by J J Hane
“Cassidy, please ping the satellite locations in reference to their orbits.”
A middle-aged woman with curly black hair said something in the affirmative, and something flickered on the screens.
“Kait, please ensure that you make adjustments as necessary based on our current data,” Director Kelley continued. I spotted Kait at the same terminal she’d been working on before. Everyone in the room looked worried, maybe even frightened.
“I can’t believe it worked,” Serenity whispered over my shoulder, more to herself than to me.
“What worked?” I shot back angrily, grateful for the noise below that was drowning out my reply.
“It blinded the Martyrion,” she replied, a tone of awe in her voice.
I wondered how fast the human heart could beat before exploding. After a moment of horrified silence, during which I pondered all of the possible consequences of my actions, I managed to croak out a single word. “How?”
Serenity shrugged, barely aware of my presence in her moment of awe. “I just plugged the memory stick in like I was told.”
“Told by who?”
“Azrael.”
I was tempted to shove her off the catwalk then. I’m not saying I’m proud of it, but I am saying that I would have done it if it weren’t for the distinct possibility of getting caught.
“Have we located the intruder?” Director Kelley asked below. I glanced down to see that he was speaking to a grey-haired, steely man. His uniform was cut a little differently from other MSF personnel, with small silver pins on his collar. I recognized him as Commander Lenci, the man in charge of the entire MSF.
“Not yet,” Commander Lenci replied, voice crisp, biting out the words as though he found them to be an unnecessary waste of air. He was the only other person in the room who didn’t look like he was about to lose his mind.
Director Kelley nodded, evidently aggravated by the news while somewhat comforted by the other man’s efficiency of speech. He returned his attention to the computer screen. “Kait, when was our last photograph of the tribes taken?”
Kait tapped away at her screen before responding. “Yesterday morning, sir.”
The director made a displeased face. Or maybe that was just his face. It was hard to tell.
“Bring it up on the main screen, if you please.”
Serenity leaned over to get a better look at the big screen. The red rectangle shrunk, moving off to the side to replace some sort of ongoing graph. A still photo of the old mall appeared, zoomed out to show not only the structure, but the forest around it for about a couple of miles in any direction. Little splotches of color where the tribe was gathered could just barely be made out. After a moment, Serenity’s jaw dropped as she realized what she was seeing.
“I suggest we use the Archangel now, sir,” Commander Lenci said in the same tone I might use to suggest a restaurant on a boring evening.
Director Kelley was silent for a moment. My heart clenched, and I could see Serenity’s entire body tensing. For a moment, I thought she might throw herself off the catwalk to attack the men below.
“No, Commander,” he said at last, and I could feel Serenity’s tension start to diminish. “Not without approval from the Council. We aren’t going to do anything rash just because of a little coding mishap.”
The Commander of Martyrion Security accepted the director’s response without comment.
“Contact Abraham, please,” Director Kelley spoke into the air, assuming someone would obey. “We will need him here immediately.”
I leaned toward Serenity. “We need to get moving. Now.”
Chapter 14
Without waiting for her to respond, I moved back to the maintenance hatch, slid it open, and crawled inside. I slowly descended, careful to make as little noise as possible. A moment later, Serenity appeared above me, moving with her usual, irritating grace.
After a few minutes of climbing down the ladder, Serenity broke the silence. “Where are we going? It’s going to take forever to get to the ground floor this way.”
“We’ll go down a few more floors, then we’ll sneak onto an elevator,” I told her. “Or maybe I’ll just turn you in as soon as we get out of here.”
“You’re not going to do that,” she replied without hesitating.
“And why not?”
“Because you’ll be in at least as much trouble as I am. Good luck trying to convince your people that you didn’t betray them.”
I ground my teeth, furious with myself for being stupid enough to have let this happen. I should never have trusted her, never tried to befriend her. I had spent the past several days in a constant state of anxiety over the things I had done, and all for what? The friendship of a beautiful girl? Not even that. I wanted to scream at her, to lash out in some way. The thought of grabbing her ankle and pulling her off balance was tempting, except for the part where a fall could kill her. Not to mention the fact that she would probably just land on me and drop us both to the ground out of sight.
“What do you even think this is going to accomplish?” I asked her bitterly. “You saw those little dots. That’s all your people are to the Martyrion: colorful dots on a screen. If you threaten the safety of the city, they’ll just erase all those dots, and then what will you do? All of your people will be reduced to ash and glass.”
“At least I’ve given my people the chance to better themselves,” she answered stubbornly. “We don’t have food or medicine like you. Our lives are hard and short. Azrael will convince the Martyrion to give us what we need to survive, now that the city is blind. At the very least, we won’t have to fear the Archangel anymore. You don’t understand what that’s like, living in the shadow of something like that.”
My teeth were starting to hurt from the grinding. I grimaced at the noise we made as we passed another access hatch. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with here, Serenity! The technicians can fix anything you did. The Archangel system has been running for two hundred years! That isn’t just luck.”
“Where do you think we got that memory stick from?” Serenity asked, leaning sideways to glare down at me.
I froze. Where had they come up with something like that? It had to be some sort of computer virus to shut down the surveillance satellites, but as far as anyone knew, none of the tribes had any technology more advanced than some leftover scraps that barely functioned. They certainly didn’t have computers. The only computers left on this side of the world were located in the Martyrion.
There was only one explanation: I wasn’t the only traitor in the city. Someone, somewhere in the city, had intentionally betrayed us.
But why? I had only accidentally betrayed the city. Who could possibly want to do it on purpose? Life in Martyrion was good, the best you could hope for. It was better than life before the Fall, when resources were plentiful but nations still went to war over them. There were no known diseases that our medical technicians couldn’t treat. Life expectancy was substantially higher than at any other point in human history, and people were just generally healthier. We didn’t have to deal with most of the problems of old age until much, much later in life than before, and many of our scientists seemed to think that they could eventually push that off even further. Why would anyone want to give all of that up?
“Can you get out of the way?” Serenity asked. She sounded like she was trying to be polite, as if she felt a little bad for what she had involved me in. It came out strained. Serenity had many strengths, but interpersonal communication was not one of them.
“I’m thinking,” I told her, still trying to wrap my mind around everything.
Serenity let out a huff. Instead of waiting for me to move, she held herself in place with one arm, opening the hatch we had just passed with the other.
“Whoa! Where are you going?” I demanded.
“I’m not waiting around in here with you to get caught.” With that, she slid easily out through the opening, leaving me alone in the maintenance shaft
. The odds of her escaping unnoticed without me seemed fairly low, so I followed her out.
This time, the access brought us out into a wide hallway with shining floors. There was no one nearby, so we headed in the direction of the elevators once again. No alarms were sounding on that floor, no people running around in a panic. It could have been a normal day in the Tower based on what we were seeing there.
When we reached the elevators, I pressed the call button. We stood close together yet separated now by Serenity’s actions. I had thought she was my friend, that maybe we could start bridging the divide between her people and mine. Instead, the chasm had been cut even deeper. I couldn’t help but feel that the opportunity to finally have peace between our people had just been lost.
The elevator doors slid open. Two men and a woman occupied it. They wore the black robes of council members, modeled after what judges wore in the former United States. All three of them looked old, with grey hair, wrinkles, and spots on their skin. They must have been very old to look that way, but that made sense: the council was supposed to be made up of twelve of the wisest men and women in the city.
“We need to fire the weapon now,” the woman was saying. Her grey hair was pulled back in a bun so tight that it threatened to smooth out the wrinkles on her face. “It won’t be a problem if we wipe them out before they realize we’re blind.”
Serenity and I had stepped quickly to the side as the doors opened, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. The three council members ignored us, getting off the elevator and walking slowly down the hall.
“I still don’t think that’s wise, Shirley,” one of the men replied. “We can’t justify something like that without knowing exactly what is going on right now.”
“Don’t be naïve, Randall,” the other man croaked. “We know they’ve been planning something ever since that little upstart began uniting the tribes. We have to take care of this problem while they’re still on the surface, and we need to do it right away.”
Randall hunched his thin shoulders as he passed us, looking sour. “I won’t stand for this kind of talk. We can send Security out to check on things first.”
“And risk losing good people?” Shirley shot back. “I don’t think so. We’ve been playing nice for decades, and it hasn’t made a difference.”
I glanced longingly at the open elevator, which Serenity had already entered.
Randall shook his head. “Is that what you call that fiasco with Lieutenant Salman thirteen years ago?”
I had been about to join her when Randall mentioned Abishai’s father. The name stopped me in my tracks. What did he have to do with any of this? I knew that we should leave, that every moment we stayed in the Tower increased the risk of getting caught. Still, curiosity got the better of me. I turned to follow after the elders, moving quietly on the smooth floor. Serenity let out an annoyed hiss but followed me anyway.
“You’re not going to bring that up again,” the unnamed man sighed tiredly. “We all know it was a mistake. Most of the savages leading the tribes at the time are already dead by now. I have a hard time believing that they still hold a grudge from that.”
Randall made a sound of disgust. “Get your head out of your ass, Lionel. The people out there aren’t animals. They’re-”
“They’re close enough,” Shirley interrupted imperiously. “Still, I suppose they don’t represent an immediate threat. I would be willing to propose a twenty-four-hour delay before destroying their village. If our systems aren’t back online by then, we could be in greater danger.”
“The Archangel isn’t our only line of defense!” Randall growled. “Security could keep them at bay just using solar rifles. No one is going to risk attacking us.”
Lionel croaked a laugh. “Your great grandchildren might believe that when you tell them, but I don’t. The savages aren’t smart enough to know not to stick their noses where it stings.”
“Besides,” Shirley continued, “you know as well as I do what the real threat is. These savaged may not be involved, but they could be one hell of a distraction.”
The little group reached the end of the gently curving hall, which terminated against an ornate wooded door with little windows set into it. The door swung quietly open when the trio approached, revealing that the wood was thick and heavy. It would serve well as a security door, despite its lovely appearance.
Serenity and I stopped short of the door, unwilling to risk being caught inside the Council’s sanctum, for that was certainly what that room was.
“Now can we leave?” Serenity asked impatiently when the door swung shut again. There was no visible keypad or handle to open it back up.
“Didn’t you hear what they were saying?” I asked her, already turning to head back to the elevators. “They’re going to destroy your tribe!”
Serenity shook her head. “Azrael has a plan.”
“Since when do you trust Azrael? He’s the one who gave you all those bruises, remember?”
“He’s also the one who united the tribes and blinded your city,” she pointed out. “I already told you: he’s a terrible man, but he knows what he’s doing.”
Serenity sounded confident, but I could see the worry at the corners of her eyes as she kept her face forward. She practically vibrated with energy as we waited for the elevator door to open once more.
We rode down to ground level in silence. When we reached the lobby, we headed straight for the main doors at the front. There were a few more people than before, and four guards instead of one, but nobody seemed to be in a panic. Mostly, they ignored us. I couldn’t believe we were about to make it out without being stopped once. It all felt unreal, as though the chaos far above us was an entirely different world.
As soon as I entertained that thought, I heard a stern male voice call out to us. Of course.
“Hold on there, kids,” the man said. Serenity and I exchanged nervous glances before we turned to face a man in the dark uniform of the MSF. The healthy middle-age of a citizen of the Martyrion, the man was built like a tank, shoulders seeming to strain the fabric of his uniform. He had one hand on his stunner, and he wore a suspicious frown.
“What are you two doing here?” he asked as he approached us.
“We were just visiting the agricorps director’s office,” I lied quickly. I had taken the time to think out a good enough story on the way over, rehearsing it in my head over and over again. “We were delivering a report on the efficacy of the new rad-retarding tablets being distributed in the western fields during tilling. My supervisor thought it would be polite to deliver the good news by hand.”
I had to try not to smile at Serenity’s blank look. It was a good enough story, with reference to something most people were vaguely aware of while knowing almost nothing about it.
The guard’s frown deepened. “The agricorps director isn’t in today,” he said, his fingers now closing on the handle of his stunner. “Are you aware that there has been an intruder in the tower?”
I wondered if it was possible for someone my age to have a heart attack. Would it just give out from the stress? The man stopped a foot or two away from us, studying us with an intense stare.
“We were, um,” I began, trying to think quickly. “Leaving the report on his desk?”
The guard took another step closer. “Why don’t you two come with me? We can sort all this out downstairs. I’ll call your supervisor to see what they have to say about it.”
“Um, I really need to get back to my shift, though.” I could feel myself starting to panic. I couldn’t stop myself from looking around for a way out. The guard moved toward me, ready to stop me from escaping.
Serenity, who had been watching everything in silence, stepped smoothly between us, putting one hand on the guard’s broad chest. He stopped in his tracks, blinking down at the girl who was, at best, half his size.
“My friend here is a bit of an idiot,” she said like she was apologizing for a small child.
“He
y,” I began.
She flicked a look at me. “He just needs to calm down. He gets nervous when he thinks he’s in trouble.”
“Young lady,” the guard began, but Serenity’s free hand, the one that wasn’t holding back the big man, shot out, small fingers slipping easily past the man’s own hand. She seized the stunner, twisted it while it was still in its holster, and discharged it with the familiar crackling, popping sound. The guard’s oversized muscles worked suddenly against him, as the stunner forced every one of them to seize simultaneously.
“Let’s go, city boy!” Serenity shouted to me, pulling the weapon free as the man toppled over with barely a groan. She started running and, before I knew it, I was right there beside her, legs pumping.
We burst out of the building before anyone else had a chance to react, pelting down the street. I heard the crackling sound of a stunner being discharged, felt the hairs on my arms and neck stand up as the burst missed me. Glancing back, I saw that we were being chased by the other guards, although our sudden flight had given us a big head start.
Crossing the street in the now busy morning traffic, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a city bus, we darted into a side alley.
“Now you’ve made me a fugitive!” I shouted at her between breaths. Serenity laughed. To my surprise, I could feel an inexplicable laugh building in my own chest. Must be the adrenaline, I thought, remembering that the ancient fight-or-flight response was still unpredictable, capable of doing strange things to your thoughts.
“We have to get off the street,” Serenity said between gulps of air.
I knew she was right. We may have been young and in decent shape, but Martyrion Security was pretty strict with their physical fitness requirements. The men chasing us would be able to run faster and longer. Eventually, our head start would dwindle to nothing, and then we’d get hit with stunners, fall, and probably break our faces open on the concrete sidewalks.
“This way,” I called to her, taking a sharp left turn down an even smaller alley, nearly falling over from my own inertia. I led us in a winding path, taking seemingly random turns to keep our pursuers out of sight. I couldn’t see or hear them, but I knew they’d still be after us. They had probably already called for backup. We would soon be surrounded, outnumbered, and stunned off our feet.
