Rebel (Legend, #4)(76)

There’s a silence, followed by a few murmurs that none of us can make out.

Min speaks first. “You are, by far, the worst agent I’ve ever recruited,” she says. “After this is all done, you will stand trial, as well as your brother and those working around you.”

“It won’t be the first time I’ve been on trial,” I say stiffly.

“After this is all done. The President will issue a temporary pardon for you. When you land, the military will be there to greet you and assist, as is practical, with what you need. You will have AIS resources.” She sighs. “And I hope, for your sake, that your plan works. I’m not holding my breath, though. Don’t make me pay for your funerals out of the AIS budget, Wing. I don’t have the balance for it.”

“You won’t have to,” I reply. “You might want to set aside a fund for our parade, though.”

“I hate you, Wing.”

“And I love you, Director.”

Anden’s voice comes on again. “Commander,” he says. “I expect you to be careful. I don’t want to appoint someone new. Understood?”

June bows her head. “Of course, Elector.”

And that’s it. The call ends, and far below our plane, the clouds close in.





EDEN



My thoughts are a jumbled mess when we land. Through the airplane window, I can see the skyscrapers of Ross City piercing the view below us as we hover over the landing pad on the top floor of one complex.

Looking at the cityscape sends chills along my spine. Plumes of smoke billow from the Undercity all the way up to the sky, cutting the air into light and dark streaks. The enormous virtual markers that usually hover over the city, names of buildings and cumulative scores of its residents, the lights that would wash the buildings in bright colors … that’s all turned off. What’s replaced it are troops lined up in battalions on several of the higher floors, monitoring the elevators.

I remember scenes like this from the Republic, from the days when we couldn’t be sure if the nation would still be standing at the end of its war. But to see Ross City—Antarctica—without its blanket of technology, is to see a superpower suddenly vulnerable and exposed.

I lean back in my seat and close my eyes for a second as we start to land. Hann’s face swims in the darkness, grave and deadly.

“Hey.”

I open my eyes to see Pressa beside at me. Her hand is warm against my upper arm.

“You’re not going to be alone down there,” she reminds me.

Alone, this would be overwhelming. With Pressa here, though, maybe, maybe, we can do this. Still, as I watch her dig in my backpack to double-check the supplies she’s brought with her, I feel a pang of fear. This is no longer a game I’m playing with my own life.

Daniel leans closer to us both, but when he fixes his eyes on me, he doesn’t mention how pale I look. Instead, he holds out a small, flat phone and a tiny, insectlike drone. “The phone’s for you to contact Hann,” he says in a low voice that only he and I can hear. “He’ll probably confiscate it from you as soon as you’re in, so there’s nothing else on it.” He nods at the drone. “And once you’re in, we’re not going to be communicating via any type of signal.”

I study the drone he hands me. On it is a nail-size chip. It’s the patch that I’m going to install on the Level system when I try to bring it back online. A patch that will alter the system to something different from what it originally was. A revolution within a revolution.

“So hold out your wrist,” Daniel tells me now.

I do. He takes a wet cloth, swabs my wrist with it, and then wipes it on the drone. It instantly lights up with a faint green mark, then fades back into its black color.

“This will track you down and deliver any message we need to send to you. Use it to send a message back. It’ll only deliver one round before it self-destructs. Anyone who isn’t you or me and tries to tamper with it will get a nasty surprise when it simulates a bug bite and then erase its drive. Got it?”

Already, my attention has shifted to how the insect drone functions. It’s solar-powered—I can tell from the sheen of its shell—and its metal body looks so much like a real cockroach body that I want to recoil from the way it flicks its antennae.

“Got it,” I repeat. “I won’t be able to transmit back to you, not until I figure out what our options are if we get to Hann.”

“When you do,” Daniel corrects me firmly. Uncertainty flashes in his eyes, but he just looks away and leans back.

AIS agents are waiting for us when we step off the plane. Their uniform black suits blend into one as they line up at the base of the steps, giving respectful nods to June. They greet Daniel too, albeit warily. There are several soldiers here too, in their gray and green uniforms.

I fall into step behind them as we make our way down the elevator. Through the glass windows, we get a better view of the chaos that has engulfed the city.

“Things have calmed a bit,” one of the agents tells us as we go. “Martial law is firmly in place. Curfews are set for nine at night.”

“And the Undercity?” Daniel asks.

His skeptical tone makes the agent turn slightly red. “It’s under control,” he says, as if to defend himself. “We’ve rounded up and jailed a lot of the protesters.”