Swan Song (Book Three of the Icarus Trilogy) (26 page)

“I’m not trying to compare myself to the guy, I’m not his level, but it’s like Jenkins.  We’re both recognizable.  If I fight alongside him, or at least go on operations
as
Eric Jones, that’ll carry some weight,” Eric said as he stood up out of the chair and then set his arms on the oak desk.  “The former spokesperson for the entire gaming system would be
fighting
against
the Trade Union.  I know Jenkins and Carver are propaganda, Tom.  They fight when they can, but you won’t really let them since they’re so important.  Let me be part of that,
but on the front lines
.  Right now I’m just drinking myself to death.  I’d rather take a bullet.  I don’t mind sacrificing myself like that.  So many better people have already done so much more,” Eric said, pleading his case to the former leader of the revolution.  With that last statement his thoughts were with Jamie Caswell.  Eric owed his life, owed his service, to that man’s ideals.

Thomas looked the celebrity over and actually let out a soft laugh.  The youth and vigor of Eric Jones were exactly like his students all those years ago.  His mood darkened as he remembered the blood flooding the streets of St. Louis, but if Eric wanted to sacrifice himself in this war it wouldn’t be in vain.  The celebrity had a point.  If he fought, he would be a small contributor to the effort; if he died, he would become a powerful martyr.  Atlas cleared his throat and looked at the sheet of paper in front of him before flicking his gaze up to the earnest man still clinging to his desk.  It seemed like the celebrity wanted a lasting legacy, as well.  Thomas sighed and let his face fall into that sad smile.

“What do you want for your weapon specialty?”

-

“This is extremely helpful.  Well, if it’s true,” Goldstein said from the other end of the line.  Zachary had given Maxwell an encrypted communicator that, while it wouldn’t transmit location and was rerouted by twenty satellites, would allow for the two of them to talk throughout the day.  It was a good thing, too, because the bureaucrat had plenty of information to give to the revolution.

“I can’t exactly promise that,” Garrison said as he looked down at his gut.  He had acquired it through age, and even with dieting it had never gone away.  Constance had tried to get him on plenty of diets, but the older man had consistently cheated.  At the memory, Maxwell felt another surge of anger towards Jasper Montgomery.  He didn’t feel bad at all for cheating his employer.  “But that’s what I’ve gleaned from internal memos.”

“Well, if Montgomery is allocating the resources to throw the EOSF towards Gaia and Osmos next week, that means we can focus on intercepting with our EOSF defectors, possibly take over the asteroids they left behind.  We knew it would happen, but if you’re right on the ‘when,’ we could possibly knock out even more support,” Goldstein said as he blew his nose.  Garrison thought it was rather rude of the revolutionary, but he reminded himself not to expect that kind of decency from Goldstein.

“Thus why I told you.  I think it’ll be a good idea to shift things around.  And how many defectors do you have in orbit?” Maxwell asked, curious as to how powerful the EFI really was.

“Oh, Max, I can’t tell you that!  We still aren’t entirely sure that you’re on the right side.  I will say that we have some EOSF.  I will say that some of those are undercover,” Goldstein said with a chuckle.  Garrison imagined the middle-aged man was giving one of his sly smiles on the other end.

“You, Zachary, are a font of information.  It is a wonder how you’ve managed as long as you have,” Maxwell said in resignation.  He didn’t expect Zachary to trust him yet, but it was getting rather tiring.  Goldstein had checked out the bureaucrat’s story and it checked out, but the revolutionary was still wary.

“I try, Max, I really do.  Do you have anything else for me?” Zachary asked, obviously writing things down on the other end.  Garrison sighed at that; he really had little to contribute.  The only thing left to mention was what worried him the most.

“At some point, Zachary, I need to be able to give something to Montgomery.  Right now I’m telling him about the defecting revolutionaries, but it’s not going to be enough in a few weeks.  The tyrant is starting to get anxious, and when he gets anxious people die.  He’s going to expect a meeting, soon.”

“He’s going to have to wait,” Goldstein said with a scoff.

“Jasper Montgomery doesn’t wait, Zachary.  He might bide his time, but he has owned the entire world for about thirty years.  He’s going to expect results soon, or he will fire me,” Maxwell said in a serious tone.  He wasn’t lying.  There was a strict timeline to this and soon Montgomery would lose his patience.  Maxwell could hear Goldstein sighing on the other end.

“That makes sense.  I’ll try to get something going in a bit.  Maybe mention to him that you need more time and that you’re going after smaller factions.  I can give you some undercover defectors.  But as far as the big meet goes,” Zachary said before Maxwell heard the man flipping through pages of paper.  “I cannot guarantee anything.  At the very best, I think it might be good to have it after these troop movements.  I would like to have a stronger hold over Orbit Space.”

“Do you think that’s possible?” Maxwell asked, honestly hoping that it was.  He didn’t know the logistics of it, but Garrison didn’t expect the Earth Freedom Initiative to take such a monumental step so soon.

“It.... could happen.  Most likely we’ll see some fireworks up there.  It’s a bit of a gamble, really,” Goldstein said, clearly slipping from his air of skepticism.  The way they were talking now, Zachary really did think of Maxwell as one of them.  Garrison felt pride in himself for the acceptance.

“Would you give odds on that, Zachary?” Maxwell said, chuckling at his own joke.  He knew that Goldstein had operated as a bookie for the staff back at the Crows’ barracks.

“I honestly don’t want to jinx it, Max.  And if you’re right about this allocation, well.... Nope, not gonna do it.  I’ll submit it to the guys and we’ll see what happens,” Goldstein said, shifting the weight of the decision to the men in charge.  Maxwell couldn’t blame him.

He knew the guilt that came with losing everything.

-

Charles Kane sat in a wooden chair in the warehouse.  It had been a few days since their supposedly peaceful protest.  It had been a few days since the EOSF Station had been destroyed by the EFI and the people of Babylon saw the power of Ryan Jenkins and his friends.

It had been a few days since Charles Kane had watched Louie die because he was too stupid to run away.

The accountant had gone back to the site and looked at the bloodstains left by his friend.  The body had been taken to the morgue and incinerated.  In these days of revolution, the city didn’t bother to wait for friends and relatives to identify the body.  They just took pictures, storing them on disk, and then recycled the organic matter from the steady flow of bodies.  Charles had never been able to say goodbye.  All he had been able to do was stare at the dark spot in the asphalt where Louie had died.

On his way back to the warehouse, Charles had seen a white poster board sticking out of a nearby trashcan.  He walked over to it and found the sign he had made. 
A Return To Justice
.  He remembered that Louie had really liked that one and had taken it for the protest.  It was the same sign he had pointed at the EOSF officers as they prepared to gun him down.

Charles felt an attachment to the piece of paper, staring it down while he sat in the warehouse.  It had been very quiet in the days after the protest.  No one really knew how to react to what had happened.  Mr. Kane had led them into a death trap, but they didn’t blame him for it.  They just felt aimless now that they knew peaceful protest wasn’t going to work.  Not when the establishment was so willing to kill unarmed men just because they didn’t agree with the status quo.

The sign was staring back at him.  Charles read the words over and over again. 
A Return to Justice
.  He had written the words and thought them poetic.  Charles thought he was being clever.  The problem was that being clever didn’t help his friend from dying.  Louie had looked up to Charles and the accountant had repaid him with a nice sign and a chance to die.

A Return to Justice
.

Suddenly the words meant something entirely different to Charles.  Now all he wanted was justice.  He wanted justice for his lost friend.  He wanted justice for the society that should have existed but had been destroyed by power politics and greed.  He wanted justice for his lost daughter, his lost dreams, his lost idealism, his lost happiness, his lost hope.

He gave into his anger and felt ravenous for justice for the whole world.  Earth was a mess and peaceful protests weren’t going to cut it.  The establishment would just kill them.  They had to be made an example.  Charles Kane could no longer live a life where these kinds of crimes could go unpunished.  The system didn’t work anymore, it had caused the death of his friends and his daughter, and the only thing he wanted was justice.

It was time for violence.  It was time for the civilians of this city to take back their streets with force.  Charles Kane wanted to destroy the evil in Babylon, and if necessary he would use evil to do it.  The time for idealism, for heroes, was gone for Charles.  Perhaps it had never existed.  Charles Kane realized that there was no return to justice.  Justice had never truly existed in Charles’ lifetime.

He would have to make his own.

“Everyone,” he stated, his voice loud and declarative.  It seemed to shock the confused dissidents milling about and all eyes fell on him.  Charles stood up from his chair and looked over his audience.  After just a glance, it became apparent that these people were sheep.  They always had been.  Charles Kane only felt slightly guilty that he would have to use these people.  Otherwise his hunger for justice would never be satiated.

“Who remembers Louie?  Who remembers Dustin, Johnny and Henry?  I remember them.  I remember how they used to smile.  I remember how we all used to talk about what we would do when this bloody revolution was over.  They were happy times, thinking about how we could take down the Trade Union with a few signs.  Show Jasper Montgomery that the normal people wouldn’t stand for his behavior,” he said as he shifted his gaze among the crowd.  They were all enraptured by his words.  Charles was glad for his background in the debate team in college.

“But that age of idealism died with our friends.  It’s clear that the EOSF has no intention to respect a coddled, weak and passive populace.  We have to show them that we can destroy things just as well as the EFI.  But while the Earth Freedom Initiative has to maintain an air of legitimacy,” Charles said as he started to raise the volume of his voice.  He felt a rush to his spirit as his audience clung to every word.  Charles Kane was finding out what it was like to feel true power over men and he didn’t quite realize that he liked it.

“We don’t!  They killed our friends, ladies and gentlemen!  They killed our friends who did nothing but wave signs and point at them.  Where’s the threat in that?!  Where’s the danger in a few signs!”

“THERE ISN’T ANY!” Charles shouted at the top of his lungs.  Adrenaline surged through him in his exaltation.  His audience was completely ensnared by his speech and Charles could see them starting to breathe faster and heavier.  Just by watching him and hearing him they were starting to feel that same hunger for revenge.  “There isn’t any and they gunned down Louie, Dustin, Johnny and Henry anyway!  And if that’s the CASE!” he yelled as he jumped up on the nearby table and looked down on his subordinates.  “Then I think it’s high time that we start playing by the same rules.  The EFI can fight fair.  We will take back our streets however we can.  We will show Jasper Montgomery that he needs to fear the common people.  We are not sheep!” he yelled at his audience, who were cheering along with him, not realizing the irony.

Charles would have his vengeance.  It was the only thing left.

-

Templeton growled as he walked through headquarters.  He had been in a foul mood ever since Jenkins had put him in his place in the briefing room.  It was made even worse when the messiah figure had been right; Darius was shamed and proven wrong.  Templeton remembered the days when he held power in the EFI, back when it was about freeing Eris and all the slaves.  Darius had spent years developing the right cover and then suffered so many deaths just so that he wouldn’t be traded away from the Crows.

When he bumped into a civilian on his way to the briefing room he almost snapped the man’s arm.  Darius held so much rage within him that even accidental contact was enough to cause thoughts of violence.  He snarled, not even bothering to speak with the inconsequential revolutionary, and continued on his way.  What bothered him the most was that perhaps he was just as useless.

Darius could hear his artificial eye turning in its socket.  He was grateful for the ability to see, but the ambient sounds frustrated the revolutionary.  It kept him on edge, which only hurt his ability to maintain his temper.  He remembered when the plastic shards had burst into his eye during that last confrontation on Eris.  Darius blamed Jenkins for all of that.  The messiah figure had made so many decisions that day that Templeton had hated.  They were the wrong ones, but Jenkins had become the hero and Darius was practically a bench-warmer.