Chapter 14
"You know, I hate to say it, but I keep wondering why we don't get arrested," Andy said.
"We don't have enough problems?" Martina said. "Geez Stoneman!"
"Yeah, why didn't anybody intercept our hovercraft back up here?" I said.
"Exactly!" Andy agreed. "We're flying renegade back to the space station--and military dispatch doesn't intercept us?!"
"It just shows you how isolated this 'Project Cleanse' really is. There are only a few conspirators." Martina said. "That's a good thing. Let's worry about what's ahead of us here." She was looking at the floor numbers going up in the elevator. At the top of the floor menu, 'Presidential Suite' was written in prominent letters.
“When we get to the top of the elevator, let’s be ready,” I said. "This is for keeps right now."
"I didn't even know this access existed," Andy said, wiping beads of sweat off his forehead.
"They don't broadcast the access to the Presidential suite," Martina said, clutching her gun tightly.
"With all the crap we learnt recently," I said, "this isn't much."
"It ain't gonna be nothing when those elevator doors open," Andy said. "One thing guys, I want you to know that despite all the smart talk, I really--"
There was a bright bing sound that interrupted Andy. The elevator stopped.
"Presidential Suite," the automated voice announced, "restricted area--top level security personnel only."
The elevator door swung open.
“Okay, go,” I said.
We rushed into the room. The three of us looked around in circles, searching for dangers--an assault situation—not what we found. It wasn't what we expected inside the residence of the most powerful person in the World Government. Looking from outside, up from the street--the actual penthouse suite looked very impressive. The outer walls were all windows, with picturesque views of the domed city and off into the cosmos beyond the dome. The tower stood higher than anything else in the domed city; therefore it had an unimpeded view of space beyond the station—of the stars and planets. The presidential suite was the only floor with a balcony. Below it was a circular tower of glass leading to the nightlife below—downtown. Looking up from there, you imagined a luxurious residence fit for royalty.
“Man, this looks familiar,” I said, pointing to a control panel that stood in the middle of the hollow shell of an apartment.
“This isn't what I expected,” Martina said, walking around the entire circular apartment.
Along all the windows were bits of furniture placed towards the possible prying eyes or telephoto lenses that could see this far up. If you looked in the windows, you would see all the trappings of a real lived-in apartment. Yet, from the center where we stood, there was a bare cement floor, an information system’s elaborate control panel; and lots of open space.
“Well, one thing’s for sure,” I said. “No one lives here.”
“I’m going to try and log on here,” Martina said. She sat down at the control panel identical to the one in the Project Cleanse lab, and went through the security checks of her palm and eye.
“Welcome to Project Cleanse Tina, where would you like to access?”
"Look," I said, "enter the simulation mode".
"Un-freaking-believable!" Andy said, "look at all the visuals, every facial expression and movement the president could ever make."
"Look at the arm waving," Martina said, "I'd seen him do that in every speech he makes--and over here is the audio options."
"Good evening fellow space station citizens," the simulated President said as Martina clicked on Standard Opening.
"No need to get too innovative--keep it standard. Here we go, I've set up the President for an upcoming speech. We can use the default settings and you simply need to input the speech data and--there ya go! --a Presidential speech."
"Look, look," Andy said, "if you look into this Political Media Control Module--there's Harrison--his last opponent."
"They're all fake!" I said, "every damn one of them."
"With the same detail," Martina said, "I could create and manipulate all of them."
"Ready to fool all the gullible citizens," I said, slapping my hand on the control panel.
“Looks like you control the World Government now Martina,” Andy said.
“This is deeper than we thought,” I said.
“It’s not deep enough? What do you mean?” Andy said.
“Not only did they create our President, but they're creating all his political opponents. They not only control the current government, they've been simulating all the major candidates in our elections. Democracy, as we know it on the space station, is a simulation manipulated by my father and Dr. Svoboda. It`s all a damn illusion. They've fooled us into believing we live in a democratic society, but they control everything.”
“I wish I could argue with you on Tyler, but, but I don’t see any other friggin' explanation.” Martina admitted.
I went to the window, looking outside at the domed city, my home, where I had grown up; the only home I had ever known. Now I looked at it with new eyes. I smiled as I looked down at the streets I used to patrol, the streets where I thought I grew up. What a fool I was. My memories had my entire early life in the military sections of the space station. Home schooled by the military, no childhood friends, the only tangible relationships were from the police academy. Just my mother and father. No siblings. Little did I know that was when I came out of my tube; all memories up until then were artificial circuitry, installed by madmen. I thought of my mother. Those comforting, warm memories.
All artificial.
I felt sick to my stomach.
It was an amazing view from up there, one I had never seen before. I was up close to the dome and felt the closeness of outer space, of the distant cosmos. The city looked so small from up here, insignificant. Sadly, the City Central area which often would be bustling with action was now empty from the infamous Exodus. They had taken all the life, all the vibrancy, out of my home; and it made me angry. They had done the same thing on a grander scale to the planet I thought my ancestors came from; and it made me even angrier. I was overwhelmed by the whole situation, but the flow of life was leading me in a certain direction.
I was started to think like Doug!
I was one of the few innocents to have this information. I had to do something. I thought of Samuel, the man I had met so recently down on Earth; one of the most intriguing people I ever met. I realized now what he meant about the importance of the information, of history, of the truth. On the space station, we were kept far away from the truth of history.
What did Samuel call himself—the keeper of the flame?
I was one of the few privileged, or should I say cursed, to have extremely valuable information; and I knew I had to do something. I had to keep the flame alive. The streets along the extremity of the city were still well lit. Yes, the more affluent, the elite members of society in the Outskirts were continuing with life as usual. Were they aware of the atrocities that were being committed in their name? Were there other conspirators? Did they care? Was it ignorance of political events, cunning deception, or complete lack of caring?
I heard the familiar binging sound of the elevator.
“We have visitors,” Andy said.
"Be ready," Martina said. We aimed our guns towards the elevator doors.
"Back up, back up," I said, retreating, looking around for cover.
Before the doors were open more than a crack, we opened fire.
Like a dangerous light show, laser beams flew everywhere and I dropped behind the furniture along the window.
"There's three of 'em," Martina said. The three commandos quickly ducked behind the control panel close to the elevator.
"Someone's still in the elevator," I said.
I saw someone still in the elevator, ducking to the side of the doors, retreating to safe territory. It was my father. Andy and Martina took cover behind other furniture near the apartment’s balcony. A laser smashed the furniture beside my head. A large chunk of wood splintered in front of my eyes.
“Watch yourself,” I yelled to Martina and Andy. “Their guns are on terminate.”
There was no answer, but Andy let out a primal yell as he stuck his head above a counter. He launched a barrage of fire towards the control panel and the open elevator door.
Sparks flew everywhere.
Smoke filled the air.
Technology disintegrated under the laser barrage.
There was silence for a moment; only the sizzling of fried circuitry, after-effects of Andy’s offensive. Carefully, like a tiny Earth creature venturing out into the savage wilderness, I poked my head above my hiding place to see what had happened. On either side of my head, laser fire brushed by me, smashing a window. I heard the crashing of glass, the tiny pieces tinkling and falling endlessly to the street far below. We were at the penthouse apartment of the tower of City Central. The surrounding ghettos of City Central had been emptied out by the Exodus the population eagerly anticipated, but the downtown core was alive with action every night—filled with the young revellers from the Outskirts.
This night was no different.
I dropped down again, taking refuge behind the furniture. With the outside window now smashed behind me, along with all the chaotic sounds of fighting, I could hear the dull murmur of street activity below. The sound of lasers firing back and forth filled the room. I rose again, this time not having to look around. I fired where I knew the commandos were hiding. Again, the system’s control panel was hit. I thought I saw one of the commandos falling backwards, but maybe it was just wishful thinking.
Martina and Andy rose to fire, and then I was sure, the other commando was on the ground. They were behind the control panel, protected from direct fire, but they must've been sent flying by the rocking of the panel. I stood up to look. The two were crawling on the ground, dazed. From the elevator, I saw the nightmarish figure of the man I thought was my father; and he threw something into the air, landing in the middle of the room. I saw the metallic cylinder as it lay there; the familiar red light beeping, getting faster and faster. The elevator doors shut.
“It’s a grenade,” I yelled.
Andy and Martina looked up, seeing the two commandos dazed on the ground and the elevator door shut. Andy ran over and tried to pick up the grenade, but we all knew that was useless. This type of grenade was fixed with a powerful suction and magnet apparatus—they stuck to wherever they were thrown—no matter what it was. There was no way to dislodge it. The red light beeped quicker, but there was still several seconds between each beep.
“We gotta get outa here!” Andy said jabbing on the elevator controls.
“Is there another elevator, another exit,” Martina said.
We took off in opposite directions looking around the circular floor of the suite. It didn't take long to run around the big empty space. We were trapped. Martina and I nearly ran into each other after our trip around the apartment. We both stared into each other’s anxious eyes, then our attention diverted to the ever-increasing beeping sound coming from the grenade at our feet.
“The commandos,” I said. “Let’s check their utility belts.”
We ran over to the two unconscious soldiers.
“Bingo,” Martina said. “They have climbing lines attached to their belts.”
Their belts were actually full harnesses, and attached to the harnesses was a tightly wound thin, strong, climbing wire. We quickly started removing the two harnesses with the belts on them. I tried hard to focus on what I was doing, work towards the only thing that could save us, without panicking over the dreaded bomb that was creating all our stress. My father had set a long time delay, giving himself plenty of time to escape. The horrific beep beeping was pounding in my head, but I concentrated, I focused. It was only when I had it half on, and Martina the same, when I stopped, realizing.
“There are only two!”
Martina and I both looked at Andy.
“Just get going as fast as you can,” Andy implored. “The first to the bottom removes his belt and clicks the recoil button. It shoots up to me and then I’m off.”
“But-- ” I started.
“Shut up and move Jonz! There’s no time,” he yelled. "It can't hold both of us."
We got our belts on. We attached the combination suction-hooks at the end of the climbing wire to a central pillar, and then we both ran for the balcony. Looking over the edge, I realized I was a little afraid of heights, but I quickly thought that I was more afraid of ticking bombs.
“The line’s secure?” I yelled to Andy.
He pulled on both our lines to check them. “Yeah, gooo!”
We both leapt over the balcony and fell ten or fifteen feet before the line tightened and we were stopped, dangling in the air over the city. It was a frenetic view, a completely different angle to a familiar place. The lights of downtown below, the now abandoned City Central around it, the calm suburbia of the Outskirts, the dome itself, danced in front of my eyes.
“Release your line as fast as you can!” Martina cried.
I released my line and I could see Andy out on the balcony. He was checking the line, making sure they were secure. I can’t remember the last look that was on his face. I just remember him checking our lines. We dropped quickly down the side of the glass tower. We were trying to go as quickly as possible, I remember that. To this day, I still see him checking our lines, worrying about us. He must've heard the increased frequency of the grenade beeping. He must've known it was about to go off.
The heat of the explosion wafted into my face as I came to the end of the climbing wire, Martina dangled beside me, like a roughed up puppet. Tiny shards of glass rained down on top of us as we hung there, only about twenty feet above a covered terrace on ground level. I released my line as quickly as I could, and I fell into the covered terrace. Martina did the same beside me and the cover broke our fall. We landed on tables.
I heard the tables cracking and chairs flying as we thudded down not too far from some patrons’ heads. I heard the sound of people screaming and yelling. We'd created quite a commotion. Night time partygoers had their attentions quickly diverted, but I realized soon enough that few were looking at us. Quickly, I detached myself from the harness and clicked the recoil button, but the wire didn't recoil up into the air. The harness bounced around over the canopy where we landed. The wire was no longer a taut line running vertically to the Presidential suite at the top of the tower. I could see the line meandering around the downtown area, the harness following close behind.
I picked myself up and ran into the street, looking up at the destroyed Presidential suite.
"Aaaandy!"