The Radical (Unity Vol.1)

by Lynch, S. M.

  THE RADICAL

  UNITY Vol.1

  By S.M. Lynch

  Copyright © S.M. Lynch, 2014

  Cover Design by S.M. Lynch

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner. You must not circulate this book without the authority to do so.

  All characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  LEARN MORE ABOUT UNITY:

  http://unitynovels.com/

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Preface

  Prologue

  PART ONE

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  PART TWO

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  PART THREE

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Epilogue

  Author Note

  Acknowledgments

  DEDICATION

  For my family

  PREFACE

  This is a future world where everything has changed. To speed your reading experience, here is a list of future staples that you will come across in the novels…

  nGen: New generation handset created in the late 2010s

  xGen: Unsurpassable, multi-functional hand-held device

  Emissary: Man or woman employed by Officium to keep the peace

  U-Card: Identity card that also works as payment method and passport

  ED: Earth dollars, a global currency

  24/7: Automated store providing goods

  Mercy Inn: Convenient hotel

  Sanctuary: Indoor, automated refreshment dispensary

  UNITY: A mysterious underground movement

  Love does not delight in evil

  but rejoices with the truth.

  1 Corinthians 13, v6

  PROLOGUE

  In 2063 four people set out to depose the conglomeration of Officium ‒ I was one of them. We each had different skills and capabilities, no personality the same, yet we all fought for the same cause. We believed in the movement and we never doubted our resolve to rid the world of that dictatorial menace. Alongside our quartet, many others fought. Some loyal, some not. I would like to be able to tell you that all of us survived, but we didn’t. Some of us perished, some of us were injured, some of us left and never came back.

  My name is Seraph Maddon and it falls on me to open this epic tale of lies, deceit, mayhem and murder. I open it because it began, essentially, with my personal battle against those who sought to teach us that freedom of thought and speech were wrong, risky… even dangerous. I always knew, in my heart, the world had changed for the worse.

  2023 saw to that: a viral outbreak that was never explained and an antidote never produced ‒ developed a culture of fear and confusion that allowed Officium to take power.

  While you get acquainted with the woman I was ‒ I suppose the woman I always will be to some extent ‒ you will discover I was a dislikeable figure, a product of that world. I knew I was lucky to survive each day but how I was still living, I didn’t know. But I was about to find out.

  What follows is a treacherous journey through a murky abyss. If only I had a time machine, I would send these words back as a warning to people to be aware – you never know what the future might hold. In our time, if you weren’t immoral, you might have seemed weak. So it was better to be like them, join their ways, and never speak out.

  If you find yourself demanding answers throughout this journey, don’t expect to get them without a fight. Let me introduce myself…

  I am The Radical.

  PART ONE

  Mors Tua, Vita Mea

  CHAPTER 1

  January 5, 2063, NYC

  My eyelids felt heavy, scratching my eyeballs with every blink, and even dull light made my headache worse. My nostrils were itchy and my throat was parched; I had been out on the street all day long, breathing in the toxic air. Above me a streetlight struggled as the blackout approached, the neon-orange bulbs fizzing and blinking against the blurred night sky. Acrid aromas from a nearby soup vendor lingered ‒ putrid offerings for dozens of exhausted white collar workers shuffling by on the way home to their cold, unwelcoming dwellings. I got accustomed to those smells, and even though they were vile, they were familiar. It was rare I had the time to stop and think and I preferred never to contemplate my surroundings.

  I stood on a corner behind the decaying remains of Radio City Music Hall, an original symbol of art deco that was used as a makeshift hospital during 2023. I was desperate not to catch attention and dressed in black to appear inconspicuous. Still, everyone knew my face, my name, and I couldn’t bear to cut the striking mane of red hair that reached my waist.

  I slid my device from my pocket to check for messages but found none. C’mon, c’mon. I just hoped my contact was running late and hadn’t ridden a pale horse off that godforsaken island. Most people in his line of work had a short lifespan.

  A gaggle of office workers rushed by preferring safety in numbers, and I turned my face away, leaning back into the shadows. I usually moved about the streets quickly and knew which corners I could lose a tail on. They watched my every move.

  It was laboring toward evening and the dark skies reflected my irritable mood. I felt grubby and haggard. No matter how many showers I took, it was never enough. Pollution always lingered in my hair, on my skin, in my lungs and on my clothes.

  I braved another glance sideways down the alley and saw silent, dejected husks with their heads lowered and their shoulders hunched, creeping to their destinations anxiously after slaving away in cramped conditions all day long. I avoided staring and bowed my head again.

  When a pair of shiny black Oxfords appeared in front of me, I had to take a breath. I took control of my adrenalin, reassuring myself it wasn’t an enemy. It was definitely Ulrich. He was always a dead giveaway, with feet smaller than my own.

  I looked up and heard my own voice, which was raspy in the uncompromising air, ‘You’re late.’

  He was an inch taller than me at most, dressed in a black overcoat, a suit beneath. He had a couple of years on me, sprinkled brown hair, a handsome face and a bookish look that seemed to suit him more with each passing year.

  ‘You’re lucky I’m here at all,’ he said, a soupçon of Swiss still detectable in his accent.

  I pulled Ulrich down the alley to get out of sight, gesturing for him to shelter with me in an old side entrance of the music hall. Another tropical storm was on the way but the smog overhead always made it difficult to separate rain clouds from pollution.

  ‘Why you got me here, huh? You know how dangerous this is,’ I paused, wafting my index finger in front of his eyes, ‘doin’ this on the fuckin’ street is a bad idea.’

>   He grimaced but he wasn’t the one on the streets everyday. I was. He spent his days in relative safety, hovering over a microscope, earning a crust that would enable his retirement in only a few years’ time.

  ‘We’re done here, Seraph. I just came to say goodbye. My employers know something. They are suspicious. I have had one too many memos about the clause in my contract where I agreed not to discuss my work with outsiders.’

  My eyes widened and I snarled, ‘Coward’s way out? Should have known you’d back down one day.’

  I stared him out, my expression stony, and raised myself to my full height. I searched his eyes for signs that might explain his sudden mutiny and noticed something.

  Ulrich always had a glint in his eye for me. For some reason, that was gone. I think I knew why, already. It was usually the reason people sought escape from the regime we were held imprisoned by.

  ‘Why are we bothering? No-one is ever going to change a thing. They’ll be dead before that happens,’ he argued.

  My impatience was quickening and I had to hold my fist steady by my side ‒ it threatened to react to what he was saying. I refused to go home that day with nothing, not a scrap of something to work with. I sensed he possessed information that might make another pointless day seem less shitty.

  ‘So we’ll be six feet under or worse, at least we’ll die trying,’ I countered.

  His defiance was palpable.

  ‘Listen, I’ve met someone, so I can’t keep doing this. I’ve got someone to care about now.’

  I recoiled and recognized why he had on that get-up. He must have been heading off for a date. That explained the missing glint.

  ‘I thought romance was dead,’ I mocked.

  ‘It’s not like that. It’s real.’

  ‘Yeah, right. It’ll never last, once she finds out who owns your ass.’

  He took hold of my elbow, shaking my body. If he was trying to encourage me to see sense, he was going to be a long time. His retort was angry, ‘Look, she already knows so shut the hell up. Just because you’re so damned heartless doesn’t mean everyone else is.’

  I sniffed in disdain and appeared nonchalant, but deep down I knew he was right. I had just spent another miserable Christmas alone and being forced to spend time with my thoughts only made me feel more weighed down with hopelessness and despair at never being able to get any real answers. Anyhow I was tired of his stalling.

  I checked the street and moved toward Ulrich, taking hold of his coat collars. My muscles roiled with anger as I shoved him back and held him against the brick wall. His eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of his head; he was shocked by my swift attack and struggled to breathe.

  ‘Dammit, don’t test me Ulrich, there’s no time for this. Just tell me what you got.’

  He tried to nod but I maintained my grip until I felt certain he had succumbed. He fell on the step at the bottom of the side door, catching his breath. I waited impatiently, tapping my feet, arms crossed. I damn well wanted answers and I would resort to using the dirt I had on him if I had to – such as the alias he used for a bank account he kept for his escape plan. Officium would be very interested in knowing one of their employees could run off on them, carrying their secretive practices out of the city to who knows where.

  He looked up with exasperation and gasped, ‘Head virologist Suranna Eames, she’s smoke.’

  He was near to cracking too, I could tell. He was primed for the taking. The pressure of something was weighing him down. I knelt so I was at his level and demanded, ‘When?’

  ‘Two months ago. Laboratory explosion. They’ll probably kill me for telling you,’ he said, shaking his head.

  ‘Tell me everything and I promise you’ll never have to see me again.’

  He remained silent, but just as I was about to recommence my attack, he revealed, ‘Seraph, you really can be a complete bitch you know?’

  ‘Fuck you. I came here straight from the morgue. I go there every single day to see if the newest victims of factory work bear any evidence of maltreatment. I’m a journalist who’s been forced to work like this. Not the other way round. We’re all victims of this world. I’ll take my chances doin’ what little I can to undermine them.’

  He hung his head in his hands. ‘I can’t do this Seraph. I’m not built like you are.’

  ‘I need whatever you got. Just tell me everything before I demonstrate what I’m really capable of,’ I spat out.

  He held a hand up in submission. ‘Okay, look, some colleagues of mine in her department said she started turning up at work withdrawn and disheveled. Something was clearly troubling her, and then she was dead. Ryken Hardy got fired just after taking over her job as head researcher.’

  ‘Her ex? Why did they get rid of him?’

  ‘Something about poor results in their department.’

  I threw my head back in disbelief. ‘What fuckin’ results? What is the point of virologists when they have the whole world on lockdown! There hasn’t been an outbreak in four damn decades.’

  ‘Shit, I don’t know and I don’t want to know. There must be more to it, but I can’t tell you any more than that.’

  I contemplated this revelation, eyeing him to gauge whether he was holding something back.

  ‘Where’s Hardy now?’

  ‘I wish I knew, he’s here and there, but nobody can ever seem to get hold of him.’

  ‘Are you sure there’s nothing else you might have overlooked?’

  He looked shifty, so I reiterated, ‘Just tell me.’

  ‘They’re watching you. They have been for years. And yet, they don’t ever seem to get you…?’

  ‘Yeah… well… I might have a sympathetic supporter feeding me dirt on all the major players of this city… some of the choicest bits are in an encrypted file hovering in cyberspace. If anything happens to me it will be released within 24 hours of me failing to upload my message service.’

  ‘They won’t stop, you know that. Your impunity won’t last forever.’

  ‘They can’t touch me because my protection is unbreakable, trust me. I had my underground hacker friend, the Rascal, shore up its impenetrability. He’s smarter than the whole of Officium put together. He knows all their tricks, but even he’s been unable to get any data proving who really killed my parents.’

  ‘Maybe you ought to just admit defeat. You know, sometimes when I sit scanning the obituaries, I often half expect to see your name amongst them.’

  I sniffed and shrugged his apt suggestion off. I’d come close to death a few times but I would never admit it, not to anyone.

  ‘All I want is the truth about my family. I’ll keep chiselin’ away until I get the information I need, whether they threaten to kill me or not.’

  He looked saddened by my remarks and that made me angrier than anything else I had been forced to face that day.

  ‘Ulrich, fuck it, don’t look at me with those pity eyes. I know what I am.’

  ‘No, you’re better. I remember the person you used to be before your parents were killed. This debt you’re trying to settle… it is only going to cost you, nobody else. I just hope you realize that before they catch up with you.’

  He pushed to his feet and got ready to leave, offering me a hand to shake. I took it begrudgingly and he offered one last piece of advice.

  ‘If you can get Hardy to talk, you might finally be able to unpick the biggest thread of them all. But he’s a pretty tough one to crack. He’s built like a marine and perhaps smarter and more complex than anyone else I’ve ever known. He’s the best of us, and yet, for him to have been fired… something monumental must have gone down.’

  I managed a limp smile. ‘Sorry about before. I guess… good luck?’

  He moved away and offered, ‘Goodbye Seraph. I really hope you find what you’re looking for.’

  CHAPTER 2

  April 3, 2063

  It could have been just another ordinary day. The previous night, I’d been staking a whorehouse whe
re a depraved senator was thought to be spending his Friday nights. My head hit the pillow at the ungodly hour of 3am ‒ so I groaned when the din of a call began vibrating through my sloshy brains before it was even dawn. I imagined it would be my boss Francesca, who never seemed to sleep and had superhuman strengths above even mine.

  I fought with the sheets and rolled over to snatch my xGen from the nightstand and snap it open. I accepted the vis-call and heard some muffled noises before an image appeared and an unfamiliar voice echoed down the line.

  ‘Oh, hello, Seraph? This is Camille, your aunt’s colleague.’

  The woman was middle-aged but her tied-back, light-brown hair was without grey. She had a thin mouth and large hazel eyes set wide apart between a small dainty nose. She had quite a strong English accent, but a French twang crept in as her speech rose and fell. It took me a few moments to process what I’d heard.

  ‘Yeah? What’s this about?’ I responded nervously.

  Shit. I knew what this was. Why else would she call?

  Camille cleared her throat and continually looked away from the screen, unable to hold my stupefied stare.

  Every ounce of me refused to let it be true.

  ‘I have some sad news to impart. Eve passed away early this morning in her sleep. The doctor says her heart finally gave out. I’m so sorry.’

  I couldn’t process that information. My mind went blank. The device I held slipped out of my hand and the voice on the other end of the line seemed even more of an echo.

  ‘Are you still there? I understand this might have come as a bit of a shock.’