Wiped (8 page)

Oh no. He was right. This changed things dramatically.

I stared at the Cardinals surrounding me. At Beck and Trent and Alan. None of us wore marks. And getting one would prove troublesome.

“What now?” Trent murmured, as if talking to himself.

Storming Urip had just got a whole lot harder.

And it had already been hard enough.

T
he creepy crawlies
came back at midnight. News of the u-Pols’ frustration lightening the mood of the Lunnoners underground. But the humour vanished within minutes, as Merrikan soldiers quietly spread themselves throughout the room, following the children like silent wraiths inside.

The Lunnoners hadn’t seen them enter, and if we hadn’t been expecting them, and therefore looking for them, we might have missed their arrival as well. Carstairs had trained them well. Or the Merrikans really were that good.

Several old women screamed, making the others join the furore. And then mayhem ensued until the old D’awan in the corner called for order. His eyes sought out mine; he did not look amused.

“What is this?” he demanded in D’maru.

“Our backup,” I replied honestly, but I wondered just how much of a backup they were, and how much of an invading force they might be.

Irdina stepped forward then, matched in dress to the soldiers. She’d blended in so well even Alan had missed her. But although her presence amongst the soldiers should have been a welcome sign that Carstairs was still in charge, it only raised the hackles along my back.

I dreaded to think what it did to Lena.

I glanced at Lena now, but her face was Elite impassive. No hint of discomfort or surprise. No hint of the heartache she’d felt at the false death of her father. I knew she felt it. I knew she was constantly reliving it. And there was not a thing I could do about that.

Save back her. Stand up for her. Defend her at all costs.

I forced myself to relax, giving the Lunnoners and the Merrikan soldiers the same message. Leaning back in my seat, I swung a leg over the arm, the picture of casual repose.

“The u-Pol officers were still at large,” I said in D’maru. I wasn’t sure if all the Lunnoners could understand it, but evidence had proven that many still recognised their old tongue. “You can’t expect us to remain sitting ducks forever.”

A creepy crawly shuffled forward just then, reaching out to the shining laser gun attached to the thigh of the nearest soldier. He bristled immediately, taking a step back and raising the gun. The barrel sighted on the kid’s forehead.

“Easy,” Lena murmured, her own hand on a gun at her side, out of sight of most, but not to me or the soldier. “He’s just a child.”

“Tell him to move back,” he ordered in Anglisc. Merrikans didn’t speak D’maru.

“Take a chill pill,” Alan countered, just as alert as the rest of us. Masking it just as well.

This was about to escalate, and already our welcome underground had not been a given. Most of the Lunnoners avoided us. But they couldn’t ignore our presence completely. Quiet whispers and hushed words, all of which were clearly resentful, had abounded. Accompanied by unhappy looks and angry glares.

We were here under suffrage. We knew it. They knew it. The soldiers didn’t care.

“We just killed their men,” Beck said softly in Anglisc. “Have a care, Sergeant.”

“They attacked us,” the Merrikan ground out between a clenched jaw, his narrowed eyes on the nearest child, but the quick dart of his gaze let you know he was watching everyone.

“They had no choice,” Lena offered. “Kill or be killed. But it’s worse than that,” she added.

“How can ‘kill or be killed’ not be the worst?” Irdina demanded.

Lena levelled a highly amused and extremely dismissive Elite look at the Mahiah, and said, “Kill or have one of those taken by the u-Pol killed, because you failed to carry through with your orders. Do you value your life more than your family’s, Masked?”

Irdina frowned at Lena’s name for her and for those who had been wiped and returned. She may not wear a mask now, but the caste moniker had stuck. Irdina, I was guessing, didn’t like being labelled. She had clearly been Elite in her former Wánměi life. What she had done to deserve wiping was anyone’s guess. But then, it could have been a family member who had condemned her to exile.

She wanted back in. That was obvious. But she wanted back in on her terms and no one else’s. Being classed as a Masked was not on her agenda. Irdina was a reformed Citizen. The epitome of New Wánměi. Lena had just thrown her back into the past.

“You trust them so easily, Elite?” Irdina threw back.

“They have paid with their lives,” Lena said steadily. “For a crime they did not commit. Would you condemn them to more?”

“I would keep my guard up,” Irdina said with a hiss. “And not be fooled by appearances.”

“If we took appearances for granted, Mahiah, we would not be the nation we are.” Wánměi did not discriminate on looks alone. Race was irrelevant. But caste? Anyone could be Elite or Cardinal or Citizen. Hell, at the end there, just about anyone could have been Chief Overseer.

We’d had a few of those. And they’d not all been Elite.

Irdina slowly relaxed her shoulders. She hadn’t drawn a laser gun, but the threat had been there. Quietly, she ordered the soldier to lower his own. He still stared the child down with a heated look. Daring him to come closer and see if he’d follow her command.

Tension was thick, but our presence had already set the tone. The Merrikans' arrival only added to the mix.

What now?

I turned toward the elder, offered a raised eyebrow in question. If he wanted us gone, we’d get gone. But we still had an invasion to plan, and I was guessing his knowledge would be vital.

He wanted Urip contained as much as we did. He wanted his Lost, his Wiped, as much as we wanted our own.

The old man slowly nodded his head. It was the best we could expect in invitation.

“Tattoos,” I said to Irdina as she approached our corner. The sergeant following her like a shadow-guard. “Do you know how to do one?”

“Or mimic one?” Alan offered. I glanced over my shoulder at him, brow arched. “What?” he said with a shoulder shrug. “I don’t want to wear one of those things for the rest of my life.”

Lena looked toward the elder; it was obvious what she thought. Heartache on their behalf. Rage and guilt followed. They were marked. They always would be. Should we have a choice when they never had?

“What sort of tattoo?” Irdina asked, taking the seat Alan had just vacated for her without question.

I had questions. I had a lot. Like why the hell my second in command was kowtowing to a Masked? I smothered the snort that wanted out, and focused on the Mahiah. She
was
beautiful; smooth dark skin, curling head of black hair framing high cheekbones and angled eyes layered in thick lashes. Just Alan’s type.

I threw him a warning look. He ignored me. Sometimes I wondered how I managed to lead the rebels at all.

“Do you mind showing our friend your tattoo?” Lena was saying to the elder.

He shuffled forward on his seat and pulled the ragged sleeve of his shirt up, displaying the telltale sign.

“Barcode,” Irdina said immediately. “Coded to your genetics?” she asked the old man in D’maru. Either Calvin had advised Carstairs, or the ex-Elite was extremely smart. Both were valid options. Both had me on a razor’s edge.

“I am unsure,” the elder said, “but the u-Pol can identify us by them.”

“This could prove a problem,” Irdina admitted, examining the tattoo more closely. “Do you have a scanner to read this?”

“No. They are attached to the u-Pol. Here,” he said, indicating his right arm. Indicating exactly where our iPol drones had placed their e-scanners.

Irdina sat back, contemplating the issue, as the old man covered up his arm again. I got the impression they kept them covered for a reason. To forget? Or to not be reminded?

“We need one of those scanners,” Irdina declared. “Without knowing what information the barcode contains, we cannot duplicate it successfully.”

“Why not copy the Lunnoners’ barcodes?” Alan asked.

Irdina flicked her attention to Alan and then just as swiftly let her gaze sweep away. A light flush marred her cheeks, as if looking at Alan affected her in some way.

I shot my best friend a cocky look of approval.
You the man!
He grunted something under his breath, but kept his eyes locked on Irdina. I was thinking it might take a lot to make him look elsewhere ever again.

“We could, but it would be a risk,” Irdina was saying in reply to Alan’s question. “What if their barcode says they should be contained in Lunnon and nowhere near Hammurg?”

“That’s more than likely,” Lena agreed. It didn’t sound reluctant. And if I didn’t know better, I’d say Lena was extending an olive branch to her father’s protégé.

“Then we get a code scanner,” I announced, backing Lena all the way.

If this was how she wanted to play it, then so be it. What Lena wanted, she’d get.

I was done being angry at her. I was done letting her slip away. It was time to show my Elite that I’d meant it.
I would stand wherever she needed me, for however long she desired.

I would stand right beside her through hellfire, if that’s what she asked of me.

“And how do we do that?” Alan demanded.

Irdina opened her mouth to reply, it looked like it might have been snarky. Alan had clearly bitten off more than he could chew with that one. But Lena beat her to it. Her eyes lit up, shining brightly, her back straight, her hair gleaming in the low light of the room.

So stunning. The picture of promise.

“Nirbhay,” she called out, and instantly her creepy crawly appeared at her side, eager and ready. Irdina and her soldier jumped at his sudden appearance. Alan smothered a snort. Lena just smiled.

I could have drowned in that smile. I was thinking perhaps Nirbhay already was.

“Yes, Lena?” he said in that pidgin Anglisc. Calvin translating in our ears, but we didn’t need it. I’d kinda got used to the weird language they spoke.

“Where are the u-Pol officers now?”

“The palace,” he said proudly.

“The palace?”

He nodded his head and pointed in a westerly direction. If my rudimentary mental map was telling me right, he was pointing back towards where we’d found them, not far from Victoria Station. Which meant…

“The palace remnants surrounded by a large expanse of open ground,” Calvin offered succinctly in our ears. “Open ground we’ll have to cross in order to reach them,” he added, merely to rub it in.

“You won’t be crossing anything,” I grumbled, just as the radio on Irdina’s side squawked.

She picked it up and said something indistinct into it, but we all heard Carstairs’ reply.

“You don’t need to cross anything,” he said, his distinctly deep voice steady, but his words making it obvious that he’d listened in on our channel right from the start. “They’ve already moved on from there.”

“Moved on?” Irdina repeated. “To where?”

I knew the answer before he gave it. I was already looking towards Lena and wanting to shield her from the oncoming pain.

The u-Pol had lost us in The Underground. But they learned quickly from their mistakes. The Lunnoners knew the city well below the streets, better than the u-Pol at a guess, because they lived in it. But the u-Pol ruled the streets aboveground. Just like sPol had ruled ours.

I reached for Lena’s hand, giving my fears away. She sucked in a startled breath, just as Carstairs said, “Moved on to here.”

The sound of laser-fire was swallowed by static, and then we were all moving.

I
realised something
, as we ran through what was left of Lunnon's Underground to reach him, there was nothing to forgive. There never had been. He was my father. He was alive. Why hadn’t I seen this?

My pulse thundered in my veins, setting up a beat inside my temples. Sweat coated my skin, a fine layer attracting every particle of dust in the heated underground air. Rocks tumbled ahead of us, as our feet kicked up loose debris and sent it flying. I stumbled more than once in my eagerness to reach our base.

We’d left the children behind some time ago, our pace faster than their little legs and hunched backs could manage. I knew they were still following, despite my efforts to order them to stay where it was safe. But we’d arrive at our temporary base well before them, of that I was certain.

What would greet us, though, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. But still I found the courage to ask.

“Calvin,” I called, my breaths all but panted with exertion. “What’s happening up there?”

“The u-Pol officers are attacking the base,” he replied immediately, in the steady tones of a computerised programme.

“My father?” I all but rasped. “Is my father all right?”

Calvin paused. The hesitation said more than words could ever convey. Computer programmes only pause when they are calculating something that requires heavy RAM usage. But this hesitation spoke volumes in this regard.

Calvin was not just a computer programme. He’d been designed by my father. And his reluctance to answer now broke my heart.

“He is fighting, Lena,” he finally said in my ear.

“Faster,” I whispered, the command for myself, but I was sure Trent had heard it. He made a sound. I didn’t have time to consider what it meant. My heart was fracturing at an alarming speed as it was. I didn’t need his pain on top of my own.

My father had been a guiding light in my childhood. Someone to look up to and respect. He’d been accomplished and well regarded in Overseer circles. Often outspoken, but that had made him seem more omnipotent than rash. I knew my love of Wáikěiton was due to him. I knew my command of all our spoken languages was a result of his insistence that everyone should be considered equal, and therefore one tongue was not superior to another.

He’d had such brave ideals for our city-state. He would have supported Trent’s tagline: One Wánměi. Freedom, perhaps, hadn’t been his ultimate goal, but solidarity certainly had been. He believed in our nation. He believed in our people.

But most of all, he believed in me.

And I’d wasted so much time staying angry at him. For what? For surviving? For taking too long trying to get back to me, when the borders were still closed? For teaming up with other Wiped in those efforts?

For being alive when I’d thought him gone for good.

I’d grieved my father’s death for so long. I’d rebelled against the system the only way I could, in order to feel something other than heartache. I’d endured years living under the same roof as General Chew-wen.

My father had suspected what Chew-wen was becoming, just as he’d suspected what Shiloh would do. Yet he’d still had Chew-wen as my guardian in his will.

I’d had no choice but to move to Ohrikee. My father had planned it that way. But why, when he’d put in place something to counter Shiloh, had he not put in place something to protect me from Chew-wen?

It was a question I should have asked him. And now I was unsure if I’d ever have the chance to.

“Update?” I ordered Calvin.

“The base is taking heavy fire,” he replied steadily. “Some soldiers have succumbed.”

Such a euphemism. I hated it and I needed it. But it didn’t make it any easier to ask about my father.

We climbed out of Lunnon’s Underground into a starry night. The moon was lower in the sky, indicating the passage of time. The notion seemed fitting. If I’d had an hourglass, the sand would almost be out.

Our thundering footsteps sounded out on the quiet night air, but we were still too far away to hear the laser battle at the base. As breathless as I was, I urged my legs to go faster, my lungs to expand, sucking in mouthfuls of air. My muscles ached, my head pounded with every heavy footfall. The skeletal remains of a dead city flashed by my face.

They’d split us up on purpose, I realised. The age old adage of
divide and conquer
. The Merrikan soldiers who ran beside us remained silent, their booted feet barely making a sound as their lethal eyes darted ahead of our progress. Scanning the environment for threats. I was sure they wouldn’t find any. The u-Pol had one goal in mind. Destroy our base, and in the process lure us to them.

How long could those soldiers who’d remained with my father survive?

We heard the laser-fire before we could see the dust rising. We heard the shouts of men as they died. My legs slowed down, even as my heart rate sped up. Cardinal Beck passed me on one side. Irdina on the other. The Merrikan soldiers who accompanied us swarmed around my body, as they too overtook my slower strides.

“Lena?” Trent asked, as Alan swept past on the tail of the Mahiah woman. “What is it?” He thought I saw a threat.

I only saw the breaking of my heart.

“I can’t…” I’d never been a coward. But so much had been left unsaid, and I was too late now to even try.

“Baby,” Trent murmured, slipping his hand into mine. “You don’t know…”

“They’re outnumbered. Out gunned. He’s in a wheelchair, Trent. I
know
.”

Trent stopped completely, stepping into my path and cupping my cheeks, lifting my gaze to his. Steel blue stared down at me as the street we were on became quiet. Gunfire could be heard up ahead, Beck and his Cardinals, the soldiers who’d accompanied Irdina, all joining my father’s fight.

I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t breathe.

Why had I not forgiven him before now?

“Lena,” Trent snapped. I blinked up at him, feeling the wetness of tears on my cheeks. “He needs you. Now.” I stared at him. “Wake up, baby,” he murmured. “This is war. I know it hurts, but you’re a fighter. I know you are. You can do this.”

I slowly nodded my head, sucking in lungfuls of agony-filled air.

“I’m right beside you,” Trent said softly. “I’ll be right there.”

I nodded again, this time more convincingly. And then started running.

The scene was a nightmare. I knew it would be, but somehow it was unexpected. Who is prepared for war? And this was a war. Merrikan soldiers were shouting orders. Beck was following them, as if he’d done so a thousand times before. I couldn’t see Irdina or my father. But I saw death.

Everywhere. Scattered. Irreverently discarded. Life thrown away with nothing more than a careless thought.

Kill or be killed. It seemed so simple. But it wasn’t.

I started returning fire immediately. Trent slipping in behind the cover I’d commandeered. Our laser lights lit up the night sky, joining the dozens of others, streaking across the street outside the base.

They’d breached the building. What remained of it. The most solid structure we’d been able to find, and it was as if it had been mere paper. Tears and rips in its hide. Blood seeping out of its windows. Screams and cries sounding out on the air. Ours and theirs.

At least they weren’t metallic.

As soon as the thought reached me through the numb haze of warfare, I realised how awful it sounded. If the u-Pol had been drones, killing them would have been easier.

But they were humans. Like us. From a different part of the world. But flesh and blood, just the same.

The small consolation of them being Uripean did not assuage the guilt I felt. Enough men had died on Lunnon’s soil already. I still felt shamed by my part in the Lunnoners’ deaths.

But these men… these men
were
the enemy. There was no question of that.

I lifted my laser gun back up and sighted down the barrel. For the next ten minutes I became a killing machine. Bile coated my tongue, but I kept on firing. Shakes racked my body, but I squeezed the trigger again and again. Nausea competed with saliva, so close to winning. And through it all, I pretended my father still lived.

By the time we made it into the building itself, the street was awash in blood and coated in the dead. We’d brought twenty Merrikan soldiers with us. Half a dozen Cardinals. Four rebels. And three Wiped.

They’d had a squadron of u-Pol. Twenty men. It should have been easy.

War is not logical in the slightest.

Alan killed the last u-Pol officer. None of us had the desire to keep one alive to question. His knife entered his chest, directly above his heart. He died instantly. Not so some of the others.

Death is not always kind.

I broke rank as soon as the last u-Pol fell. Running through the detritus of a dead city. Dodging the new blood it had sacrificed. Not daring to count our losses. It didn’t matter. It was over. They knew we were here. We’d already failed.

Irdina was with him. In that moment I hated the Mahiah. She’d reached him first. She hadn’t faltered. She’d blazed a trail through the u-Pol men, cutting a swathe of laser light fury to get to his side. Her dark accusing eyes met mine. I could have gouged them.

But then he shifted. An agony-filled movement. But he was still alive.

I skidded to my knees next to him. For a moment, I thought Irdina was going to reach out and stop me from touching my own father. I growled something at her; I don’t know what. She hissed something back.

It was Trent who pushed her aside. And Alan who lifted her up off the floor, while she kicked and screamed, and pulled her out of sight.

I knew it was wrong. She obviously loved him. He’d become a parent to her too, it seemed.

But he was my father first. And I couldn’t do this with an audience. I wasn’t sure I could do this at all.

Because he was dying. No question. Not with a wound that size in the centre of his chest.

“Daddy,” I said on a sob. Oh no. Why now? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. I’d just found him again. “I’m sorry,” I managed, but my words were barely audible. I was crying too hard for my lips to form the right sounds.

“Baby girl,” he said, whisper thin, coated in pain, blood pooling in his mouth.

“No.” It was all I could think. All I could say. All that mattered. NO! Not now.

“I love you,” he gasped, struggling to manage the pain. “Don’t ever doubt that. So proud. You’ve been… the light… in the… dark.” It was getting harder for him to speak. I wanted to reassure him. To tell him to save his strength.

I wanted so much right then, that I couldn’t find the correct words.

His blood stained hand reached out to mine. I grasped it immediately. It was large and calloused, just as I remembered. So much bigger than mine. So safe and secure.

And cold.

And weak.

“Daddy,” I said, pulling on every last ounce of strength I had to say the words aloud. “I don’t wan’t to lose you again.”

His eyelids fluttered. Then with Herculean effort he opened them, searching the air around him as though blind. Perhaps he was. But then they locked on someone. I followed his gaze to Trent.

“Take care… of her,” he said on panted breaths.

“Yes, sir. Always,” Trent replied without pause.

My father’s eyes found mine again, as if called there by a powerful magnetic force.

He’d been such a force of nature in my life. So vibrant and capable. So intelligent and all-knowing. So determined to do right.

Right by his daughter.

Right by his fellow countrymen.

Right by those we’d thrown away. The Wiped.

“Don’t go,” I begged, even though I knew he couldn’t give me what I wanted this time. “Please.” Logic doesn’t have a place in saying goodbye. I knew I was saying it. I
knew
. But I still asked for the impossible. I still pleaded with God and life.

“My baby girl,” he whispered, lifting his free hand slowly, laboriously. It had to have hurt.

“Stay still,” I admonished, because it wasn’t enough to have not forgiven him until it was too late, I had to order him about when he was dying.

His hand fell down across his stomach, the weight of it causing immeasurable pain. His face was already pale, but it became ghostly. Greyish. His lips thinned. His eyelids shut tight. But he fought it; the call to succumb. To let go. He fought, like he fought everything.

Stoically. Determinedly. Bravely.

His fingers fluttered. I reached for his free hand, holding both, connected the only way I could now.

And felt something in his palm. He opened his fingers and let the small object fall into mine, his eyes on me, already clouding.

“Daddy?”

“For… Calvin,” he said, so softly I had to lower my head, turn my face, place my ear near his pale lips in order to hear each sound. “For… you,” he added, a rattle starting up inside his lungs. “For… Wánměi.”

It was always for Wánměi. Everything he did. Everything he lost. Everything he sacrificed.

I pulled back, already lost and unsure. The words on my tongue, the taste of them rolling across my lips.

What do I do? Where do I go now? How do I be the person you think I can be?

But he was gone. Face serene in death. His hand cooling in mine. His place in my heart assured forever.

Everything he did, he did for Wánměi.

Everything he did, he did for a better world for his daughter.

I’d done my crying. I’d grieved him once already, but this time it scoured me out and left me hollow. I stared down at the man who had made me who I was today, for better or worse, and I silently promised him that I wouldn’t stop trying.

That I wouldn’t stop fighting for Wánměi. For the world. For the solidarity he’d believed so much in.

And I’d start with Urip.

I leaned forward and laid a soft kiss on his forehead, forcing myself to pull away and stand to my feet. When I turned to face those of us who had survived the u-Pol attack, I noticed the sad, shock-filled faces, bleak eyes watching and waiting.

Trent moved closer. Cardinal Beck shifted to back him up. Simon followed suit automatically. And Irdina stood quietly to the side, Alan right there with her.