincer and Flank Assault from our time in the Processor.”

  “Don’t remind me,” I say with a blush. “I’m not sure if they filled you in,” I say to Wisp, “but Rain and your brother made a habit of wiping out my team in our war games exercises back in the Processor.”

  “Actually, Rain filled me in yesterday when you went upstairs to check on Brohn and Cardyn,” Wisp says. “Don’t worry. She didn’t reveal too much.”

  “Whew.”

  “Only about how her team used to outsmart your team, trick you, turn you around, pick you off one by one, and make bets on how long it’d take to corner you. Oh, and that they won every single time.”

  “Thanks for not revealing too much,” I say to Rain, my voice oozing sarcasm.

  Rain throws up her hands. “Don’t blame me. We never agreed to keep your horrible battle skills a secret.”

  Wisp and Rain laugh, and I can’t help but laugh with them. With the chaos of rebellion swirling around us, it’s nice to remember there’s such a thing as light-heartedness, friendly banter, and even good-natured back-and-forth teasing.

  Fortunately, I’m spared further embarrassment by Brohn, who taps on the frame of the open doorway. Wisp shouts out his name and waves him in. He strides into the room and walks around the table to put his arm across my shoulders. “What are you all so happy about?” he asks.

  “Just taking a little stroll down amnesia lane,” I say. “How are things going upstairs? Got those pups ready yet?”

  Brohn laughs. “You saw it. It’s chaotic. We’ve barely got the rooms ready. The Insubordinates are enthusiastic. I’ll give them that. But we’ve got a very long few days ahead of us. It’s not enough time to do much more than teach them how not to get themselves—or us—killed.”

  “Where’s Card?”

  “Still upstairs with Granden. And I have to say, there’s definitely something about Cardyn.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, the Insubordinates listen to me. But he has a way of taking their focus to another level.”

  “You mean they follow his orders?”

  “Yes. Well, yes and no. They almost seem mesmerized by him. Like he gives an order or makes a suggestion, and I swear it’s like their eyes glaze over, and then they’re falling all over themselves to do his bidding. Especially the girls.”

  When he says this last part, I think I see Manthy’s ears perk up, but when I look over, she’s still engaged in her conversation with Olivia, so I figure I must’ve imagined it.

  “Plus,” Brohn continues, “he makes everyone laugh, which is something I don’t think many of them have done in a long time.”

  “Don’t discount the hero-worship factor,” Wisp interjects from across the table. “As I think you’re learning, you five have become something of a local legend these past couple of months. Ever since you left the Valta with the Recruiters, really.” Wisp goes back to rotating the holo-images, exploding them, contracting them, and scanning red lines of attack with her fingers into the glistening, multi-colored images. “Speaking of which…Rain’s been telling me about your battle-sims in the Processor.”

  “Yeah,” Brohn says with a wry smile and a wink in Rain’s direction. “I think we won every time, right?”

  I give Brohn a playful elbow to the side. He flinches and pretends like I just broke half his ribs. “If only you were this tough back in the battle-sims,” he jokes. “Of course, we wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you, so I think we can forgive you.” Brohn walks around to stand next to his sister and leans in to take a closer look at the holographic images and the dozens of scrolling information tags accompanying them. “So what’s going on down here?”

  Wisp and Rain fill Brohn in on our little reconnaissance project. He puts his hand to his chin and looks impressed at what we’ve accomplished so far. At one point, he walks back around the table to stand behind me, his hands on my shoulders as he continues to analyze the scrolling notations about strategy and the technical specs of the different buildings projected in front of us. I tell him about my surveillance missions around the city and about Ekker, the soldiers he shot, and the shot he took at Render.

  Brohn sits down next to me, his eyes going wide at this last bit of news, and he asks if I’m okay. I assure him I am, but he’s not convinced and begins to ask Wisp if it’s really necessary to push me this hard and put me into that kind of danger.

  “Technically,” I remind him, “it was Render in danger. I was sitting safely here.”

  “I was about to tell you not to worry,” Wisp says to Brohn. “But the truth is that some worry is perfectly justifiable. After all, this is war.”

  Brohn shakes his head and sighs. “Kress has been seeing some strange things through Render lately. I think she’s connected to that bird in more ways than any of us—her included—might realize.”

  Wisp agrees and says she’ll keep an eye on me. “I’ll be careful,” she promises, and I smile because I can tell she means it. “Now,” she says, “about our attack plan…”

  As Brohn looks on, Wisp and Rain go over the holo-schematics with me. They throw terms and tactics at me rapid-fire as they detail the elaborate system of simultaneous attacks we’re about to undertake in less than five days. They run through every strategy, street, alleyway, and corridor in every building we’re preparing to attack.

  “We’ll need you and Render to gather some more data tomorrow,” Wisp tells me.

  “Like what?”

  “Well, we’ll need to know more about their security protocols and the names of every guard and soldier we’re likely to encounter.”

  “I think that’s possible,” I assure her with a confidence I only partly feel.

  Rain fills Brohn in on the major sites we’re going to target. “This is the Munitions Depot. This is Communications Central. And this is Command Headquarters.”

  “And we’re going to hit all three, right?” Brohn asks.

  “At the same time,” Wisp says. “Yes. Among other targets. We’ll have nine teams performing different functions, most of them in an around the Armory, although there are some other tactical targets in the city we’ll need to address. We can’t improvise or take any chances. Coordination will be key. The day before we head out, we’ll assign Cardyn and Manthy to brief the Insubordinates and keep them on the same page. Manthy knows the tech part of the plan. And, if Cardyn is as convincing as you say, he just might be the perfect person to help her fill in the gaps.”

  I look down the length of the table to where Manthy is still immersed in quiet conversation with Olivia, both of them barely visible and apparently oblivious in the deep shadows of Olivia’s work station. “I’m not one hundred percent sure it’s a good idea to team Cardyn up with Manthy on this project,” I say behind my hand to Wisp. “They tend to bicker.”

  “They also tend to get t
hings done,” Rain reminds me. “It was the work they did together on the truck back in Reno that got us this far in the first place.”

  “True,” I sigh. “I just don’t want to have this very nice plan of ours go slanted because those two insist on turning into squabbling Neos whenever they’re together.”

  Wisp shakes her head. “I’m sorry we don’t have more time. But our window is small. If we don’t make our move before the big platoon of reinforcements gets here first thing Saturday morning, we won’t have the numbers later on to carry it off. I know it’s a lot to absorb. Do you think you can remember all this?”

  “Trust me,” Rain says, flicking her thumb in my direction. “She’ll remember. This one remembers everything.”

  Brohn agrees and brags to Wisp about how my brain has turned into an infinite data-storage unit.

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” I object as I give him a playful slap on the shoulder. I tap my temple. “Things have just been a little clearer and are sticking around a little longer is all.”

  “Speaking of sticking around,” Brohn says, pushing himself up from his seat, “As much as I’d love to stay here with you, I need to get back upstairs. Cardyn gets so lonely, you know?”

  I laugh as Brohn leans over to give me a hug goodbye and a kiss on the cheek and then he’s out the door with a backward wave of his hand.

  “So this is happening?” Wisp asks, her eyes darting between me and the open doorway where her brother is just disappearing from view. “You and Brohn?”

  “It’s complicated,” I say as I stare down at the table.

  “As long as it doesn’t complicate things,” Wisp says. Her voice is playful, but I pick up on a hint of seriousness in there as well. “Let’s get back to work.”