Revolt Page 3

  He reached over and turned on the desk lamp. “Good afternoon to you too.”

  “Everyone in the Resistance is in prison. Why did they let you out?”

  “Can’t we discuss this over lunch?”

  She shook her head.

  “Okay, fine. Why do you think I was in prison?”

  “Madalyn said I was responsible for putting you there.”

  “To that I’d say consider the source, but she was probably your only source, right? And why do you think it was your fault?”

  “Because I told them where to find you.” She was going to slam the door, but he threw out a hand to block her.

  “Hang on a minute, Careen. Listen. Madalyn lied. How can you be to blame for something that never happened?”

  “Yes, it did too happen. Otherwise why would she reward me with pretty clothes and let me sleep in a beautiful room?” She read the look on his face as revulsion, dropped her gaze to the floor and tried, more gently this time, to shut the door.

  “Jeez. Come on, don’t lock yourself in again.” He moved the chair. “Come out.”

  She obeyed, eyes still cast down, and kept the gun concealed behind her back.

  “Are you hungry?”

  She shook her head.

  “Well, I’m starving. I can go to the kitchen and bring something back. Maybe you’ll change your mind and eat a little.”

  She shrugged.

  “Okay.” She didn’t pull away when he ran his fingers down her arm and squeezed her hand. “I’ll just be a few minutes. Stay here. Everything’s all right. Count on it.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him leave. As soon as the door shut behind him she picked up the comforter, put it back on the bed, and concealed the gun under one of the pillows. Tommy wanted to trust her, and that gave her an advantage. She was still being held against her will, but she’d learned a thing or two. She’d never be without some kind of weapon again.

  2:30 PM

  Quadrant DC-025

  Kevin submitted to a perfunctory pat down before he was admitted to the prison, hoping the guards wouldn’t sense his trepidation. If Madalyn ever found out that he was part of the Resistance, he’d be lucky if he ended up in a cell. More likely, he’d disappear and no one would ever hear from him again.

  He wondered if he’d have to speak to Jezz on one of those telephones with her on one side of bulletproof glass and himself on the other. He’d only seen her one other time, from behind the glass wall at PeopleCam studios.

  A guard walked Kevin down the hall to an interrogation room. “That gal’s been a-hollering to talk to someone from the OCSD since she got here last night.” Kevin stood, his leg jiggling nervously, until another guard brought Jessica Catecher, handcuffed and dressed in an orange prison jumpsuit, into the room. He shackled her to a cleat on the table.

  Kevin dismissed the guard, and when the door had closed, he took the seat across from her. He’d meant to inquire about how she was being treated, but she didn’t give him a chance.

  “What happened to my daughter?”

  “She hasn’t been located.”

  “Good. Now get me out of here.”

  “Mrs. Catecher—”

  “Call me Jezz.”

  “Jezz, then, that’s not why I’m—”

  Her chains clinked against the table as she leaned toward him. “I’ll tell you everything. They sent a limo to my house to pick me up. I met with Tommy Bailey and some other guy in a suit. Didn’t get his name though. Said I was at their secret headquarters and the guy in the suit was with Internal Affairs for the OCSD—like you people have an Internal Affairs department, am I right? So I called him on it, and he admitted they were Resistance, and they were going to rescue my daughter because the OCSD was holding her captive and torturing her. It would have seemed heartless to refuse to help, so what else could I do? When I saw her, she was dressed nice and didn’t look like she was beat up too bad. Maybe they were exaggerating. How could I know? But I did what I agreed to do. They tricked me. You’re the assistant director of the OCSD, aren’t you? You must have the power to get me released.”

  He stammered, and her eyes narrowed. “Something tells me this whole thing was an inside job, if you know what I mean. Dollars to doughnuts, the Resistance has a spy at the OCSD. Maybe more than one. Maybe even in a top position.”

  Kevin blanched. “Mrs. Catecher, I don’t have the authority to release you, but I’ll take your request to the director.” He stood and knocked on the door.

  She raised her voice. “Then let me talk to the head honcho. Get Madalyn Davies in here.”

  Before he could reply, the guard opened the door, and he hurried out without looking back. He broke into a sweat as he strode down the long corridor. Jezz knew just enough to throw suspicion his way. If she was released, there was no telling what she’d say to the press, or anyone else who would listen. He hesitated outside the chief of security’s door and mustered the resolve to knock.

  Once admitted, he closed the door behind him and spoke as though he expected to be obeyed. “No more visitors for that prisoner. Keep her away from the other inmates. She’s manipulative and dangerous—and a flight risk. Yeah. In fact,” he gave the man a pointed look, “I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that she was shot while trying to escape. Do you understand what I mean?”

  They locked eyes for a moment and the chief of security nodded. Kevin, already hating himself, turned and left the room.

  2:40 PM

  Quadrant DC-005

  Tommy stretched the kinks out of his back as he headed down the hall to the kitchen. The chair in which he’d spent the night had been a poor substitute for the bed in his room. Still, one night of discomfort seemed like a small sacrifice compared to what Careen had been through.

  There was no time to cook a hot meal, so he grabbed a few yogurt cups from the fridge and put them on a tray with bottled water, energy drinks, a couple of oranges, and some granola bars. He was so focused on hurrying back to Careen that he jumped when Atari’s voice rang out from Command Central.

  “Hey!”

  Tommy stepped into the room, where his and Careen’s images still dominated the largest television screen.

  “Snooping around in the video files last night, were we?” Atari spun around in his leather chair, and Tommy stifled a laugh. Atari’s beaky nose was swollen to twice its normal size. The bruising around his eyes had blossomed spectacularly since the night before, when Careen had taken offense to one of his characteristically tactless comments and broken his nose with a well-placed left hook. “Stay out of my space.”

  “Why? You never cared about me being in here before.”

  “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want you and what’s-her-name messing with my stuff.” Then his demeanor changed, and he practically licked his lips as he asked, “Did you show her the other video I made too? You know, to get her in the mood?” Tommy expected his turn to punch Atari’s lights out would come sooner rather than later, but for now he ignored the questions and gestured at the screen. “Switch over to PeopleCam. What have they said about the escape?”

  Atari’s derisive snort seemed to get caught in his broken nose, and he winced in pain before he spoke. “So far the OCSD has failed to acknowledge last night’s incident. There is no nationwide man—or woman—hunt in progress. Nothing. Apparently, the little minx lost value once we drove her off the lot.”

  Tommy shook his head in disbelief. “What do you mean, there’s nothing on the news? Careen went berserk and attacked her mother on live television. Even if the OCSD won’t admit that she escaped from their custody, that meltdown was epic. They have to offer some kind of explanation.”

  “That live”—Atari made air quotes with his fingers—“program wasn’t really live. When she didn’t stick to the script, they scrapped the show. Since it never aired, the OCSD has nothing to explain.” Atari pulled up a video of a man sitting at a desk. “You need a tutorial. You should watch this.”

&
nbsp; “What is it? Another sim?”

  “No, it’s a game I created. Wanna play?”

  “Not really. Where are the dragons and monsters?”

  Atari smirked. “This game is all about lying and deception. Keeps my skills sharp. It’s extremely difficult to pretend like you’re in total control when you’re not. It’s hard to behave like your sworn enemy is really your best friend. Everyone should practice telling convincing lies.” He studied Tommy for a moment. “Though brute force has its place too, right, Hercules?”

  “No, thanks. I don’t lie. Not about anything important, anyway.”

  “You have to know how to lie! What else can you do when you’re out of options? Besides, limiting ourselves kills our creativity and our ability to innovate. How will we ever do new things if we don’t push the boundaries?”

  “I guess I never thought of it that way.”

  “But of course, you don’t need to lie. You’re as transparent as rainwater, aren’t you, hayseed?” He looked around. “Where is your princess, anyway?”

  “She’s exhausted. She had a bad night.”

  “If she’s exhausted, it should’ve been a good night.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Was it good for you?”

  “I meant … just never mind.”

  Atari laughed. “See? You need to learn how to lie.”

  Tommy shook his head as he left the room, determined to limit Careen’s access to Atari until she was less fragile. He balanced the tray in one hand as he opened the door and looked inside.

  She had commandeered the bed and was burrowed under the covers so he set the tray on the desk, opened his book, and read while he breakfasted alone. When he was done eating, he glanced over his shoulder. She hadn’t moved. He folded his arms on the desk and put his head down.

  3:18 PM

  Quadrant DC-025

  Kevin’s heartbeat pounded in his ears. He had the sensation of running away, even though he moved down the prison hallway at a normal pace. The double doors that stood between him and freedom seemed miles away. Sweat trickled down his cheek and left a spot on his collar. His tie threatened to strangle him, and he loosened it before he stepped into the security check area, where he was gestured through with no more than a cursory glance.

  Such an easy departure heightened his feelings of guilt and panic. He was in too much of a hurry to put on his overcoat; the sweat that ran down from his armpits turned icy, and he shivered as he hurried down the walk, sucking in great gulps of the wintry air. His driver came around to open the car door, and Kevin slumped against the leather seat, covering his face with his hands. He wanted to go back to the chief of security and say he’d been kidding when he’d ordered Jezz Catecher’s execution. But he couldn’t. Removing Jezz from the equation was necessary, not just to preserve the Resistance, but also himself.

  They were hardly out of the prison gates when he called out, “Pull over. I need to—” He opened the door before the car came to a halt and, leaning out, vomited onto the gravel shoulder of the road until there was nothing left in his stomach. He pulled the door closed with a shaking hand and rode the rest of the way to the OCSD lying on the seat.

  Back in the building, he made his way to his office, where he brushed his teeth, splashed his face with cold water, and put on a fresh shirt and tie before going next door to Madalyn’s suite. She was in conference with Art Severson, who, when they’d first met, had fumed about Kevin being named assistant director of the OCSD. Now he gave Kevin an icy glance. “Madam Director, you can count on me.” He all but bowed himself out of the room.

  Madalyn turned her attention to Kevin.

  “Well?”

  “Mrs. Catecher didn’t know anything about the Resistance or Careen’s whereabouts.” He took a deep breath. “She can’t help us.”

  “Too bad.” Just like that, she moved on. “We need to deal with the Essential Services issue. When he resigned, Victor Martel promised that people would be able to opt out of receiving food deliveries beginning at the first of the year. That’s only two weeks away. One of the main benefits of the Link is that it assures people’s access to food through Essential Services. If someone opts out, the Link can’t be expected to protect them against hunger.”

  “Can you override Martel’s decision to make ES subscriptions optional?”

  “I may have to, though it would be easier if he hadn’t made that announcement so … publicly. We can delay putting up the opt-out Web page for a month or two, and I suppose the IT department could set it up to crash if too many people try to access it.” She made a dismissive noise. “Maybe I’m worrying over nothing. Honestly, how many people will walk away from a government-sponsored food plan and choose the uncertainty of having to actually find food for themselves?”

  He took a deep breath and changed the subject.

  “So should we go to the press about Careen?”

  “No, not yet. We need to focus on the Link. If we get the program started right away, more families are likely to stay enrolled in ES.”

  Her phone rang. “Yes?”

  Kevin watched her face fall. She listened without comment, and when she hung up, he asked, “What is it?”

  “Now maybe everyone will believe me when I say we’re in constant danger.” She sank down in her leather desk chair. “Garrick missed our meeting. There’s been another crisis! Terrorists. They’re everywhere!”

  “Attacks?”

  “Hijackings. All over the country. They’re stealing shipments of Links before they can reach the Distribution Centers.”

  “Has anyone been hurt?”

  “No. But trucks full of Links are gone. How are we going to start Linking on Friday if the wristbands don’t get delivered?”

  She closed her eyes and steepled her fingers under her chin, almost as if she was praying. After a time, she spoke. “We’ll create demand. People want what they can’t have. So if they show up and get turned away … . Yes! We’ll keep them coming back until the new shipments arrive. And while we’re at it, I think it’s time to redefine some of the parameters for the Link.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “We need to Link criminals and dissidents. Think how much easier it will be for the QM to do their job. Crime rates will drop. People will love it.”

  “How will you get criminals and dissidents to report to the Distribution Centers?”

  “We won’t need to if we Link everyone who gets arrested. We’ll get them all eventually.”

  “If the Links have been stolen, how do you expect to—”

  She opened her eyes and laid both palms on her desk. “There must be a way to recover the stolen ones. I’ll call Atari. You call the factories. Double the original orders!”

  “Double?”

  “Hmm, you’re right. Maybe that won’t be enough. Let me tell you what I’m thinking so we can get the PR department on a new campaign right away.”

  Chapter 4

  9:22 PM

  Quadrant DC-005

  “Get away from me!”

  Tommy, startled awake, jumped out of his chair, heart pounding. His book hit the floor with a smack. His desk lamp provided the only light in the room, and he scanned the shadowy corners in search of an intruder.

  “Stop it!” Careen knelt in the middle of the bed, screaming and crying as she fought off an unseen attacker. Her eyes were wide open, glassy and unseeing.

  He’d experienced her bouts with night terrors before, but now the manifestation of her inner turmoil had risen to a whole new level. He stood back with hands over his ears, watching helplessly as her thrashing and screaming went on and on until the tendons stood out on her neck. It creeped him out to watch; it was as though she was possessed, and he was afraid he’d make it worse if he tried to wake or comfort her.

  She extended her arms, pantomiming pointing a gun.

  “Get back! Get back or I’ll kill you!”

  She pulled the trigger and reacted to the recoil of the imaginary gun.

  Just when he
was about to seek Atari’s help, she stopped striking out at nothing, lay down with a shuddering sob, and within seconds was perfectly calm and still.

  Tommy sank down on the desk, drained and breathless. He picked up his book and found his place, but there was no way he could focus. He got up and crossed the room to stare down at her. Sweat glistened on her brow, now smooth and untroubled. Her lips were slightly parted, her cheeks flushed, and she was breathing normally. He wondered if he’d ever be able to sleep peacefully in the same room with her again.

  He double-checked to make sure he’d collected every stray round from the desk drawer where he’d first hidden the gun and then wrapped the magazine and bullets in a T-shirt and shoved the bundle to the back of the top closet shelf.

  Even with that precaution taken, he jumped every time she stirred or mumbled in her sleep. Four hours later, he was nodding over his book, struggling to stay awake, when she yawned and rolled over.

  “Where’s your mom?” Her tone suggested she hadn’t given up on trying to catch him in a lie.

  He closed his book. “Not here. But she’s fine. She has her memory back. She’s worried about you.”

  “I want to talk to her.”

  “Me too. I’m pretty sure she’s at home in OP-439, but she hasn’t had a phone in months. Neither has my dad.”

  She sat up and folded her arms. “So she could be in prison?”

  “No, she couldn’t. Atari gets regular communiqués from Mitch, and he’s in contact with all the other members of the Resistance. If anything bad happened to anyone, we’d hear about it.”

  “Why are you here with Atari?”

  “I can’t leave right now.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m wanted for the university bombing—among other things—and also because you’re here.” It didn’t matter that he’d omitted a large portion of the truth. He tried to change the subject. “PeopleCam didn’t report anything about your escape.”

  “Of course not. Why would they? I told you, Madalyn already knows I’m here. It’s part of the loyalty test.” She hadn’t changed her mind about anything since last night.