Apex: Nexus Arc Book 3 (52 page)

M
onday 2041.01.20

“We have some communications re-established,” Gao Yang said.

“We’ve installed these analog systems here,” Gao went on, pointing at the old fashioned phones. “Tapping into old lines still in place. We have contact with key ministries and military bases. We’re working on using those systems to establish links with our embassies now, as you requested.”

“Good,” Bo Jintao said. There were messages that needed to be sent. Communiqués to the United States and India.

“Deputy Minister Ho,” Bo Jintao continued. “An update on the protests.”

“Army and police forces pushed hard last night, Prime Minister,” Ho said. “We made progress in Xi’an, Dalian, and other cities. But the major protests in Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, and Hong Kong have rebuffed us. There have been incidents here in Beijing. Protesters have tried to climb the walls separating us from Tiananmen and enter our compound here in Zhongnanhai.”

“We repelled them,” General Ouyang said. “Unfortunately, we did have to use lethal force on one occasion. Two protesters died.”

Bo Jintao knew. They all knew. They’d heard the gunfire overnight, as they slept alone, after watching the aircraft lift off with their wives and children, taking them away to safer locations, far from the cities.

Bo Jintao nodded. “What about these transmitters?” he asked. “Fu Ping spoke of satellite phones, laser uplinks. Were we able to seize them?”

“No, Premier.” Deputy Minister Ho hung his head in shame.

Bo Jintao turned his head towards General Ouyang. “How is it the Army was unable to seize this equipment?”

The general’s face was impassive. “We were constrained by the rules of engagement. But the rioters were not. They threw fire bombs. They have make-shift weapons.”

Wang Wei cut in. “Then let us authorize lethal force,” the hardliner said.

Bo Jintao took a breath. That was a line that could not be uncrossed.

“The world will see,” Information Minister Fu Ping said, his voice low. “Other protesters will see. Civilians
not in the protests
will see… It’s not like it was.”

“The choice is simple!” Wang Wei said. “We’ve ordered them to leave, and they have not left. If we do not demonstrate our control… then we have none.”

Fu Ping shook his head. “If you enrage the rest of the country, whatever control we have will disappear entirely.”

Bo Jintao looked at Ouyang. The general’s eyes were narrowed. He looked unhappy at the direction of the conversation.

Would his men even obey orders to fire on their fellow citizens? The soldiers were Chinese too. They might have friends in those crowds, brothers, sisters. The army’s obedience had been tested before on more limited scales. Soldiers had pulled the trigger when ordered, had dispelled large crowds, had killed hundreds.

Painful, horrific, every time.

And like this? With millions of their countrymen filling the streets, in every city?

Never. No test of obedience like this had ever been faced.

Bao Zhuang spoke into the silence, his deep baritone filling the room. “Those who gun down their own citizens en masse not only risk ruin,” his voice rose then, into the passionate tone he used to deliver the oratory that had won him China’s love. “They
deserve
whatever ruin befalls them!”

Bo Jintao winced at that.

The room exploded into shouting. Wang Wei was on his feet, yelling at the President. Fu Ping had his arms up, ranting about satellite uplinks. Other Standing Committee members were yelling, to and fro, gesticulating.

“Silence!” Bo Jintao slammed his hand down hard onto the table. “Have some decorum, all of you, or I will have you gagged!”

Stunned faces turned to face him. Wang Wei looked apoplectic with anger. Bao Zhuang, slyly amused. Ouyang alone didn’t turn. The general was looking at Bao Zhuang, thoughtfully, in admiration.

As if he regretted his choice to back Bo Jintao, and strip the President of power.

How Bo Jintao hated Bao Zhuang at that moment.

“General,” Bo Jintao said, staring at Ouyang until the general turned to face him. “We’re out of time! You
must
break these protests through non-lethal means. You have twenty-four hours. After that, we have no choice but to use lethal force. Can you do it?”

Ouyang stared back, his eyes hard, the look of admiration gone.

“If the alternative is to gun down thousands of our own people?” Ouyang asked. “Yes. To avoid that, we’ll find a way to clear them out.” He nodded. “Tonight.”

M
onday 2041.01.20

Kade spun hard, his world going insane, alarms blaring at him, error messages strobing in red in his mind.

COLLISION LEFT WING.

DAMAGE LEFT WING.

CHAMELEONWARE ERROR.

FLIGHT INTEGRITY LOST.

STABILIZE AND DEPLOY CHUTE.

STABILIZE AND DEPLOY CHUTE.

STABILIZE AND DEPLOY CHUTE.

“You stabilize!” Kade yelled at the thing.

The world was spinning, spinning fast, spinning hard. Skyscrapers, lit up in neon, rotating, spinning down below him, giant barbs reaching up to impale him. He was going to be sick. He was going to die.

He was losing altitude fast, flight-worthiness destroyed, aerodynamics lost as he spun madly.

Deploy the chute? In a fast spin it’d tangle, never open, he’d die. They’d drilled it into him.

Stabilize.

Stabilize.

How the fuck do I stabilize?

“DEPLOY YOUR CHUTE!”

It was Sam’s voice, beamed into his helmet, breaking radio silence.

He pulled up comms, tried to talk, couldn’t get his breath over the g-forces of the spin.

“Spinning…” he managed.

“MAIN CHUTE, NOW!” Sam yelled.

Kade grabbed the chute release at his chest, jerked hard. His hand ached with it, but it came away.

Something grabbed at him, yanked at him by his harness, pulled him up and back even as he spun. His head came up, his feet down. He was still spinning, but he was upright now, the sky rotating around him, the city below his feet instead of below his face, his spin slowing. He looked up and behind him, and the chute was barely visible, a distortion in space, its chameleonware trying to mask it, but fumbling, confused by its distorted shape. It was wrapped in a ball around itself, the ordinary black lines leading to it wrapped around each other, keeping it from opening.

He looked down and the world was still rotating, still coming closer, the skyscrapers rising at him.

“NOW CUT IT AWAY!” Sam yelled. “RIGHT SIDE OF YOUR CHEST!”

Jesus, Kade thought. He fumbled for the handle on the right side of his chest, grabbed it, yanked with all his might, felt the chute go, felt his fall accelerate.

“RESERVE!” Sam yelled out of his headset. “LEFT SIDE OF YOUR CHEST!”

Kade reached for the handle at the left, the one they’d told him was the last one between him and death. If he had to pull this… either it worked or he died.

He pulled hard.

Behind him he felt the smaller reserve shoot out into the pre-dawn sky of Shanghai.

It grabbed the air, grabbed hold of him, yanked him up and back hard. His rotation slowed. His fall slowed. He was still spinning. He looked up and back and he could see it, the dark, non-chameleonware reserve, blotting out the sky, the lines to it twisted.

“Kick your legs, Kade! Bicycle! You’ve got to untwist your lines!”

He kicked. He kicked.

“The
other way
!” Sam yelled.

Right! he thought.

Kick, kick, kick!

His spin slowed. He looked up. Lines came free. The chute was open. Handles were there. He reached up for them, put his hands on them.

Then he looked down.

He was between the skyscrapers now. The tops of them were around him, leering at him in neon reds and blues, Chinese actors and actresses raising swords and brandishing spears at him.

Holy shit!

“You have to drop the wing,” Sam said. “The reserve chute’s too small. You’re not gonna be able to land it with the wing.”

“But…” he replied. “If it hits something… Stealth.”

“You’ve got to walk away from the landing. Let go of the wing. Remember the drill?”

He took a deep breath. He remembered.

His hands fumbled for the releases, the ones for the wing,
not
the ones for the chute. Unclip, unclip, unclip.

“Now,” Sam said.

Kade pulled the final release and watched the wing fall away below him, down into the urban canyon below.

Then he put his hands up, back on the chute’s controls.

And got ready to land this thing himself.

M
onday 2041.01.20

Kade came down fast towards the crowded street. There were people everywhere, filling the street, waving signs, shouting. Around them there were men with guns, soldiers, police officers.

Tanks.

He scanned for someplace empty to put down. Everywhere there were people, more people.

Then he heard a gasp from the crowd, looked down, and people were pointing, pointing up at him. His reserve chute was straight black, optimized to do one thing – open. They could see it. He could feel their collective minds now, looking up in shock and amazement.

And suddenly a gap was opening in the crowd, and he was diving towards it, falling too fast, moving forwards too fast.

“Pull up!” Sam yelled into his ear.

Kade yanked hard on the two handles above his head. He felt the chute grab air more aggressively. His fall slowed at the last second. His body swung forward just as he came down. He bent his knees to prepare for touch down.

His feet landed hard, the impact jarring its way up his bones. He fell to one knee in the empty space in the road. There were voices all around him. Shouting. More shouting.

He looked up and there were two soldiers, shouting, pointing assault rifles at him, yelling in Mandarin, moving closer.

The chute. The lines. They could see where it came down, clipped to his chameleonware harness.

Oh fuck, Kade thought.

There was a pistol strapped to his thigh, hidden in a chameleonware pouch. His hand moved slowly towards it.

The soldiers kept yelling, gesturing with the barrels of their rifles.

Kade’s heart was pounding. Could he reach the gun…

Something moved above him. He looked up, saw the canopy coming down, settling over them.

The soldiers looked up too, one of them fired up at it. Then it was on them, everything black. More gunfire erupted.

Kade dropped low. Arrows in his mind pointed up, identified shooters from above. He rolled, got his hand in the pouch. Guns kept firing. The canopy was on him, tangling around him as he rolled.

The guns stopped.

Kade went still. Pistol in his hand.

His radio came alive. Sam’s voice.

“Kade? Kade? What’s your status?”

“On the ground,” he sent back. “Under the chute.”

“Get out,” she said. “Move. Soldiers inbound. Lots of soldiers.”

Fuck, Kade thought. He grabbed at the release on his harness, pulled himself out of it, pushed at the canopy, crawled out.

“To your left, into the alley!” Sam’s voice came.

He came up on his feet, running. His left knee nearly collapsed underneath him in pain. He pushed, ran, teetering, off-balance.

Guns opened up. Displays in his mind painted arrows behind him, to his right. There were bullets ripping through the space above the ripple he’d made in the canopy as he’d climbed out of it.

He heard screams, felt pain flash out from minds in the crowd, as bullets meant for him slammed into innocent people.

Jesus.

Then he was in the deeper shadows, limping, stumbling as he ran, and something grabbed him.

He thrashed out.

“It’s me,” Sam whispered across the radio. “Go flush against the wall. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.”

Kade was panting. His heart was pounding.

He turned, put his back against the wall, pressed against it.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Watch the breath.

Oh Jesus.

Observe the mind.

Holy fucking hell.

Let the thoughts rise and pass away.

Shit shit shit.

Let the breath become all.

OK.

Let it slow.

Whew.

Let it deepen.

Let it absorb the attention.

Soldiers crossed his vision, running down the alley, shouting.

Breathe. Breathe.

The sounds of their shouts receded slowly into the distance.

F
eng strained
to make out the words on the radio. “w… reserve… land… stealth… now!”

Sam’s voice. And Kade’s. Not good.

“Override,” he told the wing. “Manual control.”

Warnings filled his vision as the wing protested.

“Override,” Feng said again. Then he seized the physical controls at his sides and pushed into a hard bank.

Alarms went off in his ears. More red warnings flared.

FLIGHT SPEED DROPPING.

ALTITUDE TOO LOW.

TRAJECTORY OFF COURSE.

DANGER: URBAN OBSTACLES.

Feng ignored them, banked hard, scanning.

“Radio,” he ordered. “Override,” he said, not even waiting for the Indian gear to complain.

“Kade!” he broadcast. “Sam!”

No response.

Skyscrapers swam back into view. He was dropping fast, his forward momentum bled off by his too-sharp turn. He scanned his eyes over the scene, quartering it.

Movement! Black canopy, dropping from the sky.

It disappeared between buildings, falling out of his view almost half a klick to the north.

Ay! Feng thought.

He banked again, starting another hundred and eighty degree turn, aiming to line up on the street where the canopy had gone down.

“Kade!” he broadcast again. “Sam!”

The skyscraper tops were just a hundred meters down now, lurid like Chinese New Year decorations, bright and colorful in the pale light before the sun.

Wind out of the north hit as he came around on his turn. He was coming in too slow, dropping too fast.

No way to make the next street.

Feng came in one street short of his goal. Or was it two?

He was even with the tops of the buildings now, bombarded on all sides by the neon colors and the moving adverts. Lu Song! That was Lu Song on that building hefting his spear!

“Rise, China!” the building yelled at him.

What the hell?

No time for that. He was at five hundred meters. Parachute height. Still dropping.

Feng put his hand around the cord, ripped it away, blew his chute open. He felt the drogue pop out, felt it catch air, felt it pull the rest of the folded chute out of his pack and into the sky behind him, and suddenly straps were grabbing him, holding him up more aggressively.

He looked up and back and there were thin black lines, almost imperceptible, leading up to a nebulous distortion in the sky above.

Clean open.

Feng released the bottom attachment points of the wing, let it pivot from his shoulders, sweeping out behind him, parallel to his plane of motion.

Then he reached up, grabbed the handles of the chute.

The streets were filled with people.

What he needed was a rooftop. A low roof, close to street level, large enough to land on.

There.

“
K
ade
, Sam.”

Kade blinked in surprise.

“Feng?” he transmitted.

“No,” Kade heard back in Feng’s voice. “I’m the boogey man. Yes, Feng! Over.”

Kade chuckled.

Sam looked up from where she was splinting his knee, her face a mix of amusement and horror, her visor and helmet next to her, on the floor of this store they’d broken into from the alley.

She picked up her helmet, held it to her face. “What’s your status, Feng?” she said quietly. “Over.”

There was a pause. Then Feng’s voice again.

“Status not where we want to be,” he said. “Looking down on a black reserve chute, lotta angry soldiers.” He paused. “Couple bodies. Over.”

Sam frowned, shook her head. “Roger. Did what I had to.” Her voice sounded strained to Kade’s ears. “Over.”

Kade clenched his jaw. She’d killed those men to save him.

“Yeah,” Feng said over the radio. He paused. “Send your twenty. Over.”

“Alley south from there,” Sam said. “Fourth door on the right. Lock’s broken off. Knock. Over.”

“Roger,” Feng said. “Out.”

“Sam…” Kade said. “Those soldiers you shot…”

“It was them or you, Kade,” Sam said, tightening the splint around his swollen knee. “You die…” She paused, then went on. “You die
now,
a whole lot more people die.”

Her voice was cold. Her fingers kept working at the high tech splint molding itself to Kade’s joint.

Then she shook her head. “Like I told you, some people deserve to die. Those guys? Wrong time, wrong place. But it needed doing. I’d do it again.”

She pulled hard on an adjustment strap, tightening the splint further.

“I’m sorry you had to,” Kade said quietly. “I know it sucks.”

“Yeah,” she looked up at him. “Sucks to be them. Sucks to be their wives. Sucks to be their kids.”

Then she stood up and looked down at him. “Just make it worth it, Kade.” She sounded tired. “For everybody.”

“
T
welve kilometers
,” Feng said. “That’s how far it is to target.”

Kade closed his eyes. Seven and a half miles. With the streets flooded with people, soldiers, tanks. And his knee banged up.

It would take hours.

Hours they didn’t have.

Feng projected a map onto their visors.

“Here,” he said. A red arrow appeared, two kilometers from the flag icon of Jiao Tong. “Rendezvous point. It’s a risk, but we can send a message via satellite to the rest of the team. Meet up when we get there. Enter Jiao Tong together. In case we need them.”

Kade could feel the tension in Feng’s mind. The uncertainty. He was headed to confront a program left behind by the woman who’d been his hero, his savior. To stop her from coming back into the world insane. He didn’t know what they’d be up against. But he feared the worst.

He feared his brothers.

Sam nodded. “OK.”

Kade put a hand on Feng’s shoulder. “Sounds good,” he said. “Let’s do it.”