The Last Revolution

by Carpenter, R. T.

  Alden rotated around as he drew up to his full height, kicking the hostage guard so hard that he went sailing through the air and into one of the other guards. In the same swift motion Alden used the momentum to land a debilitating blow into the third guard’s chest, cracking several ribs and sending him to the ground in a heap. The final guard was leveling his weapon, but it was like he was moving in slow motion compared to the advanced reflexes Alden had been given through the Transcendence program.

  Alden grabbed the barrel of the gun and pushed it out of the way. In the same motion, he came in with his other hand and nailed the guard in the throat. He kicked him in the back of the knees, dropped a shoulder and flung him several feet away onto the soaking wet concrete. To his left, Alden saw the first guard reaching for his side arm and with a swift kick he too was left unconscious. The entire fight was over in seconds.

  Rain poured down around Alden as he stared at the guards lying motionless around him, Father McKinley resting in a pool of his own blood. The knife sat glinting in the light. The gunfire had died off and every alarm on the Island was blaring. His problems had only magnified; he would never be able to explain this situation in time. It was now or never.

  Alden stared at the school, would he ever see it again? Only time would tell, but he would not let that reactor fall into the wrong hands, nor would he let Father McKinley’s murder go unpunished. Turning back to the woods he sprinted as fast as he could towards the airfield.

  Alden pushed through the last set of branches and emerged at the far end of the landing strip. His clothes were tattered and soaking wet. The sheets of rain made it nearly impossible to see. There! He made out a shadow running amongst the rows of perfectly lined fighter jets. He needed to take this person alive, but there was a very real possibility he’d tear him apart with his bare hands.

  Sprinting across the open space he arrived at the first row and pressed himself against one of the fighters. Faint beams of light could be seen from the depths of the jungle. It was impossible to tell if it was the invaders or Island guards, but at the moment it didn’t matter. Alden moved further into the airfield as he searched high and low for any clues. How long had he been holding Father McKinley’s body? How long had he taken to get through the jungle? Straining his hearing, he searched for anything that would give the killer away. Rain battered the metal crafts around him, creating a deafening silence. Distant sirens and the rhythmic beat of his heart were the only other sounds that punctuated the storm. He was alone.

  Alden dropped to his knees and searched for any sign of movement. Popping up and moving around the nose of a jet, he turned and searched for something, anything. Was he being watched? On the other side of the jet he was shocked to see a cavity amongst the line of fighters nearest the runway. He grabbed a few pieces of dirt and moved the gravel around between his fingers. Barely any moisture, the killer had taken one of the jets. There was still time, time enough to catch them if he hurried. Alden weaved through the line and found his fighter; he pushed a button on his wrist deck, but nothing happened.

  The sound of dogs barking punctuated the downpour. They were getting closer. What is wrong with this thing? Glancing down he remembered the new deck; none of his passkeys or authentication information had been transferred over. He latched on to the thin metal stairs and pulled himself up to the canopy, punched in his code, and shoved the cockpit window open. He strapped in and then flew through the pre-flight checklist as fast as he could. From his vantage point he could see dozens of soldiers emerging from the jungle.

  He slid the cockpit window shut, locked it and then fired up the engines. Pulling the stick back he moved out of the line of jets and on to the runway. Small arms fire suddenly erupted around him and dozens of violent tremors could be felt as the bullets ricocheted off the carbon fiber hull. He was starting out halfway down the airfield, there wasn’t enough space for him to launch, but if the engine was hit he wouldn’t live long enough to feel the H3 cell rupture.

  It was now or never. Alden pulled the stick the rest of the way back and the engine flared to life. His eyes grew heavy as they pressed into the back of his head and the jet accelerated down the runway. Everything melted away until the only thing he could see was the edge of the runway and the cliff that dropped off into the abyss. It had terrified him at first, but now it served as a gateway between the physical world and the limitless one that waited.

  The craft was just lifting off the ground when he ran out of runway and flew off the edge. Although he had been trained for these kinds of events, his heart was still beating at full speed and now seemed securely lodged in his throat. He was out over the ocean but falling fast. Holding his breath Alden put everything he had into the controls and pulled back as hard as he could. Finally, the nose picked up, and the ocean, runway and Island disappeared.

  He was alive. It was the most exhilarating feeling in the world, freedom. He banked the fighter to the right and headed west towards land. Their school sat on a lonely island in the middle of the Pacific. It was several hundred kilometers to the shores of the Sino-Russian Federation, but tens of thousands of kilometers to the shores of the Alliance. The killer had to have gone to the SRF; not only was it the closest but they also had one of the strongest black markets on Earth.

  Alden switched to night vision and a pixilated green hue worked its way across the cockpit and filled the screen with all the gauges he needed. The moment his sensors and control panel came online, every alarm possible went off. He had flown straight at the hurricane. He hadn’t been able to see anything until the night vision was activated, but now he could see the massive water funnel straight ahead. It was as if the mighty Poseidon had come to destroy the Island and everyone on it. Alden whipped the craft to the right and turned into a tight barrel roll to avoid being torn apart. Yellow tracers ripped through the night around him.

  Two hostile dots appeared on the radar, along with the indication of incoming fire. The distinctive sound was nearly lost amidst every other catastrophic alarm going off. Alden turned off the alarms, tightened his grip on the controls, and settled back into the seat. They would not kill him; this was where he belonged. Flipping the plane into a tight corkscrew, he did everything he could to avoid the hail of fire.

  His options were limited, but there had to be a way out. The gravity-defying wall of water and chaos surged in every direction. If he veered off course by even a few meters the jet would be torn to shreds. He pulled a hard right to avoid the second round of incoming fire and then pressed a button to deploy the solar flares. He needed to distract the targeting computers in order to give himself some breathing room.

  There were several loud thuds and his fighter shook violently before taking a steep drop. His heart leaped into his throat, he’d made the wrong choice. The rear camera showed hydraulic fluid gushing out of the wing. Alden squeezed the controls and then banked left towards the eye of the hurricane. He had to chance moving in closer; one more hit and he’d be done.

  The wind was strong and the controls shook mercilessly in his hands. It took every ounce of his energy to keep from being sucked in. The Island flashed through his mind. If he ejected out here and somehow survived the hurricane, there was no way he’d live long enough to be found. If they even knew—or cared—where to look for him. As far they knew, he was the murderer; possibly the one that took the reactor. The wall was coming closer, the end was near. The winds were slowly sucking him in despite his attempts to pull away.

  Alden jammed the controls back into his gut and put every ounce of muscle he had into holding them there. Nothing happened for several moments. His arms started to shake, and he screamed out in anger. The craft was slowing turning over until he was completely inverted. The faintest hints of the ocean were visible above him. At that moment the nose edged to the right and began to break free. He leveled out. The jets that had been pursuing him were now directly in front.

  He brought the craft in behind the lead wingman. There wasn’t enough time
to secure a lock so, adjusting for the winds, Alden pressed the trigger. The rocket fired off-course and was immediately sucked into the vortex, disappearing from sight. A quick flash deep inside the storm followed.

  The second rocket flew as straight as possible and slammed into the fighter’s wing. The jet spiraled out of control. The entire thing plummeted towards Earth as it left a thick smoke trail in its wake.

  “Eject! Eject!” Alden yelled.

  He tried to follow the trail of descent, but the smoldering craft disappeared into the clouds. Fidgeting in his seat, Alden searched for the other fighter. That wouldn’t happen to him. Unfortunately his moment of distraction had cost him the upper hand and now he was flying blind.

  The alarms went off once more. The other jet had used the confusion to pull in behind him and lock in his weapons. A tiny dot sped out from enemy indicator on the radar screen, incoming missile! Alden pushed the controls forward and to the left, evasive maneuvers. It streaked under his fighter and exploded a moment later. He blew through the fiery cloud. Moisture accumulated on his brow. That had been close, too close.

  They had finally moved beyond the inner hurricane and the horizon was suddenly taking shape. In the distance he could see land! He was almost there. Tracer bullets whizzed past in all directions. This guy just wouldn’t give up!

  He pulled into aloop but the enemy jet followed course. The other pilot wouldn’t be shaken so easily. Alden could feel the rhythm of the craft, blood and adrenaline surged through his veins. This was what he lived for. The fear and paralysis from earlier melted away and the joy of the moment took over. He gunned the controls and was pressed back into the seat as it accelerated.

  Now for the slip. He pressed to the right and flipped on the air brakes. It took all his strength to keep his face from slamming into the dash. To his disappointment, the other fighter followed suit and remained just behind him. Alden was jarred forward once more as a second round made contact. It sent bone-crushing vibrations through the cockpit. Come on, hold together just a little longer. Distant peaks came into view. The only way he’d be able to shake this guy would be through the cavernous valleys ahead.

  The fuel gauge made Alden’s stomach plummet. He was almost out. Several small islands appeared beneath him before he finally reached land. Safety, Alden thought, even as bullets continued to fly past. He was halfway over the pass when the proximity alarm went off for the last time, incoming missile. His jet was struggling, there was no way he could shake itagain. This was it. Alden pushed the controls forward and then slammed the ejection button. A fierce explosion sent him spiraling up into the air.

  The frozen wind lashed at his face. Sky, mountains and snow flew through his vision in rapid succession. He was tumbling without control or direction. It was impossible to tell which way he was supposed to be going or how far he’d already fallen. Had to give the other fighter time to fly by and think he’d been killed, but he didn’t want to run out of room to safely deploy. Trying to calm his heart, Alden counted to three and then pressed the button.

  The chute deployed but the mountainous landscape grew at an alarming rate. He couldn’t tell if it was slowing his descent, but if it didn’t do something soon, it would all be over. The trees that had once appeared as small specks rapidly expanded to full size. Aiming for the tallest one, he crashed down through the top and tumbled through the branches. The parachute ripped free and he fell through the last bit of foliage before plummeting fifteen meters to the ground. He threw his hands out to protect his face and then darkness.

  “You are not special. You are not unique. You will follow any order that is given to you by a superior.” Alden was a small child again, lying awake on a small cot. It was a large room and every centimeter of floor space was covered with sleeping children. The loudspeaker quietly played the same message over and over again. It wasn’t loud enough to distract from sleep but it was always there.

  Quiet sniffling came from the bed next to his. It wasn’t uncommon for some of the smaller kids to cry themselves to sleep. No one ever came to console them, but if they raised enough of a ruckus they were punished. Alden could still feel the bruises on his arms from where they’d been slapped during the day.

  Peeking from under his covers he looked to see if any of the guards were around. They’d do regular checks during the night to make sure that no one had gotten out. There it was again, the muffled sniffling. Alden pushed the covers aside, slipped out from underneath his bunk. The concrete floor froze his toes, but he still tiptoed over to the other cot.

  He poked the soft lump in the bed. It quivered but didn’t turn over to look at him.

  “You okay?” Alden whispered.

  It just shook its head but didn’t move otherwise.

  “What’s the problem? If you keep doing that they’ll punish you.”

  The boy rolled over to look at him. He had blond hair and was about the same age as Alden. “I miss my mom,” he mumbled.

  Alden nodded. He’d never known his parents. Some of the other kids had been handed over by their family, or come here from orphanages, but Alden had just always been here. He didn’t even know if he had parents.

  “You’ll be okay. I’m sure they’ll let your mom visit.”

  The boy shook his head. “No. I asked if I could go home today and one of the guards said I’d never leave this place and I’d never see my parents again.”

  “Oh. Well are you hungry?” The boy nodded. “Well, come sit here with me then,” Alden said.

  The boy climbed out of his cot and the two of them sat up against their beds. Alden pulled a small piece of jerky out from underneath his pillow. “I took this from the cafeteria today. I’m not hungry. You have it.” Alden handed it over. “My name is Alden.”

  The boy took the jerky and began nibbling on it. He looked up and smiled. “I’m Gabriel.”

  “Maybe we have to do what they say now, but eventually we’ll be grown-ups and they won’t be able to stop us from leaving.”

  “Where are your parents at?”

  Alden shrugged. “I don’t think I have parents. Do you want to be friends?”

  The boy nodded and whispered, “Yes.”

  They were quiet for several moments before Gabriel spoke again. “I-I don’t have any family now and you’re the nicest anyone has been to me. If you look out for me, I’ll look out for you.”

  Alden shook his head in acceptance. “I’d like that.”

  Opening his eyes Alden realized he was facedown in the frozen dirt. His whole body ached. His dried blood was mixed in amidst the gravel around him. Alden crawled away from the impact site and towards the base of the nearest tree. He pushed himself into a sitting position. His leg was horribly bent out of shape. It didn’t take a surgeon to figure out it was broken.

  Reaching out, he grabbed a stick and put it in his mouth. He took hold of his leg, gave it a quick twist and snapped the broken bone back into place. He screamed through gritted teeth, the pain was nauseating. He put a hand out to stabilize himself. Alden spit the stick out and leaned back to catch his breath. The carbon fiber wrapped around his tibia would have activated during the fracture, and now that it was back in place it would seal up tight as concrete.

  He remembered how smooth the sheets had felt in his hospital bed. How he sank into the pillows and listened to Father McKinley assure him the surgery had been for the best—something called Transcendence. It was all so confusing. He knew that science was sinful, everyone on the Island did. Yet the Council had used it to modify his body, to make him something more than he was. He wouldn’t learn about the nano-carbon until much later, but the improvements to his senses—sight and sound—had been overwhelming at first. It had been compounded by the fact that he was now immoral, unclean.

  Ultimately Father McKinley was right, as usual. The enhancements had allowed him to become the best possible soldier. The modification to his eyes had permanently changed the pigment, turning them a vibrant blue color. At times it almost ap
peared as if they glowed. When he’d returned to the Island the students had mocked him mercilessly for the disaster of the Siberian mission and the wicked technology within his body. Ultimately they were all subjected to the same process; after that they just harassed him about Siberia.

  Suddenly a tree branch cracked in the distance. Alden froze and held his breath. Stop. Look. Listen. Years of training returned like a reflex. Where are you? Where do you need to be? How can you get there? The sun was out and streaks of light cut through the tree branches and illuminated the ground. Patches of snow dotted the forest floor.

  His leg looked fine visually but it would need to sit for a few hours before it would be ready to hold his weight. The more time he could give the nano-carbon molecules to fuse the broken ends of the bone together, the better. But when it was ready to hold his weight where would he go? The Island was no longer an option. Council headquarters were a possibility but if Vasentus was dead then it would be just as dangerous as the Island. Punishment would be swift and absolute if things didn’t go well.

  Alden’s wrist deck blinked. He looked down at the device with a quizzical look and remembered General Sokolov’s words, “It’ll be linked up with headquarters…” If they were reaching out to him, did that mean they knew he was innocent? With some difficulty Alden lifted his supporting hand off the ground and pressed the button. It simply read, are you alive?

  Well, no worse for the wear. Alden thought for a moment but decided it was impossible to make an informed decision without more information. Pressing on the holographic keys he responded, please identify.

  After a few moments the deck lit up again, no. dangerous. council compromised.

  Alden let out a sigh and settled back against the frozen tree trunk. They were compromised. How high up had the treachery gone? Too many questions, not enough answers. Before Alden had the chance to formulate a response another message arrived, I am a friend. 27 Island casualties. Fusion reactor stolen.