by Doug Felton
“They might not, and what other choice do we have?” Josh said.
“You would die for me?”
“I’d rather not have to, but I would.”
Raisa gave herself thirty seconds to look at the man standing in front of her. She’d been so focused on Zeke and her own emotions, she hadn’t taken time to consider what he had given for her . . . or what he was willing to give. Not once since she recruited him at Raven Rock had he acted for himself. He had always and only met her needs. Raisa had paid little attention at first because, once she became the queen, that’s how everyone acted around her. They served her. But this was something else.
“No,” she said. “There’s got to be another way. Maybe I could swim down to the point and come in from there.”
“That won’t work. He’s got guards there too and drones offshore. If they spot you in the water, you’re an easy target.”
“Well, hell’s bells,” she said, remembering a phrase her dad used to use. “There’s got to be a way to get close to Zeke without getting killed.”
“What if—.” Josh’s words were cut off by gunfire and shouting behind them, to the east. Being so many floors up, the sound was faint but audible. They both turned to see what was happening.
The drones hovering over the horde of immortals were closer now, passing the I-579 barrier. The gunfire must have been the resistance trying to stop them. Raisa shuddered at the thought of what the Ten Thousand would do to those people, especially drugged as they were, but she couldn’t do anything about it. Scott hadn’t stopped them, and she hadn’t killed Zeke.
As they watched, ten thousand tiny black dots on the ground moved at incredible speed down the streets of Pittsburgh to Point State Park. No. No. It can’t end this way! Raisa’s mouth fell open in despair, and tears filled her eyes despite the promise she made to herself.
“Wait,” Josh said. “That’s how we’ll get in. That’s how we’ll get close to Zeke. We’ll walk in with the Ten Thousand.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Zeke straightened his tie and checked himself out in the mirror again. He smiled at the reflection, looking back at him. I do look royal, don’t I?
“Sir, they’re arriving,” an aide said.
Zeke was in one of the large commercial tents set up behind the stage for events at the amphitheater. He had his crew erect them the day before. Someone brought him a tiny microphone that looked like a round, transparent piece of plastic. It was designed to adhere anywhere on the face and pick up the human voice. It wasn’t made for singing, so Zeke had never used one, but it was great for speaking. Someone else patted him on his forehead with a makeup sponge, making sure he was ready to look his best.
Zeke activated his comm and chose Scott’s contact. “Scott, are you online and ready to go?”
“I am,” Scott said. “I’ve taken care of everything.”
Zeke could hear the voices of the Ten Thousand as they gathered outside, and he closed his eyes, breathing in the energy they brought with them. “Good,” he said. “It’s almost showtime.”
The backstage tents were big enough to house several rooms delineated with hard plastic walls, so it was easy to forget you were in a tent. Leaving his dressing room, Zeke made his way to the room where his father was being kept.
“Well, dad,” he said with pointed sarcasm, “I guess this will be the first time you’ve been to one of my concerts. I’m glad because what I will do here today is so much more important than anything I’ve done before. And you will be proud of me. In fact, you’ll say it to my new friends.”
Micah Wellington looked as if he were trying hard to keep a tough exterior, but he was failing. Holding his bandaged stub of a hand close to his chest, he twisted his face as if he were about to let a string of curses fly, but said nothing.
“When I give you your cue, you will come out on stage and tell everyone how proud you are of me and how fortunate they are that I am leading them into a glorious future. Is that understood?”
Micah nodded.
“Oh, and by the way,” Zeke said as he turned to go, “if I am not convinced of your sincerity, I will kill you.”
Zeke left his father, feeling a rush of adrenaline at the thought of forcing the man who hated him to praise him publicly. He meant to humiliate the man, but if he refused to cooperate, he would be just as pleased to kill him.
Zeke stopped mid-stride and grabbed his temple as a shot of pain temporarily blinded him. He waited for it to pass as it always did. Those who worked with him knew there was nothing to do but wait, so they stood silently while he regained his bearings. He took two deep breaths as the nausea that accompanied the pain lifted. Once it had, he continued in his stride as if nothing had happened.
With a trail of aides and assistants following him, Zeke stopped at the main entrance to the tent before stepping out.
“Is everyone here?” he asked the crowd of subordinates around him.
“Yes, sir,” they said.
He opened the door and approached the steps leading up to the back of the stage.
Forty-five minutes earlier, Zeke had remotely watched as the Ten Thousand overcame the resistance waiting for them as they entered the heart of the city. The resistance was armed, but their guns were of little use against the speed and superhuman healing power of immortals.
New World soldiers had been instructed to stand down, but Zeke had made sure the good citizens of Pittsburgh were mad enough to stand their ground. He even brought gun-toting nut jobs in from the surrounding area, hyped up on anti-immortal rhetoric. It was surprising how easy it was to incite people to violence when they were already looking for an enemy to fight. It was the perfect setup for a battle. Zeke had no doubt about the outcome, but that was hardly the point. Zeke’s aim was to further remove the Ten Thousand from the rest of society. Killing people who were simply trying to defend their city was a good way to do that. Nobody would welcome them after word of what happened in Pittsburgh got out. And, of course, Zeke would have to take measures to protect the Ten Thousand from those who wanted revenge, further isolating them.
Emerging atop the stage, he smiled at the scene before him. The theater seated only 4,000, so people spilled out around the stage and some even on top of the back wall behind the top row of seats. As he watched, more appeared on top of the wall, jumping from the ground behind it.
The cacophony of noise generated by the Ten Thousand in their current state was more than even his amplified voice could overcome. He touched his ear again. “Okay, Scott. Now.”
Zeke watched with a smile as an invisible wave passed through the crowd, calming them. What had been a boiling pot of emotion-driven humanity settled to a simmer and then stillness. People sat and looked around at each other with bewildered faces. Zeke knew that it was the drug that Scott had administered through the nanobots that was calming them. He still needed them open to suggestion, so the drug affecting their reasoning was still active in their frontal lobes, but it was time for them to calm down and listen.
When everybody had settled down, he raised his arms and said, “My friends, welcome to Pittsburgh, the first colony of the immortals.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Raisa made her way through the jostling, rowdy crowd to the top row of seats. She wanted to stay in the shadows until she was ready to make her move. At the moment she didn’t know what that would look like.
Tension and anticipation charged the atmosphere, the people around her moving with jittery aggression. Shoving matches and fights over seats were popping up like wildfires throughout the overcrowded theater. And then it stopped. It was as if someone flipped a switch; everyone became docile, sitting quietly wherever they could. Raisa realized that someone had indeed flipped a switch. Scott. She looked to the stage to see Zeke standing with his arms outstretched.
“My friends, welcome to Pittsburgh, the first colony of the immortals,” he said.
Raisa felt Josh put a hand on her arm as if he thought she
might charge him with her sword at that very moment.
“You have been through a lot in the past several days,” Zeke continued. “I am sorry that our government has treated you like criminals, but as long as I have anything to say about it, you will always have your rightful place in the New World.”
Raisa’s face reddened at the accusation against her. Everything that had happened to the Ten Thousand resulted from Zeke’s deception. He had taken everything from her, her throne, her husband, and her reputation.
“I hope you can see why it’s important for us to stick together and support one another. If you let me, I will lead us into a glorious future.”
People around Raisa were nodding their heads in agreement. She wanted to stand up and tell everyone who Zeke Wellington really was. Not their savior, but their enemy.
“Stop fidgeting,” Josh said in a whisper. “You’ll draw attention to yourself.”
“I need to do something. What’s the point of being here if we’re not going to stop him?”
“I have an idea,” Josh said, looking around. “I’ll be back.” He got up and slipped out of the row they were in.
Raisa watched him go down the steps to the bottom of the theater and disappear around the side. Zeke kept speaking.
“There are forces at work against us, but I have been put in a position of influence and power. With your support, I will stay there. Queen Raisa is dead, and I hope to be named king of the New World by the council.”
A smattering of applause rippled through the crowd, but most of the people seemed dazed and confused by it all. Raisa didn’t blame them. Their brains were being subjected to one drug after another. She looked around but saw no sign of Josh.
On the stage, Zeke said, “I can’t tell you how pleased I am that we are all here together and that together we will have the chance to lead the New World. But most of all, I am pleased that my father is here to see this. He’s been my biggest supporter, and without him, I would not be here today.” Zeke motioned off stage, and one of his assistants escorted his father onto the stage and handed him a microphone.
His father, who was used to speaking in front of powerful people, looked as if he were a kid with stage fright. He took the mic with his good hand and walked with unsure steps toward Zeke. Zeke embraced him in what appeared to be an affectionate hug.
“Why don’t you say something, Dad?”
Micah Wellington lifted the mic to his mouth and spoke, but there was no sound coming through the system. He looked at the mic and tapped it with his finger. Zeke shot an angry glance toward the sound booth and then chuckled.
“Looks like we have a little technical difficulty,” he said.
Micah kept tapping the mic until it came to life.
“That’s better,” Zeke said. “Now, what was it you were saying, Dad?”
Micah looked disappointed that his microphone was finally on. “I uh . . . I am pleased that you have brought the Ten Thousand here today.” Micah’s words were halting and flat. “You have shown great leadership, and our nation is lucky to have you.”
Zeke’s plastered a smile on his face, but there was no pleasure in his expression. “Aren’t you proud of me for what I’ve accomplished so early in my life?”
Raisa shuddered at the scene before her. What kind of person would drag out his dad, even one like Micah, to humiliate him by treating him like a trained pet?
“Yes, son. I am proud of you.” Micah looked defeated.
“Since I have it on good authority that I will be named king of the New World, why don’t we get a head start on the royal protocols and have you bow.” Zeke turned to the crowd, which was watching with rapt attention. “What do you say, folks?”
The crowd cheered their approval, but Micah made no move to bow.
“I’m back,” Josh said as he slid into the seat next to her. Raisa had been so focused on the drama before her, she hadn’t noticed his return.
“And?”
“And how about you tell these people the truth?” Zeke opened his hand to reveal a small, clear plastic adhesive dot.
“Where did you get this?” she asked.
“The sound booth.”
“Isn’t there somebody in the sound booth?”
“Not somebody who’s conscious.” He gave her the small mic. “Once you peel it and adhere it to your skin, it will go live. It’s unmuted, so be careful.”
Raisa took the nearly invisible microphone and peeled it off its backing, sticking it to her chin. On the stage, Micah refused to bow, and Zeke was working to maintain his pleasant demeanor.
Raisa put her hand over her mouth, amplifying her voice in the mic. She spoke softly, but her voice carried over the sound system.
“Why don’t we have the people bow to real royalty, Zeke?”
The crowd stirred, and Zeke lost any pretense of charm as he abruptly turned from his father to the crowd. He motioned to his aides in front of the stage, and they left, presumably to find the sound booth and turn her off. He dismissed his father with a flippant wave, and two more aides guided him off stage.
“We’ve got to see you if you want us to bow,” Zeke said. “Why don’t you come on out?”
The murmuring of the Ten Thousand provided Raisa with the cover to keep talking. “Maybe later,” she said. “How about first we tell them that you’re the one behind the Tom Cruise videos, or that you’ve drugged them to use them for your own purpose.”
Zeke had recovered from the shock of hearing Raisa’s voice, and he regained his composure, letting out a hearty laugh. With a sweeping gesture, he said, “Didn’t I tell you? They will do anything to stop us. All the more reason we need each other. I wasn’t the one who put you in jail or who stuffed you into a bunker. But I am the one who got you out.” A smile crept across Zeke’s face as if he had thought of something. “In fact,” he said, “I have it on good authority that it was Prince Alexander who orchestrated everything that’s happened to you.”
Raisa trembled with rage at the sound of her husband’s name. “Don’t you say his name,” she said in a low growl.
“And it’s no surprise the prince was in on it; he’s not one of us. Oh, I guess I should use the past tense; wasn’t one of us. I imagine that he felt threatened, after all, his wife had more in common with us than she did with him.”
Raisa gritted her teeth and forced herself to stay seated. “I have nothing in common with a murderer like you.”
“I’m a murderer? Really? Was it me who shot Owen Ross to death in his own apartment? That was his name, by the way, the man you killed in cold blood. His wife’s name is Jade, and their baby is Asher.”
As Zeke spoke, his people moved up the aisles, scanning the crowd, looking for her.
Josh turned his face toward her with a pained expression of guilt. They both knew they couldn’t argue that point.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have among us a young woman who is an imposter. She has been trying to pass herself off as Queen Raisa, and she was responsible for the murder of an innocent man yesterday, right here in downtown Pittsburgh.”
The crowd reacted to the accusation.
“She looks a lot like Queen Raisa, only with short brown hair and brown eyes,” Zeke said. “So, here’s what I want you to do. Look to the person on your left and on your right, and if you see someone who fits this description, stand up.”
Panic surged in Raisa’s heart. They were out of options. Everyone began looking at the people next to them. Josh was on her left, so turned her face toward him, hoping that if the person on her right saw him looking at her without concern, he might assume she checked out. No such luck. The guy next to her grabbed her face with his hand and twisted her head in his direction. A look of recognition lit up his face.
He was getting ready to stand when Raisa said, “Everybody stand up now, or I will blow this place sky high.” It was a ridiculous claim to anyone thinking clearly, but these people weren’t thinking clearly, thanks to Zeke. All around the theater,
people stood and began shouting. Raisa and Josh jumped to their feet along with the man who had identified her. He waved and yelled, trying to get someone’s attention, but to no avail.
“This is our chance to get out of here,” she said to Josh, putting a hand over the mic on her chin.
They began pushing past people, heading toward the aisle when nearly everyone in the arena suddenly went limp and fell, some to the ground, some in their chairs. It looked like a massacre, bodies strewn everywhere. But Raisa knew the truth. Scott had come through for them. A smile found its way to her lips until she lifted her gaze to the stage. Elliot stood near the back of the stage, which meant she hadn’t taken the mind-altering drugs. This brought a pang of sadness to Raisa’s heart. Her betrayal was real, not the product of drug-induced manipulation.
Raisa’s gaze shifted from Elliot to the front of the stage, where she saw Zeke, his eyes locked on her.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Zeke was momentarily frozen by the scene before him. The gathering of immortals he’d brought together looked like ten thousand marionette puppets who all had their strings cut at once. They were either dead or unconscious. But how? Zeke ran through the possibilities in his mind. There was only one answer. Someone on the tech team had betrayed him, probably Scott. The anger Zeke felt was too deep for a simple emotional outburst. He would deal with Scott severely, but later. At the moment, he had a more pressing challenge.
Standing in front of the stage, equally stunned, was his security team. They hadn’t been affected by whatever had happened because they didn't have the nanobots in their bodies. He was about to issue orders when he saw two figures in the back row of the theater standing. Raisa and the guy who had been helping her. She was smiling until she saw him. He had underestimated the queen. Their eyes locked, and Zeke could see the fire burning in her.
“There,” he yelled, pointing at her.
Zeke’s security pulled their weapons without hesitation and began firing. But as fast as they were, they couldn’t match the speed of two augments. Raisa threw herself into a backward somersault, landing on the top of the wall behind the back row and then jumping off, out of sight. The guy with her ran along the back row until he came to a rail, which he jumped, landing him out of sight behind the seats.
