by J. V. Kade
Dad leaves early with LT and the rest of his group to get everything ready in the town center. Vee goes home just after lunch to change and promises to meet me later, so I walk down to the rally with Ratch and Scissor.
The streets are filled with people, and everyone is walking in the same direction. About two blocks away from the town center, I start seeing holo posters plastered over every open surface. Posters of my dad.
In one, he’s waving with his machine hand at some unseen person. The message at the bottom appears, then flashes bright green. Robert St. Kroix is our future, it says.
Across the street, three identical posters are taped on the brick wall of a hoverboard repair shop. The holo image starts out with President Callo, then it crumbles and a 3-D rendition of Dad stands from the rubble along with the words Rise from the Heap.
It isn’t until I see this poster that I realize how Dad must look to everyone else, with his machine parts, how strong and wrenched he is.
“People really believe in my dad, don’t they?” I ask.
Scissor is passing out flags that let off holo fireworks, so she doesn’t hear me. It’s Ratch who answers.
“Humans need something to believe in, some greater power. Without it, they’re lost.”
I look up at him. The band of orange where his eyes should be glows in the shade as we walk beneath a store’s awning. “You don’t sound like you agree with that, believing in something bigger.”
Ratch tilts his head. A flash of sunlight appears behind him, blinding me. “I believe in power, but not when it’s in the wrong hands.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means you should be careful who you give your power to.”
I want to tell him that I’m just a kid, and that I don’t really have any power to give, but by then we’re in the town center, and I’m swept into the throng of people.
The first thing I notice is a robot that stands out from the crowd by at least three feet, which would put him nearly nine feet tall. His arms are massive, like tree branches, and one lone eye glows in the center of his wide, squat head.
A little girl giggles and yells at him. “Pick me up, Jamper!” And the bot scoops her up with one hand and settles her into the crook between his head and the disc-like armor jutting out of his shoulder.
I can’t stop staring at him until Scissor nudges me forward. “They’re about to start!” she says, and nods to a stage that’s been constructed on the small block of grass right between two massive oak trees dripping with Spanish moss. Flutter-flies dart through the air, trailing banners behind them that say RISE FROM THE HEAP in big, block letters. I’m beginning to wonder if that’s the Meta-Rise’s slogan, and decide to ask Vee later.
The air is a mixture of smells: roasting peanuts and baked pretzels and burning sparklers.
We move through the assembled audience, trying to get a good spot. “There are a lot of robots here,” I say, looking around.
Ratch nods his head once. “Robots outnumber humans four to one.”
“In Bot Territory?”
He looks away. “No, in the world.”
Dad takes the stage and a hush zips through the streets. When Dad speaks, his voice is broadcast over the top of the crowd.
“Afternoon, everyone,” he says. No one utters a sound. “I’m so glad you could all be here.”
I look across the audience and it’s like I’m the only one not glued on Dad. Everyone else can’t seem to tear their eyes away. As I stand there, taking it all in, my insides fill with awe. These people are here for my dad. And they’re looking at him like he’s a wrenched hero, bigger than life.
I see it too.
“As you all know,” Dad goes on, “I believe in doing the right thing, not making trouble if it can be avoided, and following the law. But two days ago, the UD attacked my family, my sons, Mason and Aidan. Aidan got away with the help of our beloved LT.” Dad pauses as the crowd cheers and hollers. They all turn to LT, who’s standing just behind Dad.
Next to me, Scissor’s audience track hoots and her LED panel flashes bright yellow.
“But,” Dad starts, and the crowd quiets again, “the UD got hold of my older boy, Mason. A veteran of the Bot Wars, a hero in his own right.” Dad takes a deep breath. “And I am the reason they took him. Because the UD looks at me like a terrorist. And why? Because I support bots?
“Robots are not the problem.” Dad clenches his machine hand into a fist and raises it in the air. “Robots gave me this and in doing so, they gave me another chance at life, the ability to see the world through their eyes. And let me tell you, it’s a good view to have.”
Ratch crosses his arms over his chest, rocks his shoulders back, and sweeps the crowd with his band of eyes.
The audience hollers their support. Goose bumps crawl over my arms. There’s so much energy here, it’s like it’s running through my veins.
“The UD is naïve to think our nation would be better without robots,” Dad says. “We can exist together. And if the UD can’t agree with that, then we, Bot Territory, want our freedom.
“Enough of living in the UD’s shadow. We are our own nation. A nation of robot supporters and we are proud of that!”
The crowd explodes in cheers. Dad stands center stage, his machine hand still raised in the air, his metal face plate blazing in the light of holo fireworks going off all around him.
My chest swells with a warm, fuzzy feeling, and I don’t care if that’s totally lame. I’m so proud of my dad, my eyes sting. This is why he had to stay here. To the humans and robots in Bot Territory, he’s more than just my dad. He’s their leader, silently as the head of the Meta-Rise, and out in the open as a half-man, half-robot hero.
I want to race to the stage and hug my dad real tight. I want to tell him how proud I am.
When the crowd quiets again, Dad continues. “I am promising you, all of you, human and bot alike, that I will not stop until robots are given their rights, or until Bot Territory has its freedom.”
More cheers and applause. Dad lowers his hand. “If you’re wondering what you can do for Bot Territory, there are booths all over the town center. There are many ways to lend support, and no effort is too small. Now, everyone, enjoy yourselves. There’s plenty of food to go around!”
Dad exits the stage amid a riot of noise. Parker, Jules, and LT follow behind him.
I have a big smile plastered on my face as I make my way over to Dad, pushing through the masses. I’m just feet away when Cole, the big tattooed guy from the Fort, hurries up to Dad and whispers something in his ear.
Dad’s face falls. He searches the crowd till he finds me squeezed between a woman with a crying baby in her arms and a man letting off fireworks.
Dad doesn’t move, or try to say anything, but I know instantly what Cole whispered in his ear.
Po. It’s something about my brother.
I shove through till I’m standing right next to Dad. “What’s going on?” I ask.
Dad takes a deep breath. “We just got word. The UD is allowing your brother to call home.”
• • •
“Under no circumstance will you be present during a phone call with the UD government,” Dad says once we’re back at the Fort.
“But, he’s my brother! I want to talk to him.”
Dad shakes his head as he and Parker enter the elevator. “You’re to stay out of sight. Do you understand me? I don’t want the UD knowing for certain that you’re here. At least not yet.” Dad looks at LT, who’s standing behind me. “I’ll call you up when we’re done. I don’t want to expose all of you to this if I can help it.”
LT nods. Ratch shifts next to me, like he’s itching to go up to command center just as badly as I am. Jules and Cole plop down at the table with a box of doughnuts between them. “G
ood luck,” Cole says around a long John.
The elevator slides closed.
“Pssst,” Vee whispers in my ear.
I nearly lurch outta my skin. I didn’t know she was here, let alone right behind me.
She wiggles a finger. “Come on.”
“Where are you two going?” LT asks.
“Back to the rally,” Vee answers. “They just opened the virtual Mars tent.”
LT thinks for a second, and I can tell he’s trying to figure out if Vee is lying or not. I don’t even know if she is, but she must pass LT’s test, because he says, “All right. I will call you if we hear anything.”
Vee tugs me toward the stairwell, but once we’re out of sight, she veers left toward the media room.
“What are we doing?” I whisper.
“You want to listen in on that call with your brother, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah . . .”
Vee leads me up to the rope bridges, past the sitting area, through a supply closet, up a metal ladder, and through a hatch in the roof. Wind blasts me in the face and I suck in a breath.
“Climb out,” she instructs, so I hop onto the roof. Gravel and old tar grits beneath my shoes. Vee shuts the hatch behind us, and together we scuttle across the roof.
Command center’s leaded glass ceiling glows in the fading light in front of me. I can hear the distant sounds of the rally several blocks away. The pop of fireworks. The cheer of the crowd. Music blasting from a band.
We crouch at the corner of the glass ceiling and look down into the Fort. Dad and Parker stand in the middle of the room, waiting. The screen on the wall is dark, so Po must not have called yet.
Vee grabs a screwdriver that was tucked in a vent and quietly, carefully, slides open one of the ceiling’s vent panels.
“I take it you’ve done this before?” I say, nodding at the screwdriver in her hand.
“You could say that.”
“How did you even know how to get up here?”
She flashes me a grin. “If you need to get somewhere, I’m usually the girl to ask. There aren’t many places I can’t reach.”
I shake my head, in awe. “Anyone ever tell you you’re wrenched, Vee?”
She shrugs. “It’s no big deal.”
Something buzzes in the room down below. Vee and I get in close to the open panel and listen.
Parker looks at Dad. “You ready?”
Dad sets his hands on his hips. “As ready as I can be.”
Parker taps something on a control board, ending the buzzing noise.
“Hey, Dad,” Po says as he appears on the giant screen. The instant I hear his voice, my chest crackles with hope.
I lean closer to the vent and press my face against the glass above it. I’m so happy to see my brother, I want to shout. But then I get a good look at him and everything inside of me sinks. The skin beneath his left eye is bruised and swollen. Blood is crusted to the corner of his mouth. He looks tired, more than anything. He doesn’t look scared, though. Po isn’t afraid of anything.
“It’s nice to see you,” Po says to Dad. “You got older, though, since the last time.”
Dad chuckles. “I could say the same for you.” Dad clears his throat. “How they treating you?”
Po shrugs. “It’s not an island vacation, but I’m surviving.”
Beard appears on-screen next to Po, her brown hair sprayed into submission. It’s poofy behind her ears, flat at the top of her head. One lone hunk of hair has been gelled to the side of her face. It looks like a stalagmite.
“Unfortunately, gentlemen, this isn’t a reunion. We’ve a message to relay.” She nudges Po’s shoulder. “Go on.”
Po looks at the ground, cracks a knuckle, then takes a deep breath. “They say they’ll let me go if you turn yourself in. And if you don’t . . .” He winces when he moves just a sliver of an inch, like he has more bruises than the ones that are visible. “I’ll be sentenced as a person affiliated with known bot supporters.”
Vee and I share a look. I don’t know what that kind of sentence is, but it can’t be good.
“Mr. St. Kroix,” Beard says, “I’m sure you’re aware of the mandatory sentencing for a person affiliated with bot supporters.”
Dad takes a step toward the screen. The expression on his face reminds me of that look Po got once when he had the flu, right before he puked all over the place. Even Dad’s metal face plate looks green. “That punishment is taking it a bit far, don’t you think?” he says.
“It’s the law, Mr. St. Kroix.”
“What’s the sentencing?” I whisper to Vee. “What’s it mean?”
She looks pained as she tells me. “Immediate execution.”
“What?” I start to shout, but Vee clamps her hand over my mouth, cutting me off. I breathe through my nose as she says, “Shhhh!”
Down on the street, a bunch of kids laugh and screech. A second later, a firecracker snaps and hisses.
Beard holds up a SimPad, prompts the screen with a finger, and looks back at Dad. “Let’s move on, shall we? I want to talk about the people you have working for you.” She reads from the Sim. “Jules Montgomery. Once a decorated Air Force computer programmer, now a wanted hacker, responsible for the crash of Tak-On Corp, who fled during the height of the wars. Cole Vincent, a military colonel wanted for the heinous crime of breaking free an entire prison of robots and robot supporters during the war.” Beard tsks and shakes her head. “And the robot known as LT who illegally crossed into UD territory and kidnapped a minor.”
“A minor you were planning to kidnap,” Dad says, his voice low and throaty. “My son. An innocent child.”
“Not innocent,” Beard insists. She swings her attention finally to Vee’s dad. “And Parker Dade, a genius cartographer. You’re the whole reason so many people and bots have been able to successfully cross from Bot Territory into the UD and vice versa.”
Parker leans against the corner of a desk and props the heels of his hands on the edge. He doesn’t say a word.
“What’s this all about?” Dad asks.
“These are the people I demand in exchange for your son’s freedom.”
Dad holds up his machine hand. “You’re demanding people who aren’t even involved in my family’s issues.”
“This isn’t about you and your family, Mr. St. Kroix. This is about the safety of the people of the United Districts. This is about you helping to harbor criminals. As long as you’re free, the entire UD is in danger. You don’t think we know what you’re planning? You and your Meta-Rise and Old New York? There’s no telling how far people will go when they’re acting on their beliefs, fighting for power they think is rightly theirs.” She shakes her head, but her hair stays firmly in place. “We are only protecting our country and our citizens.”
“You can’t expect these people to turn themselves in, in exchange for only Po,” Dad argues.
“No,” Beard says, “I don’t.” She comes closer to the camera, so her face takes up the entire screen and I lose sight of Po. “What I do expect is that a father will do whatever it takes to rescue his son. Including turning on his own friends.”
“I’ll go,” Parker says. “Me and Robert. That’s it. In exchange for Po.”
Vee lunges to her feet, and now it’s my turn to stop her from shouting. I move to cover her mouth with a hand, but she bats me away. I stagger back and clip the edge of the vent panel with my elbow. The glass rattles.
Vee and I hit the ground, me on my back, her on her stomach. She arches a brow as if to say, Now look what you did!
I squeeze my eyes shut and listen real hard. I can still hear Beard’s voice filtering through the vent and I breathe a sigh of relief that we went unnoticed.
“This isn’t a negotiation,” Beard says. “I’ve g
iven you my terms. You have until three o’clock two days from now. Turn yourself in to the police station in Edge Flats, Texas. We know that’s your unofficial headquarters on this side of the border. You have safe houses all over the city, don’t you?”
Dad doesn’t answer, but since I know Dekker’s is a safe house, and that he can’t possibly be the only one, I’m betting Beard is right.
“If you’re missing even one of your cohorts,” Beard goes on, “your son will enter the court system at three oh two p.m. Good day.”
I pop up and peek through the glass, willing to risk being caught to see my brother again. I catch one final glimpse of him as he waves good-bye to Dad, raising both his cuffed hands, just before the vid cuts out. I stare at the screen, hoping it’ll come back on, that I’ll get just a few more minutes.
“Three o’clock, two days from now.” Parker pushes away from the desk, but his boots are silent on the concrete floor. “You think it’s a trap?”
Dad turns away and bows his head. “Could be.”
The elevator opens and Jules, Cole, Ratch, and LT step out.
“We watched the feed downstairs,” Jules says. “But we only heard what Hopper said, obviously. God, that woman is a snake.”
“A perfect metaphor,” LT says.
“I’m not sure snake is the word I would use,” Ratch says.
Cole drops into his desk chair and turns to Dad. “I guess it’s no longer a secret that you got the baddest dudes working with you. I’m kinda honored she included me in the mix.”
Jules laughs. “I’m sure that was some sort of mistake. What could they possibly want with a wimpy ex-military colonel?”
Cole curls his mouth in a sneer. “You find yourself so funny, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“Parker,” Dad says, ignoring the jokes, “we got a safe route into the UD yet? Can we snatch Po back without risk to anyone?”
Parker looks to Jules. “Bring up the diagram?”
Jules slips into her chair and types in two quick commands. A blueprint of Brack and City Hall comes up on the screen. Parker slides a thin rubber glove on his right hand with tiny white dots that run down his fingers. When he points, his hand is projected on the screen.
