Sneak (37 page)

Cheswick tapped an icon on his desk, and the connection went

live, a holographic face appearing in front of him.

“Sir,” Cheswick said nervously. “Thank you for returning my

call.”

The head in the hologram nodded slowly.

“As I am . . . sure you are, by now, aware . . . the protests have been . . . growing. They are . . . coordinated, it seems. Across the country. Not just the cities, but everywhere.

“As for New Chicago . . . Markless here have made it . . . too difficult, I’m afraid, for my agents alone. We have only a hundred agents here. The numbers we’re looking at on these streets . . .”

Cheswick sighed, calculating a quick estimation in his head. “By now? I’d guess we’re looking at . . .
thousands
.” He paused, and then he said it again. “Many thousands, sir.”

The hologram before him nodded.

“Therefore . . . General . . .” Michael Cheswick could not believe he was asking for this. He knew how weak it made him look. “I am requesting the assistance of the International Moderators of Peace.”

The head nodded again, more slowly this time.

“I do realize, sir, that we’ve yet to use Cylis’s army in such
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a . . . high-profile capacity. Nevertheless . . .” Cheswick cleared his throat. “Things are escalating quickly, sir. The sooner our response . . . the more forceful our response . . . the better.”

General Lamson was still for a full minute. His gaze, even

across the hologram connection, was penetrating and laser focused.

“Is that . . . may I take this as confirmation, sir?”

The gaze continued, unrelenting.

And Michael Cheswick cleared his throat. “. . . Sir?”

6

The scene in City Center was pure chaos. The Markless—Dust, as they all now called themselves—were out on the streets, shouting slogans, blocking traffic, engaging the Marked Beaconers around them in friendly debate.

DOME’s forces were not enough. Agents set up barricades

that were easily trampled by the mob of the Dust. Police stood with shields that did nothing to stop the protesters.

The Dust marched on. Toward the Capitol Building. Where

they would camp on the steps. Where they would dare DOME to

retaliate, for all the Marked world to see.

7

There was only a handful of Dust left down in the control room deep under Beacon; Peck, Blake, Tyler, Meg, Rusty, Hailey,

Shawn, and Erin stood huddled around the old security feed

of the fission reactor, monitoring any sign of movement from

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below. Erin and Shawn had hacked it together, turning it on for the first time in years.

“So far, so good,” Blake said.

“Yeah,” Erin agreed.

“And you really think this’ll do the trick?” Peck asked. “You

really think they’ll release the IMPS?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Erin said. “But we’re certainly asking for it.”

“I still don’t understand,” Shawn said. “How did you know that this might even be possible? What was it you saw on that page you found? What did it take to bring the IMPS out of their shell the first time around?”

Erin looked uncomfortable. “Oh. It doesn’t matter,” she said.

“We can worry about that once this is over.”

“Well, now you have to tell us!” Tyler demanded.

Erin waved him off.

“Come on! Settle it by bet? I have a game we can play . . .”

Erin rolled her eyes. “Biological warfare, if you must know.

Don’t worry about it, all right?”

But Peck narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean, biological

warfare?”

“It’s just this . . . this
thing
DOME’s had planned from the beginning.”

The whole group stared, now, at Erin, very eager for her to

continue.

Finally, Erin did. And once the floodgates were open, the words came out fast. “They give us shots when we Pledge,” she said. “I always figured it was a numbing shot. But . . . turns out it isn’t. It’s a vaccine. DOME’s been inoculating its Marked citizens since the very first Pledge.”

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“Inoculating you for
what
, exactly?”

“For . . . well . . . for a situation like this, actually. For a time when they might feel the need to just . . . wipe all you

Markless out.”

For a moment, no one among the Dust dared even to breathe.

“Project Trumpet. It’s . . . a plague, basically. Deadly. They’ve been keeping it in their back pocket, just in case the Markless ever got out of hand.” Erin looked uneasily from one member of the

Dust to the next. She clearly didn’t want to be thinking about this, much less talking about it.

“So now what?” asked Blake. “You’re saying they’ve unleashed

it on us?”

Erin shook her head. “On the contrary.” She laughed a hollow

little laugh. “DOME screwed up. Turns out these inoculations . . .

they aren’t protecting us Marked from the plague. They’re making us sick.”

Peck crossed his arms. “I don’t understand.”

“You see, this plague . . . it was actually unleashed a long time ago. It’s been in the air—all around us—for a long time. Since the beginning of DOME.”

“Okay . . .”

“It’s a nanovirus. DOME took this crazy flu strain, and they

used nanotech on it. Makes the virus totally dormant . . . until DOME turns it on. Until they sound the trumpets, so to speak.”

“Project Trumpet.”

“Exactly.” Erin laughed halfheartedly again. “Anyway. With

the G.U. treaty about to go through, and with you Dust raising a real stink back over the summer . . . well . . . Cylis must have decided it was time. Time to turn on this virus . . . time to take care of you Markless once and for all.”

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Erin smiled now. “It was the perfect plan, really. As long

as DOME kept its secret, the whole thing would just look to us Marked like those unhealthy skinflints were getting sick and dying on their own. Cylis would be blameless. No PR hassle, no needing to explain himself . . . as messy as biological warfare is . . . politically, it was his cleanest option.

“
But
. . .” Erin sighed deeply. “Instead, DOME flipped the switch and turned the nanovirus on and discovered that this nanovirus isn’t actually
catching
if you just breathe the stuff, or if you ingest it. Turns out the virus doesn’t spread like a cold or flu
at
all
.

Because of a mistake in the nanotech modification process, this virus now only spreads by blood. So all you Markless are safe. In fact, the
only
way for the virus to infect a person is if it’s actually injected into you—into your bloodstream—like with a needle.”

A slow look of understanding washed over Peck’s face.

“What? What? Guys, I don’t get it,” Tyler said.

“You see, Tyler,” Erin explained, “the way vaccines work . . .

it’s not like other medicine. It’s not something that treats the illness, the way antibiotics kill bacteria, for example. Vaccines work by actually
giving
you a weakened version of the virus. That way, your body’s immune system can learn to fight it in its weakened state, and if your body is ever infected for real, it already knows how to handle it. It knows how to kill it, right away, so that the real virus can’t hurt you.”

“Okay . . . ,” Tyler said.

“Well, so, here’s the joke of it,” Erin continued. “That vaccine nanovirus that DOME’s been injecting into the Marked? It’s been dormant too, this whole time, right in the bloodstream. And now that it finally
isn’t
dormant, DOME is learning that—‘Oops, sorry, everyone!’—even the weakened state of the nanovirus, once it’s
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turned on, is more than powerful enough to make a person deathly sick.

“DOME’s vaccine didn’t inoculate anyone. All it did was

infect us. And now that it’s ‘live,’ we Marked”—she pointed at herself now—“are the ones starting to drop.”

Tyler’s eyes went wide.

Peck nodded slowly. “So that’s why Cylis is so intent on push-

ing the G.U. treaty through Parliament—he knows it’ll never pass once this news leaks.”

“That’s right,” Erin said.

“But . . . when will it all happen?” Blake asked.

“No one knows yet. It could be slow in coming or it could be

fast. There’ve only been a few cases of it so far. They’ve contained the outbreaks by assassinating the sick, covering up their tracks with stealth missions by the IMPS . . . but according to reports, it’s probably just a matter of time before every last Marked is . . .

well . . .”

“Wait a second,” Blake interrupted. “Erin . . . wait . . . then . . .

but . . .
you’re
Marked . . . so that means that you . . .”

Erin shrugged. “Look, let’s not get all weepy about it, all right?

One thing at a time. Right now we’re all on the clock.” And she turned back to the tablescreen. “Come on,” she said. “Focus. Let’s run through this plan again.”

8

By the end of the day, the IMPS were mobilized and moving out.

The Dust could see them as little blinking dots on the fission reactor’s hacked security feed.

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“I guess it’s time,” Peck said.

Erin nodded. “I guess it is.”

“Everyone clear on this?” Peck asked. “Rusty, you hold the fort up here. Everyone else, we descend. Meg goes first. When we get in there, Meg, you run straight for any guards left in the vestibule.

There shouldn’t be many now, the way they’ve been leaking out

these last few hours.

“When the coast is clear, Erin, we use your Mark at the sign-

in desk to call the elevator. Then, Erin, you stay behind and hack computer security.”

“Just give me five good minutes with it,” Erin said, “and I’ll have Acheron’s security feed as useless as the tycoons who designed it.”

Peck smiled. “Spoken like true Dust, Erin.” And Erin didn’t

even flinch when he said it.

“Shawn, you stay right with Erin,” Peck continued, “and do

whatever you have to do to erase all those Markscan traces she’ll be leaving behind. You’ll cover our tracks all along the way—can you do that?”

“Dude. Please. I’m the Tech Wiz!”

“Fine.” Peck rolled his eyes. “Everyone else, we cross the holding room, board the elevator . . . and we hope against hope that it accesses every floor. We need to take that thing all the way to level nine to get Logan and Jo and Eddie. No matter how awful it gets. We take them. And somehow . . . we make it back up.” Peck looked around. “Anyone not crystal clear on this?” he asked.

The Dust all glanced around at one another. Everyone knew it

was hardly a plan at all. Everyone knew the odds of success were slim. But no one spoke up. It was time to move in.

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