by Brandt Legg
“PAWN is ready for war.”
“I need to know how to stop it. Where do I send my troops?”
“All current deployments are on target. Our conclusions state that only the woman can delay war.”
“And killing her?”
“Assures war begins before her body burns.”
“So we must capture her alive. And then?”
“You lie and manipulate until she believes your intentions toward reform are equal to hers.”
“Then we’ll need full brain scans on her so I can understand what she wants.”
“She wants peace.”
“How do you know?”
“Because we are not at war yet.”
“Perfect. I want peace too until it’s time to kill all the scum.”
Drast gave the order to send a Neuron-mite unit into the area where they expected to find the woman, and he wanted full brain scans to begin as soon as they found her. He also gave the verbal command to wipe the last fifteen minutes of memory from the DesTIn. It was one of the reasons he liked them so much – loyalty was programmable.
The INUs floated and spun, and when he couldn’t see it all fast enough, he danced and twisted as two more INUs shot across the space and zipped into place. Something was there in all the images and data formulas, and he had to find it.
Lance Miner had moved his operations for the moment to Denver. For reasons unknown, but most likely related to weather control, that city had grown when others had declined. Many population shifts had occurred around the globe and could easily be understood. Without oil and gas, Houston and Dallas had shrunk to population levels of the 1920s, and Texas, instead, had become one large-scale solar farm. Earthquake-risky Los Angeles had seen its number of residents drop by seventy-five percent since the Banoff. But, just as risky, San Francisco had maintained its pre-Banoff level, perhaps because much of the world’s high-tech industries were still based in the northern California Area.
Sarlo entered her boss’s office and stared for only a brief moment at the rugged, snow-capped Rocky Mountains stretching into a cloudless sky of deep blue. The majestic peaks seemed ready to push away the stars as soon as night came. Denver was her favorite office. Most people toiled away with digital views out their window, gorgeous, changeable, and super-high-definition, but Miner preferred real ones. “I can tell the difference,” he always said.
“Why are we in Denver?” she asked.
Sometimes she thought she was in love with Miner, other times she thought him an egomaniacal monster bent on world domination. But she always thrived on his aura of power. She really was helping to rule the world, and that kind of drug is addictive beyond all reasoning.
“Research,” Miner said, staring out the window on the opposite wall where he could see the skyline of glass needles and shiny silver spires that had been built mostly in the last four decades.
She had guessed as much. Denver was now a center for people with implants. Not as big as the implant communities in old Mexico and Asia, but she suspected that Lance didn’t want to be far away from the hunt for the woman. It amused her that Miner didn’t trust communications channels enough to conduct his “research” over the Field. Instead, he almost always flew to the source.
“What are we researching?”
“PAWN,” he announced. She had also figured that out, but what he said next shocked her so completely that she nearly collapsed. “And Booker Lipton’s second son.”
Sarlo thought she knew everything about Deuce Lipton, at least as much as her boss knew.
“Booker Lipton had another son?”
“Still does,” Miner said, enjoying her surprise.
“You mean he’s alive? Deuce Lipton has a living uncle?”
“So it would seem. Do you recall Booker Lipton’s missing years?”
“Of course. He vanished for a decade after the Banoff,” Sarlo said, easily recounting the long-memorized facts of the Lipton family.
“His wife gave birth to a second son during that time, Deuce’s father’s younger brother. And they kept him hidden. Kept it a secret.”
“For seventy years?”
“Yes.”
“How? Why?”
Miner looked at his assistant as if she’d asked him to explain where babies come from. “It’s the Liptons.”
She nodded. “Secrecy is their business, I know, but‒‒ ”
“We just intercepted a conversation between Deuce’s kids Twain and Tycen.”
“That doesn’t happen too often,” she said, impressed.
“New technology. It’s shaky, but it tracks and aligns with DNA, and once we have a link it’s tough to beat.”
“Whoa.”
“Yeah, unfortunately it is still very buggy. Cuts out more than it’s in.”
“Do we have it on both of them?”
“Just Tycen at this point. But we’ll get Twain too.”
“And the uncle, I just can’t believe it. Why so secret?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out.”
Chapter 42
It took Runit a while to find Chelle. The building was large, busy with activity, and he moved in slow motion. He finally found her on the main level, pulling books as if nothing had happened.
“Where’s Nelson?” he asked.
“Outside. Smoking, drinking, reliving painful memories.” She waved a hand dismissively.
“I want out of this.”
She just looked at him.
“I can’t escape, can I?” he asked hesitantly.
“No.”
He stared into her eyes for a moment, and then beyond at the books and on into forever.
“We’re doing a good thing here,” she added.
“Do you remember when we were going in for the shots and you cried?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And you held me?”
She closed her eyes and sighed. “I was protecting you.” Her response was unexpected, and his confused look prompted her to take his arm. “Come with me.” She led him to a small sitting area under one of the large windows. The chairs, large and soft, were meant for reading, and they both fit into one comfortably. “I gave you an anti-dose.”
“What do you mean?”
“With a patch through your skin, at your neck and wrists. I gave you an anti-dose to counter the effects of the state’s booster shot.”
“Why?” he asked, the betrayal he’d felt earlier now compounded by this newest violation.
“The government is controlling and poisoning the population through the regular injections.” She held his gaze. “No one is safe as long as they’re getting the shots.”
“Do you have proof of this? Because the last time I checked the health of the world it was pretty damned good. There hasn’t been a major outbreak since the Banoff, and every time something flares up somewhere the Health-Circle comes up with a way to defeat it within weeks.”
“Don’t you find that suspicious?”
“Is there proof or not?”
“There is.”
“I’d like to see it.”
“Forgive me for not carrying it with me. But don’t worry Runit, I’ll make it a priority to show you the proof of the conspiracy even though you probably won’t understand it or allow yourself to believe it.”
“Why did you give me, what did you call it, the anti-dose? Why am I so important?”
“Because I care about you.”
“Really? I wish that were true. Chelle, you have no idea how much I want to believe that. . . or maybe you do. Maybe that’s why you’ve been able to play me so well. I simply would like to know why? For the books? No. . . there’s something else.”
“I get why you don’t believe me. I do. We’ve had to keep a lot from you and‒‒”
“And you’ve lied a lot, and for what? For your revolution? Well, do you know what George Orwell said? ‘In a time of deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act.’ This is the man that wrote 1984.”
<
br /> “I’m sorry Runit, but I really hope you’ll forgive me and trust me. My entire cause is about bringing out the truth.”
“Ha! You really are a piece of work.”
“That same day we protected Grandyn too. He was given the anti-dose. That wouldn’t have happened. Grandyn isn’t vital to the cause. But I made sure he was spared too because of my feelings for you.”
“We thank you very much,” he said sarcastically. “But for all I know you’ve put him at risk of death. I mean, Chelle, you’re asking me to take your word over that of the Health-Circle, which has kept me healthy my whole life. And your credibility isn’t exactly the most reputable at the moment.”
She nodded. “You’ve had to learn a lot of unpleasant things today. But ask yourself how you feel when we’re together. How you’ve felt from that first moment the other day, after I got back in town. Was I manipulating you into feeling that way? Was the attraction mutual?”
He stood there dry mouthed. She moved closer.
“Is the attraction . . .” her voice hushed in breathy syllables, “mutual? Is it?” Her lips were only inches away. “Runit, I don’t have time for distractions. You’re the very last thing I need in my rather complicated life right now. And yet, here you are.”
“I don’t know what’s real anymore,” he said, trying to mask his disappointment.
“Nothing is real other than the moment we’re in. Don’t you get it? Life is only about this.”
She reached behind his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He wanted desperately to resist, to push her away and to yell at her for all the betrayal he felt. Instead, he returned the kiss as if her mouth was his only source of life-sustaining oxygen.
Chapter 43
The plumber caught Runit and Chelle in their moment. He’d report their kiss to Deuce in a few minutes, but now, “Bad news,” he snapped.
They were startled out of their passionate embrace. “What now?” Runit asked, annoyed on so many levels.
“I’ve just received reports that the AOI is on high alert in the Pacyfik region. They’re mobilizing substantial assets, and extra units are arriving in Portland as we speak. Salem, Eugene, and Medford are also under similar scrutiny, but the whole northwest is lighting up. It’s a massive buildup.”
“They know,” Runit said.
“It’s a show of force,” Chelle mused.
“Of course it is,” Runit replied.
“No. What I’m saying is they do not know about this operation,” Chelle explained, returning to her military-like persona. “They may know something is going on, but if they knew we were taking the books we’d already be in jail. They don’t need to thump the whole region just to arrest us. No, I’d say with certainty that they do not know.”
“I’d have to agree,” the plumber added.
“Fine,” Runit said, knowing he was far from the espionage expert in the conversation. “But how are we supposed to get the books out when AOI is all over the place?”
“We’ll find a way,” Chelle said.
“Is Deuce going to help?” Runit asked the plumber.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” the plumber barked.
“I mean more help, now that the AOI is such a problem.”
“We’ve got twenty-nine people in this right now. Mr. Lipton is taking a serious risk as it is.”
“We’ll be fine,” Chelle said as she pulled Nelson up on her INU. “What’s the status?” she asked him.
He looked awful, a few drinks away from disaster. It took him several seconds to respond. “We’re on track to complete the load-out by 08:00 hours Sunday morning.”
She looked at Runit, and then at the plumber.
“We can’t go a minute past midnight. We might have to leave some behind,” Runit said.
“Not an option,” Chelle said. “Runit, you’ve got to step up. These are your books. This is your responsibility. Put all that disappointment and disillusionment into this one task. Save the damned books!”
Oddly, her little pep talk permeated his numb psyche. “Nelson, send that run to my Eysen. I’m going to see where we are with the loading downstairs. Grandyn and his TreeRunners can find some extra energy for a few more hours,” Runit said while jogging away and added, looking directly at the plumber, “Meanwhile, I hope we can count on Deuce to help keep the AOI at bay.”
For hours they worked machine-like. Even Nelson switched to coffee and, with the help of a few additional TreeRunners, by 21:14 hours the DesTIn finally showed them completing the task before midnight – at 23:57 hours – although it would still be close unless they could get the numbers down even more in the next couple of hours. During that time, the news from the outside world worsened as reports of AOI checkpoints, arrests, and executions came in via the plumber.
“Why is the AOI so scared?” Runit asked Chelle as they left a brief update meeting.
“I don’t know what has them spooked.”
He looked at her doubtfully. “How high up are you in PAWN?”
“Not as high as you think.”
“How high? Are you like a commander? A general?”
“They don’t use ranks like AOI. They have numbers. Everyone is a number. The top leader is number one.” She looked at him, as if telling him this much was a strain.
“Then tell me your number.”
“I’m twelve.”
“Wow,” Runit said, impressed. He didn’t think she’d actually be that high. “And Nelson?”
“He’s two thousand something.”
“Just how many are there?”
“More than eighty thousand.”
“How on Earth has this been kept secret so long?”
“Because it’s generational. Most of the members have been brought up in PAWN. Their parents and grandparents were members, and many, too many, have loved ones who were executed or imprisoned by the AOI.”
“Do you have weapons?”
“Runit, are you with us?”
“Is there a choice?”
“Do you believe something is terribly wrong?”
That was certainly a statement he could agree to without any hesitation. “Yes, something is terribly wrong.”
“And . . . ?”
“And, I’m with you. ‘He had learned the worst lesson that life can teach – that it makes no sense.’ Philip Roth,” Runit said.
“Really, do you know what else he said? ‘All that we don’t know is astonishing. Even more astonishing is what passes for knowing.’ See, you’re not the only one who can quote dead authors.”
He could not help but smile. Not loving her was kind of like not breathing, but only the latter would happen when he died.
“We’re going to win,” she said.
“Then you must have a lot of weapons, because the AOI is, by design, the ultimate force. We’ve got at least fifteen books on their history. They are what has kept the peace all these years, and they’ve done it by being without weakness, so that no one would ever challenge them.”
“I know the history. Why do you think the revolution has taken more than seventy years to surface?”
“You said we’re going to win. How soon?”
“Hard to say. Another year or two?”
“Two years after surfacing? That’s a long time. At what cost will this victory come?”
“Victory always costs more than defeat, and change often commands a high price.”
Exhaustion ran through the dimly lit library like an oppressive humidity draped across a tropical island before a hurricane. Runit checked the time; 23:18 hours. They had forty-two minutes until midnight. The stepped-up AOI patrols throughout the city had slowed the process, but still, they were going to make it.
Chelle had made sure to keep Nelson away from Runit, and neither of them had a problem avoiding the other. There wasn’t the time to explore the past. All they could do was try to save it. It had taken a collective strength and mental stamina that could only be described as monumental to get the books pulled,
bundled, and loaded. But Nelson, returning from an outside bac break, ran into Runit as he was checking the final loading.
“Do you ever do anything but smoke and drink?” Runit asked.
“Let’s not do this now,” Nelson said. “Please, tomorrow, when the books all are safe, I’ll meet you wherever you want and we can have a good old-fashioned fistfight or a duel at ten paces, I don’t care. But let’s not endanger the operation and everyone in this building by losing it now.”
“Spoken like a true coward,” Runit said.
“One of the trucks just got stopped by the AOI,” the plumber announced when he found Runit and Nelson at the backdoor.
Grandyn, who somehow hadn’t heard his dad and “uncle” arguing, overheard the plumber. He looked to Runit with weary eyes, registering panic.
“Let’s get out of here,” Runit said.
“We’ve got just two more loads,” Nelson said. “And the priorities got mixed up in all the confusion. They’re important books from the private collections.”
“Why’d they get stopped?” Runit asked the plumber.
“We don’t know yet. Might just be routine. He showed them the live scene patched in from a nearby KEL camera. The technology impressed Nelson, and the view of real-time events, pulled up on command, stunned Runit anew, reminding him of the executions he’d watched.
“I know we have nothing like the privacy our ancestors enjoyed before the Banoff, but this is astonishing. Do they watch me sleep?” Runit asked.
The plumber pointed to the VM. The AOI agents were ordering the driver out of the truck.
“If they make him open the load-doors, we’re dead,” Nelson said. “It would take them about five minutes to trace all those books back here.”
“Less,” the plumber said as he talked into his wrist and used his other hand to manipulate VMs, suddenly filling the air around them.
“What are you doing?” Runit asked.
“Getting people there.”
“Are you prepared to start an open war based on this incident?” Nelson asked.
The plumber ignored him.
