Forged(57)

“You’re like a fly, Gray,” he says in that silky voice he commands, so smooth it made me once trust him. “A pesky nuisance that keeps buzzing around, creating just enough trouble to royally tick me off.”

Frank walks around the platform, bringing his fingers together in a mellow wave. Pinky to pinky. Ring finger to ring finger. His eyes are piercing—murderous—as they lock with mine.

“Gray, something’s been troubling me. There are roaches crawling around the outskirts of my cities. They are greedy and ungrateful. All they do is consume. They eat and take and they grow their colony. They think there’s a better way because they don’t realize that they are pests, that they will destroy any chance of security and safety with their ways. They are trying to invade my domed paradises that keep out the evils of the world.

“I thought you might help me deter them, but to be perfectly honest, you no longer seem worth the effort. The intel you’ve given up is mediocre at best, and the longer I let you scurry around, the stronger these pests seem to grow. You’re fueling them. Dangerous, don’t you think? To let people believe in something that won’t actually help them?”

I grunt.

“What can you offer them, truly, besides a silly newspaper and the wild impracticality of blind hope? They’ve latched on to this idea that I’m the roach, the evil that needs to be removed, but I built them these hives. I kept them safe when the world was rotting. I gave them water when everyone else was parched. No, I think I know how to deal with them now, how to stamp out this growing infestation.”

He pauses, lacing all but his pointer fingers together, which he brings to his lips.

“You are expendable, Gray. In fact, I think watching your life bleed out during the Sunder Rally might be the best way for me to show just how little power these Rebels have, how they’ve invested all their energies in a losing battle.”

He plans to execute me, then. Publicly. Perhaps broadcasted to all his domed cities. Fine. That will give Harvey the perfect opportunity to do his work.

“Unless . . .” Frank moves very near the platform, so close that I can make out the wrinkles surrounding his eyes. I could probably kick him if I were brave enough to risk trying. “Unless you are finally willing to cooperate. Unless you have some information I might be able to use to my advantage.”

“Like Headquarters’ location?” I bluff.

“Oh, no. I already took care of that.” He runs a forefinger along the edge of my platform and glances up at me. “What is being planned? Some sort of strike, correct? Your people have your spies, and I have mine. I know something is in the works. Details, or your life.”

“These threats mean nothing to me,” I say. “Not when anything I say will be used against people—to punish them, imprison them, destroy them. That’s all this has been: you on a power trip, thinking your way is the best way—the only way—and forcing it on everyone.”

“You think this is still about governing?” He laughs. “My father was always trying to fix the country, the men in power before him tried to do the same. But the truth is that the government isn’t broken. People are. I’m fixing people, Gray. I’m making a world where people are grateful and fair, where they follow rules and laws, where order trumps all.

“I crafted Forgeries to fight AmWest, to keep them at bay; and now I will use them to secure a new social order for all of AmEast. Laicos. Social. This has always been about people, Gray. I birthed five societies when the project started. They’ve birthed the most loyal, dedicated soldiers imaginable. The best type of citizens. Worthy citizens.”

“You’re crazy,” I manage. It’s a lame response, but I can’t come up with anything else.

“People who don’t want order are the crazy ones. You are the outlier. Your people are the terrorists. You threaten our way of life, you try to tear down the world we’ve created. My people thank me, Gray. I’ve given them everything—safety, security, protection from the West—and the Forgeries can uphold that. They will be the new Order, one that never fails or tires or thins. They will carry on what I’ve crafted long after I’m gone. Although perhaps I’ll never be gone either.”

He smiles at this and my stomach clenches.

If the fail-safe doesn’t work, it won’t matter how many papers Bea prints with my face on them, or how many Rebel supporters go around whispering her clever slogans. The Forgeries are limitless, and people are only so many. They will be run into the ground.

“Tell me what you roaches are planning,” Frank says, “or it’s your own execution.”

“I’ll be dead either way, so I think I’ll avoid betraying my team as my final act.”

He steps away from my platform, a half smile on his lips. “Roaches have wings, Gray, but they’re not the best fliers.”

The platform lurches beneath me and slowly begins to lower. I scramble to my feet, look up toward the ceiling. The rope is still slack.

“You killed Marco in a similar manner, did you not? Such a stellar soldier, Marco. Perhaps one of the best humans I had working beneath me. Felt like a Forgery sometimes given how loyal he was.”

My platform keeps sinking. Slowly. Painfully slowly. I pull on the rope as hard as I can, hoping in vain that it will snap.

“You can hang now, or you can tell me the Rebels’ plans and die a martyr for them later. Harvey can even do the honors. It will be just like last year, only reversed.”