by Jacob Gowans
“It’s not right,” Natalia said. “Someone else should have to do it. Someone older.”
“Who?” Kawai asked.
Natalia frowned. “Jeffie’s sixteen. So is Sammy.”
“All we’ve known is training and now war,” Li said. “This is no way to live. Certainly no way to die.”
Kawai pulled away from Li, who had his arm around her shoulders. “Didn’t you listen to Thomas’s speech? It is a way to die. And a way to live. It’s something noble. It’s—it’s … something. People live and die doing nothing, they look back and wonder what meaning their lives had. If I have a chance to make a difference, I’ll die for that. When we swore our oaths, I didn’t think hard enough about the meaning. But it’s been almost three years since. The words have had time to sink in deep. With Sammy … I think they sunk in right away. He was ready for this from day one. What else did he have at that time? His mind—he grasped it. All of it. And he accepted it.”
“And Jeffie?” Brickert asked Kawai.
“Sammy’s closer to her than her family has ever been. She doesn’t want to live without him.”
“That’s horrible,” Li said.
“It’s romantic,” Natalia countered.
Brickert could see Li wanted to disagree but chose not to pursue it. Not wanting to dwell on his best friend’s death, Brickert turned his attention back to the night sky. Through the binocoscope he saw a tiny flash of orange, perhaps a shooting star. He tried to zoom in, but it moved too fast. When he finally caught it, he realized it was no meteor. His fingertips went numb and he dropped the binocoscope.
“You know what I—” Li started to say until he saw Brickert’s face, ashen white and frozen.
“A missile. Headed this way.”
“You’re not serious,” Kawai said, but Brickert was already running back to the tunnel entrance as coms were not allowed to be worn outside the safety of the compound. His friends sprinted after him. Diving down the steps, he reached the car, ripped the door open, and ordered his com to call the resistance switchboard.
“Incoming missile!” Brickert ordered. “Code red-three-red-three. Order an immediate evacuation!”
“Who is this?” the switchboard operator asked.
“DOES IT MATTER? EVACUATE NOW!”
Even though they were too far away to hear them, Brickert knew that sirens filled the compound. Ever since the bio-bomb had struck Wichita, the resistance had practiced evacuation once or twice every three months. Is that what the missile is? Brickert wondered. A biobomb?
His friends reached the car seconds after he did. Brickert started Lemon up on the first try and flipped it around.
“Where are you going?” Li asked.
“Sammy and Jeffie are back at the tower. They don’t have a car.”
“Step on it!” Li urged.
They tore through the tunnel, heading back toward Saint Marie. “Can’t you go any faster?” Kawai yelled.
Brickert ignored them, gritting his teeth as he smashed the accelerator to the floor. The car’s headlights shined bright in the tunnel, bouncing off the glossy walls. Brickert kept his eyes trained for the pull-off. About a kilometer away from the tower where they’d left Sammy and Jeffie, Brickert saw two dark shapes running toward the car. He jerked at the wheel and braked at the same time, but the force caused the bumper to clip the wall, and the car flipped over. Brickert swore just as his head smashed into the windshield and everything went black.
* * * * *
Sammy watched the car flip as though it happened in a blur. His blasts weren’t much use against such a large mass, but with Jeffie’s help they managed to stop it from colliding into them. The car landed on its side and skidded to a stop only a meter away. Using hand blasts, he and Jeffie righted it again.
Sammy wrenched open the door. Li was still conscious, but groggy. Brickert looked the worst with blood covering his face, but Kawai and Natalia were also out cold.
“We’ve got about two minutes.” Sammy said as he pulled Brickert from the driver’s seat. “Help me move him!” Jeffie and Li rushed to help, but as soon as Li got out of the car, he stumbled and fell, his eyes dazed, rolling in their sockets.
Jeffie moved Brickert into the back while Sammy got Li back to his feet. He was much heavier than Brickert, but he dragged him to the back of the car. Once everyone was inside, Sammy tried to start the car, but it wouldn’t come to life. He swore and slammed a fist into the steering wheel.
“Not now, Lemon. Please not now.” Sammy tried one more time, but the car still wouldn’t go.
Sammy and Jeffie knew what that meant. Someone was going to have to get out and push the car with blasts. A rumbling came from somewhere far away, and the ground trembled as through an enormous hammer had smashed it. Sammy’s calculation had been off. Just as Sammy opened his door, Li scrambled out of the car shouting, “Stay in! Let me do it!”
There was no time to argue. Sammy closed his door just as Li reached the rear, and felt the car jolt as Li’s blasts hit it. Jamming the accelerator, Sammy looked in the rearview mirror to see Li running as hard as he could, a faint wall of white-blue energy approaching from behind. Sammy started to tap on the brakes, but Li waved him on. “No! Get out of here!” he screamed. “GO!”
Sammy floored it again and sped away. In the dimming light, he saw the wall of energy catch up with Li, who ran only a few more steps after it reached him, and his corpse fell to the floor of the tunnel. The crackling light continued to gain on the car even though Sammy drove as fast as Lemon would allow. Eventually the tunnel ramped upward and he swerved onto the highway headed east. Seconds later, the blast of the bomb fizzled out.
Sammy was glad Kawai, Natalia, and Brickert were still out. Jeffie sat in the front passenger seat, her eyes fixed on the mirror, tears dripping down reddened cheeks.
“That could have been us,” she said hoarsely. “Should have been us.”
Sammy wiped his eyes and kept driving. Several minutes passed in silence until Jeffie spoke again.
“It’s like the universe saved us. Like we’re fated to do what we plan to do.” Jeffie shivered. “Am I crazy for saying that?”
“No,” Sammy whispered. They never spoke about what was coming. Not with each other, not with anyone. Sammy didn’t want to start now. Fortunately, his com rang.
It was Commander Byron. Relief washed over him at the knowledge that the commander was still alive. “Sir,” he said when he answered it.
“Samuel …” the commander sighed. “Thank goodness. Who else is with you?”
Sammy listed the names of those with him. “We—we lost Li, sir.” His voice was small and weak when he confessed it. “He saved us. What about your family?”
“We lost many people today, Samuel.” The commander’s voice sounded strained, almost to the point of breaking. “There will be a time for mourning. Do you remember your instructions for this scenario?”
“Yes sir.” Sammy knew better than to repeat them over the com line, but procedures were in place for this type of event. With the eyes of CAG drones, satellites, and search parties looking for any sign of vehicles fleeing, the group had to act quickly. Many people would be caught, hopefully none would give up vital information. It was for reasons like this that Sammy was glad the leadership committee existed, with so much information kept between relatively few people. “And Vivi?”
“Alive. It was a miracle, but she is alive. We will get her to you. Along with the equipment.”
“What do I need to—”
“Let us worry about those things. You be safe. My father will be in touch soon.”
The line went dead. Sammy drove onward, eyes on the eastern horizon. Grand Forks was the destination. A place he’d never visited. A place he had never wanted to go. Along the way, other resistance members called to confirm Sammy’s safety, most of them leaders. All of them said the same thing. “Sit tight. Let us get your equipment to you. Don’t pass on any intel over the com.”
It wa
s a long time before the sounds of the sirens disappeared. Jeffie crawled into the back of the car to treat her friends’ wounds. Kawai awoke first, moaning groggily as Jeffie dabbed her head with clean gauze from the car’s first aid kit.
“Where’s Li?” she asked.
Jeffie and Sammy exchanged a nervous glance in the rearview mirror. Kawai pushed Jeffie’s hands away and turned her head in every direction.
“Where is Li?”
“He died in the bomb,” Sammy explained. “He saved us.”
Kawai covered her face with her hand. “Stop the car.”
“Kawai—”
Her stomach lurched and her hands flew over her mouth.
“Stop the car, Sammy,” Jeffie said, “she’s going to be sick.”
Sammy pulled the car to the side of the road, and Kawai made it two steps before vomiting. She sobbed and retched and sobbed more. Fresh tears rolled down Jeffie’s cheeks as she listened to the sounds.
Sammy got out of the car and put an arm around his friend. “It’s going to be okay.”
“No, it’s not!” she cried. “It’s never going to be okay. It’s never going to end!”
“Kawai, there is a time for this, but not now. We have to get back in that car and drive or else Li’s death will mean nothing.”
That got her moving a little. Sammy encouraged her into the car, and Jeffie hugged her while Sammy hustled around and jumped back in. They had a long drive ahead of them—nearly eight hundred kilometers. Sammy hoped he could stay awake through the night. The paranoia settling into his bones helped. Every few seconds he checked his mirrors for signs of drones or cruisers following.
Jeffie tried to stay awake by plaguing Sammy with questions that he couldn’t answer. All he knew to say was that they had to wait for communication from the rest of the leadership council—or what was left of it.
Jeffie fell asleep after about three hours. Sammy didn’t mind. If he ended up needing to switch places with her, it would help that she had gotten some rest. He thought Kawai had gone back to sleep too, but then saw the moonlight reflected in her dark eyes.
“I took him for granted,” she finally whispered. “I thought—believed that tragedy was for other people. You … the commander … I don’t know why I saw myself as untouchable. It hurts.”
“It gets better,” Sammy answered softly. “At first you experience it again every day the second you wake up. They die again and again in your heart. But in time the pain is not so fresh and not so horrible. And then one day you realize you’ve moved on. That brings its own kind of pain, a guilty kind, but it’s easier to deal with. And you find people to fill in the holes in your heart.”
Tears fell down Kawai’s face, and continued to fall for hours.
The rendezvous point in Grand Forks was a motel called The Bitter Winds. It was owned and operated by a resistance member named Andrew “Red” Benton, a bear of a man in every way: huge, hairy, and gruff. When Sammy and his friends entered a little after 0800, he nodded to them and said, “How many rooms?”
Sammy stopped paying attention to Red, his eyes were glued to the holo-vision where aerial footage showed Glasgow with the footer headline in all caps: “PRESIDENT TO ADDRESS NATION AFTER TERRORIST COMPOUND DISCOVERED AND DESTROYED.” And in small letters: “Thomas Byron among deceased.”
Liars, Sammy thought. Thomas was alive and well. Sammy had spoken to him only an hour ago. The footage cut away from Glasgow and focused on President Newberry somberly walking up to a podium on the steps of the White House.
“My fellow Americans, we live in perilous times. Yesterday evening in Los Angeles a pro-NWG terrorist organization calling themselves only ‘the resistance’ seized control of the CBN world headquarters in Los Angeles for the purpose of persuading people to their cause with lies and misinformation. Last night, at 2300 hours, we responded with a statement that terrorists will not soon forget.
“Our forces launched a bio-bomb that detonated on the ghost towns of Glasgow and Saint Marie in Mid-Western American territory. Such a serious measure was held in reserve until our intelligence agencies verified that the sites were the locations of the rebel insurgents. Since then, we’ve sent in ground forces to secure the area, confirming four hundred and forty-five casualties and no survivors.”
That’s almost half of the members of the resistance living in the area. Sammy’s guts tightened as he thought of all the dead. Next to him, Kawai sniffed wetly and wiped at her red and raw eyes.
“Many of the dead were NWG citizens—transplants and terrorists—sent here to sow discord and fear among us during our war effort. Many of you watched the address from Thomas Byron, father of a confirmed NWG defector, and longtime known suspect. I urge you to inform yourself on the facts. The CAG has provided a website which debunks the claims Thomas Byron made. Several news stories have been and will be released through a conjoined effort between the government and national media to set the story straight. Congressmen and women are traveling to their homes to meet with constituents and answer questions.
“I urge everyone to have patience and the peace of mind that the government will take care of you. We desire and work for nothing more or less than the absolute safety of America. And, as you have seen, your trust in us is not misplaced.”
Sammy sighed and looked at Red Benton. “Two rooms please. And a doctor if there’s one available.” Thomas’ speech hadn’t worked. The government was already making the resistance look like fools. No, not fools. Like dangerous, evil people.
But it didn’t matter now. The resistance was in tatters.
19. Family
Saturday, November 8, 2087
THE STEALTH CRUISER rocketed toward Orlando carrying three passengers: Commander Byron, his son, Albert, and the Elite, Kallen Dinsmore. Dinsmore slept in the back seat. Albert was awake, seated in the co-pilot’s chair, his face pointedly turned away from his father.
“Do you remember after Rio,” Albert said softly, “when I kept telling you Sammy was alive? And you didn’t believe me?”
Byron thought this was a strange question, but didn’t say that. His relationship with Albert, though slowly improving, was still tenuous at best. “I do remember.” The commander rubbed a little sleep out of his eyes. “The odds were so unlikely. It was not as though I did not want to believe you. My experience simply told me otherwise.”
“But I knew I was right. I couldn’t explain it.”
“You were. And I am still glad you were. Remember, I helped you, gave you access to resources to investigate your hunch.”
Albert sniffed and pinched the skin on his forehead above his nose. “I—I don’t have that same feeling about Grandma.” His voice broke. “Are you okay, Dad? You haven’t said anything about her since—since Glasgow.”
Byron swiped at a tear forming in his eye. “Now is not the time to grieve, Albert. We have to stay focused. As soon as we start allowing ourselves to think about our pain, we lose our focus. And we really cannot afford that.”
Byron rolled his shoulders and every joint popped. His body ached from lack of sleep. After the attack on the resistance, preparation for the mission became ten times more difficult. Each team needed their supplies, and the remnants of the leadership council had only two days to get equipment to where it needed to be. Dozens of the survivors of the bomb and even members of the resistance living outside the compound had stepped up in a big way.
Teams had been mobilized to retrieve essential equipment, personnel, and stored weapons from scattered locations and brought to Sammy, the commander, and Thomas. Sleep had not been a priority. Some teams had driven for almost forty-eight hours straight to make the deliveries on time and keep the planned missions on schedule. Fortunately, Justice Juraschek had worked around the clock with Khani Nguyen to organize the transportation and get everyone and everything to their rightful places.
Hours passed in silence. When Commander Byron wasn’t thinking about his son or his mother, his thoughts went to Samuel and J
effie. The two were headed to Rio in the other stealth cruiser, along with Vitoria. Headed to death if they succeeded. And death if they failed.
Several times during the flight, he considered calling Sammy via his com, but decided against it. Khani Nguyen had cautioned them against using their coms now that the CAG had raided the resistance headquarters. Their coms weren’t safe and only to be used when necessary.
It should be me in Rio.
Byron closed his eyes and cursed his legs. If only they were whole … it would be me on that mission.
He landed the cruiser on the banks of the Wekiva River and roused Kallen Dinsmore. After helping to unload their equipment bags and two motorcycles from the cargo, the Elite wished Albert and the commander a safe mission and flew off, back to the north.
“The mission never seems real until drop-off,” Commander Byron said. “Does it feel that way to you?”
Albert nodded and looked up at the sky. “We should get going.”
They rode down back roads and highways in silence, though they could communicate via their coms should they want. Somewhere up in the sky another stealth cruiser flew toward Rio carrying Sammy, Jeffie, and Vitoria. At times like these, Byron almost wished he hadn’t grown so fond of his pupils at Psion Beta.
But that was the life of a soldier. Growing fond of someone and then letting them go. The commander hadn’t thought of that all those years ago when he signed up with General (then Commander) Wu. Despite the death Byron had seen even as early as at the Elite Training Center, he hadn’t imagined he’d see so much more. He hadn’t fathomed that almost everyone he’d recruited would die. He had trained almost a hundred Psions over the years. And while he wasn’t certain how many still lived, he guessed the number was somewhere around thirty.
Thirty … Forty if I am lucky.
Li was the latest. All the other Psions had made it out of Glasgow and Saint Marie before the bio-bomb’s blast reached them and ripped their very cells apart. But the impact of Li’s death had been swallowed by the loss of Byron’s mother. Her group had been in a packed car trying to escape Glasgow, unable to escape the bomb’s radius. Byron’s father had been speaking to her over the com, urging her on, when her end of the line had gone dead. Bio-bombs had no effect on electronic equipment like coms, only living organisms.
