Chains of Freedom (35 page)

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Authors: Selina Rosen

Tags: #Science Fiction

BOOK: Chains of Freedom
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"Do you want to get RJ?" Jessica stared again at the shelves.

 

"Of course, but . . ."

 

"If we're going to stop her, we're going to have to break a few rules. Don't you get it, Right? That's why she's winning." Jessica looked at him and smiled. "RJ's not playing by the rules."

 

 

 

They spent several days on the island, absorbing what information they most needed at the moment. The computer and its creator were only too happy to help them.

 

What RJ had gleaned she started putting to work as soon as they returned to the mainland.

 

With a list of political and military refugees, they set out through Alsterase to gather new recruits for their cause. Some were more easily convinced than others, but in the end, they had all willingly joined. Marge and RJ had chosen well.

 

Among the most eager of their new recruits was a pretty, red-haired woman named Sandra. Her bright green eyes shone with mischief, and she always wore a wide, sincere smile. She wasn't a very big person, barely five-foot-six, and she probably didn't weigh a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet. Her looks didn't fool RJ. Sandra could hold her own with the best of them, and she had the right attitude.

 

Sandra had been some bigshot Reliance general's private secretary—a cushy job with a lot of benefits. For years she'd been using the computer at her disposal to divert shipments of supplies from military installations to needy civilian villages. Finally, she got caught. Despite the protests of the general, with whom she'd been carrying on an illegal affair, she was shipped off to a work prison—one that dealt primarily with the raising and shearing of sheep.

 

Sandra's memories of sheep were less than pleasant. "They're homely, disgusting, filthy little bastards, that will go out of their way to shit on, or preferably,
in
your shoes. They simply delight in getting drenched, so that they can exude the foulest stench known to man, and they do this five minutes before you're supposed to shear them. I hate sheep!"

 

The only thing that Sandra hated more than sheep was the Reliance. The girl possessed a burning, passionate hatred for the Reliance that rivaled even that of David and RJ.

 

She'd slept her way into her position as the general's secretary, and she'd slept her way out of prison, and she was damn proud of the fact.

 

 

 

They took over the entire fourth floor of the hotel and made it their base of operations. Their new members were given weapons and communicators set to a closed channel and monitored by Marge.

 

Now they were ready for the next stage—secretly replacing every Reliance spy in Alsterase with their own personnel. They began this task at dusk one day, and by the first light of dawn on the following morning all twelve spies had been replaced. Poley's skillful hands fixed their Reliance communicators so that there would be no detectable changes in voiceprints.

 

They returned to the hotel in broad daylight. It had been a long night of hunting, killing, and disposing of bodies. They were all tired. David followed Whitey and RJ into the room, and Whitey gave him an odd look. It took David's tired brain several seconds to realize the significance of that glance. This was no longer his room. He lived next door.

 

But this had been his room. Back in the beginning, when it had been just him and RJ. That seemed ages ago, now. The rebellion was growing, and that was good, but . . . Well, he had to share RJ with more and more people. There was less and less time for them.

 

"Something wrong, David?" RJ asked as she started to unroll her chain from her torso.

 

David looked at RJ and suddenly felt a great loss. "No . . . I just . . . Guess I'm more tired than I thought. Good night . . . ah, good morning." He shrugged, at a loss for once, and RJ laughed.

 

"Good night, David," she said dismissively.

 

David left, closing the door behind him.

 

In his own room he felt truly alone for the first time. More alone than he'd felt at any time since meeting RJ. He lay down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He felt chilled by the thought of the deaths they had dealt just that night. Had it all become this easy? When had he stopped seeing them as people and started seeing them as targets? People had become problems that could only be dealt with one way.

 

He felt guilty and afraid. He longed for the security he had felt sleeping in a room full of people. More important, he longed for the security and the warmth he had shared sleeping with RJ, knowing that there was nothing expected. They had spent hours just talking. Their days had been filled with idle chatter. Now they rarely got a moment alone. RJ had Whitey now, and Poley. She didn't really need him anymore. But he realized with an aching in his heart that he still needed her.

 

The women came and they went, and he needed none of them for any longer than it took to satisfy his dick. But RJ was different. She was the only person he had shared any real closeness with since the loss of his father. She had become his family.

 

They were building an army, which is what he wanted. An army to fight the Reliance. But in the process he was losing RJ.

 

The noise from the next room became impossible to ignore. He had chosen the room next to RJ's so that he could stay close to her. At times like this, he wished he hadn't. Apparently RJ came if the wind blew, and when she did, she didn't care who knew it. David was sure that there were people on the outer worlds who heard her. Therefore, it was ludicrous for him to even try to pretend that he didn't know what was going on next door.

 

It was all Whitey Baldor's fault. Everything had been just fine till he came along. He had ruined everything. David snarled at the ceiling. So much for her crushing him to death. He seemed as healthy as ever. Oh, admittedly, Whitey had the occasional bruise, but nothing more serious than that.

 

David wondered if RJ loved Whitey. He knew Whitey loved her. But he wasn't sure that she loved him back. She acted much the same way towards Whitey as she always had. He continued to hang all over her, she more or less ignored him and went on with whatever she was doing. But sometimes she would reach out and take his hand, or return his kiss. Sometimes she would look at him and smile for no apparent reason. She might love him. It was hard to say with RJ.

 

It had been Whitey that had saved her life at Topaz's. Oh, David had helped, but it had been Whitey's idea, and Whitey's strength that had opened the door and freed her hands. Maybe she felt grateful to him.

 

A loud, ecstatic moan emanated from the room next door. David grimaced. Such gratitude was extravagant in his opinion. David was aware of being flushed at the thought of what was going on next door.

 

The idea hit him from out of the blue, and did nothing for his morale. RJ had come to him. She had wrapped herself around him and showed him just a tenth of what she was showing Whitey right now. He could have been the man sharing her warmth, drinking in her passion. He could have been the man running his hands over her warm, tan, flawless flesh. He could have kept her all to himself.

 

But that wouldn't have been right. You didn't have sex with someone just so you could keep that person to yourself.
Why the hell not? I've slept with women just because I liked the way they smelled
.

 

David had thought that making love to her would drive a wedge between them. But so had Whitey Baldor.

 

He put it out of his mind. He had done the right thing. Whatever else one might say about Whitey, he loved RJ. There was never any doubt about that. David smiled. Besides which, RJ probably
would
have killed
him
. What were bruises on Whitey would have translated to broken bones on David.

 

No matter how illogical or selfish, David still missed his friend. He didn't understand why everything had to change. Why couldn't it be like it had been in the beginning? The way he knew it could never be again.

 

 

 

Except for Sandra, none of the new recruits were even told about the island, much less taken there. Usually, when the members of the original party went to the island, they all went. This time, it was just David and RJ. Why she chose to do this, David had no idea. But he was glad to have the time alone with her. It was dark, of course, and the hologram rose out of the ocean to meet them.

 

"Hello, ugly," David waved. He'd become accustomed to this ghostly form and would have thought there was something amiss if it had failed to appear.

 

After their third visit to the island, Topaz had taken David to a private room away from the others and had Marge show him some old film clips. Ancient forms of government and the history of the same unfolded before him. The names were odd, and sometimes the language made it hard to follow, but he got the gist of it.

 

He watched as the history of his ancestors flowed onto the screen. He learned that Zone 2-A had once been the country called America. He learned that history almost always repeats itself. That if rebels aren't careful, they could wind up bringing to power the same, or sometimes worse, form of oppressors that what they had just overthrown.

 

Topaz came in periodically to check on him. He answered any questions David had, subtly planting his own ideas in David's head. David wasn't so blind that he didn't see what Topaz was doing, but what the man said made sense, so David listened carefully.

 

It was obvious that Topaz favored a quasi-democratic form of government with mild doses of socialism thrown in.

 

". . . so you see, RJ. In America, anyone could grow up and be President. There was this man named Lincoln. He came from a very poor background, but he went on to become one of their most famous men. Imagine it, RJ! People picked their own mates, their own careers, chose where to live, and how many kids to have. They even picked their own leaders. When Lincoln was President, there was a big war, and America split in two. After the war, they joined back. Lincoln said," David cleared his throat, 'We are highly resolved that these dead shall not have died in vain. That this nation shall have a new breath of freedom.'"

 

"Very pretty," RJ said vaguely as she steered the boat.

 

"Don't you get it, RJ? America is Zone 2-A. Americans have always fought for their freedom. It has to be more than coincidence that the fight against the Reliance, the fight for freedom, has started here." He spoke with fervor and conviction.

 

"Maybe," RJ said noncommittally. She had more on her mind at the moment. Among other things, she wondered whether she should have brought David with her. She had to do something. Something she didn't want anyone to know about. If she was going to bring anyone, she should have brought Poley. But she hadn't spent any time with David recently, and she sort of missed their talks. Of course she was really too preoccupied to be good company.

 

"Don't you find it intriguing?" David asked in a hurt voice. He finally had RJ alone, and it was as if she were a million miles away. She didn't answer him. She just stared out at the island, even though it could barely be seen through the dark and fog.

 

"RJ, are you listening to me?"

 

"Not really," she said truthfully.

 

"What?" he said in hurt disbelief.

 

"Sorry, David. My mind . . . I think I love Whitey," she lied. She couldn't believe she had lied so easily to him. She'd tried to lie to Whitey a dozen times with no success. Yet it was so easy to lie to David.

 

David laughed and shook his head. "Well, that would explain why you're so distracted." He hid his anger. He finally had RJ alone, and all she could do was think about Whitey Baldor.

 

"He deserves better that some half-breed Argy bitch . . ."

 

"Isn't he a half-breed, too?" David snapped his fingers. It all seemed too obvious now. "I know what RJ stands for!"

 

RJ gave him a disbelieving look, but said nothing.

 

"Well . . . don't you want to hear it?"

 

"If you're right, and I seriously doubt it, then I already know." She sighed.

 

"Argy—RJ," David said.

 

She shook her head. "They sound nothing alike."

 

A horrible thought came to David. "Whitey knows, doesn't he?"

 

"Well, of course he does," she said matter-of-factly. Then added with immense satisfaction, "He guessed."

 

"If Whitey guessed, it must be pretty obvious," David said, thoughtfully.

 

"David, they don't make men Elites unless they have a very high IQ. Whitey is not just another pretty face." She docked the boat and jumped onto the pier. As she tied the boat off, she continued. "Besides, Whitey's made love to me. Any man who is my lover would know what RJ stood for." There, that ought to confuse him for all eternity. She started off down the pier with David right behind her.

 

"I don't get it. Extremely loud is EL, not RJ," David said and laughed. "Come on, RJ . . ."

 

"Forget it, David. It's a secret. You hate that, I know, but that's what it is." She turned around and grinned a triumphant grin, before taking off down the walkway. He deserved to squirm.

 

 

 

RJ looked around. Topaz was off with David showing him some more films and trying to indoctrinate him. It was just she and Marge.

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