The governor’s eyes flashed a warning. Terry was toeing a line he didn’t dare cross, not with her. Carl noted the exchange but uncharacteristically held his tongue.
“Madam Governor,” said Nwaynna. “Is there anything else you need from me?”
The governor shook her head. “You can return to what you were doing. Thank you.”
Nwaynna left the conference room, and the door closed behind her.
The governor turned to Carl. “Carl, I want security at the entrance to the mines doubled, and nobody gets below level ten without direct authorization from me. Are we understood?”
Carl’s face was still red, but he nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
The governor shifted her attention to Terry. Even though he was forty, when she looked at him like that, he felt like a kid being scrutinized by the school principal. “I want security to go through the personnel records of each and every person that has access to the mines. We caught one guy, but now we know there’s someone else. Someone out there who knows something they shouldn’t.”
“Understood.” Terry grimaced. There was a confirmed spy in their midst, and it was on him his people to find them.
The governor panned her gaze across the attendees and said, “You all know that Earth’s government wants to rip up the treaties which give this colony its sovereignty. They’ll go to any lengths to justify it, and as you know, they’ve been sending spies to further that cause. And now, their target seems to have gained a focus.” She stood. “I can’t answer the question that you’re all thinking about. What’s on level twelve. Suffice it to say it’s a secret that has guaranteed the colony’s safety since before any of you were born—and we can’t let those UN bastards get ahold of it. I’ll be sitting down with each of you later to go over some contingency plans if things go to hell, but in the meantime, make sure you keep your eyes peeled for anything that looks out of the ordinary. Make sure any concerns go to our head of security.” She hitched her thumb toward Terry. “We now know for certain there’s a concerted effort by the UN to penetrate our defenses. People, this is as serious as it gets. Stay alert. Dismissed.”
Chapter Five
Priya sat in her apartment’s kitchenette with her Aunt Jen, who was sniffling with a cold.
“Herbal tea,” said Aunt Jen to the food processor, and not for the first time. “I want herbal tea.”
“Myrtle tea is not in this unit’s database. Do you want me to connect to the manufacturer’s website and check for updates?”
“Bloody hell!” Priya snapped. “Herbal tea, you pile of rusted-out bolts. Herbal bloody tea!”
“You’re asking for herbal tea, please confirm.”
“Yes!” they yelled at the same time.
The machine began making a brewing noise. Seconds later a stream of steaming tea dribbled into Aunt Jen’s oversized mug.
Priya shook her head. “You’d think that bloody thing would have a voice recognition that could deal with head colds, for God’s sake.”
Her aunt retrieved her tea and sipped at it. “It’s an old unit. I got it back home at the West End. A solid British brand, but it does take a little fussing with.” She sat down across from Priya. “So, what’s with this internship mail we got today? You’re not seriously thinking about changing your major after all this time, are you?”
Her aunt’s concern gave Priya an ache in her stomach. She didn’t want to lie to her auntie, but she sure as hell couldn’t tell her the truth. “Yeah, I meant to say something about that, but I’m not really supposed to talk about the details. It’s sort of hush-hush and all. Anyway, I got an offer for future employment that’s really fantastic, but they wanted me to get some experience at the colony.”
“Really?” Aunt Jen said, frowning. “Isn’t it all hooligans and roughnecks? Is it even safe?”
Priya laughed, even though inside she wanted to cry. “It’s fine, Aunt Jen. Trust me.” She sipped at her own tea. “Did you realize there are places we can’t go on the tube network?”
“Where is it that you need to go?”
“It’s not that I want to go there, it’s just… I mean, I started looking into it, and for me to visit friends far away, like, let’s say, Idaho, I’d need to file a request with the transit authorities and wait until they give me permission to go. And I’ve heard some people actually get denied travel, like they’re common criminals.”
“Oh, pish posh.” Aunt Jen blew her nose in a napkin. “You can’t just expect to use resources like the tube willy-nilly. These things need planning. Arrangement for proper usage of a limited thing. There’s only so many tubes, and we can’t all be going everywhere at once. Someone needs to coordinate the use of resources so that those with a real need are prioritized. It’s not so big of a deal. I took a tube to Los Angeles once; it only took a day or two to get cleared for that trip.”
Priya sighed. “It just seems odd to me. I’ve read stories about people driving wherever they want, whenever they want.”
“Driving?” Her aunt frowned. “My Gran told me about that. You have no idea how unsafe those vehicles were.”
“The tubes aren’t exactly safe either,” Priya said quietly.
Her aunt realized her mistake. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“No, I’m sorry. That was a long time ago.”
Aunt Jen took another sip of her tea. “Generally speaking, the tubes are quite safe, despite the tragedy with your parents. Those vehicles people used to go in… they were suicide. And this is much better for the environment.”
Priya quickly shifted the conversation before her aunt could begin one of her rants about the environment. “Aunt Jen, have you ever read On the Road by Jack Kerouac?”
“I can’t say that I have.”
“It’s from before the Exodus. I’ve read a lot of that stuff. There was another one called Blue Highways. They talked about all these places that aren’t serviced by the tubes, and… I just wonder what happened to those places. What those places are like.”
“Well, if they don’t have a tube station, they can’t be very nice,” her aunt said. “What made you read those old books anyway?”
“It was a while ago. After Mum and Dad died, you remember I buried myself in my books.”
“Ah, yes. I was glad you found an escape in them.”
“I guess I did. But partly because the people in those books, the authors of those books, they found real escapes. Like Neil Peart, the author of Ghost Rider. His wife and daughter died, and he dealt with his grief by riding a motorcycle all across North America, down to Mexico, and even further south before coming back. He visited friends, cried, and just… rode. It’s hard to imagine such a thing nowadays… being alone with my thoughts. It seems like an impossible thing to do.”
“And dangerous.” Aunt Jen set her mug on the table. “Priya, are you okay? Do you need something?”
“No, I’m fine,” Priya lied, draining the rest of her tea.
She did need something, but the world she lived in couldn’t provide it.
As Priya walked into her bedroom, Harold tapped a message on her scalp. “A signal activated as we entered your room.”
She turned around and returned to Aunt Jen, who was working a crossword puzzle she’d activated on the holo-device.
“Has anyone been in my bedroom?”
Her aunt nodded absently. “As a matter of fact, a maintenance person came earlier today to do a deep clean of the air vents. Why, is there something wrong?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
Priya tried to act calm as she left the apartment, but her heart was racing. She was being watched. In her own home.
Adrenaline dumped into her bloodstream, and panic bloomed in her chest. She felt like there were eyes everywhere, and she had to get away. When a neighbor looked at her and smiled, she could barely stop herself from sprinting in the opposite direction. Somehow she mustered a small wave and strode quickly out of the apartment complex.
But when she wa
s down the street, she began running.
She ran all the way through North Coral Springs, not slowing until she reached the woods at the edge of the neighborhood. The sign there warned her away from the woods, labeling it a restricted area, but for once she didn’t care. She had to get away. She had to be alone. The last six weeks had been hell on her. Ever since that first meeting with the colonel, her life had been ripped away from her. Ever since then, she’d been on edge.
She ignored the sign and entered the woods.
But after a hundred feet, she collapsed to her knees. She wasn’t used to running like that, and she felt an iron band around her chest as she gasped for breath. Her physical exhaustion, combined with her suddenly out-of-control fear and paranoia and her fading adrenaline rush… it was all too much.
She covered her face and began to cry. Deep, shuddering sobs.
She felt Harold move from her head, sliding himself down and into her lap. She needed his comfort, and she reached out to pet him. But instead of a kitten in her lap, she felt something hard and smooth.
She looked down. Harold had turned himself into a tray.
“Harold?”
The middle of the tray shimmered, and a video clip appeared. Two figures that Priya recognized: Neeta and Burt Radcliffe. Her many-times-great-grandmother and grandfather.
They were holding each other, and they were crying.
Priya’s emotions drained away as she watched the scene. She’d never seen this video in any archival footage. When was this?
Neeta pulled her husband’s face to her shoulder and rubbed the back of his head. As she did so, she turned to face Priya directly, her cheeks still wet with tears, and spoke.
“If you’re seeing this message, it’s because the alien device has recognized the time is almost right. The time when you, my dearest child, need to be strong for us all.”
Burt raised his head and faced Priya as well. His face was rugged and wrinkled—he was probably deep into his seventies. But despite his age and bloodshot eyes, there was a fire burning there, and when he smiled, his face lit up.
“With your grandmother’s blood in you, I have complete faith in your ability to do what’s needed.” He gave his wife a kiss. “It’s time you know what really happened during our flight from where humanity came from. I wish we could tell you all this in person, but with the way things are, I’m sure that we’ll be long gone before you get this. If things are as we fear, you have probably been told a bunch of lies.”
Neeta picked up from there. “First, you must know that David Holmes did not die of a heart attack like the government has probably told you. They’ve already started that lie in our time. Hell, it’s possible they’ll have washed him out of the history books altogether by the time you receive this. But David Holmes… he was the man who truly saved all of humanity during what they’re now calling the Great Exodus. Don’t believe anyone who says otherwise. And they killed him.”
Burt nodded. “It’s true. They killed him, and now they’re silencing everyone who knows better. Which is why we need to record this message.” He sighed. “Since there’s no way of knowing what history is teaching you, I suppose we need to start from the beginning: with the discovery that there had been alien life on Epsilon…”
Priya watched attentively as her two ancestors took turns telling her about what had really happened well over a century ago.
Priya sat for a long time after watching the video. So many things were now rattling around in her head. Some of it chilled her to the bone with its prophetic nature, while other parts made no sense. So many secrets. So many lies. And so much of it was confusing. Neeta and Burt hadn’t known when their message would be heard—and probably didn’t expect it would lie dormant for a hundred and fifty years—and so didn’t really know what precisely would need to be explained.
And Neeta looked so much like her. Or maybe it was more accurate to say that she looked so much like Neeta.
Harold had changed back into a kitten, and she rubbed his belly. “I always knew you were something different. Alien technology? I guess I’m not surprised. And thank you.” She scooped him up and kissed his nose. “Thank you for carrying that message for so long. I’m forever grateful.”
The last golden rays of sunshine were piercing the woods when a twig snapped nearby. Priya quickly hopped up onto her feet to find a soldier approaching, a rifle held at the ready.
“These woods are restricted, ma’am. Didn’t you see the signs?”
Panicking, Priya blurted out a slightly modified scene from a twentieth-century movie she’d watched some years ago. “I’m sorry! My best friend’s sister’s boyfriend’s brother’s girlfriend heard from this guy who knows this kid who’s going with a girl who heard that there’s a ghost in these woods.”
The soldier paused as if trying to absorb all that.
“Sir, is there a ghost in the woods? Because my best friend’s sister’s boyfriend’s—”
“Stop!” The soldier shook his head, his expression pained. He pointed his gun back in the direction of the neighborhood. “Go tell your stupid friend she’s wrong. And if I catch any of you kids in these woods again, you’ll regret it.”
Priya nodded. “Yes, sir.”
As she ran back to her apartment, she couldn’t help but feel amazed that something useful had come from the ancient classic Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.
It was pitch black outside as Sergeant Todd Winslow, who wasn’t in uniform for this mission, climbed through the break in the chain-link fence. He was in unmonitored territory—a place where the standard video surveillance and security services were unavailable. As he was in charge of perimeter security for Cape Canaveral, he knew where the gaps in surveillance were. Strictly speaking, it was illegal for citizens to enter such places. Strictly speaking, he didn’t plan to get caught.
He jogged about two klicks north to a dilapidated bomb shelter that was left over from the twentieth century. A building that was in service long before the UN took over the US’s military operations and things went to hell. Todd neared the dark shadow of the concrete bunker and heard the call of a seagull.
It wasn’t really a seagull. Not at this time of the night.
He reached into his pocket and pressed three times on a button that did nothing but make a distinct click click.
Three shadows materialized out of the darkness. One whispered, “One second and it’ll be here.”
There was no moon in the night sky, and Todd could barely make out the three men—his contacts for the local faction of the Rebels. The Rebels were a militia group that lived outside normal society; they’d been on the UN’s hit list for ages. Todd’s father was the leader of one of the larger Rebel groups somewhere in the wilds of Montana.
From above came the buzzing sound of an approaching drone. It came down and stopped on the ground inches from his feet.
“It’s already autodialed and connected to Chrysalis,” one of the men whispered. “Do it quick, because it’s programmed to go back in one minute.”
Todd knelt down and watched with fascination as the drone morphed into a rectangular box with a long antenna. A high-powered transmitter.
He put the box to his ear and heard a voice. “Remember, there’s a four-minute delay between our locations. I won’t be able to respond to anything you say before the transmitter deactivates. Just send me what you need to be done. I’ll do what I can.”
Todd plugged a secure storage chip into the alien device. “I’m sending an image of a new intern. She’s a Radcliffe. She’ll be leaving here in a few days. You know what to do.”
The transmitter vibrated briefly. He removed the storage chip, which immediately crumbled to dust. He set the transmitter back on the ground. The metal moved as if it were alive, transforming itself back into a drone that launched itself into the sky and vanished in the night.
The men that had met him had also disappeared.
Todd said a little prayer as his message streaked at the speed o
f light to the colony. “I hope I haven’t done something that will bite me in the ass.”
“For those of you who have never been off the grid, let me fill you in on a few facts…”
Priya stared out the window of the bus as it drove along the ancient highway called US 119 North. They were passing through a farming area, and the neat rows of vegetation were unlike anything she’d ever seen. Out here, you could see for miles and miles. The only time she’d ever seen such a vast expanse was when she was at the beach, and even then, the erosion prevention facilities rose up about a half mile offshore, blocking her view of anything more distant.
“We’ll be covering just over three hundred miles on our journey to tour the decommissioned Marshall County Mine. With tube travel, this would be a pleasant ten-minute journey; by bus, this is a three-hour trek. So sit back and enjoy the view. What you’re seeing are the remnants of a time long past when people worked the land and commuted using fossil fuels.”
The woman talking was standing at the front of the bus, speaking into a microphone. If it weren’t for the microphone and various speakers throughout the vehicle, the road noise would have drowned her out. It was quite a contrast to the quiet of travel in the tube network.
“You can thank the UN Education Council and Virginia’s Department of Mines, Minerals, and Energy for giving the Virginia Mining School permission to take this unusual trip. If you have questions at any point during the ride or the tour, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
One of the interns raised his hand. He had to shout to be heard. “This highway is hundreds of years old—pre-Exodus according to the literature you gave us. How has it stayed in such good condition?”
“Good question. As you can see, most of these lands were converted for farming use. Millions of acres are being processed by machinery to grow the food we eat. The highway system is still used to transport those harvests—using much larger vehicles than this one—and is maintained for that purpose.”
Freedom's Last Gasp Page 6
