“Looks like they’re moving forward,” said Rebecca, eyes still closed, hand in mine. “We should do the same.”
It was my turn to lead. I tugged Rebecca behind me. We slipped and pushed through the crowded space until we got to the door to the forward car.
Alan marched into our car from the opposite end, followed by two cleans. He waved his shotgun in the air and shouted, “Everyone be seated.” He grinned. “This is terrorism.”
I fumbled with the collapsible door handle, then got it open. People cleared from Alan’s way. He leveled the sawed-off shotgun at us, just as we got to the next car. Rebecca slammed the door behind us.
“Six minutes,” she said.
“At this rate, we’ll run out of train.”
“Still have to try,” she said and pushed me to keep moving.
I didn’t need any more urging. We rushed through the new car, still hand-in-hand.
Most of the people in this one were already cowering or looking back at the cars behind us. They knew something was wrong. Rebecca and I had almost reached the forward car when the door to the front of the train opened.
A towering grayish man stomped into the car ahead of us.
I recognized the aeon from the high street and Yashelia’s garden at once. Tooth loomed over us. Rebecca and I backpedaled from the half-mad aeon. He grinned as he prowled forward. Whenever he brushed against a passenger, the person went limp in their seat or crumpled to the floor.
My eyes met his as we retreated to the center of the train car. No conscience or pity could be discerned from his dead gaze. Maybe half-mad was being too generous to the monstrous aeon.
Rebecca tugged on my hand. “Jeth, let me at him.”
I glanced at her. “What? Neither of us is armed.”
“It’s alright,” she said. “I have an idea.”
“I trust you,” I said, though I wanted to add, an idea isn’t going to stop that monster. I didn’t say the second part because I really meant the first.
She brushed past me close, then removed her hand from mine.
Three minutes to the station, and she faced down the aeon before us, holding her small purse with its handful of wires poking out the top.
Tooth lunged at her. She seized something inside her purse as she sidestepped. Tooth barreled past her a few paces. I managed to get out of his way, barely.
The aeon ignored me and whirled to face Rebecca.
She held the battery from our hotel room lamp in one hand, and the rubber clad section of the naked-ended wires connected to the battery in the other. She aimed the wires at Tooth. His grin never faltered. He swatted at her with one long arm.
Rebecca’s shoulder took the blow. She tumbled sideways toward the front of the train and came up on one knee, still facing Tooth and holding the battery and wires. He charged at her.
She planted one foot against the door to the next car at her back.
In a frozen moment, he loomed over her. He leaped the last few paces.
She braced herself. The wires crackled with a spark the met Tooth in his bare chest.
The half-mad aeon went limp in mid-leap, then plowed into Rebecca just the same. His bulk knocked her against the door and drove the breath from her lungs with an audible rush of air. I raced toward them.
Once I drew close, I confirmed Tooth’s unconsciousness with a nudge of my shoe.
He did not react.
I crouched, and then hauled the massive aeon’s arm up and off Rebecca.
She slipped free and gingerly got to her feet.
I checked the time.
Two minutes to the station.
“Electricity,” I said.
“Old school tech,” said Rebecca. “I thought it would be useful.”
“What did it do to him?” I asked.
“Disrupted his connection to his main mind. It won’t last long, maybe four or five minutes.”
“It’ll be plenty of time,” I said.
“I agree,” said Alan as he stepped into the car behind us, flanked by his two cleans. He smirked through his long beard as he took aim with the shotgun. “Can’t have the big lug getting in the way again, can we, Rebecca?”
I swallowed hard and put up my hands as I turned to face Alan.
Rebecca glared at him. “Alan Trench, I’d have thought you could tell something simple like acceleration.”
The train whistle blew.
Rebecca’s glare became a grin. “I told the driver to offline the speed inhibitors. Zero minutes to the station, Trench.”
“Zero minutes until I pull this trigger, Malik,” Alan said, raising the shotgun.
His hands froze in mid-motion. I reached out and felt Celsanoggi’s influence gripped his iron-hard mind, holding him back. The train doors slid open, revealing a perimeter of security officers, weapons readied.
Alan abandoned his shot and retreated behind his cleans. He disappeared through the cars. Like ghosts, he and Miranda disappeared, leaving their fighting slaves behind.
My heart raced, out of control. I stared at Rebecca as I lowered my hands. The security team swept the train, but the renegades were already gone.
Secure Memory, Anonymous Identity, BrightNet Connection Service
The terrorists attacked a secret site last night, sent the team leader along the connection. She attached the memories relating to the incident, hoping the news network would be good enough at analysis to make sense of them.
The BrightNet assistant accepted the information silently, but trackback told the team leader what she sent was opened at once.
Feeling oddly detached from the orders she had just disobeyed, the orders from her real boss, the team leader cut the connection and opened her eyes.
A news alarm reached her seconds later. The team leader tuned in. Terrorists had just attacked the train. This time no one had died, though one man had been shot and was being treated.
And what was this? A rogue star had been taken into custody. So far, the monster had not spoken, only grinned.
Unregistered Memory, Elizabeth Ashwood, Lotdel Tower
Elizabeth received a message from her assistant at BrightNet immediately after she heard from Jeth. He, Rebecca, and Thomas were all safe. She hadn’t yet finished sighing with relief when she read the note.
We have received a verified memory set from an anonymous source. It’s related to the incident at that government site a few days ago. I thought you should see it right away.
You were right, Elizabeth sent back. Then she dove into the records and memories sent by the source who had labeled itself only a concerned citizen.
Scenes of carnage unfolded before her.
Elizabeth hugged herself tight and muttered her mantra.
“I’m strong enough. I’m strong enough.”
Verified Memory, Carol Fisher, Eastern Chicago Barrier
The trains never moved within a mile of the Chicago Barriers, not since the battle in the city’s ruins a few years back.
Carol rode in a light flier over treetops and structures slowly being reclaimed by the environment. The flier was piloted by an aeon, like all light ships from the greatest to the smallest. The aeon’s name was Insira, and she seemed constantly put-out by having to transport special forces, tossing her head and grumbling at every order.
Damien sat beside Carol, a hand on her shoulder as much to help him stay calm as to reassure her. They had been through a lot together. Too much to be anything other than comrades in arms. Anything else seemed frivolous. If either of them wanted more, they never said it out loud. She wasn’t sure one way or the other.
Miranda and Alan talked quietly opposite them, itself an unusual occurrence on its own. Occasionally, Alan would glance out the flier’s viewports. Then Miranda would smirk, and say, “Not far now.”
She did this three times before they arrived at the barrier, just enough to rile Carol, but not enough to provoke a comment. That was far more usual than her talking to Alan privately. The two got along, but onl
y as comrades. They all knew each other too well.
“Keep on station, Insira. If we have to leave in a hurry, be ready,” Alan said. He turned and led the way down the ramp of the flier.
“It’s our own base, what could happen?” muttered Insira behind the team’s back. Carol, who brought up the rear heard her clearly.
She glanced at Damien. “Our pilot doesn’t seem happy.”
“Have you ever known anyone to be happy out here?”
“Good point.”
“You know it.” He smirked.
She clapped her arm around him as they walked. “It’s not long now,” she said. “They’re gonna send us west.”
“How do you figure that?”
“They’ve been talking,” Carol indicated Miranda and Alan. “Something is changing.”
“For Christ’s sake,” said Damien, “they’re allowed to talk without it meaning something.”
“Allowed, yes. Inclined, no.”
“Fair.”
The two of them walked side by side along the high wall of the barrier, a structure of thick concrete and sparsely distributed light veins. It was not easy to maintain a power supply for the light veins this far from the city and its sources. The aeons also would not send a generator out this far, it being too risky. Instead, the base made due with a mix of low-tech light sources, powered mostly by one of the few electrical grids left in the world as Carol knew it.
The barriers walled in the former city of Chicago in three key places. Though the enclosure was not complete, regular ground patrols and light ship flight between the large fortified sections made for a strong containment.
What were they containing? That is a good question, Carol thought. She had not fought in the battle here. Presumably, the enemy within the city was fierce enough that the military could not destroy them outright.
That little fact scared her because, even years later, the enemy could strike at any time.
A light ship, slender, spear-like, one of Sudhatho’s she was certain, hung in the air over the old road into the city. Sunlight glinted on steely weapon nodes. No enemy in sight.
They reached the gate to the fort’s interior. Each of them presented their identification cards and memory codes. They took an elevator to the middle level of the tall fortress. Only within the armory did it become obvious why they had been called in.
At least fifty cleans, all armored and outfitted with weapons, waited along the walls inside.
A slick young officer met them, along with a handful of his staff, and told them of their mission, west of the fort. The cleans were to be their spearhead. Then, he told his staff to go about their business and waited for them all to leave before addressing the team again.
“Our real master wants you back in the city.”
A chill ran through Carol, both welcome and terrifying. Sudhatho was calling them back.
“Unfortunately, his influence isn’t what it used to be,” said the officer. “You’ll have to make your own way once you’re in the field. I trust you will work it out. Further instructions will reach you once you arrive back east.”
“Consider it done, sir,” said Alan. He shook hands with the young officer.
“Good hunting.”
“Always is,” said Miranda with a smirk.
Damien squeezed Carol’s hand. They were going home.
Unregistered Memory, Ryan Carter, Light Ship Astra III
Ryan’s eyes opened wide. He looked around the cabin at Conner and Alesia, who had shared the memory dive with him.
“That ship,” said Alesia. “She saw it back then, but it’s the one we shot down over the garden.”
“You’re sure?” asked Kamuek from the helm.
“Yes,” said Alesia. “I’d know it anywhere.”
“Well, there’s no mistaking it belonged to Sudhatho,” said Conner. “We’re all screwed if we can’t unmask him.”
“But he’s one of the highest mentors,” said Kamuek. “How can any of us, even together, have a chance against him?”
“With the news on our side,” said Ryan. “BrightNet is fully operational. We can relay what we know and use it to turn the people against him. Not all the aeons are in on this, obviously, so he won’t be worth the other mentors defending him once what we know comes out.”
Kamuek looked down at the light ship’s control sphere. “I will do what I can to help you, but this ship is not invulnerable. Even if it was, we have to land sometime.”
Alesia nodded. “I’ll get in touch with my purifier contacts. We’ll find somewhere safe in the northern part of the city we can retreat to if we have to hide.”
Conner touched his stomach. “My ichor is running out. Want to dive again?”
“If you have enough left.”
“Go without me. I’ll keep an eye on the city.”
Ryan clapped him on the shoulder. “Rest up. This is far from over.”
He took Alesia’s hand, and they dove in.
Unregistered Memory, Elizabeth Ashwood, Lotdel Tower
She withdrew, breathing hard from the memories of horror. Her apartment was dark, the sun sinking lower, the curtains pulled. Elizabeth rose from her chair, still charged with ichor.
She did not doubt the chaos she witnessed had really happened. Whoever had tipped them off had access to some very subtle feeds. BrightNet would run this story, and with it, they would make their first splash, for certain.
Elizabeth sighed and closed her eyes. A tickle at the back of her mind told her of another network presence approaching. She checked and found Sarah Harper waiting to converse over the network.
Her mind was not as willowy as Jeth’s, and far less wild than Elizabeth’s more recent acquaintance of Rebecca Malik. Sarah Harper’s mind felt completely composed, serene, yet down to earth. Stable.
“Evening,” Elizabeth said by way of greeting.
“Are you waiting for someone else?” Sarah asked. “Your partner, perhaps?”
“Jeth got back to the tower late today. He’s been caught up in another mess over the night. It could well make the news.”
“Don’t tease me. I am funding your network, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Thanks for the reminder, Sarah. Jeth and two of our friends were at another train station attack. One of our friends was shot and had to be taken in for treatment, but it looks like he’ll be alright. An aeon was hurt, too.”
“Celsanoggi,” said Sarah, “I heard about her. Seems the terrorists want to make a point by killing an aeon.”
“Who told you that?”
“Another aeon. Sudhatho.”
Elizabeth went rigid. She hoped Sarah had not noticed her trepidation. “The mentor from New York’s main district?”
“You know he works with me from time to time. I don’t know if he embellished or not. I will look forward to BrightNet’s reporting. And congratulations on the first few days running.”
“One day, really,” said Elizabeth. “The first of many, I hope.”
“I could drink to that,” said Sarah, “but we still have a game of chess to play first.”
“We’ll make the time.”
“I expect we will. Good luck with everything.”
“Thank you,” said Elizabeth, “and goodbye for now.”
Sarah ended the connection.
Rebecca and I returned to my apartment. I contacted Elizabeth, told her about Thomas and Celsanoggi’s injuries. She said she would be down later to discuss releasing our information. I was glad she saw things my way.
Once we went public, Sudhatho would look guiltier for going after us.
Upstairs, Rebecca sat on my couch. She frowned at the coffee table between her and the big chair on the other side, while I went to see what food I had around. After a night and most of a day of chasing and fleeing, I was hungry but didn’t feel like going to the restaurant where I might see Nageddia. She was not only Lotdel Tower’s governing aeon but also still one of Sudhatho’s closest allies in the area.
She might not be on his side if we went public, but until I knew, I thought it better not to risk setting her suspicions off.
I found enough bread and other stuff for a couple peanut butter sandwiches, and then walked into the narrow kitchen. I remembered when Rebecca had been clean, and I ran into her out here without her memories. Or her clothes.
Yeah, I partly hoped Rebecca did not remember that much, though I didn’t consider it likely.
She seemed to understand what led up to her restoration without being told.
I finished the sandwiches, set them on a plate, and returned to the living room.
Rebecca looked up at me from her chair. “Is one of those for me?” she asked.
“Whatever you want,” I said, “though if you want them both, then no.”
She smiled as I sat down across from her, setting the plate on the coffee table.
“Jeth, I know you need food, too.”
“Was it my belly that gave it away?” I asked with a smirk.
“No…just that we’re both human. Again.”
It was my turn to frown. “You don’t think you were human while you were…?”
She sighed, then shook her head. “I don’t know. Cleans are stranger than people without memories. I mean, they can—I could—do some things automatically. Like I was programmed to do them.”
“Things like?”
“Like showering.” She reddened slightly, and I realized she remembered that time in the kitchen as well as I did. “Jeth, I know it can’t have been easy to deal with me. And I only keep putting you in more danger.”
“Not true. On either count.” I looked at her over the coffee table between us. “You’re brilliant, but sometimes you miss obvious things.”
Her cheeks flushed further. “Are you talking around something, Jeth?”
“I wouldn’t dare,” I said, though my voice sounded dry even to me.
She pressed her lips together in a thin smile. “Okay then, spit it out!”
The Cleanway Page 15
