by C. A. Gray
I talked louder, to drown out the voices in my head.
“But in time, I was successfully ‘rehabilitated’ and sent home again. Maggie was not. She fled for her life, and ultimately she was killed—not because she posed a threat to anyone, but because the government considered it dangerous to let anyone live who knew the truth.
“When I began to realize all of this, my fiancé at the time, Will Anderson, started to help me with my investigations. He was a computer hacker, and he began to uncover information that confirmed and fleshed out my own memories and realizations.
“When I first disappeared,” I told the camera, “it was because I’d gotten word that Will had been killed in an accident. I knew it wasn’t an accident though, and I knew that if the government thought I had anything to do with the things that he was investigating, I’d be next.
“So I fled for my life. I found a community of refugees who all knew the truth—the very same refugees whom you’ve heard described as terrorists.” I caught my breath, and couldn’t even look at Jackson’s face. “It turned out, my fiancé Will managed to escape after all as well, and when we found each other again, he told me that the Potentate is even now building control centers in other nations so that he can expand his influence internationally. He plans to release the same virus there as well, to make it easier for him to take over. This is truly an international crisis.” I reminded myself of the stage notes I’d made for myself: look directly at camera. Speak urgently. “New Estonia, if you are listening, we need your help. You are next. As we speak, Ben Voltolini is building control centers on your own soil, disguising them as textile factories of which you would take little notice.”
There was never a virus. There are no control centers. Jackson made it all up.
“But I believe that all people have the right to freedom!” I declared, shouting now over the thoughts I couldn’t seem to control. “And freedom starts in your mind!”
I’m not free. Someone is controlling me.
But who?
“The old United States had a Declaration of Independence that said, ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.’ Liberty is one of our unalienable rights. You and I have the right to be free—”
Suddenly the screen that had shown my face in the back of the room went blank, with white interference. The cameras had stopped working.
Then the Potentate’s face appeared instead. He was sitting in his office, and his expression was sympathetic.
Everyone’s jaws dropped. Michael signaled for us to stop recording, and cranked up the volume on the screen.
“Miss Brandeis,” the Potentate said. “Like the rest of the Republic, I’ve been listening to your broadcast with great interest. While it is obviously well rehearsed and quite articulate, at this point I really must interrupt. You have indeed been brainwashed, my dear, but not by us.” He shook his head. “Look around you, Kate. What do you see? Is it the dystopian world you have described to the people of the Republic just now? Or is it the world of freedom and affluence you’ve grown up in?”
I felt my fingers tingle and begin to go numb. I started to bounce them on the arm rests of the chair I sat in, trying to get them to wake up.
He’s right. He’s right. He’s right.
The Potentate went on, “People of the Republic, Miss Brandeis came to you today in good faith, speaking what she believes to be the truth. But it is not. I am sorry to tell you that, as she has told you herself, Kate has a history of mental instability. As a child she was indeed sent to a special school, but not because she ‘failed to conform,’ as she puts it. I’ve looked up her records, and quite simply, she was sent to an insane asylum, because she had lost touch with reality. The injections she described were medications for her illness, to help her get well. She indeed recovered, and was reintegrated into society at that time.
“Unfortunately her mind has always been weak and suggestible, and our enemies—particularly her captor, Jackson MacNamera—have convinced her that we are the enemy. MacNamera is now attempting to use her influence over you as a psychological weapon of terror.
“Let me remind you all that just yesterday, MacNamera brutally slaughtered seven members of your Tribunal, and on several other occasions, his reentry onto Republic soil has resulted in the untimely deaths of several loyal government agents, attempting to protect you all from him.
“MacNamera is not even a citizen of the Republic; he belongs to Iceland, a nation we have never previously considered to be our enemies. As we speak, your government is diligently researching whether or not MacNamera represents a larger terrorist organization from the nation of Iceland, or whether he simply took advantage of the weak minds of citizens of our own Republic. Regardless, I can promise you that we will not rest until MacNamera has been brought to justice for his heinous crimes. We, the remaining members of the Tribunal, shall continue to fight for your security, your health, your happiness, and your continued prosperity.”
Voltolini shifted in his chair, and while he was looking at the camera lens before, now he seemed to look directly into my eyes. His voice lowered, and he said as if soothing a small child, “Kate. The way you think you feel about your captor has a name. It’s called Stockholm Syndrome.”
I caught my breath, and didn’t dare to look at anyone in the room.
His words felt true.
“MacNamera has held you captive for so long now, and brainwashed you so thoroughly, that you believe you’ve actually come to care for him. It’s a well-documented psychological phenomena, and you're not to be blamed for it. But he’s using your feelings for him against you. I urge you to examine your memories with him. See if what I say isn’t true.”
All eyes in the room focused on me: I could feel them burning into my flesh. I closed my eyes and squeezed them shut, desperately trying to focus.
Was I ever Jackson’s captive?
I couldn’t think of a time when I had been—but, did that mean anything? After all, I once felt the same way about the Republic. They’d always been good to me… until suddenly they weren’t. And I realized they never had been.
What is truth?
Flashes flooded my mind of Jackson on the roof of the Potentate’s palace with my family, hypnotizing them into submission.
No, he didn’t hypnotize them, I told myself severely. In the Jaguar yesterday, Charlie had said to Jackson, “Why don’t you just hypnotize them or something?” What was it Jackson said? “Mind control is your government’s specialty, not mine.”
But he would say that, wouldn’t he? If he were controlling our minds right then?
“Kate,” said the Potentate, and I opened my eyes. I was trembling all over. He was still there, staring directly at me through the screen. It felt like he could see me. “We care about you, and you need our help. I personally offer you full pardon for your participation in terrorist activities—in exchange for the life of Jackson MacNamera.”
The seal of the Republic appeared on the screen, and it went blank.
Chapter 38: Jackson
As soon as the Republic seal appeared and the broadcast ended, I tried to make myself turn and look at Kate. But for a few seconds, my body wouldn’t respond. I was too afraid of what I would see.
I already knew what I would see. I couldn’t face it.
“Kate, what the hell?” demanded Charlie. I turned around then, and watched as Charlie ran up to his sister. She was shaking, but she was staring at me—eyes wide, cringing away from me like a frightened animal. It reminded me of the first time I’d met her in the caves, when she was trying to make sense of the fact that the world wasn’t what she’d thought it had been all her life. It was happening again now, but I couldn’t understand why.
Charlie shook Kate’s shoulders. “Look at me!” he demanded.
With ap
parent effort, Kate snapped her eyes away from me and focused on him.
“You look like you actually just bought that sack of crap,” Charlie snapped. “Tell me that isn’t true. You know that guy’s evil, right?”
She looked at me again at the word evil, searching my face. It made me want to cry.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so powerless.
“Hello?” Charlie shook her again, forcing her attention back to him. “Remember how Voltolini threw us in prison, two days ago? Remember how he threatened to kill Mom and Dad if you didn’t deliver Jackson to him? That didn’t work, so now he’s trying another approach. That’s all!”
Kate opened her mouth, and croaked, “Charlie. What’s happening to me?”
“I don’t know, but it looks like they somehow sent you messages customized for you in the middle of the broadcast,” Charlie muttered. “I didn’t think that was possible, but then again, what do I know…”
Customized messages? I felt a surge of hope. If that was true, if it was possible, at least that would explain it.
“We have to get back to the signal disruptors, and fast,” I ordered. That seemed to be Kate’s only chance. “Plus, the agents are likely to get here any second.”
“Agents?” said Grant, looking at Michael.
Michael nodded. “I’m sure they traced the broadcast signal. They know it’s us.”
“Um,” said Grant, raising his eyebrows in alarm. “Don’t you think maybe we all need to go with them, then?”
“We only have one car,” said Charlie. “There’s no room—”
“I have a car,” said Michael. “So does Grant.” I counted the crew members: there were seven of them. “That’ll fit us all. Come on, everybody!”
The crew all looked relieved, and bottlenecked around the door in their haste to get out. Charlie forced Kate to her feet, as Michael called back, “But where are we headed?”
“Friedrichsburg,” I called back immediately. It was the only place I could think of. We didn’t have a headquarters anymore, now that Beckenshire had been leveled—but if there was any chance of meeting up with the hunters, any chance that any of them were still alive, we’d find them in the forest somewhere between Friedrichsburg and Beckenshire. If they were there, and if their trail wasn’t too cold yet, hopefully I could track them.
I ran back to Charlie and Kate. He tried to pull her toward the door by her shoulders, but she pulled away, her hands up in the air like she might throw a punch. Her pupils constricted as her eyes darted from Charlie to me and back again.
Reasoning with her wasn’t going to work. She was well past that point.
Grandfather? I pleaded mentally. What would he do in this situation?
Then it occurred to me: even if the control center was able to target stronger signals to Kate’s brainwaves, they couldn’t read her mind, could they?
Because if they couldn’t, then that meant they couldn’t directly taint her memories of me. They wouldn’t know about them.
I raised my hands in the air too, trying to show Kate that I meant no harm. Then I said, “Remember when I first met you? You were sick. Nick had found you in the forest, and you were still feverish. You were so scared, like you are now. You were just trying to make sense of everything.”
She stared at me and didn’t respond, but I saw the recognition in her eyes.
I went on, “I brought you breakfast the next morning. Root vegetables we’d gathered from the gardens, and game meat. You ate it and I sat by you in silence, until you started to cry, about Will, and about everything you’d lost. Then we talked about how important grief was, for healing. I almost held you, but I didn’t, because I could tell you weren’t ready for that. Instead I told you I just wanted to be your friend, and you said you could use one of those. Remember?”
Tears sprung into her eyes again, and she gave me a tiny nod. I took that as encouragement, and took a step in her direction, my hands still in the air. She didn’t back away.
“Dude,” Charlie said nervously, “They’re gonna be here any second. We’ve got to get out of here.”
“In a minute,” I said, my eyes never leaving Kate’s face. I went on, “Remember how we went down to the stream by the caves to talk? You kissed me there for the first time.” I searched her face, and I saw it soften—or perhaps crumble was the more appropriate word. “All I wanted to do was kiss you back, but you’d just lost your fiancé, and I didn’t want to take advantage of you. So I pushed you away. I lay awake that night kicking myself, wondering if I’d done the right thing.”
My voice broke, and I took another step toward her. I saw her muscles shudder, but again, she didn’t back away.
“Jackson…” said Charlie.
I held up one hand to silence him, and went on, “After the soldiers blew up the caves, on our way to Beckenshire, you approached me and asked me to teach you to hunt. Remember? Remember the bear that would’ve killed us both in another twenty feet? You were so hard on yourself that you didn’t manage to kill it, the very first time you’d ever hunted. You told me you thought it meant you were weak. But the next time, with the buck, you did it all by yourself. You even cleaned it mostly without my help, even though you’d never done it before. You’re a strong woman, Kate.” I took another step toward her.
“Stop!” she begged, thrusting her hands toward me, palms first. “Don’t come any closer!”
I started to feel desperate. Behind us, Charlie looked out the window and cried, “Jackson! They’re here!”
“Then go!” I told him over my shoulder. “Catch up with the team. Get your parents out of here.”
“But what about you guys?”
“I’ll take care of Kate and me. Go! Get to Friedrichsburg, we’ll meet you there!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charlie hesitate for a second, but only for a second. Then he ran for the door.
I turned back to Kate. I had to make her understand. I had to.
“Remember what you said to me last night?” I asked her, pleading. She didn’t respond, and I urged again, “Remember?”
Her breath came in a short gasp, and tears slipped down her cheeks in earnest now.
“What did you say to me, Kate?” I prompted.
She opened her mouth, and it just hung there for a second.
“I said… I…”
A group of agents burst into the room, weapons drawn.
“Jackson MacNamera, you are under arrest for treason and terrorism by order of the Potentate!” cried one, shoving the barrel of a semiautomatic into my back.
Nine agents, I counted at a glance. Too many to take down and try to protect Kate at the same time. Judging by the ruckus I could hear downstairs, I suspected there were more waiting outside the building, too.
When I turned back to Kate, though, I saw the agent who approached her lower his weapon and hold out a protective arm.
“Miss Brandeis, are you all right?”
Kate froze, looking from the agent to me. Then she looked back at the agent again, nodded, and allowed him to put his arm around her shoulder.
She might as well have stabbed me.
The agent with his arm around Kate barked at me, “The Potentate has commanded us to inform you that the bullets in our guns are classic and not deep impact, so he suggests you not resist this time.” I could tell that he was just relaying a message. He didn’t understand what it meant. But the Potentate did.
It didn’t matter anyway. I’d lost the will to fight.
I hardly noticed when the agent with the semiautomatic pressed against my back pulled my hands behind me and cuffed me. I looked at Kate again, tears in my own eyes this time. She looked tortured.
The agent who held me shoved me past her on the way to the door. As I passed, I whispered, my voice breaking, “You remember what you said to me last night?”
She managed another tiny nod.
“Then fight, Kate. Fight!
”
Prologue to The Phoenix Project
Final Installment of The Liberty Box Trilogy
Prologue: Will Anderson
I dropped to my knees, a pair of wire cutters in my hands, and went to work. Most of the wires were thick, black, and very well insulated, so it took the combined strength of both of my hands to clamp down. At the first repeater in Crystal City, I’d been careful to find just the critical wire that would disable its ability to amplify the control center signaling to the nearby district of the Republic. I’d even frayed the edges of the wires a little bit and put the corpse of a dead rat beside them, to make it look like it hadn’t been an act of sabotage.
But then I’d seen the broadcast.
Beckenshire bombed into oblivion. And along with it, all the rest of the refugees.
Including Kate.
The last time I’d seen her, she’d been sleeping under moth-eaten blankets on the concrete not ten yards away from me. I’d only half glanced back at her as we crept off into the forest, not knowing it would be the last time I’d see her alive.
Now in Pensington, I wasn’t careful anymore. I cut every wire I saw, and didn’t bother making it look like an accident. Snapping through wires acted as a surrogate for snapping through necks, which is what I really wanted to do right now.
I’d kill Stone for betraying us all, if he wasn’t already dead. If I could bomb the palace and take down the Potentate and the entire Tribunal in one fell swoop in retribution for what they’d done, I would—but that would be too good for them, I thought. I’d much rather snap Ben Voltolini in half with my bare hands, if I could ever get close enough.
Since I couldn’t, though, I’d settle for starting a revolution. The more people we could wake up at once, the better. The twenty-seven control centers across the Republic were of course too heavily guarded themselves, but we now had a map of all eighty-one repeaters, thanks to our successful mission in Friedrichsburg.
The problem was, there were now only three of us left to destroy those eighty-one repeaters.
