Phoenix Rising (Book Two of The Icarus Trilogy) (15 page)

“There’s at least one of us on every team, Carver, and this isn’t some play at the heartstrings.  We’re here for a reason,” Templeton said as he kicked at the ground in front of him.  Carver held his tongue and waited for the man to continue.  He didn’t feel the need to interrupt.

“For instance, I’m here to recruit you, and well, everyone else on the Crows.  The higher-ups thought it would be a good idea to recruit you for the coming war.”  Carver’s eyes snapped to the man’s face.  This had to be a joke.

“War?  What war?”  Templeton gave him a sorrow-filled smile.  Carver knew that kind of smile.

“We’re going to take back the system from the Trade Union, Carver.  This isn’t like the resistance movements from the past.  We’re not just some kids with too much time on our hands.  We’re going to bring change or die trying.  We’re sick of being slaves to men like Jasper Montgomery.  We want to take back our fate, Carver.  I actually hoped that you would understand that, being a career slave and all that.”

Carver’s eyes gave way to fury.  He didn’t know what this punk was talking about.  He didn’t know what they could possibly hope to achieve.  The Trade Union wasn’t just massive; they held all the power and all the weapons.  The EOSF was theirs.  And now this child was coming to tell him that he needed to join their pointless cause.

“How can you possibly hope to fight them,
Templeton?
” he asked, trying to place emphasis on the fact that he didn’t know the man in front of him.  “You think freeing a few slave soldiers will be enough to stop the Trade Union?”  Templeton crossed his arms, as well, and looked the elder in the eye.  He closed the distance by a short amount and increased his posture.

“We aren’t freeing a few slave soldiers, Carver.  We’re freeing all of them.  The EFI is massive.  We have millions of supporters already and righteousness on our side.”  Carver stood up to his full height and felt his spine creaking, but he disregarded it.  He wasn’t going to let some kid try to use his size to intimidate him.

“They have the EOSF.  They have the money.  Righteousness is a poor substitute.”  Templeton shook his head and gave a bitter smile.  He hadn’t expected this to be so difficult.

“Not all of the EOSF.  For now, righteousness will have to do, Carver.  Because while they may have the police and resources, no one is going to side with them outside of fear of what the Trade Union might do.  If we do this right, we can have the entire human population fight with us.”

“Meat for the thresher,” Carver said with a note of derision.  He wondered if he was the only sane man left in the system.  Templeton closed his eyes and bit his lip.  He knew why Carver was so jaded, but he was still upset that he had to speak to the man like this.  The only reason he didn’t give up was because of Carver’s importance.

“Yeah, there’s probably going to be a bit of that.  People are going to die and I’m not happy about that,” Templeton said before opening his eyes and looking at the old man with grim determination.  He knew that the veteran would understand eventually.  It was just a matter of using the right words.  “But what use is life if it’s to be in chains?  When we free all the soldiers and tell them our stories they will realize how they’ve been enslaved, as well.  Less than one percent of humanity has a shot at real happiness.  That’s not acceptable.  We’re fighting to change that and I honestly believe people will join us.”

“Then you’re a fool.  What did you hope to accomplish by telling me?  Did you think I would join this bloody crusade of yours?  Why in the seven hells would I ever join something so suicidal?”  Carver couldn’t believe he was really having this conversation.  Whatever sense of respect he had gained for Templeton with his revelation was long spent.  He had proved himself the worst kind of idiot; he was stupid enough to get other people killed.  And that’s when Templeton said the words that would drive Carver to violence.

“You’re already suicidal, Carver.  You proved it when you paid for Jenkins’ modifications.  You literally have nothing to lose.”  Carver dove at the man with a wild haymaker.  If he connected he would find it easy to beat the man to death and Templeton wouldn’t say a thing.  He would have to keep quiet or else draw attention to his rebellious leanings.

But Carver didn’t get the chance.  Templeton slid underneath the blow, caught his forearm and kicked the legs out from under him.  Carver was face down in the dirt of the asteroid and was helpless at the hands of this younger man.  Twenty years ago, the black man wouldn’t have had a chance.

“Don’t try to fight me, Jonathon.  I’ve been trained almost as much as you, but to compensate for the lack of experience I do have around thirty years of youth to balance it out.  Will you try to hurt me again?”

Carver looked up at the young soldier and knew that he wouldn’t gain anything from hurting the man.  The resistance agent had already won; he had pushed Carver to unreasonable actions.  Carver shook his head and felt Templeton release his arm.  The old man picked himself up and wiped off the dust from his chest plate.  He looked at the revolutionary and kept silent.  Templeton had earned Carver’s attention.

“Great sacrifices have to be made, Carver, but we have a secret weapon.  We can truly do this.”  Carver sighed at the man’s words and rolled his eyes.  It always came down to secret weapons and in the end they didn’t mean a thing.  This was a doomed effort from the start.  Carver just stared at the man.  He had to listen, but that didn’t mean he had to participate.

“Jenkins.”  Carver heard the name and instantly his brow furrowed.  He couldn’t keep the words escaping from his thoughts.

“What the hell are you talking about, kid?”  Templeton gave a slight smile, this one not tinged with sadness like the others.  Carver wondered what the man was going to say.

“He’s the perfect propaganda.  Just like you used to be.  Do you know how popular you were in your prime, old man?”  Carver had an idea.  He had been to Garrison’s office twice in order to negotiate a higher pay.  He had more fan mail than he could possibly have read.  War World Entertainment used Carver in video games; they had created a biography for him for War World Network.  Carver even remembered some talk about an action figure at some point.  He had been a hero to the billions of people that populated Earth and her eight daughters.

“I have a hunch,” he said with skepticism.  Templeton nodded.

“We can still use that, but your time is over, Carver.  You’re just an old man.  Respectable, which is why we need you, but there has to be new blood.  Jenkins is the new blood.”

“Keep going, kid.  I’m running out of patience,” Carver said while trying to read the man’s face.  He wondered how reliable the man could be for information.

“I’m getting there.  Jenkins’ modification was the first step of something greater.  You know that they’re trying to create heroes.  That’s what you paid for.”  Carver nodded at the statement.  He had heard that was the reason for the procedure, but he had yet to see anything come to fruition.  There was no special mention of Jenkins in the weeks gone by.

“Well that was only the first step.  Starting with this game right here they’re turning Jenkins into a symbol.  He’s going to be the hero of this generation.  They set up a situation where he kills three soldiers today by himself.  They programmed the fight into his behaviors and put the Bulls at just the right location.  Starting today he’s going to be a celebrity.”

“How is that something we can use, Templeton?  The boy loves to fight.”  He felt a pang of guilt as he remembered his former student.  Carver remembered Garrison’s words about regret and knew that he had made a mistake.

“We’re not going to use him.  We’re going to bring back the real Jenkins.  We’re going to make him
our
symbol.  The War World Network is doing half the work for us.  They’re putting Jenkins’ face all over the networks and in a week and a half we’ll bring out our Jenkins.  The wounded, suicidal Jenkins that had been brutally abused and shoved into a corner.  We’re going to show the whole population what happens when we allow the Trade Union to run our entire lives.”

Carver couldn’t help but breathe heavy at the revelation.  He hadn’t ever considered that they could bring back his young friend.  Suddenly the old man was very angry; this wasn’t something that they could joke about.  Carver wasn’t going to let them.

“That’s impossible.  He’s gone.”

“Not completely, Jonathon.  Believe me.  We’re working on it right now.  In a week and a half he’ll be back with us.  And he won’t want to kill himself, I’m sure of it.  He’s going to have his freedom back.  He’ll want to stay,” Templeton said.  Carver had to steady himself and looked at the ground.  He started thinking about all the things he could say to that young man; thinking about all the apologies he had to make.  The veteran looked back up at the resistance agent and tried to catch his breath.

“How?”  Templeton smiled again; a real, genuine smile.

“Hawkins always makes a backup.  You think he’d tamper with the man’s brain without keeping the old one?” he asked while laughing.  The revolutionary knew he had the veteran, now.  It was a cruel tactic to use against the old man, but the EFI needed him almost as much as Jenkins.  “Will you help us, Carver?  Will you help us take back our freedom?”  The old man looked at the soldier in front of him.  He realized that he didn’t have a choice.  The old Crow had a chance to undo his one, truly awful mistake.  Carver couldn’t live with himself if he turned it down; he wouldn’t be able to look himself in the eye.

“I have nothing to lose.”  Templeton smiled at the turn in conversation.  He walked up to the veteran and placed his hands on the man’s shoulders.

“And everything to gain.”

-

Abrams couldn’t see at first.  It was always a little fuzzy after a resurrection and the drugs they had given her didn’t help that at all.  Jessica was glad for them, since they dulled the pain that would come from the day’s training, but there was a small part of her that wished for a better transition.  She almost hated coming back into the world.

As she looked around the familiar setting she saw Dr. Kane looking at the computer terminal in confusion.  She was a pleasant girl, though she didn’t do much to inspire any kind of warm feelings from the female soldier.  The only real thing they had in common was their gender and Abrams didn’t really fit into the female archetype.  Charlotte would greet her with a smile, allow her the time to change into comfortable clothes for her training and then lead her down the hallway to the exercise room.  The two women rarely exchanged words.

“So do you remember who you are?” the doctor asked as she turned from the display.  There was some nonsense on the screen about the seal for the resurrection chamber, but Charlotte couldn’t see anything wrong with Abrams.  When the raven-haired doctor saw Jessica roll her eyes in her direction, Charlotte took that as a hint to the soldier’s health.  She laughed slightly, thinking it highly characteristic of the soldier.

“Thought so.  I’ll get you on your feet in a little bit, Jessica.”  Abrams smiled at the doctor’s reaction.  Dr. Kane might not have been the soldier’s friend, but at least she was quick to realize a pattern when it was in plain sight.  She started to run through the checklist in her head while she unclasped the two restraints and eased her hands around the re-breather.

“You ready?”  Abrams tilted her head slightly and then nodded.  The doctor lifted the breathing tube out of the soldier and it came with a wet cough.  There was still a fair amount of biotic fluid around the device and, while it provided the necessary lubrication, it was still entirely unpleasant.  Abrams hated the taste.  Luckily she didn’t have to feel the pain that would have almost certainly had come without sedatives.  She thanked God for modern medicine.

Dr. Kane busied herself with removing the electrodes that stimulated Abrams’ body while in stasis as Abrams started to sit herself up.  Her body was weak and unpracticed, practically just born, so it would take a while before the thing would react as well as the last one.  When she reached a vertical position she reached behind her head knowing there wouldn’t be anything resembling hair, but she had to check anyway.  She sighed as all she felt was wet fuzz around her scalp.  She laughed weakly and looked the doctor in the eye.

“Goddamnit if I don’t miss my hair.”  The good doctor looked up at her and smiled.  Charlotte liked the gruff soldier, but it was these little moments of insecurity that really made her into something different.  Charlotte was used to the indulgent macho stereotypes that walked the halls of the Crows’ barracks; it was nice to have a little softness from time to time.

“It’ll come back.  It could be worse,” Charlotte said before heading off to the computer terminal nearby.  Although she had been running through the checklist in her head, she still needed to go about the proper channels so that the newborn soldier could make it onto the field.  Charlotte sighed as she started ticking off the boxes concerned with physical defects.  The note about the tampered seal was still present on the display, but Charlotte ignored it.  If anything, Hawkins was responsible.

“Oh really?” Abrams asked before laughing slightly.  “What….could be worse?” she asked before feeling a little tired.  Her lungs and vocal chords were unpracticed and unwieldy.  That’s what the training was for, but she didn’t particularly want to wait to speak.  Charlotte looked over her shoulder and shrugged.

“Well, you could be naked, too, and … oh,” she said sarcastically before smiling and turning back to the display.  Abrams cracked into a smile, as well.  The soldier looked down to see herself completely naked.  She was used to it by now, especially since she had seen so much worse, but she suddenly felt exposed when attention was brought to it.

“That would be worse.  Any way you can help with that?” Abrams asked the doctor.  She couldn’t remember any conversation with the woman lasting this long.  Something must be different about the girl. 
Maybe she found a boyfriend over in McClellan
, the soldier thought.  The doctor chuckled and, finished with her checklist, brought over the sports bra and fatigues to the soldier.