The Justar Journal: An AOI Thriller

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The Justar Journal: An AOI Thriller Page 27

by Brandt Legg


  “Is it accurate? Because I do not trade in lies. Nothing robs a man faster than lies. It’s a dark world, where no one trusts anybody,” Blaise said, pontificating for his own pleasure.

  Deuce looked up in the ceiling where the stars of the Andromeda galaxy were visible. Blaise seemed oblivious to the planetarium above them, but Deuce knew Blaise missed nothing, so had chosen to ignore the beautiful slice of the brilliantly recreated universe. “Do you know that the Andromeda galaxy is moving toward our own Milky Way at more than a million kilometers per hour? In five billion years, the two galaxies will collide.”

  “Andromeda is actually moving toward us at 1,078,260 kilometers per hour,” Blaise corrected. “But not to worry. The human species will long be safely away from Earth as our sun, a 4.6 billion-year-old yellow dwarf star with a diameter of 1,392,684 kilometers, will, approximately 130 million years after it burns through all its hydrogen, become a red giant, engulf Mercury and Venus, and finally consume Earth.”

  Deuce smiled, finding it impossible not to like Blaise. He wondered, yet again, if his implant denials could possibly be true.

  “Yes, the information I need Miner to receive is accurate. There is a PAWN facility in Colorado near Black Canyon. It’s their largest.” Deuce moved his fingers around holographic controls. “I’ve just sent the details to your Eysen. You should sell this information to Miner.”

  “Indulge me with two questions.”

  Deuce nodded.

  “Why are you betraying an organization that I’ve known you to support? And why Miner, instead of selling it to Polis Drast?”

  “Do you really not know the answers?”

  “There is a difference between knowing the answers and being sure of them,” Blaise said. “I need to be certain how big the bang will be, and who is lighting the fuse.”

  “Sometimes in order to avoid war, a battle must be lost,” Deuce said. “If the AOI sees how big the opposition is, they may throttle down. And if PAWN suffers such a blow, they will have to delay the rebellion.”

  “Those are big ‘if,’ and a risky strategy . . . but it might work,” Blaise said. “What about my second question?”

  “You know as well as I do that Polis Drast wants war. Needs it to fulfill his ambitions to become the next World Premier. If he gets the PAWN base info first, he’ll turn it into a pretext for war. Miner, on the other hand, wants peace more than even I do, and he still has the power to prevent this silent war from turning into something loud and unstoppable.”

  “Consider it done,” Blaise said, smiling. “I’m always happy to do a deal where I make money on both sides. Have one hundred million digis in my account in the next five minutes. And don’t worry. I’ll charge Miner ten times that amount. This is a big one. Many will die, the balance of power might shift, and war, at least for now, might just be averted.”

  Chapter 57

  Runit and Grandyn spent hours searching for the secret books. The bundles provided some organization, but not much.

  “Talk about a needle in a haystack!” Runit said.

  Grandyn laughed. The old barn did, in fact, have plenty of hay bales, and the books were stacked haphazardly throughout. “Your system is something only a librarian could understand,” he said, pointing to a pile near the center of the cavernous space where the truck had once been.

  “If we’d only known about the eight missing books before we moved everything,” Runit said while reading spines.

  “Don’t be so frustrated Dad. We’ll find them.”

  “They may not have even made it out of the building. They may be ashes,” he said, shuddering while remembering the horrifying scene of the books being burned. “The books we’re looking for could even be in the batch Chelle let Deuce Lipton take.”

  “Where are Chelle and Nelson, anyway?”

  “Meeting with some important PAWN leaders.”

  “I thought Munna was the leader,” Grandyn said.

  “She’s just one of them. More of a figurehead really.”

  Grandyn nodded.

  Later, after temporarily suspending the search for the missing eight books, Runit and Grandyn went to their lodgings for the night. They tried to sleep in the back room of the ancient building that, at one time, had been part of a large vineyard. The AOI had stepped up the Doneharvest throughout the day. Raids and arrests were happening all over the Pacyfik. More AOI personnel were arriving every hour, and the PAWN agents assigned to keep Runit and Grandyn safe thought it best to keep them in a dark and musty wine cellar, minus the bottles. It could have been a bomb shelter, and Runit might have felt safer if he didn’t feel so isolated. The two front rooms above them were occupied by the three PAWN rebels.

  The one who had brought them to the winery would continue on with them in the morning to another remote location in the long process of hiding and protecting the last librarian. Munna had requested it, and Chelle had convinced the leaders of her faction that there was no one else among them who could identify the important works hidden among the stolen cache. She refused to say how the information about secret books within books had been obtained, but her sway among the top rebels was strong. The books would be moved too, but it might be several more days until Runit could get another look at them.

  Runit gave the precious copy of Cormac McCarthey’s The Road to his son. It was like an old friend coming home. Grandyn had read it three years earlier at his father’s urging. “It seems to have new meaning now,” Runit said.

  Grandyn nodded and silently reflected on the plot. “Do you believe it?” Grandyn asked. “That Mom was part of PAWN and that she might have discovered something?”

  “I’m afraid so. There was a lot about your mother that she chose not to share with me,” he said, thinking of the fling with Nelson. They talked well into the night about Harper, PAWN, the way to find codes or messages hidden in books, and about their new lives as rebels. Runit was tired, but he had much to process, and talking it through with the person he loved most in the world, as they lay there in the dark, made him feel much more sure about everything that had happened.

  “Dad, you haven’t said anything about watching the books burn,” Grandyn said as they were on the verge of sleep.

  “Half of me wants to pretend it never happened. The other half never wants to forget,” Runit said quietly. “It was like watching evil.”

  “I grew up in that beautiful library with those wonderful books. I don’t know how you could bear to watch it all burn. The books were my friends, always there teaching me, making me laugh, and taking me places . . . so many places.”

  “They were part of our family,” Runit agreed and, after a long pause, added, “When the flames grew and the heat was really intense, I swear I could hear them screaming.”

  “We saved all we could.”

  “But for how long?”

  “People died for those books. Real people. Friends that I loved.” Grandyn’s voice cut through the blackness of the musty cellar. “I will not allow their deaths to be in vain. I’ll fight forever to preserve them, until we get rid of Aylantik.”

  “I don’t want you to become another victim of this cause,” Runit said. “I couldn’t survive losing you.”

  “I don’t know what the plan is with PAWN and all of this, but I’m a TreeRunner, and we can survive undetected in the forests indefinitely.”

  “I’m afraid it may come to that.”

  “What is a life without meaning? A strange and empty walk alone in the cold.”

  Runit smiled, recognizing the quote from one of his favorite authors, Jean Van Ness. “Do good. Share love. Risk it all for something more than yourself,” Runit said, finishing the quote.

  “Even if I do die,” Grandyn said, “it will be for the reason I lived.” Neither spoke for almost a minute. “But don’t worry,” Grandyn said. “I’m eighteen, and I’m gonna live forever.”

  Monday, February 5

  Chelle slipped in next to Runit in the early hours, just as light f
iltered softly from the doorway. Runit couldn’t help but smile as he felt her body against his.

  “Do you forgive me?” she asked. “Deuce will protect his books. You don’t have to worry about that.”

  Runit had thought about it, and wasn’t sure whether Deuce wanted to save the books from being changed, or if he’d wanted them in order to find the eight missing works. Either way, he believed they’d be protected at least until those were found, and the odds were they had at least some of the eight among PAWN’s half.

  “You’re a difficult person not to forgive.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, kissing him.

  “Do you all mind,” Grandyn said groggily. “I’d like to sleep for a few more days if possible.”

  “I wish it were,” Chelle said, “but the AOI raided nine more locations last night. We barely got the TreeRunners out safely.”

  “I should be with them,” Grandyn said, an argument he’d lost yesterday.

  “We’ll be joining up with them later,” Chelle said.

  Suddenly, they heard the rebels running and shouting above them.

  “Could you have been followed?” Runit asked Chelle.

  “I was careful.” But even as she answered, she thought of the satellites, the vehicle traces, KEL, Field displacements, drones, swarms, informants . . . How had they survived this long? “Is there another way out?”

  “I don’t think so,” he replied, trying to think but only able to recall concrete walls all around them. “We should go up there and see what’s happening.”

  The sound of gunshots and lasers seemed louder and faster. They looked at each other. A scream: one of the good guys hit. Then the floor above collapsed on them in a fiery explosion of flashing lights and debris. Confusion, smoke, and moans filled the next few minutes, but Chelle was sure she saw two AOI agents shot by a surviving rebel. After that a smattering of shots was heard, and then silence.

  Grandyn had been burned badly by the flash, but remained conscious. “Dad,” he called out once he became convinced the fighting had ended. Only more silence answered him. “Dad, where are you?”

  The smoke cleared, and it was eerily light as the sky was now visible. The remaining glow of the sunrise turned everything a dark orange hue. He screamed when he saw his father and just knew he was dead.

  “No!” Somehow he dragged himself to Runit, who was covered in blood.

  Grandyn lay there, holding his father’s lifeless body, the anger and loss not allowing tears to flow. Runit looked up at Chelle as if betrayed. She tried to give a comforting glance, but rage choked her efforts. Grandyn couldn’t stand – the burns on his leg were too severe – but he would recover, and in that empty moment, the first in his life without his father, he vowed to destroy the AOI. It would be his mission. In time, he’d try to make it less about revenge and more for the elevated purpose of setting the world free again, but for now it was only vengeance that he sought.

  In the echoing silence of the blown-out cellar, a combat zone from a long-ago-started war that was only now being fought‒ and lost ‒ Grandyn kissed his father’s forehead softly.

  “You’re a hero,” he whispered. “You saved the books . . . but you’ve always been my hero.” A tear fell from his eye and he felt sure his throat was going to close off all his air. With a soft and cracking voice he breathed the words, “Brave and true.”

  Chelle’s thoughts burst through her battered head. We have to get out of here. The AOI has obviously penetrated PAWN and launched a full offensive against us. Maybe we can find Nelson. He might still be alive. He has to be alive! She tried to hold herself together. The AOI might have arrested Deuce Lipton . . . what about his books? Oh, Runit, I’m so sorry. She fought her welling tears. How much time do we have until another AOI team arrives? Is Munna safe? She scanned the rubble and saw nothing that could help her get Grandyn to safety. He might have to be left here, but the AOI will execute him on the spot. Maybe I can get him to the trees. They look to be only two hundred meters away. She started to cry. Damn it, they killed Runit! The AOI has to be just minutes away.

  Then she heard a Flo-wing.

  “Grandyn, we have to go now. Your dad would want you to live. It was his highest purpose.” Eye contact was impossible in the lighting. “Come on.” Most of Chelle’s left side, including her head, was bleeding, but she didn’t let the pain slow her. She scrambled over to the bodies, found a laser rifle next to the bloody body of one of the dead AOI agents, checked its charge, and tossed it to Grandyn. “We can make it, but you have to forget the life you almost had. You’re a soldier now, and we’re at war.” Chelle hardly recognized her voice, and tried to remain steady.

  Grandyn began to crawl to a corner where he’d have better cover. She took a conventional weapon from one of the fallen PAWN rebels, knowing from her weapons studies it was an AK-47 assault rifle. As the Flo-wing’s engines grew louder, she grabbed two extra clips off the soldier and retreated to an area close to Grandyn that had become a pile of concrete slabs.

  Grandyn, an orphan at eighteen, feeling the air rush as the Flo-wing landed, realized that he might die soon, and tallied the losses: his mother and father, Vida, and two TreeRunners. Five deaths out of the revolution he knew so little about. Some of that blood was on his hands.

  What had his mother known so long ago? Had she realized the risks of never seeing her son again?

  Footsteps and shouts. He steadied himself against the wall and readied his finger over the firing button, then stole a glance at Chelle. She was staring straight ahead into the collapsed opening of the building, weapon pointed, only a breath from shooting.

  “Runit, are you in there?” The voice sounded familiar. “Are you okay?”

  Whoever it was tossed an INU into the room. Chelle considered shooting it, knowing it would be filming them, but its floated images projected a two-way channel showing her who was out there. She recognized the plumber and placed his face with the voice. It must be one of Deuce’s Flo-wings.

  “Runit, we’ve come to get you out of here. There’s no time. You have to come now,” the plumber yelled.

  Chelle looked at Grandyn. If it was a trap, they were dead anyway.

  “We need help!” Chelle stood and yelled, weapon pointed to the ground.

  “Okay Chelle. We’re coming in.” The plumber appeared a second later, flanked by fully outfitted soldiers in wavesuits, carrying laserstiks and pulse-rods.

  “Grandyn’s pretty bad,” she said, pointing. “And Runit’s dead.” Her voice went thin on the final word.

  The plumber shined a muted blue light toward Grandyn, and then said something into his wrist. A moment later two men appeared with a stretcher. Less than three minutes after they had landed, they were back in the air with Grandyn, Chelle, and the body of the last librarian.

  Chapter 58

  “Mr. Lipton is looking forward to speaking with you Ms. Andreas,” said a pleasant looking woman who’d already been onboard.

  “Likewise,” Chelle said, looking around as if the trillionaire might be onboard.

  The Flo-wing had a lavatory, running water, and a tiny galley. A doctor attended to Grandyn’s burns while a nurse cleaned up Chelle’s wounds. Grandyn glazed over until they tried to inject him with a painkiller.

  “No!” he said, looking at the covered body of his father, laid against several cartons of medical supplies, and fittingly, a stack of hardcover books salvaged from the battle. There were several rows of smart-seats, which contoured to one’s body and provided instant stimulation, heat or cooling, whatever was needed. But most of the area they were in had been converted to an in-flight medical clinic.

  The doctor cut away what was left of Grandyn’s clothing, revealing a lean, muscular body. Burns covered about thirty percent of his torso and twenty percent of his legs. He administered a thick green cream on the worst of the burns, and a brown powder on everything else. “I know it hurts. Let me give you the shot . . . please.”

  “
No,” he said, collapsing. While Grandyn was unconscious, the doctor readied the injection.

  “He said no!” Chelle barked from a few feet away.

  “Okay,” the doctor said meekly.

  Chelle had a few deep wounds, which the nurse taped. She also refused any painkillers. A short time later, Crater Lake came into view and they started to descend, saving her the question of where they were headed. PAWN had long maintained a facility near the famous landmark. She didn’t know Deuce had become involved with PAWN enough to be welcome at one of their most covert locations, but it could not be a coincidence. The remote lake had once been a national park, but after the Banoff all such protected lands around the world had become known as Earth Parks. Many were expanded, including Crater Lake. The areas around Earth Parks were subject to rural controls, which, similar to old zoning laws, restricted development.

  It had been a couple of years since her last visit to the PAWN compound, but she recognized it from the air. Later, she’d learn that the Lipton family had secretly owned the property since before the Banoff. It included a series of parcels, which were the closest privately owned lands to the famous lake.

  The property was accessible only from the air, from where it appeared as a spacious mountain lodge. However, the real facility remained safely hidden underground, fifteen thousand square meters on three subterranean levels.

  Men escorted Chelle to a small tower, camouflaged into the trees so that Crater Lake could be seen from the large window, but the structure would be almost impossible to see from the lake.

  “Where’s Nelson?” she asked when Deuce entered. “Is he alive?”

  “He’s safe. We just located him. Somehow he managed to get a motel room in Ashland, under the name Bob Hauser.”

  She smiled. “He uses that alias sometimes, the name of a longtime childhood friend.”

  “It served him well. You’ll meet up with him later this evening. PAWN has a safe house in Ashland.” Unless I detain you longer, Deuce thought.

 

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