by C. A. Gray
Nick, too grief-stricken to see reason after the broadcast, had insisted on going back to Beckenshire to find Molly, even though there was no way anybody had survived that blast. Jacob and Roger volunteered to go with him because it was clear he was out of his mind and needed someone to keep him from doing anything rash. And that damn Jackson had disappeared as soon as we arrived in Friedrichsburg—none of us had a clue what he was doing or why. We’d never see him again now.
We really could have used his help, too. What a bastard. Maybe I’d snap his neck too, if I ever got the chance.
“Think you got ‘em all,” said Alec, bemused. He stood over me with his arms crossed over his chest. I’d almost forgotten his presence until he spoke, only then realizing I’d cut every wire in the building and left nothing for him to do but stand there and watch.
I looked up at him, wiping the sweat from my brow, and gave him a curt nod. This little shoebox of a building was barely large enough to house the repeater itself—no windows, no ventilation whatsoever.
“Fine. Let’s hit the next one,” I said.
Jean waited for us outside, beside the idling car. Alec had hot-wired it like a boss—apparently when he and Kate’s former roommate Maggie had been on the run, he’d acquired a lot of subversive skills like that.
I climbed in the shotgun seat while Jean took the back and Alec drove. But we hadn’t gotten a mile down the road toward the next repeater when we came to an intersection with a blank silver screen in the middle of a town square. It crackled and lit up. My heart stopped.
It was Kate.
Jean gasped and Alec swore, but I could do nothing but stare at her. She looked cleaner than I’d seen her since before the caves, but for the first few seconds of air time, she looked frozen, and just stared.
My mind raced for possible explanations. Is she a hostage? Where is she? Am I dreaming?
But at last she smiled, as if she’d won some sort of internal battle with herself. “Hi, friends. I know you’ve been told a lot of things about me since I’ve been gone, most recently that I’m a terrorist and that I am your enemy. I imagine that for a lot of you, that’s been very confusing. You know in your hearts that I am devoted to you. I’m your Voice of Truth, the face you’ve come to trust. I want to honor that trust today, by telling you what I know is true.”
Alec groaned, and I felt like I’d been kicked in the gut.
This was the broadcast. The one she’d been talking about from the beginning. The one I told her not to do because she’d need me there to put her on the air, and she’d need me there to protect her, and I wouldn’t go because I couldn’t be in two places at once.
She went anyway. Suddenly I remembered when I’d glanced back at her just before we’d left Beckenshire for Friedrichsburg, I’d noticed that Kate looked unnaturally still. When she slept normally, she didn’t snore, but her breathing was rhythmic and loud. I’d had a brief suspicion then that she wasn’t actually sleeping, but thought nothing of it, having no idea why she’d fake it…
She’d followed us into Friedrichsburg. She must’ve gone to find Charlie after all…
Jackson. He knew she’d followed us, and he went after her. Of course he would. She had to have someone to protect her, and since I wouldn’t do it, the damn white knight rode off to her rescue instead. He was probably in the studio with her right now.
Kate was saying, “When I began to realize all of this, my fiancé at the time, Will Anderson, started to help me with my investigations.” I started at my name, and despite everything, it stung to hear her say, my fiancé at the time. “He was was a computer hacker, and he began to uncover information that confirmed and fleshed out my own memories and realizations.”
She thinks I’m dead too, I realized. And why wouldn’t she? She knew we’d gone to Friedrichsburg, but for all she knew, we went right back to Beckenshire afterwards. We might’ve been there when the bombs dropped.
“New Estonia, if you are listening,” Kate said, “we need your help. You are next. As we speak, Ben Voltolini is building control centers on your own soil, disguising them as benign construction projects of which you would take little notice.”
Jean whooped out loud, and in the rearview mirror I saw her pump her fist in the air. “Go Kate! Yes!”
But there was something off about Kate. She had a certain wild, frantic look in her eyes, and beads of sweat dotted her forehead. Maybe it was just the adrenaline of a forbidden broadcast, but I didn’t think so. It almost looked as if she were getting sick.
She went on, “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—”
The screen cut out suddenly, replaced by the face of Ben Voltolini. It took me a minute to register what had happened. He wore a sympathetic expression which made him even more imminently despicable than outright malice might have done.
“Miss Brandeis,” he cooed. “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.”
My intestines felt like they’d been tied in knots. I understood Kate’s fevered expression now. Of course she hadn’t been using the signal disruptors during the broadcast: she couldn’t have done.
The control center signals were getting to her again.
The Potentate 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?”
They’ve re-targeted her. She’s being brainwashed all over again.
The Potentate began to go on and on about Jackson: how he’d captured her, he was the enemy, he was using her against the Republic. He’d killed members of the Tribunal yesterday.
He had? Somehow we must’ve missed that broadcast.
“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,” Voltolini said, apparently directly to Kate now. “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. 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.
We had the right of way, but we just sat in the idling car. All of us stared at the now-blank silver screen and did not speak.
“Boy,” said Alec at last. “He wants Jackson bad.”
Alec’s words woke me up a little. “We have to find her,” I said, and pointed at the screen. “We have to find out where that broadcast came from. We have to find her before the agents do!”
“Dude,” said Alec flatly. “No way we’d get there before the agents. Ten to one they’re already there.”
“Plus there are only three of us to break the remaining seventy-nine repeaters—” Jean began.
I cut her off. “I have to find her!”
Alec shook his head at me in disgust. “No way, man. We already lost Nick to a pointless mission to find a dead woman. You’re not going the same way.”
I almost punched him in the face. But instead I said something that I knew would hurt almost as much. I pointed at the screen and said, “If that had been Maggie, would you hesitate?”
Now Alec looked like he might hit me.
After a long pause, Jean said in a tentative voice, “We can find her location in the control center files. I’m sure
she’ll be long gone from the broadcasting studio by the time we get there, but it doesn’t look like the Potentate intends to kill her. Not yet. We can find out where they’ve taken her that way. And… maybe break a few more repeaters on the way?”
“Perfect. Two against one,” I told Alec through gritted teeth. “Get me to a net screen. Now.”
Read The Phoenix Project Now
Letter to Reader
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for reading! I hope that you enjoyed “The Eden Conspiracy.” My favorite part of writing is the creation of my world, and the “ah-ha!” moments along the way. My favorite “ah-ha!” moment in this story was giving Ben Voltolini the technology to manipulate Kate’s thoughts directly, rendering her susceptible once again to the government’s lies. She’s such a valuable weapon to whichever side has her… but it’s so much more elegant for Voltolini to recapture her mind, rather than manipulate her with force. It’s exactly the sort of thing he would do.
If there’s an underlying theme to the story, it is this hard-learned lesson from my own life: your thoughts and your beliefs influence your actions; your actions form your habits, and your habits shape your life. As Jackson would say, just make sure that what you’re thinking and believing is both true and beneficial to you!
I’d love any feedback you have about this story, the characters, and the themes—good or bad! Feedback is what helps me to improve. Please email me at [email protected] or visit me at www.authorcagray.com.
Finally, if you enjoyed this story, I would love it if you would leave me a review on your favorite online retailer, and on Goodreads!
Thank you again for reading my work!
All the best,
C.A. Gray
Also by C.A. Gray:
Intangible: Piercing the Veil, Book 1
Invincible: Piercing the Veil, Book 2
Impossible: Piercing the Veil, Book 3
The Liberty Box
Acknowledgements
To my beta readers/editors, Cyndi Deville (my awesome mom) and Jim Strawn: couldn’t do this without you. Mom picks out logical inconsistencies in the plot and coaches me along the way with more exciting plot twists and turns. She’s much more creative than I am. Jim finds obscure facts and fills in the science and history. More than once I’ve messaged Jim in the process of writing, to ask, “Hey, I want this to happen but I’m not sure how to make it believable. What do you suggest?” And in true MacGyver fashion, he comes up with something perfect, using only a paperclip and a stick of gum (or whatever). Thank you both!
To my husband, Frank Baden, thank you for your unwavering support in my writing efforts, for your inspired cover art vision, and also for your history consultations to make sure my characters’ motivations are realistic and grounded!
To my marketing manager, Caitlin Bauer: you are so good at what you do. You’re efficient, logical, and consistent with your branding approaches… all I have to do is bring a vision to you, and you make it happen. Thank you so much!
To my cover artist, Nathalia Suellen—Your work is amazing!
And finally… thank you Lord for the schedule that enables me to pursue my dreams even while keeping my “day job” (which is pretty demanding in itself). Thanks for the blessings of all these people to help me continue to write, and for the support of family and friends.
About the Author
C.A. Gray is a Naturopathic Medical Doctor (NMD), with a primary care practice in Tucson, Arizona. She has always been captivated by the power of a good story, fictional or otherwise, which is probably why she loves holistic medicine: a patient’s physical health is invariably intertwined with his or her life story, and she believes that the one can only be understood in context with the other. She is blessed with exceptionally supportive family and friends, and thanks God for them every single day!
