Murder of Crows (Book One of The Icarus Trilogy) (28 page)

Jenkins watched as the bullets rained down onto Roberts’ frail body.  He watched as the life left the poor boy and the smoke from the bullets started to pour out of his body.  Jenkins was in too much shock to close his eyes when the boy’s body fell and his unguarded head sank into the target zone of the mini-gun.  The image of Roberts’ face being riddled with bullets and eroding away was too much for Jenkins to take.  The young Crow fell back down behind cover and tried to stifle his urge to throw up.  He couldn’t manage and rushed to unclasp his helmet.  Jenkins was just in time; he vomited onto the ground as his helmet was rolling away from his feet.

After a few moments of heaving Jenkins sat back against his cover and wondered if that was what Roberts had truly wanted.  He had heard the boy pleading with his executioner, egging the man on, but Jenkins knew that he was just trying to escape the pain.  He hoped that was all; he hoped the boy was not just suicidal.  The Commission took that very seriously. 

Jenkins was sitting there against the rock he was using as cover when the last of it left him.  He realized that there was no real hope on the asteroid.  Feldman really was a fool, just like Carver had said.  None of them were getting out alive.  The young Crow thought about the five people who had just died in front of him.  He knew that those two Lions were in exactly the same boat; they weren’t Jenkins’ true enemies.  Norris and Warner and Roberts and those two were dead for no other reason than good entertainment.  Jenkins realized that he would soon join them, and so would his opponent in the mech.  Maybe not that game, but probably the next.  Maybe the one after that.  They all had a death sentence hanging over them on Eris.

It was no place for hope.

Jenkins sat there and wondered what he was going to do for the rest of this existence.  He hadn’t saved his friends and he wasn’t going to be able to get away; the pilot was too paranoid for that, now.  The young Crow turned to look back at the Lion and saw the man initiate the scanning system on the machine.  It would only be a short time before the pilot would know that Jenkins had been hiding like a little rat.

Jenkins looked down at his grenade belt and sighed.  He decided that even though he wasn’t going to live, he could still make it easier for the rest of his teammates.  He didn’t have to end it like Roberts.  Jenkins dropped his rifle from his shoulder and broke cover.

The young Crow scrambled over the rock and sprinted towards the machine of death.  He counted himself lucky that the pilot was still looking at Roberts’ corpse, but the mech was still about twenty meters away.  Jenkins was about halfway there when the pilot noticed the incoming threat.  The Lion started to turn the machine and Jenkins cursed under his breath.  The Crow knew that he just had to make it to the machine and then it was allowed to kill him if it wanted.  He just needed to be there.

The pilot started up the mini-gun as the mech’s torso rotated to face his enemy; the Lion knew that this was a kamikaze mission and he panicked.  The bullets sank into the ground in a vicious arc and Jenkins could hear some of them ricochet back at the metal monstrosity.  The Crow was only five meters away from the machine when he heard the bullets closing in on him.  He was just grateful the pilot had already used the plasma beam and it would take time to recharge.  Jenkins armed the grenades and let them cook in his hands.  He wondered if he was going to make it or if they would explode before he reached the machine.

He realized that in the end it still wouldn’t matter.  He would die either way and it wasn’t going to do anything to help in the long run.  Jenkins was about a meter away from the machine when he could see his adversary in the cockpit.  The Crow wondered what the pilot was thinking as Jenkins started the kinetic motivators and jumped towards his death.  As the young Crow rushed through the air he could see the pilot scrambling for his sidearm.  The Lion knew it was too late but he had to do something.  Jenkins landed against the steel frame of the cockpit and hung there for just a moment.  He saw the pilot bring his gun to bear and thought that this wasn’t so horrible of a death.

Before the pilot could squeeze the trigger the grenades in Jenkins’ hands exploded around him.  Jenkins’ hands split apart from the blast and the force of the explosion slammed him back against the ground in a bloody cascade.  Shrapnel was scattered around his body and he lost consciousness almost instantly.  The pilot was just as unfortunate.  The blasts were enough to crush his helmet against his skull.  There was no living thing left to witness the machine falling to the ground.

A remote drone filmed the last of the spectacle and kept the footage rolling as the smoke and fog closed back on the site of the explosion.  Soon enough even the silhouettes disappeared and the remote drone flew on to more exciting things.

-

Douglas Finnegan sat in the break room and read the news off of his phone.  He thought that it was enough that he played at being informed.  The announcer knew that none of the real news ever got through the corporate services, but it gave him something to talk about if someone asked him what he thought on an issue.  Douglas could at least seem like an intellectual.

He was eating the rest of his lunch when he saw Eric walk in and close the door behind him.  The overweight sports announcer suppressed the groan that was coming from his throat and tapped at the next article on his phone.  He thought that maybe Eric would leave him alone.  Douglas grabbed a slice of his tangerine and bit into the thing absent-mindedly.  It was a bit too ripe and some of the juice escaped his mouth and ran down from the corner of his lips.  He grabbed his napkin and quickly tried to wipe it away.

“Be careful, there, Sean,” Eric said as he grabbed his coffee and sat down opposite Douglas at the table.  Douglas did what he could not to sigh in disgust.

“That’s not my name, Eric.”  Eric laughed and stirred his coffee with his index finger.

“Maybe not, but you respond to it, don’t you?”  Douglas looked up at the television celebrity and supported his neck on his hand.  He grabbed a bit of skin behind his ear and pinched it.  He hoped the pain would be enough to distract him from attacking his coworker.

“What do you want, Eric?  I’m just trying to eat my lunch here,” Douglas said before pinching himself again.  It wasn’t quite working out like he’d wanted it to.  The lead anchor of the most popular television program in the Earth Orbit System threw up his hands and smiled.

“I’m not trying to stop you, buddy.  Just making idle chat,” he said before setting his hands back down and lifting up the coffee to his lips.  He just peered at Douglas over the rim of the cup with a strange look.  Douglas shook his head and went back to looking down at his phone.  He read the next headline and wondered if he really wanted to hear about the terrible lines at the toy stores for the new set of pseudo-pets.  The announcer sighed and clicked on the link anyway.

“Anything crazy happening in the world?”  Douglas looked up to see Eric looking at him with a half-smile.  Douglas wondered what the man really wanted and why he was going about it like this.  He decided to ignore it for now and looked back at his phone.

“Maybe.  The news wouldn’t tell us if it did.”  He read about one mother’s experience trying to get the new robotic kitten for her daughter.  It was a trial, apparently.

“The tragedy of our times, Doug.  Wouldn’t it be great if we could know?”  Douglas looked up at that statement and saw that Eric’s face had changed.  Instead of the smiling, charismatic expression that was usually plastered on his face, Eric was uncharacteristically serious.  Douglas could see real concern on the man’s face and wondered if he really knew Eric at all.

“There are plenty of tragedies for our time.  We make money off of one of the worst ones,” Douglas said before looking back down at his phone.  He was suddenly even less interested in the best-selling toy of the day.

“You’re right.  I feel guilty every day.”  Douglas’ eyes widened and his head snapped back up to look at his coworker.  He couldn’t believe that he had heard those words coming out of Eric’s mouth.  This was the kind of man who flaunted his celebrity and bedded every girl who looked like a model.  To hear the man admit his guilt, even in the break room, was astonishing.  But Douglas looked at the man and could see remorse painted across his face.  Either he was telling the truth or Eric was an even better actor than Douglas had thought.

“If you feel guilty than why do you do this?  You are one of the people who benefit the most from the games.  Why do you endorse it if it hurts your conscience so bad?”  Douglas couldn’t keep the venom from seeping into his voice.  These were more attacks than questions.  He was lashing out at the man who Douglas had always seen as the most corrupt and vile of them all.  It didn’t matter that the man seemed to be acting out of contrition.

“I know, Doug.  I know.  It’s terrible and I know I seem like the worst kind of guy.  But,” he said before looking back at Douglas and letting his gaze flicker.  Douglas could swear that tears were being held back.  “God, I really shouldn’t tell anyone this.”  Douglas looked at his coworker and let his gaze soften.  He wasn’t going to get any answers by attacking the man.  He set his arms on the table and tried to remove the hostility from his stance.

“You shouldn’t tell anyone what?”  Douglas was more curious, now.  This celebrity had absolutely no reason to talk to him, and Eric had made a habit of making fun of Douglas in the past, but it seemed like there was more to the man than being reminiscent of tormentors from school.  Eric ran his hand through his perfectly-coiffed brown hair and Douglas knew the man wasn’t acting.  Makeup had teased that thing for ten minutes; the celebrity wasn’t thinking straight.

“It’s just so hard doing it by myself like this.  I know there are others here, but I have no idea who they are.  It’s all so secretive.  It’s just… when I look at you I know you’re not part of it, but I think you can understand.  You’re not like the rest of them,” Eric said before rubbing his forehead with his left hand.  Douglas looked at the man and wondered what he was going to say.  Anything was possible at this point.

“What’s going on Eric?” Douglas asked.

“I’m part of the Eris Freedom Initiative, Doug,” Eric said before looking down at the table and rubbing his eyes.  Douglas couldn’t believe the man.  There was no way the lead anchor of the War World program was part of a resistance movement.  It just didn’t seem possible.

“How?  Why?  Why tell me?”  Douglas could see that Eric was having difficulty looking him in the eye.  There was a tense silence for a few moments before the celebrity answered.

“It wasn’t always like this.  I was happy being up there in front of the cameras for a long time.  But do you remember when I said that Jenkins kid reminded me of my cousin?” he asked before bringing up his gaze to look at Douglas.  The man was doing his best to hold back his anguish.  He breathed out deeply and wrung his hands on the table before continuing.  “Well, he wasn’t my cousin.  He was my half-brother.  He had my mom’s last name so nobody really picked up on it.  He got into some bad trouble with a casino and they basically sent him off to War World.  I don’t think I’ve had a bender quite like the one I had when I learned about it,” he said before sitting back in his chair and staring at the wood grain of the table.

“God, he was just a kid.  He lasted only a few games before he tried to off himself.  Something happened then; something changed him.  They let me go down to the blasted asteroid for some special and I was able to talk to the guy,” he said before leaning on the table and beckoning Douglas closer.  Douglas couldn’t help being absorbed in the story and leaned in to hear the man.

“He didn’t even recognize me, Doug.  He didn’t act like himself.  It was like they replaced him with an identical twin.  I came back here to Earth and just fucking lost it.  I started doing a lot of drugs and drinking every night and put my dick in everything I could,” he said before shaking his head and sitting back down in his chair.  Douglas remembered when that happened.  Eric had almost been fired for those antics but since the notoriety increased the ratings for the show the network heads let him keep his job.  Douglas had just thought the man was being hedonistic like always but now he saw the broken man that had committed those acts.  For the first time he felt pity for Eric.  The man looked back up at Douglas and sighed.

“That’s when the EFI reached out to me.  They had done their homework and figured out why I was slumming it like that.  They told me to keep quiet about it, but when the time was right we’d do a special broadcast.  We’d take it all back and help all those people.  They told me I could bring my brother back,” he said before letting the misery fall from his eyes.  “How could I say no?”

Douglas sat back and tried to take in all the information.  He wondered how the man had been able to keep up his shiny, plastic face all these years when behind his eyes he was filled with self-loathing and the desire to see his brother again.  Douglas shook his head and then realized the consequences of this confession.

“I sympathize, Eric, I really do.  This is actually the first time I’ve ever liked you, but why the hell did you do this here?  And what if I was going to turn you in?  Did you think this through at all?”  Eric just smiled and shook his head while staring at the ground.

“You weren’t going to tell anyone.  I could tell how much you hate all of us.  I think that’s why I wanted to tell you.  You’re the one decent person here, or at least the only one who’s not undercover.  I could see you hating this job.  Frank and Sam are fucking jokes.  Patrick’s brain-addled and useless.  I have no idea about anyone else.  It may seem desperate and stupid, but I knew you were the only one who would understand.”

“As far as the whole thing being stupid, well, this is the last place they would look, right?  It’s the break room of the program designed to advertise the games.  I don’t think they’d watch us.  I’m a face and you’re a voice.  Outside of television we’re worthless.”  Douglas heard the man’s words and tried to disagree with him.  His way of thinking made a little sense, but the whole thing was incredibly foolish.  Douglas rubbed his forehead and then ran his hand through his hair.  He let it rest on the back of his neck and then sat back in his chair.  He looked at Eric and could see the sad smile across his face.