Son of Sedonia (35 page)

“Stay quiet, little brother,” the young voice whispered, “I got’chu.”

Jo
.

The sunlit halo around his brother spread until all was white. As the blindness faded from his weeping eyes, Matteo found himself back in Illyk’s chair. The shackles clicked open and the head-tentacles retracted. Illyk, Simon, and all of the technicians in the room gathered around the chamber, staring at him. He wanted to hide. To shrink into a deep, dark hole somewhere and come out maybe five years later.

Suddenly, strange text files, blueprints, and photographs appeared on screens around the room.
Some kind of ship...
Beyond massive in the half glow of the curved Earth beneath it, the body looked almost whale-shaped. Miles of solar panels lined its broad, flat wing arrays. Giant glass domes punctuated both the back and the underbelly, housing every biosphere on the planet. And millions of pin-point windows covered the hull.

Without reading the screens, fresh memories bubbled up into Matteo’s awareness. ‘
The Narayana.’ Total Occupancy: 2.8 million persons. Top speed: 99.9992% SOL. Destination: Gliese 581g. Distance to Target: 20.26 LY. Projected Launch Date: 09-2090AD.

“My God...” Simon said, “They’re gonna—”

“Leave us all to
rot!
Ho-ly SHIT!” Illyk shouted, “We got ‘em! Dead to fuckin’ rights,
we got ‘em!
” Excited laughter broke out all over the room. Matteo willed himself to sit up, but his head rolled into a mat of fuzz. He almost passed out.

“Whoa, whoa, buddy! I bet that was rough...but don’t worry man, ‘cause everything’s about to change! We’re gonna put this out on every channel we can think of. Hell, we’ll project it on the sky over Mesa-fucking-Park!”

Matteo heaved his throbbing head up and saw the control panel. The memory cartridge.

“No...” Matteo muttered. He yanked the head-tentacles off, killing the streaming data. Then, in one quick move, his hand shot out and grabbed the memory cartridge from its port. The laughter died in an instant, replaced by the click of Simon’s pistol.

“Now, you got what you came for, Aden,” Illyk said, “You’ve seen more truth about yourself than most people ever should, but we had a deal. Give us the stick, and you can walk away. Don’t, and...well...”

They’d never let him walk away. They would parade him through the streets for their ‘cause,’ and plaster his name all over the Net. A rallying cry that would destroy the City of his dreams, replacing it with...what?
These people?
His palm sweated as it gripped the digital sum total of his life, and the secret stored within.

BOOOOOM!

The entire cabin shook, throwing Illyk and his people off balance. Lights flickered and several monitors fell off of their mounts and smashed on the bulkhead. Matteo stumbled, but seized the moment. He launched his shoulder into Simon’s chest, wrenched the gun out of the man’s thick hands, and rolled out of the way. The group lunged for him then stopped, facing the barrel of the gun. Matteo kept it trained on them as he crept backward to the hatch door.

“This is my life,” Matteo said, holding up the cartridge, “Use your own for your ‘Cause.’” He opened the hatch. Sounds of chaos spilled inside.

“Kid, you’re making a mistake! Didn’t you hear your old man, he said—”

Matteo interrupted Illyk with a warning shot.

“Don’t follow me!” He jumped outside, slammed the hatch shut, and twisted the lever as hard as he could. As he got his bearings, he saw a column of ink-black smoke rising toward the sky. Sirens, screams, and shouting filled the air.

Spotting the opening in the path, he sprinted for it, bounding over the thick cables in the dirt. He’d almost made it to the opening when he heard the IG-6 hatch door slam open behind him. The familiar near-miss shriek of speeding bullets surrounded him. He tucked his arms and head toward his chest, then dove through the opening as rounds tore shrapnel off its metal frame.

Following the cables out was harder than he’d thought coming in. They curved down paths he hadn’t seen, split into several directions. He turned a right he thought he remembered. It dead-ended into a transformer box. With the violent shouts growing louder, he looked up into the hollow framework of the facility. Started climbing.

The labyrinth of multicolored supports, braces, and beams made picking a clear direction impossible.
Gotta get distance
. The same advice the vets would give young Nines for being chased into a strange district. ‘
Don’t worry about where you’re going. Just go
.’ He wove through the columns and swung over gaps. Climbed around generator hubs and over groups of sprinting workers. Before long, he realized that no one nearby was concerned about him anymore. They all ran in one direction. Matteo paused to breathe the acid out of his lungs, then climbed through to the top of the super structure.

Half of the sky toward the Border had turned black with smoke, filling his nose with the smell of burned synthetics. Then, eyes drifting downward, he saw it. No more than five miles away, a jagged, freighter-wide wound gouged through the Border in a giant ‘V’ shape. Glimpses of the Rasalla District beyond peeked through the billowing smoke. Matteo’s jaw dropped. Paralysis gripped his body, locking him in a blank stare.
They did it. It’s happening.

“Corey! Corey, get the fuck down here, let’s go!” said a female voice carried by the wind. Matteo blinked. Others had emerged all over the rooftops, towers, and landing pads of the Outer Ring. Everyone faced the Border.

“Corey!” screamed the voice that had to be Liani. Matteo scanned nearby and saw Corey’s chunky silhouette climb clumsily over a catwalk ledge. The man struggled to his feet and lifted a handheld camera. But the wind carried another sound to Matteo. A kind of low background noise that got louder. And louder. And louder. Then it was a roar. Thousands of voices chanting in unison.

The wave of shock dissolved into needle-flesh all over Matteo’s skin, waking his throbbing limbs. He sprang up, picked his route to Corey, and took off across the complex.

“Corey RUN!” He waived his arms then leaped to catch the next ledge. Pulled himself up to face Corey. Still filming. Matteo grabbed the camera and stared his new, dumbfounded friend in the face.

“
Rasalla is coming!
” said Matteo. As Corey opened his mouth to speak, a shockwave slammed into both of them.

BOOOOM! BOOOOM! B-BOOOOOOM!

Knocked flat on the catwalk, Corey pushed Matteo off of him. Both sat up. Columns of smoke and giant boulders of falling concrete rained down throughout the Outer Ring. Three fresh fractures had punched through the Border to join the first. Corey shouted above the ringing in Matteo’s ears.

“Okay, we can go!”

As they turned for the climb down, Corey’s van sidled up to the ledge, blasting them backward with exhaust. Liani at the wheel. The rear passenger hatch hissed open.

“You have five fucking seconds to get the fuck in the fucking van!” Liani shouted through the PA.

“Jesus...” Corey said.

“NOW!” she shouted. The two of them fell over each other to climb inside. Matteo barely got his foot through the door before the hatch snapped closed. The van bobbed hard and lurched up into the sky.

“About time,” Liani said, “Now quit dicking around back there and get a shot of
that!
” She pointed out the window. Matteo handed the camera back to Corey, and the two of them clung to the seats to take a look.

Streaks of gunfire waived through the smoke in sweeping curves. Thousands of muzzle flashes crept along the ground in front of four smoldering gaps in the Border. Fresh explosions popped off throughout the Outer Ring. Flames licked up toward the van. Then, from the ashen plumes emerged ships. A fleet of them...all shapes and sizes. Matteo recognized names spray-painted on their hulls in giant red letters.

‘Falari.’

‘Alati.’

‘Temple.’

‘Rasalla.’

‘Jogun.’

‘Matteo.’

38

Calling

10 minutes earlier

THE TRAIL WENT
cold at the apartment. Without the kid’s RFID signal, it was a miracle they’d even tracked them this far. Especially true given the state of the nightclub manager’s staff records and his ‘not without a court order’ attitude toward sharing them with a ‘Fed.’ It had taken till morning to wake up a judge to sign off on it.

The background check on the girl was another kick in Kabbard’s nuts. Liani Ray. Ex-reporter for Globometro. The possibility of fulfilling his quick and quiet mandate was getting more screwed by the minute. He surveyed the craphole one-bedroom studio with exhausted eyes. Coffee left to cool in the pot. Tousled sheets and laundry scattered around the floor. Dishes crusted with red-orange food matter and glasses with cheap pink wine dried to the bottom.
Amazing that a woman lives here
. The thought made him feel old. Older.

Andreas crouched next to a sticky blue puddle on the carpet, gathering a sample with a metal pipette. The attached machine beeped.

“Got a match,” Andreas said.
More great news. Here and gone again.
Kabbard was beyond tired. Like a reanimated corpse begging to go back to the void.
Chasing some kid all over the City...for what?
So Sato could suddenly grow a conscience? An old, familiar thought floated back to the surface. ‘
None of it means a damn thing.’ Six years down the drain.

“Any ideas about the third guy?” Kabbard asked as Nicks came out of the bedroom.

“Third guy?” Nicks asked. Kabbard wondered if these two clowns had any kind of conventional training whatsoever. Beyond online searches or friend posts on Neu.

“Ms. Ray does not own a vehicle, correct?”

“According to her file, no she doesn’t,” answered Andreas, “Meaning she either took the Superway home or someone gave her a ride. Had she scanned her RFID on the superway, we would have picked up the trace, so there has to be at least a third accomplice. If not more.”

Smart ass
.

“Contact Globometro,” Kabbard said, “See if anyone quit or was fired the same time as her termination. Kirnden’s a lap dog, he’ll be more than happy to help.”

BOOOOM! The unmistakable sound of a distant explosion cut the air. Plates and glasses throughout the apartment clinked softly together from the vibration as Kabbard felt the building sway around him. He bolted for the door.

Throughout the cramped halls, people emerged from their doors with confused looks. They started rifling through their Neural feeds, searching for any late-breaking explanation. Kabbard sprinted past them to the nearest landing deck access. Outside on the platform, several residents stood motionless, recording the images on the horizon and gabbing amongst themselves. The pale stripe of the Border wall, barely visible from this deep in the City, had been split. Divided now by a column of burning smoke. A chorus of sirens rose from the eerie, whispering quiet, echoing throughout every sector in every direction.

Kabbard scanned the deck for the Zeus. His body flushed with long-forgotten purpose as he took off running for it.

BOOOOM! BOOOOM! B-BOOOOOOM!

“Everyone back inside! BACK INSIDE!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. The people around him flinched at the voice and scurried away. With three lunging strides, he arrived at the Zeus, leaped onto the landing gear steps, and yanked the canopy release open. Andreas and Nicks caught up to him, panting with their hands on their knees.

“You guys comin’?” asked Kabbard. He dropped himself in the cockpit, strapped in, and ran through the start-up procedure, flicking switches and pulling levers in a speeding blur.

“No, sir, we can’t!” shouted Andreas, “
You
can’t! Sato needs us to—”

“Didn’t think so! Now I have absolute faith in you Andreas, vicious little cunt that you are, to do everything Mr. Sato requires! In fact, for your first act as the new Chief of Security, pass the man a message for me!” Kabbard extended his middle finger as hard as he could as the hatch door closed and sealed. He fired the engines, grinning as he saw the blast of hot air blow Andreas and Nicks back on the deck.

The grin faded. Through the windshield, he saw tracer rounds and anti-aircraft fire streak through the sky against a backdrop of solid smoke. He couldn’t believe it. He always knew it. As he squeezed the throttle to maximum, his teeth clenched.
The War...My War...
A very real pang of fear struck him, then soaked in. He had almost forgotten the taste of it. But this was different.
This is it.

39

Hell

THE AIR WAS
on fire, full of hot ash and dust. In his dulled ears, Jogun heard his choked, ragged breaths in between the thumps of cannon fire and artillery. Gun shots and whizzing near-misses sounded soft against the fuzz. The vibration of his EXO rig fell into a super-human rhythm as he leaped over concrete and twisted rebar. It was hard to trust the gear, especially since it was launching him deeper into Hell.