Abandon
Page 22
“She’s smart,” Thane said. “She’ll have her moles back up and running in no time.”
I consented and turned my board north. Director Kingston held no soft spot for the Resistance—in fact he was as ruthless as they came. Darke would never expect me to find refuge in Northepointe—which was exactly why I’d chosen it as our lay-low city.
That, and because of its location. See, Northepointe was way across the country from Freedom, and the flight would take two days. I needed time to sort through what steps to take next, and if Laurel could really get her underground message system running as fast as Thane claimed, I could operate the Resistance from Northepointe.
I’d just passed the last building in Castledale when Vi screamed. “Saffediene!”
I spun around as Vi streaked away from the group and disappeared.
I swore, Thane swore, and we both took off in the direction she’d gone.
I used Vi’s high emotion to track her. She was crouched next to Saffediene’s still form. Vi’s hands fluttered over Saffediene’s chest. When I landed next to her, she looked at me with wild eyes. “She needs help,” Vi said.
Saffediene wasn’t bleeding. No, her wounds were worse than that: techtricity burns. The flesh on her ankles oozed blood, and black patterns ran the length of her arms, legs, and torso. Her muscles twitched, her eyes blinked, but she didn’t move. I wasn’t sure how she’d survived.
Thane rummaged through his pack, producing meds and bandages. I did as he instructed, and we had Saffediene tethered to Thane’s board in under five minutes. He rode on Vi’s, and she stepped onto mine. We made a slow return to the group.
Finding Saffediene cast a somber mood on us, and we flew toward Northepointe in twos and threes, speaking only when necessary.
* * *
Mercifully, the sun stayed out all day, and we used the solar charge in our hoverboards. I hooked into a charge pack at night, and used the sunshine to recharge my board and the spare pack on the second day. By the time we saw the city limits of Northepointe, we were all slouched on our boards.
I flew sitting down, with Vi in front of me, her back pressed against my chest. We hadn’t spoken much, instead allowing a measure of peace to exist between us during the brief respite from Resistance efforts.
“We’re here,” I said, so everyone could hear me. Then I repeated it softly so only Vi could.
Darkness—and the early April chill of the far north—would blanket the land in only an hour. We touched down, taking cover in a shallow ravine two miles outside of Northepointe. I sat on the shore keeping watch while everyone else used the food-generating cube to order dinner.
Vi brought me a bowl of steaming soup and settled next to me. I’d swallowed the last mouthful of broth when a light on the outskirts of Northepointe flashed three times.
Three lights asked a question: Are you there?
Two flashes in response meant yes. And of course if I wasn’t here, I wouldn’t be able to signal, would I?
Shrimp, my contact in Northepointe, flashed every night on the hour from nine to midnight.
“Two flashes will let them know we’re here,” I instructed Vi. “Can you produce them? Two seconds apart, please.”
She fired off the appropriate response, and we settled in to wait for our escort into the city. Ten minutes later a squad of officers landed in front of us.
“You must be Jag Barque,” one of them said. “So Shrimp was telling the truth.” He glanced at his companions. “Guess we shouldn’t have killed him.”
Zenn
46. “I sent them,” I said for the fourth time. General Darke sat in his office, his hands folded neatly in front of him on the desk. “You were with me when I sent them.”
He nodded. “I was. I’m wondering why they haven’t returned.”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe the Resistance is not as dead as we’d like to believe.”
“Clearly,” I said. “Four of our Rises are in ruins, and we have no way to repair them. If we let our people out of their homes they’ll know we have no idea what we’re doing. And they’ll think they can do a better job than we can.”
General Darke frowned, the only indication that he knew my statement was true.
“Harvest is Insider friendly,” I continued, “so I can’t go there. Arrow Falls doesn’t have much in the way of tech. Grande—”
“They’ll have recording equipment,” General Darke said. “Perhaps you should take today to travel and get some transmissions made.”
“I don’t have any more time to waste,” I agreed.
“I am going back to Castledale,” the General said. “I will take a task force of Enforcement Officers with me. We’ll return with the tech required to restore the barrier.”
His condescending tone grated on my nerves. I nodded because I didn’t trust myself to speak.
“It’s settled, then,” he said.
“We’ll meet again tomorrow morning.”
“Evening,” General Darke clarified. “My flight is twice as long as yours.”
“Until tomorrow evening.” I left his office and went directly to my hoverboard.
The flight to Arrow Falls felt twice as lonely as it once had. Before, I’d always had a companion, someone to talk to, even if I didn’t want to talk. Before, I’d had Saffediene.
It hurt to think about her, a lot like it pained me to think about Vi. I wondered how long it would take before I became as cold and heartless as the General.
As I flew over the mass graves, I thought of Marco. Maybe I didn’t need to be more emotionally detached.
Maybe I was already more like Jag Barque than I’d thought.
* * *
The Director of Arrow Falls, a tall, thin man with gray hair, met me on the roof of their tallest building. He wore his traditional robes the color of deep, rich coffee. I wore what I’d been wearing for the past six days—a pair of jeans and a jacket over a long-sleeved, standard-issue T-shirt.
“Director Bower,” the Director said, and his words carried a weight I had not been expecting. I was a Director now. Director Bower.
“The tech the General requested is being prepared for you now,” he continued. “Won’t you have lunch before you begin your recordings?” He swept his hand toward an open door that I did not feel like entering. I wondered what repercussions I might suffer if I declined. I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to lose any of my newfound authority.
“Thank you, Director Underson.” I ducked into the darkness and took my first steps down a stairwell leading into the depths of the building.
After many flights downward, we emerged into a brightly lit room where technicians scurried from task to task. Some cast nervous glances at me, while others focused on their work as if their lives depended on it. It did, because I had asked them to produce the technology I needed, and I could take their lives if they did not deliver. A balloon grew inside my chest, filled with importance and pride. I tried to stop the swelling inside, feeling simultaneously ashamed and arrogant.
Director Underson glided through the room, and the technicians parted for him. Their counters seemed overfilled and underpolished, but I didn’t say anything. While tech wasn’t the crux of Arrow Falls’s worth, they clearly had a lot of supplies. I had thought their focus was improving soil quality.
“We also provide help when needed,” Director Underson said, clearly reading my thoughts. “Van Hightower and I were close, personal friends. His death saddens me.”
In a world where emotions are rarely shown, the Director’s words surprised me. He didn’t appear sad, and I didn’t have an empathic talent to tell if he genuinely felt sad or not. Emotion belies weakness, I thought, but didn’t vocalize anything to Director Underson.
He led me to a bank of traveling rings. “Blue for ascent, green for descent,” he explained. “We’re going to the second floor, where I’ve prepared my private dining room for lunch. You can use my study to complete your recordings.”
I waited while Director Underson stepped into a green ring and disintegrated before my eyes. After a moment, I then stepped into the same ring.
My particles reassembled in a faux-wood-paneled room where a glass table had been set for five. The drapes were drawn; the only light emanated from yellow tech fixtures along the far wall. The room felt narrow and closed off, which added to my I’m-trapped feelings.
Director Underson selected a seat at the head of the table. I sat on his immediate right, wondering if it was proper to ask who would be joining us.
Before I could, one of the doors opened at the opposite end of the room. Three stern men at least twice my age entered. Each of them wore their Thinker robes, and the dark brown seemed to suck more light from the room.
I stood to greet them, lowering my chin before I realized that I held the same rank now.
“Director Bower, do sit down. It’ll take some getting used to, won’t it?” Director Underson asked, not unkindly and with a small smile. That smile vanished as he nodded to our lunch companions.
“Directors Marsh, Hideawae, and Long,” he said, indicating each man with a wave of his hand. The men took the remaining chairs, with Director Marsh next to me. “They are my board of advisers here in Arrow Falls. I’m sure Freedom has a similar council of Thinkers.”
Before I could answer, Director Underson continued. “Directors, this is Zenn Bower, the new Director of Freedom.”
Director Long crossed his arms while the other Directors welcomed me.
“Doesn’t Freedom employ a plethora of Thinkers?” Director Long leaned back in his chair.
“Oh, yes.” I kept my eyes locked onto his. Looking to Underson for guidance would only make me appear weak. Not a trait I wanted to exhibit. “One for each of our Rises, and there are about twenty of those.”
Director Long looked at the Director next to him, but it looked like he was rolling his eyes at me.
“Have you lived in Freedom, Director Long?” I asked.
Director Underson dropped his fork and someone gasped. No one was more shocked than me. I didn’t even know where the question had come from.
Director Long narrowed his eyes at me. “Stay out of my head.”
“I didn’t—I mean—I can’t read minds.” Tension buzzed along the surface of my skin, making my hair stand on end. Clarity of thought accompanied the sensation, and I leaned forward. “But I think you lived there. Maybe got passed over for a promotion. That’s why you dislike me.”
A stretch of silence punctuated my statement. I thought about mentioning General Darke and how he’d appointed me as Freedom’s Director, but I stayed quiet.
“There, there.” Director Underson chuckled, finally breaking the moment. “Director Long is exactly where he needs to be.”
Before either of us could argue, servants entered the dining room laden with platters of food.
* * *
After lunch I settled in Director Underson’s study, alone. I’d asked him who recorded the transmissions for Arrow Falls, and he’d said, “Director Long is the only voice talent we have here.”
I’d smiled tightly and entered his study. No way was I asking Director Long for help.
My biggest challenge remained: My voice wasn’t exactly the strongest one out there. It might be enough to keep a few people brainwashed for a few days, but it was nowhere near powerful enough to keep millions from realizing that their government had fallen.
Not only that, many were already awake. I certainly didn’t have the level of voice power I needed to regain control and keep them compliant.
My hands shook as I linked the last wire to the transmitter. The green light came on, indicating that my equipment was recording.
I cleared my throat, took a deep breath, and began. “Your Director, Mr. Zenn Bower, is a trusted leader. He will guide you through the dark and difficult days ahead . . . .”
Jag
47. I thought to Vi, Get Thane!
“Stand down. Deactivate any weapons you have,” I said out loud. My voice came out coated with pure authority. I knew I had enough control to talk down these six officers, but I needed Thane for backup. I wished Gunner was awake and healthy. His voice would be invaluable right about now.
Vi stumbled away, and when none of the officers made to stop her, I smiled.
When none of them deactivated their weapons, the smile slid off my face. “Toss those tasers over here,” I said.
The lead officer grinned. I ducked and scrambled backward as taser fire arced over my head. I yelled something unintelligible, hoping my people would scatter.
I’d taken two steps when someone grabbed a fistful of my hair. “You can’t get away so easily, Jag Barque,” the officer said. “We know all your tricks.”
I thrashed and kicked and managed to free myself. I sucked at the air as I ran toward my team, not bothering to look behind me to see what the officers would do next.
“Jag!” Thane called and I veered toward his voice. Good thing, too, because a tethering strand landed where I had been a moment before. I would’ve been caught, shocked, and stuffed back into a hole.
My tension doubled at the thought of the capsule. I ducked behind an outcropping of bushes where I found Thane and the rest of our team. “Officers from Northepointe,” I gasped. “My voice didn’t work.”
Thane responded by tossing a tech grenade over the bushy barrier. It sparked, then exploded, causing us to cover our heads with our hands. When the techenergy subsided, I peered around the bush.
Three guards had taken a direct hit. The other three advanced slowly, their weapons drawn. “Vi, can you get inside their heads?” I asked.
“No, Jag,” she said. “I can’t.”
She could, but I knew what she meant. She wouldn’t control people again, because she didn’t know how far she’d go.
“Thane?”
He stared right at me, unblinking, for what felt like a long time. Finally he said, “I’ve deactivated their sound cancelers. Our voices will work now.”
I leapt from behind the bush. “Deactivate your weapons. Kick those tasers over here.” Almost as one person, three feet kicked over three now-deactivated tasers.
“Take off your clothes,” I commanded them. The officers wore black pants over black books. Black vests over black jackets. I voice-ordered the guards until their boots were on our feet, and their jackets were warming our shoulders. I made them deposit their backpacks and their hoverboards at my feet before sending them back to Northepointe in their underwear.
Their feet might need medical attention, but my idea was to be many miles away before anyone in Northepointe knew why.
“Watch them,” I instructed Thane. I called to my Resistance members. “Northepointe is out. We fly in five.” I shouldered one of the officers’ packs and tucked a fully charged taser into my back pocket.
Thane got a new weapon and his hoverboard back. He carefully loaded a still-unconscious Saffediene onto one of the confiscated boards and tethered it to his. With all the supplies taken and rationed among us, I surveyed my team.
Sure, we were skinny. No, we did not know where or when we’d be able to sleep again. But dammit, we were still alive.
The Resistance is still alive.
I ran through a list of Insider-friendly cities, dismissing them all. Cedar Hills, Lakehead, Harvest—Darke would be monitoring each of them.
Laurel had gone to Grande; maybe we should too. Or maybe farther south, maybe down to Rancho Port, the southernmost city in the Union.
I hadn’t been to Rancho Port since my capture. Could I face going back?
Yes.
Starr’s voice in my head didn’t surprise me. Her confidence in my ability to overcome my haunted history with Rancho Port did.
“Where to, boss?” Starr wasn’t really asking, because she already knew.
“Rancho Port.”
* * *
We flew straight south, combing back through the abandoned city of Castledale. From there, I sent Trek, Starr, and Saffediene to Grande to coordinate with Laurel. Trek could find out what had been going on in Freedom, and Saffediene could get the medical attention she needed. The rest of us would go farther south and send word when we arrived in Rancho Port.
I flew with the twenty members of the Resistance until I thought I’d never want to ride a hoverboard again. We finally reached the wide waters that lapped at the edge of our country. The Thinkers routinely cited the shrinking land masses as one of the reasons They needed to maintain control. Even I’d seen the maps showing how far out the land used to jut into the ocean. I knew we needed to preserve our natural resources, I just didn’t think mind control was the way to do it.
We stopped at the water’s edge, the heat of the day at full height. We’d been on hoverboards for two whole nights and two whole days, and I knew I’d have a mutiny on my hands if we didn’t rest.
“We’ll be here until morning,” I said. “Make camp, generate something to eat, relax.” I waited until everyone had set to work, then I stripped to my underwear and ran into the dark waves.
Water crashed over me, dragging me first one way and then carrying me another. I broke the surface, gasping and smiling. I swam out to sea, until the muscles in my arms and legs burned and I didn’t think I could kick one more time.
I flipped over on my back and let the ocean waves return me to shore. In the water, I couldn’t hear anyone talking. I didn’t have to listen to Raine squabble with River over when to use the food-generating cube. I didn’t have to listen to Thane whisper to Vi or see them look at me as if I might crack.
I let the dull roar of the water fill my ears, my soul, with music. I gave up my anxiety about going back to Rancho Port.
I hadn’t told anyone about my last moments in Rancho Port, and I hadn’t dreamt about them, so even Vi didn’t know. As I drifted with the ocean breeze, I allowed myself to relive how I escaped.