The Neo-Spartans: Altered World (39 page)

              Julius hadn’t blinked. His dispassionate stare was like a saw on Nico’s nerves.

              “Well, that ain’t happenin’. Come on, man, what happened to family and the special bonds we have down here… a truckload of BS, isn’t it?”

              “The instinct for survival is stronger than anything.” Julius’ voice sounded detached.

              Nico’s anger erupted faster than he expected. He grabbed Marisol out of the armchair and shoved her in Julius’ face.

              “Stronger than this?! Look at her. She’s yanked out of your hands, placed on an operating table and cut into spare parts so they can go into some rich jerk’s body.”

              Marisol started shaking, brought to tears by Nico’s words. She looked so frightened and helpless that Julius jumped out of his seat and pulled her out of Nico’s hands and into his big protective arms. His face was red with fury. Nico had broken the stone wall.

              “This is who they were going to harvest… kids. Still convinced your survival instinct is stronger than anything?”

              Julius refused to answer.

              “We have to live with the choices we make, Julius. Now tell me you’re gonna be okay, looking into her eyes every day with a clear conscience—that you are personally responsible for terminating another kid’s life just so you can squeeze a couple of more years for yourself?”

              Julius had covered Marisol’s ears, and in his mind was ripping Nico into so many pieces. “You blasted son of…” He tried to rein in his rage. “Can you blame me for wanting to be around her?!”

              “You still can be. But not through some atrocious quickie procedure, Julius. Do it our way…” Nico noticed Julius lifting his eyebrow and quickly corrected himself. “I mean their way. It works. I did it and I can feel it. Hey, maybe it won’t let you see your grandchildren, but you’ll have enough time to see her grow up. And who knows, if we change the way we live… anything is possible.”

              Julius observed Nico’s passion and hope.

              “She turned you into a believer, didn’t she?”

              “It’s not that hard to believe in life.”

              “So, what exactly do you want me to do?” asked Julius.

              “Start a riot. Keep Grisner busy.”

              “You have no idea who you’re trying to mess with, kid.” Julius looked at Nico as if he had completely lost his mind.

              “Exactly. And now that Grant Hughes is gone and there’s nobody to keep him in line, maybe you don’t want to find out who you’re really dealing with either. Just don’t let him take control.”

              Julius rolled over the new concept in his mind. It sounded appealing. Marisol had quieted down in his big arms. He looked at her and when she granted him her trusting smile, it helped him reach the decision he knew he should make. He took her hand and put it in Nico’s.

              “You’re more loco than your sister. Stay here and keep her safe.”

              He signaled his bodyguards and headed out the door with determination. Just before he left, he turned one last time to Nico.

              “The family stuff… ain’t no BS.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

              Grisner and a remnant of his SDF were positioned in the surveillance room, eyes glued to multiple monitors, getting instant feedback from the developments in the Sanctuary. Something had happened in the last fifteen minutes that Grisner hadn’t foreseen. He wasn’t surprised when Quinn’s public address stirred pockets of social discontent here and there. It wasn’t anything that the SDF couldn’t handle. He expected the Sanctuary to go a couple of notches crazier than everybody else, but he also knew that these people would get rowdy just for the sake of it, and once they got it out of their systems, they’d go back to their daily routine of mindless existence. But this was not what his monitors were showing. The Sanctuary was rocked by crowds of rioters who had appeared from various sections and poured their destructive activity around the Citadel and the major arteries of the area. They seemed organized, as much as one could talk about organization in a rioting mass.

              Grisner put this problem out of his head for the moment, and directed all his effort and concentration into finding Quinn. The girl was proving to be more experienced than he thought. She had pulled off such a vanishing act that no cruiser or camera was able to locate her. He knew she was hiding somewhere and eventually would show her face when she attempted to get out of the Sanctuary. He had to be patient and observant. So he leaned back in his chair and focused on the screens.

* * *

              Magda and Quinn stepped into the street, thick with human masses. It was a shock to see so many people moving like heavy currents after a torrential rain. They were shouting, looting, rampaging. Quinn knew this was created for her benefit, but the roiling mass unnerved her a bit, and Magda had to nudge and guide her in order to make any progress. They found a stream of rioters that was moving toward the outer wall of the Sanctuary and joined it. Magda jumped and shouted, throwing her fist in the air, really blending in. Soon her face got flushed and Quinn could tell she was getting the vibe of the crowd, letting loose her sincere anger at those who had ruined the lives of so many people. Magda noticed that Quinn was being pushed and shoved by the weltering crowd like some piece of debris and she leaned in and screamed in her ear.

              “Unless you’re anxious to get your close up moment on the security cams you better get into the spirit.”

              She grabbed Quinn’s elbow to make sure they didn’t get separated and continued jumping and chanting with the rest of the protesters. Feeling a little self-conscious, Quinn joined her and soon discovered the energy of the crowd was flowing through her. Her fist went up and her voice was raised in a spirited chant. “More life,” she bellowed. It felt good. She felt strong. She was going to succeed.

              Back at the Citadel, Grisner was trying to process what he was seeing. The riot had gathered momentum, paralyzing the whole area. The SWAT troops interfered only enough to keep the Sanctuary from complete combustion while they searched for Quinn. Grisner knew they were nearing the moment of the inevitable clash. He needed to find that infuriating girl before it all became a complete mess. His eyes darted from screen to screen. Three times his eyes almost paused at the monitors that featured two colorful spots in the crowd, but he dismissed them as the usual whack-jobs who dress like parrots and join every protest without knowing what exactly they were protesting. He kept scanning, looking for the unusual pattern that would tell him he was closing in on Quinn. Nothing stood out. He got restless. He sank into his chair, but something on a monitor made him stop and look closer.

              “Zoom in!” he barked at the technician. The guy enlarged the image of the area. Right outside of the Sanctuary wall was one of the loudly dressed “parrots,” scurrying along, taking off the brightest of her accessories. Grisner cursed. He looked around at the other monitors and spotted the other “parrot” now walking away from the wall perimeter. How could he have missed that! Of, course, that was the pattern he should’ve noticed. Quinn and whoever was helping her had outsmarted him. He was mad, but at the same time the fact that she had tricked him so well gave him a buzz. She was a smart opponent and a delight to pursue. He instructed the technician to isolate the image and send it to the security units outside of the Sanctuary. His hand reached for the communicator and his commanding voice was transmitted over the radio waves.

              “Units four and five follow her progress but do not arrest. I repeat, do not arrest. Just make sure you stay invisible and keep her in sight ’til I get there.”

* * *

              The SWAT vehicle shot out of the tunnel and burned rubber as it careened through the narrow alleys of the Sanctuary. Grisner, behind the wheel, plowed through everything in his way, his primal hunter instinct pumping adrenalin. He was going to catch this girl no matter what, but a meteor shower of bricks, stones and Molotov cocktails rained over the vehicle. He cursed and stared through the bullet-proof windshield trying to spot an opening, a possible route through the endless sea of people that spread ahead of him. He leaned on the horn and put his foot on the gas pedal. The black, blaring beast of the SWAT vehicle lurched forward and knocked a bunch of people out of the way. They staggered and fell to the side, opening space for the car but not for long, as their angered compadres swarmed around it, banging their fists on the hood and the windows.

              “Sewer rats!” Grisner spat at the side window behind which was the angry face of a rioter mugging at him. He looked at the monitor in the car, showing him the position of the other SWAT vehicles he was in contact with, and picked up his radio.

              “Get this blasted infestation out of my way. Now! Tear gas them, neuro-blast them, I don’t care.”

              After a few moments there was a movement in the crowd. It started breaking up into segments as rioters met with the tear gas and the paralyzing neuro-beams of the riot troops. Grisner seized the opportunity, gunned the car and watched with glee as people ran like frightened poultry. The day Grisner would be stopped hadn’t arrived yet. He pushed forward and made it to the main gate, separating this crazy borough from the rest of the city. The moment of gloating didn’t last long. Rapid explosions and black smoke billowed from every direction and suddenly Grisner saw the multitude of people surging menacingly toward his vehicle as if the dam walls that were holding them had finally broken. The minute they spotted the hateful SWAT car, they descended upon it like scavengers on carrion. They rocked and pounded, determined to smash its resistant shell. A baseball bat appeared in the hands of a frenzied Banger, and he took to the arduous task of smashing the bullet-proof window.

              Grisner knew he wasn’t going anywhere. But he also knew he wasn’t going to let a bunch of raggedy denizens get the better of him. He made sure his neuro-blaster was charged, and he sat calmly and watched the crowd batter his car as much as they could and finally pick it up and overturn it.

              The minute the armor-plated beast landed on its side, Grisner sprang to action, crawled through the bay and out of the back hatch, discharging the neuro-blaster. Bodies were flung back, and he mercilessly carved a corridor for himself through the crowd. He knew that violence bred more violence, and the initial source of it was quickly forgotten, so he kept moving as fights broke out in various directions. Whoever obstructed his progress met either his meaty, unforgiving fist or his neuro-blaster. When Grisner got to the Sanctuary main entrance, the crowd was embroiled in meaningless skirmishes and nobody paid attention to him as he slipped out.

* * *

              Quinn moved through the city, sticking to the evasive techniques of the Neo-Spartans, switching routes and making sure she was losing even the most expert followers. She had shed most of the colorful accessories she had gotten from Magda and was blending in with the rest of the citizens. It helped that crowds were gathering throughout the city in response to her broadcast. The wrath of the people hadn’t blossomed yet. They were still processing the explosive information she had delivered, and the ones whose discontent had manifested itself the quickest were on the streets peacefully chanting “More life.”

              The situation was far from that of the riotous Sanctuary, but it helped Quinn get lost when she thought she most needed it. She kept checking for Grisner’s special troops, but they were nowhere in sight. This wasn’t exactly a relief because her cool reason told her she wasn’t that good and Grisner was not that stupid. Quinn was sure his twisted mind had concocted some hideous plan for revenge, yet she had no way or time to figure out the finer points of it. She had to get to the Neo-Spartans. Her survival instinct drove her forward, except there was something else she thought was pushing her even harder than the desire for shelter. She wanted to make sure her people were safe.

              Quinn had started something huge. It went beyond saving her brother and blowing the whistle on what was really going on in the Eugenics society. She had upset the social balance and those who were at the top would take out their displeasure on the Neo-Spartans. This time she knew her people couldn’t afford to lay low and play the survival game. This time, they had to take the risk of stepping up and becoming the avant-garde of change before it was too late. And somehow it rested on her to make this happen. Quinn stopped and felt the wind brush her flustered face. She wasn’t scared, she was excited.

              She moved with purpose and before she knew it, she had reached the monorail terminal station just as the train thundered through it and came to a stop, wheels grating against the steel track with a high pitched screech. Quinn merged with the boarding crowd. The train peeled away from the station, and Quinn’s thrilling new sensation gathered speed together with it. She thought of her father and for the first time the memory didn’t make her heart ache. She was proud to be a McKenna. Her eyes burned with the rebel flame and she almost missed the slumped-shouldered figure that was making its way toward her. There was Gabriel, standing in front of her. The moment of surprise gave her a jolt. Gabriel took half-hearted notice.