Dissidence (33 page)

“How is it no one knows this?” Peter’s words echo my thoughts exactly.

“That was one of the terms set by our side.” He says ‘our side’ like we’re on the same team as the people who handed us all over to
Perman
in the first place. “Can you imagine what it would be like out there if everyone knew that the government had no actual power? It’s hard enough to keep the population under control with just the hollow threat of force. We rely almost entirely on the inter-colony alliances to keep the peace. If individual colonies decided to start fighting amongst themselves
,
there would be nothing we could do to stop them.”

“So
,
you just kidnap people and force them to work for
Perman
.” Connor sounds disgusted
,
and I’m right there with him.

“You have to understand.” Please tell me he is not going to try and justify this . . . to
us
.
“We assign jobs and set up strategic unions between the colonies to maintain peace. If people start questioning those things and refusing to go along, then everything could fall apart,
everything!
Dissiden
ts risk spreading radical ideas
and causing total chaos out there. We needed a way to control those people, and
Perman
required us to supply workers for his camps. It was the only way.”

“Those
people
?”
Uh oh, Connor may have been pushed off the deep end. “
We
are those people. You took us away from our homes, our families . . . our
lives
.”

I drop my hand on Connor’s knee beneath the table and he quiets, but his back is still stiff as a board.

“It was the only way,”
Syms
insists, and I almost pity the guy. He’s stuck in an impossible situation with no real power to do anything about it.
Sounds familiar.

“What is it you want from us?” I’m curious to know. Besides, arguing over what happened a hundred years ago isn’t going to get us anywhere.
It’s time to move forward.

“I want your help.”

I can literally
feel
the waves of aggravation rolling off of Connor.
“Help?
With what?
All we have are resources, which we’re willing to release to you, if you promise us our freedom.”

“I’m not interested in your resources.”

“Well then, what?”

“
Perman
controls the military, but it seems
you
control a force of your own.”

“It’s hardly the military,” I point out, needlessly. He knows who we are.

“The military isn’t all you think it is. The numbers are nowhere what they used to be
,
and you would be surprised what a properly motivated group of people can accomplish.”

I think we’ve already accomplished quite a bit
,
actually. After all, I’m sitting here learning state secrets from the freaking
President
.

“I have a question. If
Perman
controls the military, then why hasn’t he just come in and taken the camps back yet?” Peter just throws it out there, but it’s what we’ve all been wondering for some time now.

“Like I said,
Perman’s
a business man. To him
,
you’re all assets.
Valuable assets that he can’t afford to just throw away.
I doubt he has any intention of letting you leave that camp, but while you’re still there, I assume he’s coming up with a better business plan. One that will regain him control of your camps without costing him too much collateral damage. If this goes on much longer, however, I have no doubt he will do just that. Every day that you are not producing resources, he loses substantial profits.”

This seriously all comes down to money. All of our lives have dollar signs attached. I wonder how much I’m worth. Probably not much
,
considering how much trouble I’ve caused.

“
Perman’s
troops are scattered across the country right now, reinforcing the remaining camps
,
thanks to your little rebellion. That leaves his home front vulnerable.”

Is he seriously asking us to go to war with some crazed billionaire who controls the entire military?

“If your forces were to attack his company, they would stand a good chance at taking out
Permatech
.”

Yes, yes he is.

Chapter 31

“I thought no one knew where
Permatech
was
.
”
I’ve got him there.
Oh well, too bad, so sad. Guess he’ll just have to come up with some other plan.

“Being President does have some benefits.”

Well . . .
hell
.

“And, if
Permatech
falls, then who gets control of the military?” Connor
’
s fingers beat an erratic rhythm on the table similar to that of my heart. I cannot believe we are seriously discussing this.

“
Robert
Perman
doesn’t have any heirs, so i
f
Permatech
falls, and Robert
Perman
with it, then the military reverts to the control of the President.” Of course it does. Maybe the guy isn’t as dumb as he looks on TV.

“What exactly do we get out of this?”

“Your freedom.
I can have you all transported home and kept out of the work camps for life.”

It’s what we wanted from Drew Reynolds.

“You would keep the work camps functional?” demands Connor.

“We still need the resources.”

“You can’t be serious …” Connor is about to fly off the rails again, but I cut him off before he can go too far and get us all in trouble.

“Let us think it over.”

I can feel Connor glari
ng at me, but I ignore him. Now
is not the time or place to start spouting off. Huh, old dogs
can
learn new tricks.

“It’s getting late anyway. We’ll find you somewhere suitable to spend the night, and we can discuss it further tomorrow.”
Syms
seems pleasant enough, but deep down
,
there’s still something about him that rubs me the wrong way.

***

The rooms here are nothing to scoff
at. L
arge, comfortable, lavishly decorated, and best of all, we each get our
own,
affording me some much needed time to think. We came here to negotiate, but what we came offering isn’t what he’s interested in. Turns out, our people and our weapons
are
our best commodity after all. Either way, this is still a negotiation. The plan is still essentially the same. We know what he wants, and he knows what we want, but is a guarantee of our freedom alone worth all of this? The risks are infinitely higher than when we thought all we had to do was take one more camp to get to Reynolds. Now we’re talking about attacking a company guarded by the freaking
A
rmy
. The rewards for that have got to be higher, but what more should we be asking for
?

This is one of those things that I don’t want left on my shoulders alone.
That’s why the others are here with me.
I’m just headed ou
t the door to go and find them
when they find me instead. At least, Lori, Peter, and Connor do
,
anyway.

“Hey. I was just coming to find you guys. Are the others coming?”

“No, but we can go and get them,” Lori offers.

“Thank
s.” I retreat back into my room
while Lori and Connor go to round up the others, but Peter follows me inside.

As soon as the door snaps shut behind us, he snags my hands and examines my wrists carefully. Umm . . . okay?

“What are you doing?” I try to pull away, but he only tightens his grip.

“I saw that look on your face when
you were
cuffed
earlier
. Did they hurt you?” A flash of
understanding crosses his face.
“Your ribs?”

“They’re sore, but I’ll survive.”

“Son of a . . .” His jaw clenches tight, but then he shakes it off. “Do you want me to see if I can find a cold pack?”

“No. Peter, I’m fine.
Really.”

He looks unconvinced, but whatever argument he was about to unleash dies on his lips when the door swings open, and everyone converges on my room. It feels like a sleepover with all of us sitting around a bedroom in our pajamas, or, well,
someone’s
pajamas. Except, I’ve never actually been to a sleepover before,
and
I don’t think they usually involve a strategy session.

Sandy settles on the bed wi
th me and Lori—
she’s so quiet
that I forget she’s
a part of our group sometimes—
while the guys make themselves comfortable on the floor and other furniture. Allan stretches out his long legs, looking more comfortable than I’ve ever seen him in a pair of plaid pajama pants and a white tee. It’s hard to believe he’s not older than he really is sometimes.
I couldn’t say for sure, but if I had to guess I’d say he’s probably about  . . . twenty?
Not that he looks old, not at all, he just seems more
. . . mature, I guess.
Which
is definitely a good thing
,
considering who else I’ve got to work with.

Peter slides onto the edge of the dresser beside Jessie. Connor and Thomas lean back against the bed, so all I can really see of them is the backs of their heads, and Kyle finds a spot on the floor next to Allan. Now we’re ready to begin.

It goes about as well as I expected. Hours later, we still can’t agree. Some of us think that with this increased risk
,
we should ask
for an increased reward. Other
s think that asking for more is risking the only chance we’re going to get at any sort of a normal life. Both sides make good points. And even if we were to come to an agreement, no one can figure out what ‘more’ we should be asking for
,
anyway. By the end of the evening, I’m left with no better ideas, but a much bigger headache. Connor announces that we’ll pick it up in t
he morning when several of us—myself included—
can no longer stifle our yawns. The others file out, and, as usual, Peter and Connor are the last two to leave.

Peter lingers near the door. He watches Connor nudge me back toward the bed, like he’s waiting for him, or maybe waiting for him to leave.

“Get to bed, Girlie. You look ready to drop,” Connor teases, but I really am. It’s been an
exhausting day. Not to mention
this bed feels like heaven.

I slip under the sheets, and before Connor even has the blanket pulled halfway over me, my eyes are closed. If I didn’t know better, I could have sworn I felt his lips brush over my hair, but it must have been the beginnings of a dream.

***

The morning started with me presenting the idea of possible greater rewards to
Syms
and his staff of four men and one woman, all dressed in
fancy
-
shmancy
suits that had a way of making me feel wildly inadequate. None of them were happy to hear it, and when I didn’t have specifics to present them with, things ju
st went downhill. It’s been non
stop arguing by everyone in the room for hours.

President
Syms
refuses to flat out accept anything, Connor refuses to budge on anything, Peter has been taking opposing positions to everything Connor has to say, and my head is spinning like a top. It’s nearly dinner time, and not a single thing has been accomplished.

“You can’t seriously expect us to be okay with you keeping those camps operational. They have to be shut down,” Connor demands for the billionth time today.

“Th
ey don’t need to be shut down. T
hey need to be manned differently. Make them a job people can be assigned to,” Peter argues, I think
just
for the sake of arguing.

“That’s as bad as forcing them to work there. People don’t have a say over work assignments, you know that. It’s exactly the same thing
,
only without trying to hide it.”

“It is not. There could be regular work hours
,
and weekends. People could go
home
at the end of the day.”