The Goliath Code (The Alpha Omega Trilogy)

by Suzanne Leonhard

  The streets were empty that morning, except for a few soldiers on patrol. A rumor had been spreading that everyone between the ages of seventeen and twenty-one were about to be inducted into the Europa Guard. Nobody felt like celebrating.

  David and I were still sixteen, as were Ben and Milly, but both Jude and Tim had turned eighteen the month before. I couldn’t imagine a day without them, and Milly was a wreck over the possibility of losing them both.

  Compared to the rest of the town, Pioneer Park was swarming with people—soldiers getting ready for the big event. As I walked past, I noticed several long tables being set up, as well as lights being strung around the gazebo. The park that used to host Memorial Day barbecues and Fourth of July picnics, was now littered with Europa’s blue and white flags snapping in the cool breeze. I heard the crackle of a microphone sound test and I knew the praetor would give another of his longwinded speeches. He wanted a party and the town would accommodate him out of sheer terror.

  I walked past Mrs. Gorski’s house. She sat on her porch, a thick shawl wrapped around her stooped shoulders, watching the preparations with sharp, watery eyes.

  “Good morning, Sera.” She pulled the shawl tighter.

  “Good morning,” I replied, adding, “Be careful today.”

  She nodded. “May the blessed white light protect us all.”

  I gave her a patient smile, then continued down the sidewalk toward my grandfather’s house. With its message of peace and promised deliverance, the White Lighter Society was fast becoming the religion of choice among the citizens. I had no use for it—or any other kind of hokey redemption plan meant to tranquilize the populace. We were prisoners in our own town and flicking flashlights on and off at each other wouldn’t solve a thing.

  I crossed the porch, walked through the front door, and entered chaos. George and his Europa goons were raiding our house again.

  “You can’t just show up here whenever you want and go through our stuff!” Ben shouted.

  Jude snatched a partially carved block of wood out of a curious soldier’s hand—he was making a gift for Milly. “You’re not taking that.”

  The soldier held out his hand. “Ze knife.”

  “It’s just a carving knife,” Jude argued.

  The soldier jammed his rifle into Jude’s ribs.

  Jude doubled over and gritted his teeth. He slipped the small knife from his back pocket and slapped it into the soldier’s palm. So much for Milly’s gift.

  In the kitchen, George knocked dishes from the cupboards while Milly watched, helpless, as they shattered at her feet. “If you’d just tell us what you’re looking for…,” she said, close to tears.

  George ignored her.

  David sat in a chair by the fireplace, a Scientific Journal in his lap. He sipped his cup of bark tea. “Just stand back and let them do their job,” he grumbled.

  “I’m surprised you’re not helpin’ ’em.” Tim lingered at my grandfather’s door, guarding it. They never bothered grandpa, but we never knew what to expect from Europa.

  The first time, it had been a door-to-door to confiscate weapons. We’d managed to stash a few of the smaller ones, like Jude’s carving knife. The next time they’d showed up it had been for identification purposes, to get a census of the city and outlying communities. For most of Kittitas County, the unlawful intrusions ended there. But not for the Donner house.

  Soldiers invaded constantly, at all hours of the day and night. They’d barge in just to see who was home. Sometimes they’d search specific rooms, like the attic or the cellar. Once they’d even torn up several of the floorboards in the bathroom. They never would say whether they were looking for something specific or just harassing us, but they’d confiscated books, prescription medications, photographs—once they’d even taken every scrap of paper in the house.

  A large soldier came out of the hallway carrying David’s school backpack. That got my brother’s attention. “What do you want with that?” he demanded.

  The soldier handed it to George, who promptly unzipped the pack and removed my brother’s laptop. The praetor had long since turned off the electricity he’d so generously gifted to the community, but David still considered the laptop priceless. It contained all his scientific theories and the beginnings of an essay he hoped would someday get him into MIT.

  George smiled at us. He’d obviously bagged his prize for this particular hunt. “Lasst uns gehen,” he muttered in German. The soldiers headed for the door.

  David leapt from his chair and intercepted them. “That’s mine!” he bellowed.

  The soldiers laughed. One of them put his hand on David’s forehead and held him at arm’s reach. “Not anymore,” he replied in precise English. Then he gave my brother a shove that sent him backwards to the floor.

  As the door closed behind them, we stood in silence. David had been completely humiliated and we all felt embarrassed for him—except for Ben who’d given up on being patient with my brother.

  “How do you like Europa now?” Ben taunted.

  His jaw clenched, David stood up and dusted himself off. “I blame each of you for this.”

  “Us?” Tim blurted.

  “I can’t wait to hear this,” Jude remarked.

  Milly came out of the kitchen, arms folded, and stared at David.

  “They single us out because of what you did at the Welcome Ceremony.”

  “Oh for Pete’s sake,” Tim growled.

  David pressed his point. “Because of that fake list, they think they can’t trust us.”

  “Well, they can’t trust us!” Ben shouted. “They’ve at least got that right.”

  Milly shook her head at David. “For the life of me, I can’t figure out whose side you’re on.”

  “His own,” Tim remarked.

  “Just because I think logically, instead of charging in with guns blazing—”

  “As if you’d ever charge in,” Jude sneered.

  David glared at him. “Who negotiated with the praetor for my grandfather’s release? I didn’t see any of you volunteering to go.”

  That’s when they all started yelling at once.

  “All right!” I interjected over the noise. “Enough!” I let out a shrill whistle and they all finally fell silent. “It’s over. Let’s move on.” I looked at Milly. “How’s he doing today?”

  “Still babblin’ about numbers.” She angled a look at David. “Stickin’ that Citizenship Day flyer under his nose last night was probably not the best idea.”

  David had taken it upon himself to tell our grandfather about the ceremony and Grandpa had become extremely agitated. He’d started mumbling about numbers and calculations, but nothing that made any sense.

  “I don’t need some backwoods hick telling me what’s best for my grandfather,” David snapped at her.

  Milly’s nostrils flared. “I’m fixin’ to put you through the floor, David Donner!”

  “Then it’ll be my turn,” Jude warned.

  Scowling, David climbed back into his chair and pretended to read his magazine.

  Milly turned to me. “I took him breakfast, but he didn’t eat it.”

  “I’ll check on him.”

  I walked down the hall and knocked softly on my grandfather’s door. He didn’t respond, but then I didn’t expect him to. He hadn’t communicated directly with any of us since we’d brought him home from city hall on that horrible day in May.

  I eased open the door. “Grandpa?” As usual, he sat in the creaky rocking chair by his bed. He was pale and thin, unrecognizable as the man he used to be. I wondered if he ever slept.

  I sat down on the edge of his bed. He didn’t look up. I wasn’t sure if he even knew I was there. He just kept reading his old German book.

  “Grandpa Donner?”

  His lips moved as his eyes drifted over the whisper-thin page.

  I set my hand on his knee. “I wish you would look at me.”

  Then he started whispering the same words he’d been
muttering since seeing the Citizenship Day flyer. “Calculate the number. Calculate the number.”

  He kept repeating that over and over. I ignored it and started talking to him instead, hoping that something might draw him out.

  “The soldiers were here again. They took David’s laptop.”

  “Calculate the number.”

  “Milly’s worried that Tim and Jude will be conscripted into the Europa Guard.”

  “Calculate. Calculate.”

  “I hear that instead of an ID card, Europa gives you a tattoo.” I looked at the back of my hand. “I used to want a tattoo—”

  My grandfather lunged forward and grabbed my arm. He looked me right in the eye. “It’s the number…of a man,” he rasped.

  My breath caught. “Grandpa? Grandpa, can you hear me?”

  “Calculate the number.” His grip tightened.

  “You…you’re hurting me.”

  I stood. He stood with me. He wasn’t letting go.

  His voice got louder. “It’s the number of a man.” He started shouting. “A man! It’s a man!”

  Tears of pain and fear burned my eyes. “Grandpa, let go!”

  Ben came charging into the room, followed by Tim and Jude. By then my arm felt like it was breaking.

  “What’s going on?” Ben demanded.

  “Calculate it!” Grandpa shouted.

  “I-I don’t know,” I stammered. “He just grabbed me.”

  Tim tried to catch my grandfather’s attention, but he wouldn’t take his eyes off me.

  “A man!” Grandpa shouted. “It’s a man!”

  Jude took hold of Grandpa’s arm. “G-Pa? Let go of Sera.”

  “You’re hurting her,” Ben added, hoping to break through.

  “Calculate the man,” Grandpa muttered at me.

  His grip tightened again. I winced.

  “Okay,” Tim said. “No more asking nicely.”

  It took all three of them to pry my grandfather’s fingers off my arm.

  Once free, I ran from the room, hurt and confused. Five finger-sized bruises were already appearing against the pale skin on my forearm.

  The boys came out a few moments later. “He’s calmed down,” Tim said.

  I looked past him to see Grandpa in his rocking chair, quietly reading his book as if nothing had ever happened.

  Two hours later, people filled Pioneer Park, trying to pretend they were having a good time and not scared out of their minds. They all stood in deep lines at long tables set up by the gazebo, organized according to the first letter of their last names. The party came complete with balloons and streamers, bowls of sweet punch, trays of delicate cookies and cakes, and Europa guards with AK-12s.

  I stood in the line closest to the gazebo, in front of the placard with the letters A-F written on it, with David directly behind me. I could smell the food, meant to appease the masses, and my treacherous stomach grumbled.

  The praetor wore his counterfeit smile and, flanked by the white wolf and George, stepped up to the microphone perched at the top of the gazebo steps. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began. “Welcome to our Citizenship Day Celebration, where you will all be made official members of the Europa Confederation of Nations.”

  People cheered and applauded, but their effort was half-hearted and their smiles didn’t quite reach their eyes.

  “Citizenship Day has become a proud and noble tradition among our allied members. It is a time of renewal and celebration, a time to break free of the old and embrace the new. Now, the soldiers seated at the table in front of you will gather some of your personal information, and then you will take the oath and sign your citizenship certificate. After which, you will receive your Biotat identifying you as a citizen of Europa and eligible for all the privileges and benefits that come with your new status.

  “Once your swearing-in ceremony has concluded, I invite you to gather around the bonfire for unlimited food and drink. I’m sure you will find, as others before you have discovered, that Europa is a kind and generous mother.” He took a step away from the mic, then remembered his manners. “Thank you and have a nice day.” His smile flashed quickly, like a bullet.

  The ceremony began. Thomas Bradley was at the front of my line. His dad, John Bradley, used to own the local Quick Mart. Thomas had been a grade behind me in school, where he’d spent his lunch hours shooting spitballs at the teachers.

  He raised his right hand, as instructed by the soldier, repeated the oath to Europa, then signed the paper placed in front of him. They ordered Thomas to stick his right arm into a large metal tattoo machine. It began to hum. He yelped as a lightning fast needle buzzed over the back of his hand like a swarm of angry bees. It was over in seconds. He stepped aside, rubbing his offended appendage. I tried to get a look at the Biotat, but when he walked by me he was babying his hand like it might fall off.

  The next in line, Alison Evans, a former postal worker, took her oath, signed her paper, got her Biotat, and stepped aside. And the line moved ever forward. Julie Davis, Michael Dunbar, Ron Franks, Christina Absalom.

  I heard an engine and looked up. A troop transport truck rumbled from the road and onto the grass. It drove around the lines of people, then parked on the left side of the long tables. No soldiers got out. I craned my neck and could see that the back of it was empty. An empty transport truck could only mean one thing; they intended to fill it with something—or someone.

  Two lines away I saw Tim step up to a table. “Name?” I heard the soldier ask in accented English. Milly stood behind Tim. She was barely holding it together.

  “Age?” the soldier asked Tim.

  “Eighteen.”

  Tim raised his right hand to take the oath. I flashed back to when he’d taken the oath to join the 1st Cascade and a profound sadness flooded through me.

  Then I heard Milly screech. A soldier had sidled up to her, cooing at her in German and trying to touch her hair. Milly slapped his hand away and he slapped her back—hard.

  Tim reacted instantly. He threw a solid punch that knocked the soldier to the ground.

  Everything happened fast after that. Several soldiers rushed Tim. He was hit and kicked, then dragged off toward a military car parked a few yards away. Before any of us could think what to do, the car sped off with Tim inside.

  Milly was in hysterics and drawing a lot of attention to herself. Jude hurried over to calm her down before she ended up hauled off like her brother. My mind spun. Where were they taking Tim? Would they lock him up the way they had my grandfather?

  “Neem,” I heard.

  “Sera,” David hissed.

  It was my turn at the table.

  The soldier gave me an impatient look. “Neem,” he repeated. His thick accent made the word sound foreign.

  David pushed me forward. My throat had gone dry. “Sera,” I responded. “Seraphina Donner.”

  He wrote down my name. “Age.”

  “Sixteen,” I rasped.

  He wrote my age by my name. “Raize your right hand.”

  I slowly raised my hand. I looked over at Milly. She was crying on Jude’s shoulder.

  “Do you swear to be faithful and obedient to the leader of the Europa Confederation of Nations and people, to observe the law, and to conscientiously fulfill your duties?”

  I looked back at the soldier. “I…I do.”

  He shoved a piece of paper and pen in front of me. “Sign.”

  I looked down at the document. It was written in a language I didn’t recognize.

  “Sign,” he repeated.

  “W-what does it say?”

  The soldier’s eyes flashed. “Sign ze paper.”

  I picked up the pen, my hand hovering over the signature line. Pen to paper, I told myself. And then move it to make letters. It seemed so easy in theory, but my brain refused to obey. The soldier in front of me grew impatient.

  David moved up next to me. “Sera. It’s just a piece of paper.”

  “It’s more than that,” I hissed
back.

  “Sign. Ze. Paper,” the soldier repeated.

  “For God sake, Sera, sign it.”

  A real battle raged inside my head. Saying the words was one thing, but signing my allegiance over to Europa? How could I pledge myself to a country I detested? And what about Tim? Where were they taking him? There was no way I was putting my name on that paper.

  I put the pen down.

  The soldier in front of me reacted violently. He took hold of my shirt and yanked me halfway over the table. Pens and papers scattered onto the ground; the people in line around me gasped and stood back.

  I felt the cold pressure of his gun at my temple. “Sign. Or I vill put a bullet through your thick American skull.”

  “Wait!” David held up his hands. “It’s okay,” he said to the soldier as he shoved a pen in my hand. “Just give her a second. She’s going to sign.” He gave me a hard, tight look. “Do it!”

  The pressure of the gun drilling into my head made my eyes water. I grasped the pen. I could barely see the document from my position on the table, but I angled my eyes and watched my hand tremble as I put the tip of the pen onto the paper. My vision blurred. I couldn’t see the line. The soldier’s grip on my shirt tightened. He was going to shoot me.

  Then a commotion drew the soldier’s attention.

  I heard David shift beside me. “Oh no,” he whispered.

  The soldier let go of my shirt and my feet landed back on the ground. He came around the table, staring at something behind me. I turned and froze.

  My grandfather walked slowly toward the gazebo. He looked like something out of a horror movie with his hair matted to the back of his head, his clothes hanging from his thin body, and his old book clutched in his hand.

  People parted to let him pass. He stopped in front of Praetor Stanislov.

  “Mr. Donner. So good of you to join us. You look—actually, you look terrible.” He laughed.

  My grandfather dropped to his knees. At first, I couldn’t tell if he’d fallen or done it on purpose, but then he raised his book high over his head and shouted in a voice that boomed stronger than anyone thought him capable of. “Watch out that no one deceives you! For many will come in my name claiming I am the Messiah!”