Rebels of Eden

Home > Nonfiction > Rebels of Eden > Page 30
Rebels of Eden Page 30

by Joey Graceffa

I’m just looking at my unconscious mom in shock. “She turned on me,” I say in disbelief. “EcoPan can control anyone. It didn’t even need Ellena’s programs.” I can hear my voice rising to a hysterical pitch. “It can get any of us! Whenever it wants to. We’re just puppets to EcoPan. It lets us imagine we have free will, but it can control us anytime it wants to!”

  Lachlan rushes to my side. “Not me,” he says as he takes my hands. “I never had lenses, so it can’t control me. I’m always on your side, Rowan. You can always trust me.”

  I take a deep breath. One person on my side. And Carnelian, too. And the other second children, the ones who never had lens implants.

  At best, a few hundred people who don’t want to stop me. That leaves, what, almost a million people under EcoPan’s control.

  But what about me? Why aren’t I affected? Flame and Angel and Ash had the surgery that was supposed to sever EcoPan’s connection, same as me. They succumbed, but I didn’t. Why?

  Because of me, Yarrow says, and suddenly her awareness seems to overwhelm my own. Let me take control, and I’ll keep EcoPan out of your head. She’s separate from the Rowan part of my brain, and unconnected to EcoPan. Usually I make an effort to keep the Yarrow part of me subdued. I—Rowan—never want to feel like I’m out of control. But EcoPan can access Rowan. He can’t get to Yarrow. I relax the mental control that usually keeps Yarrow partially contained. Immediately I feel EcoPan’s presence diminish. I can’t tell if it is completely gone, though, or just hiding, lurking.

  I look out the window to the concentric circles of Eden, the well-ordered streets. There are people on the streets—a lot of them. They aren’t going to work. They aren’t shopping or socializing.

  They’re marching.

  Directly toward the Center.

  “They’re coming for us,” I whisper.

  “Who?” Carnelian asks distractedly as he struggles to understand the unfamiliar programming.

  “All of Eden.”

  Lachlan stands at my side, staring at the citizen army coming inexorably toward us. Under EcoPan’s command, they will stop us. They will tear us apart to save EcoPan. It seems hopeless.

  Unless . . .

  “Can you access the transportation system from here?” I ask Carnelian.

  “I thought you wanted me to take down the artificial desert,” he says. “I’m working on that. We need to free everyone, right?”

  “Humanity will never be free as long as EcoPan is operational. We’ve been in prison long enough. It is time for all of us to be completely free. And that means destroying the EcoPanopticon. We need to get to Mira’s garden.”

  “Flame cued up the controls for Chief Ellena’s private hypertube,” Carnelian says, “so getting to the outer circle should be easy—as long as EcoPan doesn’t regain control. And as for the desert . . .” He types in a few commands. “Well, that was easier than I thought. There’s basically an on-off code. Okay, I have the desert down.”

  “Then lets get out of here!” Lachlan urges. “They’re converging on the Center to stop us. We’re trapped!” Carnelian presses a button, and a section of floor on the far side of the huge room opens up. A pod rises and the gull-wing doors open.

  “But won’t EcoPan take over control?” Lachlan asks.

  “Even a supercomputer can’t do everything at once. I think it is taking all of its resources to manipulate the population right now. The city is on a separate system from EcoPan’s main programming. I can still access the basic systems of Eden. For now.”

  “We better hurry then,” Lachlan says.

  Before we go, I kiss my unconscious mom, then walk to the door, where I can hear someone banging on the other side. The door is secure, though—Chief Ellena made sure of that—and almost completely soundproof so that even though I can hear the faintest muffled shouting, I can’t tell which one of them it is. Still, I press my palm to the door, then lean my cheek against it.

  “I don’t want to say goodbye,” I whisper. “Not yet. Not ever. I’ll find you again, Lark. I promise. No matter what happens, I’ll be with you again. And Ash, take care of yourself. If I don’t make it back, I know you’re strong enough to survive. I love you.”

  I kiss the door, hastily wipe away a tear. I see Carnelian deliberately break his eyes away from Mira’s body. If he kisses her, if he holds her, he might never manage to let her go.

  At the last moment he goes back. “I can’t leave her. I have to bring her home, to the wilderness she loved.”

  I nod. It’s the right thing to do, without a doubt.

  We get into the transport, and when the doors close Carnelian sets the coordinates to take us to the outermost circle.

  It is a harrowing journey. All the while, I expect the transport to lurch to a halt, for security bots to tear the capsule open and rip us to pieces. But we travel unmolested beneath the city until the transport comes to a halt.

  “End of the line, apparently,” Carnelian says.

  “I’m not sure exactly where we are,” Lachlan admits. “Hopefully we’re in the outermost circle.” We climb the ladder to the afternoon sunlight, not knowing what we might find.

  We’re not quite where we hoped to be. There, before us, is one of the bridges across the narrow waterways separating each of the circles. On the other side is the outermost circle, with our allies and friends, the second children and rebels. The second children at least must be free of EcoPan’s control. But what about the others? The disruptor we had with us wasn’t enough to keep Lark, Flame, and the rest free once EcoPan decided to take over. But maybe that was what kept them confused for a while. Maybe that was what helped Mom fight the control long enough to not shoot her own daughter. And out here, with more complete saturation, maybe EcoPan’s inflence is likewise limited.

  Whatever we may find with the rebels, right now we have to deal with the remnants of Chief Ellena’s army.

  The Chief is dead; they have no leadership, no orders. They have ceased their attack, but are holding position. Chief Ellena no longer controls them. But EcoPan still has access to their brains.

  “Stop right there!” one of the Greenshirts shouts when he notices us. At once, thirty of them, all the forces guarding this bridge, have their guns trained on us.

  Although we’re hopelessly outnumbered, Lachlan and I aim our guns, too. It’s an impossible standoff. We might take down several of them, but there’s no doubt that they’ll slaughter us. For a tense moment we all hold this position. Carnelian carries Mira’s body, looking hopeless.

  Then I lower my gun. “We surrender!” I shout.

  “What are you doing?” Lachlan hisses.

  “They’ll drag us back to the Center!” Carnelian says.

  “Trust me,” I insist.

  After a pause, Lachlan drops his weapons along with me. We hold up our hands, but as the Greenshirts move in to take us into custody I move behind Lachlan and adjust the controls of Flame’s disruptor, which he wears strapped over his shoulder.

  Eight of the Greenshirts have approached. The odds are too great for us to fight. Except, as soon as they step within range, the disruptor takes effect on them and they holster their weapons, looking confused. They don’t know what to do, but their own natures are fighting EcoPan’s commands.

  The ranking officer shakes his head quickly to clear it, his cap flying off in the process. “Who are you?” he asks.

  “Citizens returning to our homes,” I say.

  “Let me check your ID,” he says, and swipes a handheld scanner near our eyes. Our fake lens identities pop up, making us look like normal citizens.

  “Okay,” he says, waving us on. Just be careful. There’s been some trouble around here. Not sure what yet. We’re investigating.”

  Freed from all control, his muddled brain is doing its best to process the situation. He knows he’s responsible for public safety, knows there’s some sort of incident, but can’t quite figure things out. So he reverts to training and after a polite check sends us home t
o clear the streets.

  The eight near us act like that, respectful public servants.

  The twelve or so beyond the range of our disruptor are still pointing guns at us.

  “Halt!” they shout to us.

  “Stand down!” the freed eight shout back. “They’ve been cleared.”

  Now none of them know what is happening. The ones between us and the bridge yearn to aggressively challenge us, just like EcoPan wants. Except, I don’t think EcoPan can give them precise instructions. Right now, it seems like it has altered their adrenaline and testosterone levels, boosted their levels of aggression and excitement to make them meet every threat with maximum force. But they aren’t as controlled as people were under Chief Ellena, so when their superior tells them to stand down, but something in their brain is telling them to attack, they don’t know what to do.

  Slowly, nonthreateningly, we walk forward, and I can see the change that overwhelms them as soon as they come in range of the disruptor. The aggression melts; they are friendly, courteous . . . while those behind us suddenly become angry and aggressive again when they fall out of range.

  We keep a bubble of passivity around us, and it is enough to get us to the bridge, and beyond. The rebels have built a makeshift barrier of furniture and garbage and broken bots, anything they can find to hold off the attack they thought was coming. We find a way through, and are met by none other than Rook, Lachlan’s brother, looking haggard and weary.

  “What happened?” he asks, looking sadly at Mira’s body, Carnelian’s raw grief.

  Lachlan hugs him, and quickly explains what is going on.

  “EcoPan can’t touch us out here,” Rook tells us. “We have full saturation of the disruptors. This is a safe zone.”

  “At least, for now,” Carnelian says grimly, and explains how EcoPan is busy rewriting its programming to counteract all of their resistance. “It can’t be long before EcoPan figures out how to break in.”

  “The desert is down,” Lachlan says.

  “What do you mean, down?” Rook asks in confusion. We explain that it is all a creation of EcoPan that can be deactivated with little more than a flip of a switch.

  “But it might come back online any moment. We have to start evacuating rebels out of Eden. Away from the city, EcoPan’s influence might be weaker.”

  “No,” I say. “The first priority has to be destroying EcoPan once and for all.”

  “We can still get the rebels out, though,” Lachlan says. “With the citizen army swarming, we have to keep them safe.”

  “The rebels will be safe,” I say. “It’s us that EcoPan is after. Right now, we can’t risk taking everyone out with us. The disruptors might keep people with lenses free from EcoPan’s commands here in the outer circle, but once we cross the desert, we don’t know what will happen. If we have people with lenses with us, they might turn on us as soon as we’re out of the disruptor range.”

  “What about portable disruptors?” Lachlan asks.

  “No, she’s right,” Rook says. “They’re only truly effective when there are a lot of them in close proximity and they make a feedback effect. We could take some with us across the desert, but even the people who have had the protective surgery—like me—might succumb.”

  “I hate to say it, but we can only bring the second children,” I tell them.

  He smiles with wry regret. “Looks like I stay behind on this adventure, little brother.”

  “Gather up as many of the second children as you can,” Lachlan tells him. “We need to cross as soon as possible. Tell them not to pack, not to hesitate. This is their once chance at freedom.” He grips his brother by the shoulders. “And I promise you, Rook, if we are successful, we will come back and free everyone.”

  “And I promise you in return,” Rook says, “even if you fail, I will never stop fighting to free our people. I fight for all of Eden!”

  We run to the barrier made of the refuse of past generations, the wall of garbage that divides the outermost circle from the desert. While Rook gathers the second children, we find a place where most of the trash has been pulled down. People have been trying more and more to cross the desert. Trying, and failing.

  It doesn’t take long before they are gathered. I can’t tell if all of the second children are here, but I see all the familiar faces I’m looking for—Iris, the children, and most of the adults I knew in the Underground. I stand on the remains of the rubble heap, waiting for everyone to be ready, assuming Lachlan is going to make an announcement. But I realize with a shock that they are all looking to me.

  “You brought them the journal, the truth about Aaron Al-Baz,” Lachlan whispers. “You crossed the desert to the promise land, and returned to lead your people forth.”

  “You did just as much as me,” I whisper back.

  Lachlan shakes his head. “This is all because of you, Rowan. You are their inspiration—their prophet. Speak to them!”

  Shy Rowan who has spent most of her life alone, behind a wall, quails at the prospect. But I look out at all those hopeful faces, and somehow manage to find the strength to climb higher and address them. Yarrow, who has no problem being the center of attention, certainly helps.

  “Eden forbids siblings, but you are all my brothers and sisters,” I begin. My voice falters at first, then finds its strength and I go on.

  “Some of you were born free, never to have the lenses that this society uses to monitor and control you.” I look beyond the cluster of second children to the rebels behind them, the regular citizens of Eden. “Some of you chose to fight for your freedom, to strip away EcoPan’s control as much as you could. We are all battling for the same thing, and now, at last, we have a chance to win our freedom from EcoPan once and for all. Today, I take the second children across the desert, where we will destroy EcoPan!”

  There are cheers . . . but there are just as many worried, even angry murmurs. “EcoPan isn’t the problem,” someone shouts. “Other people are the problem!”

  Part of me wants to agree. EcoPan might have the ability to control us, but it is other people—corrupt leaders, cruel policies, ignorance, ambition—that combine to make things truly bad in Eden. Still, EcoPan is the best target. Without its meddling, we have a chance to prove that humans have learned from the lessons of history.

  So I press on, ignoring any doubts I may have. At this crucial moment, they need inspiration, not confusion.

  “We need to be free!” I declare. “There is a whole world out there, full of life and space, full of plants and animals, just waiting for us!” I shudder at the thought of what will happen to all that pristine beauty if this goes wrong. “Today, I call upon the second children to join me.”

  “What about the rest of us?” someone calls from the back.

  I look sadly across the sea of faces, and explain to them that however dedicated and trustworthy they may be here, once they are outside of the disruptors’ influence they may not be able to control themselves. “Anyone with lenses could turn on us. My own mother tried to kill me when I decided to take down EcoPan. She was ordered to, and had no choice. I hate to do it, but we have to leave you behind for now.” I echo Lachlan’s words to his brother. “But I vow to you, if we succeed, I will make sure that every man, woman, and child of Eden finds freedom in the living world beyond the desert! There will be no more inner and outer circles, no more elites, no more second-class citizens or rejected children. This is not just a matter of life or death—it is a question of freedom or slavery! We must all be free! We are all the chosen people!”

  They break into shouts and applause, and Rook takes the stage.

  “The rest of us will stay behind and cover your escape. We’ll hold off the citizen army as long as we can, to give you every chance to destroy EcoPan. Every rebel here would die to keep their freedom, to keep other people and machines out of their brains!”

  And I can’t help but wonder, Is death better than slavery? What if EcoPan got it right, if its mind control an
d monitoring were more benevolent? Would that still be worse than death?

  For myself, I know what choice I’d make.

  But how could I make that choice for anyone else?

  A SHORT WHILE later, we move swiftly through the forest of bean trees. It is a small army, maybe two hundred people. Even the youngest children have come. I was torn about that, but decided that there was danger both before us and behind us. This might be their only chance at freedom.

  And now the desert looms before us.

  A cool, pleasant desert, a beach lacking only the ocean to make it perfect.

  “I can’t believe it,” Iris says as she tentatively puts a booted toe into the sand. “This has kept us trapped in here for generations. People have died trying to cross it, or been swallowed by nanosand. And it was all fake? It could be turned off?”

  As she looks across the now cool desert, I can tell she’s realizing keenly how much everything she knew was a lie, an illusion.

  “What can I trust now?” she asks.

  “You can trust us,” Lachlan says, putting a gentle arm over her shoulders and helping her across the loose sand.

  “You’ve done this, Rowan,” Lachlan says as our group marches. “You changed everything that everyone in Eden has ever known. Nothing will ever be the same again.”

  A crow flies overhead, curious about this new expanse it could never explore before. It is miraculous how nature will fill any available niche. As soon as the desert is passable, animals want to explore it. The crow flaps lazily over our heads toward Eden. A moment later, though, it returns the way it came, flying at top speed.

  What it found was not compatible with the quiet life it had known.

  I think of the million people in Eden, what they must look like to the crow. What would happen to that bird, to all of the wildlife, if everyone in Eden poured out?

  With certain misgivings, I take Lachlan’s hand, and together we cross the desert. Carnelian and the second children follow closely behind.

  We haven’t quite crossed the halfway point when I feel an ominous tremor beneath my feet. My first thought is of an earthquake, which I once experienced not far from here. But then there is a soft whooshing sound, and suddenly the desert becomes a furnace of dry, searing heat.

 

‹ Prev