The Justar Journal: An AOI Thriller

by Brandt Legg

  He scrambled over and discovered the location from where the attacks had originated. A group of six grunges was manning the powerful laser guns. Grandyn waited a minute to make sure there were no others and then, in quick succession, he tossed the shockers one after the other. There were no survivors.

  When Grandyn reached Fye, she was asleep. He decided to let her rest a little longer and quietly grabbed his AirSlider, carrying it far enough away to be sure the takeoff wouldn’t wake her. Soaring up in the trees, he tried to find Fuller and the other two PAWN soldiers, but no trace of them remained. After another wide circle, he headed back to Fye.

  “We need to go,” Grandyn said, waking her gently.

  She smiled at seeing him. “Did you find anyone?”

  “A bunch of grunges, and one of the PAWN guys. No one’s left.”

  “Fuller?”

  “We have to hope they made it, but it’s time to get out of here.”

  He took the four INUs pulled from the dead grunges and tossed them over the cliff. He knew all AOI issued INUs had tracers. Someone would be looking soon, that is, unless the fires came first. They could see smoke rising in the distance. The setting sun was already draped over the trees in brown and orange haze that gave everything a surreal feel, like the strange lighting in an old futuristic science fiction movie.

  They climbed on their AirSliders and went over the edge. The sloping cliff gave them good cover, and had just enough surface to allow them to skim along at full speed. Ten minutes later, they were back in the trees, cautiously winding their way up the Siskiyou Pass.

  Grandyn looked longingly over at Mount Ashland. Years earlier, when the world still made sense, he’d come down from Portland with his clan of TreeRunners and they spent three weeks in the wilderness. Before the Banoff, it had been a ski area, but the mandated forest program and warmer winters had changed its status.

  The Ashland TreeRunner clan had been an active one. He’d made good friends, but imagined that by now, most were dead. The AOI Chief’s TreeRunner extermination program had been quite effective in the early days of the Doneharvest. Back then, no one knew how ruthless the Aylantik government could really be, and the Chief hadn’t yet revealed her particular brand of evil.

  He wondered if his parents had known what the world was going to become, and if they would have still brought him into it if they had. Grandyn didn’t really understand his importance to the revolution. Aside from his rage against the AOI and his skills in the woods, he couldn’t comprehend why he’d become so significant.

  “Is there something about me?” he asked Fye as they hummed along, their AirSliders almost touching one another.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The List Keepers, you say they know everything. Do they know something about me? Aside from the fact that my mother discovered the truth about the Banoff and my father was the last librarian, and he saved the books.”

  “They know what I know,” she said, wanting to hold him. “That you found the Justar Journal and figured out the code so we could read it. That you infiltrated the AOI for years and found Drast, and that you have frustrated and occupied the Chief while PAWN geared up for war and the List Keepers tried to avoid it. You’re a hero, Grandyn. You’ve been saving the world, just like I said you would on the day we met.”

  “Did they know that? Before I did it?” he asked tentatively.

  “I told you, they know everything.” She smiled weakly. He worried she wouldn’t be able to go on much farther, and the fires were growing ahead of them. Soon they’d meet Zaverly and be able to get war and fire updates, and most important, maybe Fye could rest a few hours. They were quiet for a while.

  Fifteen minutes later, as they were heading down the pass, they saw a group of rebels. Grandyn sighed, relieved.

  “Thank goodness,” Fye said. “We’ve finally reached Zaverly.”

  Chapter 54 - Book 3

  Chelle reviewed every report. She had dozens of open VMs floating around the room, but there was still no sign of Osc and Drast. It would be days before they could get someone to the safe house, but she knew that if they had been there, they’d be long gone by now. Drast would never sit still, not when there was a world to conquer. They were a distraction, but she didn’t allow it to divert too much of her attention. The best thing she could do for Osc, and any future he might hope to have, would be to defeat the AOI and bring down the Chief along with her Aylantik façade. Drast wouldn’t want her to waste a minute on him. He’d happily trade himself for victory over the tyrants. He had said it many times.

  Chelle got through to Deuce. His first question was about her son.

  “Nothing,” she said. “Thank you for asking.”

  “I’ve got a team on it. We’re looking.”

  “I really appreciate it Deuce,” she said, genuinely touched. “There is another son I’m worried about.”

  Deuce thought of Twain.

  “Runit’s son,” she said. “Grandyn is trying to get to the List Keepers. Obviously, I don’t know exactly where that is, but I know the direction he is heading, and according to our sources, the AOI is about to firebomb the whole area.”

  Deuce closed his eyes. The decision was being made for him. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Stop those planes.”

  “Can’t PAWN?”

  “We’ve got nothing close enough that can handle it,” she said. “We’re all over the populated targets.”

  Deuce had been watching, and knew PAWN’s capabilities maybe better than she did. “What about rain?” he asked, knowing that only one person could move that much weather.

  “Miner is my next zoom.”

  “Give me the coordinates and let me know what Miner says.”

  After the zoom, Deuce thought about trying to have another conversation with Munna, but he didn’t want to confuse his mind even further with more of her philosophically circular words. Instead, he put on Billie Holiday. As he heard the first notes of the song, he smiled. “Crazy, He Calls Me” sounded better on vinyl, but most of his LPs had been left on Ryder Island.

  Billie Holiday sang, “I say I'll move the mountains. And I'll move the mountains.” Deuce thought about what he was about to do, wondered what it would mean. It felt as if he were moving mountains, even moving the entire Earth.

  Lady Day’s haunting voice broke through his thoughts again. “I say I'll go through fire. And I'll go through fire. As he wants it, so it shall be. Crazy, he calls me.”

  He thought about Grandyn. What would he find? Who were the List Keepers? Were they capable of saving what was left? Were they even real? He wasn’t sure they were much more than a handful of old metaphysical devotees who, like his uncle Cope, liked to explore the deep powers of the mind and the quantum world. Munna and Fye were the only two people he’d ever met who admitted to being List Keepers. Even UC never made that claim, although Deuce now assumed he’d been one.

  He’d heard bits and pieces about the List Keepers through the years, but nothing concrete. Munna’s appearance was the first thing that substantiated any of the rumors. The group never seemed to matter, but the rumors were always intriguing; a secret organization that could control events, that monitored everything, even the AOI. How did they avoid detection? What was their objective?

  Something about it nagged at him. He doubted they were any big deal, but at the same time he believed they might be the thing that might make the difference, especially if his own actions screwed it all up.

  He looked at reports on the search for Osc and Drast. No news. He checked the advancing plague. More dead, rapidly spreading. The fires, also spreading. The bombing, resumed. The INU-based simulations and predictions, extinction event likely.

  He turned to the screen showing the Justar Journal monitors, still blank, except for Munna, Twain, and the war. He gazed at the live image of his son. “You’re the future,” he whispered.

  There was another open link which verified that his wife and daughter were secur
e. Next he scanned the VMs, checked the satellites, and took a deep breath.

  Deuce rearranged the VMs floating in his cabin, allowed his retina to be scanned, and began the sequence that would forever alter his life, the war, the world, and the outcome of everything.

  Chapter 55 - Book 3

  There must have been close to sixty rebels. Fye was relieved to see them, knowing a force that size would almost certainly be able to defeat any trouble standing between them and the City.

  In the past few days, the TreeRunners had completely merged with PAWN, as had all other rebel factions. PAWN Command dictated every rebel response – defensive and offensive. As soon as Grandyn and Fye dismounted from their AirSliders and identified themselves, Zaverly came forward.

  “We spotted you a few minutes ago,” she said to Grandyn, ignoring Fye. “I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you.” They shook hands.

  He was about to introduce Fye, but another woman ran up at that very moment, shouting his name. He turned, letting go of Zaverly just in time to be nearly knocked over by a bear hug.

  “It’s so good to see you,” the woman said. “I heard you were dead so many times!”

  “Nester, I would never die without seeing you first,” he said, hugging his childhood friend. “Fye, this is Nester. We grew up in the same clan.”

  Fye waved a hello.

  “Hi,” Nester said.

  “Oh, and Zaverly, sorry. This is Fye, my fiancée.”

  Zaverly nodded and smiled at Fye. She could tell the woman was sick and needed medical attention, but she was more than delighted to have her along for the fun.

  “Wyle said you were assigned to Zaverly,” Grandyn said to Nester. “I hoped we’d see you.”

  “Damn, you look like your dad,” she said, backing up and taking him in. “So sorry to hear about that. I loved him, you know?”

  “I know,” Grandyn said. “He always said you were the daughter he never had.”

  She hugged him again and then pulled back. “Sorry,” she said to Zaverly. “We’re very, very old friends.”

  “Apparently,” Zaverly said, forcing a smile.

  After a few more minutes of chatting and catching up, Grandyn asked if there was a place where Fye could sleep for a couple of hours before they moved on. There was a quick, makeshift, nano-camo made available.

  “Okay,” Fye agreed. “I’ll rest for an hour, but no more.”

  She wanted to get to the City. Not just because of the implications for the war, but because they could take care of her, make her well again. She couldn’t let Grandyn know how awful she felt, or he’d never agree to more travel. Even if she didn’t make it, he had to, but she didn’t know how to explain the location.

  I’ll think while I sleep, she thought, drifting off.

  Grandyn let her sleep for two hours, but by then it was dark and the fires looked frightening. The window was closing. They had to leave.

  While Fye had been out, Grandyn caught up with Nester and talked to other TreeRunners with whom he had friends in common. It was then that he learned that the bulk of the rebels would be heading back to Ashland.

  “The fires are too close to risk us all going in. There won’t be many grunges.”

  “So what is PAWN Command doing with us?” Grandyn asked.

  “You know, we’re spread mighty thin. They need us up north. Something about an AOI weapons depot near Medford,” Nester said.

  “We have to go south.”

  “I know. But don’t worry, Zaverly says she had solid intel on the AOI locations for the next five hundred kilometers. And with the fires, the grunges aren’t keeping too much of a presence in the woods except to burn them. They’re using missiles now. The AOI is going to burn every tree on the planet. I can’t believe they don’t care about what that will do.”

  “It’s not the AOI,” Grandyn said. “It’s the Chief, and she’s made it quite clear she doesn’t care about anything other than winning. Even if the world is in rubble, her damn peace will prevail always!”

  “It’s not over yet Grandyn. We’re just starting to fight back. And you should have smooth sailing if you can sneak through the fires. Most of the grunges have pulled out and are keeping to the perimeters, waiting.”

  “Waiting?” Grandyn asked, afraid of an ambush.

  “The Chief assumed all the TreeRunners and PAWN rebels who have been hiding will come streaming out of the woods like scared rabbits. She obviously doesn’t know how many POPs there are, and if she does, she doesn’t know they are built to withstand surface fires.”

  “Coming out of a POP into a burnt wasteland isn’t exactly good cover,” Grandyn said.

  “Tomorrow’s a new day. It might rain,” Nester mused.

  “I hope you’re right. I guess we’ll head out alone.”

  “No way,” Nester said. “You’re important enough to get a serious escort. Zaverly herself, and four of her most decorated soldiers are going with you. Don’t worry, they won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Chapter 56 - Book 3

  Miner looked at Sarlo when he saw who the zoom was from. She raised her eyebrows. Maybe Chelle had succeeded and the Chief was dead.

  “Do you have good news for me?” Miner asked as he opened the connection.

  “Perhaps tomorrow,” Chelle said, knowing exactly what he meant. “The Chief is very secure, very protected, and very paranoid; not an easy target.”

  “Yes,” Miner said, disappointed. “That is why I gave the assignment to someone so capable.” He was actually thinking of Blaise when he said that, but knew Chelle would assume he meant her.

  He looked at the Toronto skyline reflecting on Lake Ontario. The CN Tower, once a dominant feature, was now one of many uniquely beautiful structures. A ring of needle-like buildings, spinning towers, round discs, and massive arches. Breathtaking.

  “As you know, I’m more interested in succeeding with that task than you are, but I need a small favor,” Chelle said, from underground in a heavily fortified PAWN facility.

  “Then check back with me once you have a body to give me.”

  “It all goes toward the same goal,” Chelle said. “It is very complicated to line everything up so that she can be eliminated. It will have a better chance of success if you can provide some very behind-the-scene assistance.”

  “If I wanted to do this myself, I would have,” Miner replied.

  At the same time, Sarlo got his attention and mouthed the words, “Listen to her.”

  “But tell me what you need,” Miner said, before Chelle could respond to his last comment.

  “I need rain.”

  “Again?” Miner was surprised. It wasn’t an easy thing to do with the skies so restricted and dangerous, but it wouldn’t be impossible, depending on where she needed it.

  He looked at the VM that showed the fire maps. Most of them were in the Pacyfik region in what used to be the western United States. Tough area.

  “Between Mount Shasta, Lassen, and Yosemite in the California Area.” Chelle didn’t know exactly where Grandyn was.

  “That’s a stretch of almost five hundred kilometers,” he said, checking the map. “That’s a hell of a big storm.”

  “And I need it now.”

  “Impossible!” Miner scoffed.

  “We could use the smoke,” Sarlo whispered, but Chelle still heard her.

  “The northern part of that range is the most important,” Chelle said. “Whatever you can do.”

  “And what if you don’t deliver your end? l’ve done this for nothing.”

  “If I don’t succeed, you still will have saved some of our most pristine forests from destruction and infuriated the Chief. Not a bad night’s work.”

  Sarlo nodded to Miner. He shook his head back. “Do it,” she mouthed.

  “We might have a way,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do. But you better make me happy tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow seems so far away, doesn’t it?” Chelle said, watching the world fal
l apart on her VMs.

  Tomorrow, she thought. What will be left by then?

  Blaise listened to a report from the husband and wife team working on the assassination. They might have been the only people in the world happy the Sonic-bombing had resumed.

  “Our odds of success have increased to fifty-eight percent,” the husband said. “There are predawn flights planned for targets in the Tennessee and Pennsylvania Areas, which would be within range of the Chief’s bunker in Washington, DC.”

  “What about the launch protocols?” Blaise asked.

  “We have them.”

  “Impressive,” Blaise commended. “And altering the flight plan?”

  “Working on it,” the wife said.

  “How are you going to avoid Washington’s substantial air defenses?”

  “We’re trying to get something lined up, an authorization, but it’s still our biggest problem,” the husband explained. “We’re confident.”

  “Air defenses are a big one,” Blaise said. “Maybe we could give them something else to shoot at.”

  “Such as?” the husband asked.

  “Steal a bunch of passenger planes. Someone did it a hundred years ago.”

  “Nine-eleven?”

  “Exactly. The planes are all grounded. If you can get ten or so in the air above DC, you might give cover to your bomber.”

  The woman brought up VMs showing the closest airports with grounded passenger fleets. They had plenty to choose from.

  “I’m on it,” the husband said.

  “And do we know any more about the bunker?” Blaise asked.

  “We need a direct hit if we have any chance of penetrating it,” she said. “But even if the Chief survives, it will slow her, and the AOI control and command will be down for at least a week.”

  “Even if we fail, it might give us the break we need,” Blaise said. “Draw up a plan to drop troops into DC after the bombing.”