Son of Sedonia (44 page)

“Come on, man, into the belly,” Matteo said, “Told me to do it enough times, you think you’d remember...”

Jogun shivered as he pressed his lips together, taking slow, bumpy breaths one by one. Jo rolled his head to the side. Looked down out the window.

“I-it’s over...” Jogun said. They crossed above the City skyline at blinding speed, passing from Center to Inner Ring in seconds. Fires raged everywhere, stippled throughout the monumental angles, platforms, and curves. Heavy gunships took crowds of prisoners some places. Fought fever-pitch battles in others. Giant Federal command ships hovered amongst the clouds like angry Gods. Through the windshield, Matteo saw stray rounds streak up to the sky, most disappearing into the dawn drenched fog of smoke. The quiet rang in his ears.

“Matteo...” Jo cringed in pain. Continued. “You did good...on your own...just like you always said you would.”

“Jo, I never meant—” Matteo stopped as Jo kept talking.

“I think I was scared you were right. That you didn’t need me. That—that—I was alone... That I should be,” Jogun stared out of the window, “I never told you the truth because I knew you’d leave...but you deserved to know, you
always
deserved to know...”

“Quit talking like this, man, we’re gonna find Utu!” Matteo ground the ball of his foot into the accelerator. The Solari shuddered as it reached top speed. The first squat apartments of the Outer Ring appeared under the horizon. Matteo poured sweat as he forced the wheel steady. He felt Jogun’s hand gently rest on his shoulder.

“It’s-o-okay,” Jo said, sucking short breaths, “It’s okay...you’re strong. You can choose for yourself now. You got this...” The hand slipped off Matteo’s shoulder.

“No, no, no, no, NO! Come on, Jo, I need you, man,
I need you!
” Matteo clutched Jo’s hand, “I’ve always needed you, you’re my— You
are
my brother. Rasalla’s our home. I can’t do this without you, now please just...just stay...stay—.” The sadness settled over him as the Solari boomed over the Outer Ring. Past the ruined Border.

Tracing due East from the Rasalla River, Matteo recognized the Healing Quarter. The Temple of the Wheel sat at the far end of it with strings of prayer flags blowing in the scorched air. Scores of the wounded, dying, and dead lined the grounds, tended by fluttering blue shapes. Matteo brought the Solari down in the only open patch he could find, feeling a twinge as those who could walk scattered to hide. He powered off the engines and released the doors.

“I’m one of you! Scrap! Ashes! Dirt!” Matteo shouted, waving his arms, “Get Utu!”. He ran around to the passenger side, took Jogun’s body from the car, and turned. Stopped. Jogun’s eyes gazed at the sky, unblinking as ash-colored raindrops wet his face. Before the tears could come, Matteo looked around him. The Blue Ladies, wounded dwellers, T99s, others strange to Matteo...they crowded together, heads bowed. All at once, they dropped to their knees. Bowed. An old woman stepped forward with two young helpers. Dressed in temple blue, bits of copper and tin rattled on long necklaces around her thin neck and shoulders. She lifted a withered hand to Jogun’s forehead.

“The Healer has gone home,” she said aloud, “We will take the machine from his flesh and send his body to the Earth as it came. Place him here.” The two helpers laid a blanket of heavy Rasalla cloth on the rain-dappled ground. Matteo stepped forward and knelt. Lowered Jogun’s broken body to the blanket. Reaching forward, he closed his brother’s eyes. The old woman placed her hands over her heart. Raised her tiny voice to the crowd.

“When the hour is dark, do not despair.

For He is with us.

Begging his children to find their path.

Blessed are those who do, following unto its end.

Blessed are those who find faith, not only in God, but in themselves.

Blessed are those who show the way of Love, of Sacrifice, and of Peace.

Do not despair.”

Matteo blinked back tears. His path was clouded. City. Slums.
The world?
Who knew what it would mean from here. He looked one last time at the peace on Jogun’s face. Over the swirling chaos in his mind, Matteo heard his brother’s clear voice. ‘
You got this.
’

48

Stepstones

Weeks later

LIANI FIDGETED WITH
her kevlar Press helmet. She wished she would have tried a few more on before stealing this particular one from the GloboMetro field HQ. The pinching straps worked at her frayed nerves as she approached the City-side checkpoint to the Outer Ring. Kilometers of razor-wire fence had been rolled out to form a new Border, thirty meters high, guarded by legions of government troops and patrolling aircraft. Liani glanced up. The Federal command ships hadn’t moved since the ‘Intervention,’ hovering high above Sedonia City with an ever-present hum. Liani felt tiny. Exposed.
The Narayana’s supposed to be twelve times the size of one of those...
She wondered where it might be.

The Aug-troops at Access Point Charlie each stood taller than an average gigantic human, decked out head to foot in heavy Augmentor rigs. She felt their eyes glaring at her from behind those smooth, blank masks as she walked up to the gate. Thankfully, a regular size officer in a helmet and fatigues seemed to be in charge of clearance, checking a cargo manifest of a ground truck. He waved them through and turned to Liani.

Okay...showtime.
Liani threw on her cutest smile and batted eyelashes over her brown, color-corrective contacts.

“Hello,” she said with a sly pitch. She rolled up her sleeve, gulped a lump in her throat, and held out her upturned arm.

“Evening, ma’am,” said the officer as he took her hand and waved a scanner baton over her arm. Concealer cream covered the tiny scar on her smooth skin. He didn’t seem to notice it.
This better work...
The technician working with Doc Utu had called it a ‘Bounce Chip.’ It would detect the scan, block communication with the main City server, then reroute the query to their server back in Rasalla. New picture, name, date of birth, social security number, current employer, political affiliations, and detailed family history. All of it had to gel, or she’d go away for identity theft. Not a healthy idea in the Post-Intervention world. The scanner beeped, stopping her heart. Liani watched as the officer read through the information on his private Neural display.

“Thank you, Ms. Deckard...Sorry if we make you nervous,” the officer released her hand, “I know it looks like some kind of alien invasion around here.”

Liani laughed, bleeding the pressure.

“Yeah,” she said, “At least they give us a human face to talk to, Officer...?”

“
Corporal
Schilling...and I gotta say,
your
face is a sight for sore eyes,” he said with a smile. A loud throat clearing behind her made Liani jump. She whipped around and scowled.

“What?” Corey said, “This thing’s heavy.” He set the blocky gray case down in the dirt then rose to stretch in his white medical Augs. She could kill him all over again. That ‘thing’ happened to be a stolen Hi-Band Broadcast Unit.

“You crew with her?” asked Schilling.

“Obviously,” said Corey. Liani made no secret of punching him in the shoulder...forgetting about the healing gunshot wound there. Corey yelped. The Corporal tensed and rested a casual hand on his sidearm.

“There a problem?” asked Schilling.

“No!” Liani and Corey said in unison.

“I got shot...in the...Whitlatch attack,” said Corey, rolling up his left sleeve. Schilling studied the bandage as he stepped forward with the scan baton. Swept it over Corey’s forearm.

“Heard about that...we should’ve been there. Damn bureaucratic—-wait, says here you live in Shibuya.”

“I do, uh...” said Corey, stumbling, “
She
lives in Whitlatch...”

The Corporal lowered his head and turned away. He pressed his throat mic. Murmured something. Corey and Liani exchanged looks.

“Okay, you guys are good,” said the Officer, “But if you’re headed into the Hostile Zone, you’ll need to get an escort. Look for Sergeant Yeighman at the border tent, he’ll set you up.”

“Thank you very much, Corporal Schilling,” said Liani sweetly. Corey picked up the case with a grunt and forged ahead, pushing Liani through the open gate.

“Hey!” the Corporal called out, freezing the two of them in their tracks.
Shit!
Liani turned wearing her best innocent face.

“You guys be safe out there, okay? Media likes to paint Dwellers as ‘just people,’ but they’re desperate people. Desperate people do crazy things.”

“We’ll be careful,” Corey said flatly. They turned and walked briskly toward the rift in the Border. Tanks, armored trucks, and squads of soldiers crowded the central avenue. Through brute force, they occupied the war-torn Outer Ring, pumping power rations into the City like life support. Fenced-in tent villages had also cropped up. The news didn’t have much to say about them. Watching a wounded plant worker get dragged from his tent kicking and screaming, Liani realized why.

They skipped the border tent and Sergeant Yeighman, tagging along instead behind another group of press and their three-man Aug-troop escort. After a quick scan, Corey and Liani were part of the group.

“Okay folks!” shouted one of the soldiers through his mask, “Please walk two-by-two! Please keep between me and my associates
at all times!
Do not deviate from this little tour of ours...the enemy would be more than happy to get their hands on a couple City reporters! Let’s go!”

Just like that, they walked through the Border. The charred canyon stretched a hundred meters above them on either side. Corey, following suit with the others, snapped pictures rapid-fire.

“Hard to believe...” Corey said.

“No kidding.” Liani looked out over the Slums. Utu had described them to her, but she’d never seen them in person. The rusting towers, the stacked containers, the criss-crossing catwalks and bridges, the shanties in the street...all of it full of hidden people. Few dared show themselves with the Aug-troops around.

“Okay, there it is,” Corey whispered. The road bent ahead. Several alleys, stairwells, and pathways radiated out from it. One path dipped down and out of sight. A blue prayer flag flapped in the breeze, tied to a pipe on the corner.

“Ready?” Corey asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” said Liani. When the convoy turned right, Liani took off her helmet, spilling her red curls over her shoulders. She sucked in a breath. Gunfire erupted from the surrounding buildings. As the soldiers scrambled to react, Liani and Corey bolted for the alley. It changed direction several times inside, forking in ways Liani didn’t remember from the instructions. Behind, a savage thump-whine-thump-whine-thump-whine of military Augmentors bore down on them.

“There!” Liani shouted as she saw another flag dangling from a clothesline. A door beside it opened and a little woman in blue robes leaned out. Waved them in. There were three women in all, old, tiny, and frail. But fast. In a series of deft moves, they slipped jammer-rings on Liani and Corey’s fingers and wrapped the two of them in earth-colored cloaks.

“Come!” said one of the ladies, waddling to another door. She swung it open and shuffled everyone out.
The Falari Market.
The bustle of evening activity quickly swallowed them up between the tents, stands, and blankets full of items. Liani chanced a backward look. Saw one of her escorts perched on the roof, scanning the crowd. Not finding them.

“We’re good,” said Liani.

“Are we?” asked Corey, “Gonna have a chat later about flirting with Corporals and punching bullet wounds.”

“Crybaby.”

They reached the Temple of the Wheel within the hour, crossing through its round metal gate. Liani loved the place instantly. It was dirty, tarnished, and made from God-knows how many bits of scrap...but the space calmed her. She could see it was built with love. One of the ladies took Liani by the hand.

“Oh! So soft!” the little woman said, “You betta’ tell me your secret!” Liani laughed as she and Corey were led to one of the metal containers. They passed through the hanging bead curtain into a makeshift broadcast room. Wires snaked over the floor like black pasta, hooked up to old-style consoles and monitors. Utu greeted them.

“Fantastic!” he said, “You made it! Did you get what you needed?”

“Right here,” said Corey, panting. He put down the case with a thud and opened it. Illyk stood up from behind a console, cigarette in mouth.

“Perfect, help me hook it up over here to the mem-data ports,” Illyk said. Liani shot the sketchy kid a look that made him cringe. Illyk avoided her eyes as he turned and crossed the room. He had said his men acted alone that night.
But he picked the men.
She didn’t like trusting him now, but bigger things were moving.

Corey grunted as he lifted the HBBU out of the case and followed. Liani pulled her hood off and ran her fingers through her hair. Her heart still hadn’t calmed down. Utu walked over with a small ceramic bowl of water. Handed it to her.

“You and your friend have done a brave thing, Liani,” said Utu, smiling that smile she’d already learned to love, “We thank you. Would you like me to show you to a bedroll for some rest?” Liani drank deeply from the bowl then withdrew it from her lips. Stared down into the rippling water.

“Thank you,” she said, “But...if he’s ready, I’d like to see him.”

“Of course. This way.”

Utu led her cloaked through streets and alleys to the West. The Slums were rebuilding, little by little. Scorched gouges, collapsed dwellings, and tumbled walls grew new structure, fed and shaped by scores of Dwellers. They sang as they worked. Liani eventually heard the sound of flowing water echo through the neighborhoods. Flowers and incense masked the pungent smell of the Rasalla River as she and Utu walked out onto the concrete-stepped shore.