Implanted (The Ascension Series Book 2) (17 page)

Chapter 43

THE OFFICE OF SECURITY

Edwin yawned and rubbed his dry eyes. Dots of color like the ones he’d been watching on his screen took shape beneath closed lids. He shook his head and waited for the spots to fade. After six straight hours of surveillance, however, he knew it would take more than a few head shakes to rid their presence.

He’d given his boys the night off to celebrate their recent cleansing of the city. Therefore, this morning he sat alone in his old seat and manned security just like the old days. Nine a.m. and the city was just coming to life, and for him, that meant the hour of random tagging. He chuckled as he toggled to the screen devoted to the Agora.  He had a love/hate affinity with this social hub. Thousands of residents gathered here daily and jumbled patches of color jumped quickly from one social outlet to another. On first inspection, the dynamic movement could seem rather random and chaotic and when watching for too long, the changing mix of color had the ability to induce sporadic bouts of nausea. However, like a puzzle, the more a trained eye studied the thermal images of the residents, the better the human dynamics unfolded.

Easy-going blues and greens morphed into fiery reds as temps rose within the walking sphere, but then eased back to a calmer tone, upon moving away from the warm center. He watched a blob join with others in a cluster. It was interesting to see some members of the group cool to a passive green, while others became even brighter as they radiated warmth. On the periphery, new love debuted with a pair of nervous green-rimmed orange shapes circling one another. He watched the temps rise from green to yellow and finally exploded to vibrant reds. Edwin shook his head and chuckled at the unsuspecting residents.

He ran a finger across a random splotch and waited for the stats to upload. After a brief pause, the resident’s name, generation, and status appeared. Then, after a blip of hesitation, full medical, spending, and familial history scrolled before Edwin’s eyes. He enjoyed the power he held in the tip of his finger, knowing that just a few floors down, Mr. Jones sat in the stunned paralysis of a human-esque holograph. The guy looked legit and Edwin released his finger.

“Go on, Mr. Jones. Have yourself a nice day.” Edwin chuckled again as color returned to the blob, and Mr. Jones’s image quickly skirted back into the walking circle.

The inkling of a headache Edwin had noticed a few hours ago had blossomed into a skull crusher, thanks to the cacophony of color hopping about across the screen. He knew better than to complain, though. It had taken twelve months of intense mentoring to get to this position, and he’d finally been given the key to the city. He snickered as he caught his own reflection in the monitor, appreciating his new green jacket. A West Wing condo was surely in his future.

Head Surveillance Officer.
A satisfied smile crossed his face. Who knows? Maybe one day he’d even don an official red jacket.

He sat back and pressed into his chair. The synthetic fibers stretched and reformed around his spine on a squeaky, plastic breath. He waved a hand over the acrylic tabletop, and a hidden door slid open revealing his personal compartment. Edwin grabbed one of the small vials lined up next to his belongings, popped off the lid, and sucked down the liquid contents. On an exhale, he closed his eyes and began the countdown. He started with ten, but by the time he reached five, the headache had already disappeared. His mouth curled into a smile.
Why suffer when you have access to the Council’s RX dispensary?

Feeling refreshed, Edwin turned his gaze back to the screen, lifted a hand, and swiped another unsuspecting blob. As he waited for the stats to load, he noticed a fiery red splotch charge toward his newest recipient until it hovered in the field. His heart jumped with excitement as he sensed an inkling of trouble unfolding. Keeping his finger tight to the screen waiting for the stats to load, he used his free hand to swipe the new arrival.

The stats of the first resident scrolled without much fanfare. An accountable East Wing Gen-3 whose parentage originated in Northern California. He removed one finger, releasing that resident and waited for the stats of the fireball to upload. When her name appeared, Edwin’s brows jumped and his eyes shot open.

Sarah Frances Monde. Generation-Four. Status: Unaccountable. Deceased.

“Well, hello, Rebel.” His voice squeaked with excitement. He double tapped the screen to hold her in paralysis and considered the accolades which might accompany such a catch. While envisioning the coveted red jacket, he juiced up the amperage controls. The high voltage would most likely knock her out, but it would also stop any other resident from crossing the field, thereby deeming it
Necessary
, and not
Excessive Force
.

“We don’t need any heroes in the Agora today.”

Just as he had been trained, Edwin toggled to his com screen, sounded the alert icon and awaited the response team. The seconds ticked by with cruel silence. The toe of his shiny boot drummed on the acrylic flooring while his eyes remained locked on the screen.

Finally, the door to the security chamber hummed open. He flicked his gaze to the opening for a quick nod, and was greeted with another surprise. Although he had expected to be met by a few Red Jackets, he never dreamed they’d bring with them the man in black.

“Mr. Marcus. Uh, Sir …” Edwin stood and stammered like a school boy, and then cringed at his own flustered demeanor.

Marcus barely flicked a gaze in Edwin’s direction as he stepped up to the screen. Edwin moved aside and allowed the old man to take his seat. Marcus settled in before the screen and sat like a statue as the Rebel’s stats scrolled. Without turning his head or uttering a sound, he lifted an arm and snapped his fingers. A red-jacketed subordinate quickly moved to his side and Marcus spoke.

“Zoom in, please.”

His assistant tapped the screen a few times until the blob grew large enough that Edwin could clearly read the words from where he now stood in the corner of the office. SARAH FRANCES MONDE. GENERATION FOUR. UNACOUNTABLE. DECEASED.

“The rat must have been hiding in the vents this whole time,” Marcus growled. “Well, that’s about to end, my dear.”

Marcus swiveled in his chair and turned to face the men in the room. “Gentlemen, what you are about to witness is the end to our biggest problem. As you know, this Rebel has brought much heartache to our city with her false claims of the Epoch.”

He turned back to the screen. “Julias, turn up the power.”

Edwin jumped forward, pleased he’d already instituted the appropriate maneuver. “Sir, I’ve already set the voltage to 65%.  Even Gillius couldn’t have broken that field,” Edwin let out a nervous chuckle as he referenced the deceased Forfeiture.

Although he barely shifted his gaze, Edwin felt the sharp edges of Marcus’s glare dice at his words. Thousands of lines coursed through the aged face, and as the corner of his pale lips lifted, a sneer grew from the thick skin. With his eyes still on Edwin, Marcus responded.

“100%, Julias.”

Edwin cringed. 100% meant certain death. Of course, he didn’t doubt they should rid the city of this Rebel’s evil. However, high voltage microwave was a cruel way to end a life.

Julias reached across Marcus and swiped the voltage. The indicator displayed the output, and Edwin watched as the numbers climbed. As he did, another fiery red blob began to race toward her.

“What do we have here? A hero?” Marcus muttered.

On instinct Edwin swiped the newcomer.
Peter Katigoruminous. Generation-Four. Deceased.

Julias flinched.

“I thought we got rid of him.” Marcus sneered.

“I thought so too, Sir,” Edwin replied while tapping the screen to hold the new Rebel.

“Two Rebels on the same day. Something’s not right.”

“What’s this?” Marcus touched the screen as a new color emerged. In a breath, a third set of stats appeared.

BENJAMIN LEIBEN, PH.D. GENERATION ONE. DECEASED.

“What?” Marcus spun around in his chair. “That’s impossible.” He motioned to Edwin. “Is this some sort of joke?”

Edwin cowered and stuttered. He didn’t know of any Benjamin Leiben, but was very familiar with the look of death in Marcus’s eyes.

“Sir!” Julias pointed to the screen and Marcus turned back.

They all watched in stunned silence as the blob marked Benjamin Leiben merged with Sarah Monde and the two became a double-leaf clover. Together their shape began to move away from the perimeter.

“Follow him.” Marcus growled. “I want to see where this imposter goes.”

Julias swiped the voltage icon, and as the power field decreased, the surrounding crowd of color began to move about.

Edwin reached over to release the second Rebel.

“Not him,” Marcus sneered. “I have plans for him.”

The men in the room remained glued to the screen as they witnessed the mark of Benjamin Leiben move away from the Agora and toward the West Wing. He crossed each automated security check with ease and finally, upon stepping into the lift, his color faded.

“Change screens,” Marcus demanded.

Edwin hurried over and toggled through five or six screens, wishing his security crew had been on staff at the moment. When the images finally illuminated, however, the lifts were bare.

“It’s just not possible,” Marcus grumbled. After a lengthy silence, he stood and faced Edwin.

“Our highest priority, until further notice, is to find Benjamin Leiben and the Rebel, Sarah Monde. Let no stone go unturned.” Marcus turned on his heels and exited the room, trailed by four men with red jackets. As they breezed through the doorway, Marcus added, “And bring the other Rebel to me.”

On a shaky exhale, Edwin returned to his seat. His hand trembled as he lifted it to the screen. With one hundred separate camera readouts and thousands of residents, this task would need every ounce of manpower beneath him.

He pulled out his com device. Time to round up the troops.

Chapter 44

RETTER

The Ranch loomed up ahead—enclosed in glass and marked with the words
Post Prime Adult Care Center
in white script across the doors. As he neared the entrance, a red light flashed. The doors whooshed open.

An oversized man in worker’s clothes stood with his back to Ret. He jumped upon hearing the commotion, then turned and reached for a small black device tucked into his belt. Narrowed eyes gleamed.
Fear? Hatred?
It didn’t matter.
They were one in the same.

His gaze flicked from Ret’s face to Wolf.

“Impossible,” he growled. “Who are you?”

“My name is Retter.”

“Those doors do not open without proper authority.
Who
are you?”

Ret continued to move, undaunted by the worker’s questioning. “Apparently,” he answered, “I’m the
Proper Authority
.”

“So you say. You’ll need to wait here while I get clearance.”

“Nope. I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

Retter charged down the corridor with echoes from the guard’s threats following him.

He moved with an instant intuition and recognition of the layout, taking a left and then two rights to the venting where he’d first entered the city. A set of eyes peered out from the darkness.

The kids were safe.

Pete.

“You guys okay?”

“Yes.” Erin acted as the spokesperson.

“I’m scared.” Jamie’s voice squeaked.

Ret eased Wolf onto the floor and on a shaky knee, knelt next to the vent. With a swipe of his hand, the mesh slid open and Ret waved the kids forward.

Jamie looked around. “Where’s Pete?” Her eyes blinked against the harsh lighting.

Ret put a finger to his lips indicating the need to remain quiet and, after lifting Wolf from the ground, motioned for them all to follow.

He stood before the panel and looked directly into the lens. A light flashed into his eyes and Ret jerked away from the technology. Although this world didn’t know who Ret truly was, this piece of intelligence installed by his father knew the truth.

A synthetic voice emitted from the wall. “
Dr. Benjamin Leibin. Enter.
”

He was the son of the creator. And with that, came the full authority to move through this portal at will. The panel slid open and Retter, along with the line of children, wound around the sleeping guard before huddling onto the tiny lift. Ret looked down at the tops of five soiled heads with his heart in his throat.

The doors slid together and sealed them all into the tiny box. Before anyone could even pull in another breath, they were lifted from the depths. The doors pulled apart.

To blue skies framing the brilliant sun as it lifted from the mountains to announce morning.

The children squealed and giggled as they ran from the lift and twirled in the grasses of the prairie. In the distance, Ret heard a shout and lifted his gaze to the tree line where a woman tore away from the waiting crowd. She raced toward the children with open arms and a wail sounded from her soul.

Erin, who had been inspecting the grass below her feet, lifted her head and released a wild shriek, “Mama!”

Wolf moaned, and Ret’s arms shook as limped from the floor of the lift and laid her onto the velvety grass.

Her lids drew open and she lifted a hand to block the bright sunlight. “Did we make it?” she asked on a raspy whisper.

“Yes Wolf.” Ret responded. “You’re home.”