The voice-com crackles on. “Agent Gamble, you have been identified as authorizing an unscheduled departure. Please report the reason for your—”
I fire my pistol, destroying the com. The voice cuts off with a dying whine. My next few moments are spent installing an override device into the engine computer, ensuring they cannot seize control of the train from Transit. It is only a matter of seconds before the operator overcomes his shock and scans the cargo. Alarms will blare, sirens will wail. They will come for me.
My gaze turns to the windows, where the surroundings blur alongside. Shadows whip by, much like the memories I was forced to abandon…
“I’m sorry, Franklin.”
I can only stare at Jack in trembling fury. The prison bars between us keep me from trying to tear him apart with my bare hands. I doubt that I could, even in my heated rage.
Jack was always a better fighter than me.
He voice is strained, his eyes downcast. “I wanted to see you. To let you know something has changed. I haven’t slept since that day. When they gave me the orders, I thought it was right thing. You were out of control. A traitor, rebelling against the Sovereign.”
Jack’s face is harrowed. Stubble litters his normally smooth cheeks, and his eyes are red-rimmed, a reflection of the blood he spilled.
“I was wrong. I took the only thing of value away from you because I was ordered to. Now…I see their faces when I close my eyes.”
I fold my arms to keep my hands from shaking. “Why tell me? I’d kill you if I had the chance. That was my family. My son and…my wife.”
I stumble over the last words. Jack knows full well I have spent more time in Ursula’s arms of late. I tell myself it is for the sake of appearance, but the lie rings hollow even in my own mind.
“You can kill me later. I’m sure you will, in fact.” He leans closer. “Listen. I’m scrambling this conversation. We can’t talk long, but…they’re going to indoctrinate you.”
I shrug. “I know.”
A hint of a smile crosses his face. “All part of the plan? I know all about it. In the event of your capture, you bet on them making an example of you instead of killing you outright.”
I freeze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about the ultimate gamble. The only way to get within their inner ranks again. If you convince them their program can rehabilitate someone like you, then you’ll be accepted again. And that’s when you’ll strike.”
I glare at Jack. “If you know all of this, then why haven’t you turned me in?”
Jack raises his head. “Don’t you understand? I can help you.”
“You?” I don’t bother to hide my scorn when I laugh. “No one will ever trust you after what you’ve done.”
“You can.” Jack’s face pleads desperately. “I’ve been experimenting. I’ve found a way to block the Sovereign’s signal. I’m…starting to see things differently. Thinking my own thoughts. This place is tearing apart, Franklin. It won’t be much longer before it crumbles regardless of what anyone does. But if we manage to free the population then we have a chance to survive the fallout.”
“You’re already on the inside, Jack. If you’ve had such a big change of heart, then you can do whatever needs to be done.”
Jack shakes his head. “You still don’t see what you’re doing wrong. If you had played your cards right, you might have overthrown the Chancellor. You might have even convinced Ursula to join you. For some reason she’s taken with you. But you don’t think things through, Franklin. You want everything now, without a thought to the consequences of your actions.”
Their bodies plummet like the last leaves of autumn …
“You need a network. A body of individuals who can operate on their own without direct supervision. People placed in every crevice of the infrastructure. That’s the key, Franklin. An empire is built by the people, not its leaders. It is the people who can topple an empire, not one man. And it is the people who will rebuild it.”
I shake my head. “The people are asleep, Jack! Their minds seized by whispers they can’t even hear. They’re blind to the strings guide their every move. It can’t be done. It’s foolishness to even consider.”
Jack presses his face against the bars. His eyes are feverish, his words burning with urgency. “When the people are fed lies every day, they forget how good the truth tastes. But all we have to do is remind them. It will take time to hack through the Gordian knot of deception they’ll tie inside of your mind. And while you fight to free yourself, I’ll be busy setting up the resistance.”
I laugh. The sensation drags across my throat like sandpaper, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you. I’m as good as dead, and you of all people want to tell me my grave is just a tunnel.”
Jack just nods in agreement. “Indoctrination isn’t death, Franklin. It’s only a type of sleep. And when a person sleeps, sooner or later he will have to do the only thing that comes natural.”
WA
KE
UP
Chapter 11
The train lurches as though something heavy has struck it. No doubt agents of the Sovereign tried a rocket attack. Fortunately, the heavy armor was constructed just for that type of assault in mind. The Coalition has long sought to cripple the Sovereign’s main source of transit. No expense was spared in thwarting that goal.
The Industrial Center is visible from the windshield. Inside are the drones: those listless, sleepwalking workers who drift through their tasks under the heavy influence of propaganda and subliminal indoctrination. I approach in my juggernaut of steel, cutting through the curtain of fog and smoke as light flares around me.
I have the full attention of the Sovereign. Their mammoth zeppelins beam spotlights, and military transports scurry alongside like children trying to keep up with their father. Warning lights flicker, and the sirens fill the air with their miserable wailing.
They can follow me. They can blind me with their phosphorus, and alert all of their agents to my presence. But they can no more stop me than one can stop a bullet once it is fired from the barrel.
I almost convince myself of that.
The shriek of metal on metal is almost unbearable; the wail of a thousand banshees boiled alive. I lurch forward, unprepared for the sudden death of motion. As my head splinters the windshield, sparks flood my vision; spiteful fireflies that let me know my gambit has failed. Transit has triggered a failsafe in the tracks themselves, they are activated to seize the train and hold until friction does the job of slowing and eventually bringing the iron behemoth to a staggering stop.
As my vision clears, I see the walls of the Industrial Center only yards away. Smoke billows across the surrounding area, smothering the flickering lights and anxious shouts like a bad dream. Blood trickles down my face and my chest is sore from ramming into the controls. I’m sure something is broken, but the pain is far away.
Much like my grand schemes.
The ruined doors wail in protest as they are forced open. Butcher shoves his way inside. He looks preposterous as ever when he snarls at me, looming larger and larger as he approaches.
“I knew it. I knew you were always a spineless traitor. I knew it in my gut. Finally I get the chance to—”
I cut off his delivery by firing my service pistol until all of the rounds are spent. Butcher collapses a yard away from me, his pasty face frozen in shock. I reload in time to point the firearm at Ursula, who follows shortly after. I knew she would.