Revolution Page 2

  * * *

  “What the hell are you watching?”

  Ava stepped into a dining hall where he was eating. A movie like fight between two swordsmen, Mason and Carter was projected on a screen from a device in front of him. At the top of the screen were the live viewing figures. They were modest, but climbing.

  “You kidding me? These guys are a blast,” he replied as Mason charged at Carter once more. He slashed with a heavy blow, and Carter leapt back with an agile slip of his feet, but the tip slashed a few millimetres into his chest. His shirt was cut open, and a trail of blood seeped from it. Carter winced for a moment before smiling once more. He was enjoying every minute of it, even the pain being transmitted straight to his brain through the V.

  “We fight for a living, and you want to watch this fake crap for fun?”

  He had no words. He knew it didn’t make a lot of sense when said like that, but he didn’t care, as his attention remained focused on the screen.

  Carter lunged forward and swiped at Mason’s head. His keen edged sabre blade sliced the mounts holding the moustache-decorated faceplate from his helmet, cutting into his chin in the process.

  “Come on, at least watch a decent fight.” Juan touched a control at the base of the tiny projection module. It reverted the controls to the pad on his arm, and he quickly flicked through the channels.

  “Hey, come on, I’m watching this,” protested Ward.

  But Juan flicked the channel over to another fight in a vast arena with tens of thousands watching. Ward laughed for a moment, assuming that it was an ego trip having such a vast fake crowd. But the viewing figures showed that the real audience wasn’t far short of the number screaming and wailing on screen. A huge muscular man filled the screen. His upper torso was naked besides a single metal shoulder guard on his right arm. He was cut and bleeding from two minor wounds. He was so incredibly muscular that it had to have been gained with the help of narcotics. He was holding out a huge two-handed sword that looked like it weighed ten kilos, and he was roaring at the crowd as if to bring them to a frenzy.

  “What the hell is this?”

  “You haven’t seen Luca Hayes? He’s great.”

  “Come on, guys, this is sad.”

  But they both ignored Ava as the camera pulled back to show that they were in something resembling a boxing ring, just slightly larger. The ropes were made from braided steel, and the gleaming steel plate in place of canvas. His opponent was not a small man, but Luca towered over him. He was dressed as a Viking, with a wooden round shield and straight double-edged sword. His head was bare and bleeding, as if whatever helmet he’d been wearing had been knocked from his head.

  “Don’t you ever get tired of this?”

  Axel was already shaking his head.

  “What harm is there? None of it’s for real.”

  “What harm, Juan? We’re fighting to bring peace to this region. What hope is there if all people are interested in is this?” she protested.

  “Come on, if this was the only violence we saw in the world, things would be great,” replied Juan.

  She sighed, realising she was not going to get anywhere. They were fixated on the fight as Luca flexed his muscles and swung his giant sword around like a lunatic. He was moving in huge arcs, not only to intimidate his opponent, but playing to the crowd. He finally brought the blade down like a sledgehammer. The Viking darted aside and narrowly missed it. The blade struck the steel floor, and sparks flew as if the blade was electrified.

  "Come on, this is theatre, nothing more," complained Ava.

  "And what's so wrong with that?" Juan smiled as he watched Luca swing the blade around again. His opponent could not close any ground as the blade flurried around in wide circles with surprising speed. All of Luca's muscles strained and shone for the crowd to marvel at. It was a grotesque spectacle, and too real for Ava's liking.

  "And if this were for real?"

  Luca's blade crashed into the Viking's shield, obliterating it into a dozen pieces as its wielder was launched off his feet and crashed into the steel ropes, collapsing face first on to the floor.

  "Ooh!" Juan yelled as he laughed at the entertainment.

  "Tell me that isn't some quality entertainment?" Victor asked.

  "It's horrific. We see enough horrible things in our work, why would you glorify them?"

  "Come, Ava, don’t sound so disgusted. This is nothing like what we do. Might as well compare a daily compute to a race car driver," replied Axel.

  "No, because the intent is the same. A racer wants the thrill of the race, and to win. It's no different."

  "So you think we do this for the bloodlust of it all?" Axel sounded offended that he had to defend their work.

  "Maybe it is. You didn't come out here because of any orders or duty, did you?"

  "Of course not, we came for pay," replied Victor.

  "Yeah, and maybe because even if you aren't willing to admit it, maybe, just maybe, you like it? You like the chaos, the killing, the insanity of it all."

  "Maybe so, but then how are you any different?"

  "Because I want something more from life than this. I won't go home looking for more battles to fight, real or not."

  Juan laughed. "You're taking this way too seriously, Ava. This is a little light entertainment. Nobody is getting hurt."

  "No? Haven't you heard about the connect to the neural pathways? They are feeling pain now. What they are doing is becoming more real every day."

  "But nobody is dying, are they?" Axel asked.

  "Not yet, but people always want more, don't they?"

  Axel sighed and sat back, unwilling to reply, knowing he would make no headway with her.

  "Come on, this is entertainment. Let us have our fun," said Juan.

  "Sure, have your fun watching people fantasize about killing each other."

  "Not like it goddamn matters anyway. Wherever this is going, we won't live long enough to worry about it." Victor pointed to a news bulletin screen on a wall beyond their projection. Axel closed his video feed so they could watch it. A live address from the President of the Americas, or that is what it said on screen, as it was one of his advisors on screen, identified as Piper Hughes.

  "Thank you all for waiting. I give you the President of the United American Nations, Leo Simmons."

  "It looks like she is in the wrong job," Ava said, admiring the cool headedness of the woman compared to the firebrand they were awaiting.

  Simmons stepped up to the podium. He appeared calm, confident, and powerful. Not cocky, though. He looked like a man in the right place for his time and place.

  "Thank you all for coming."

  They were waiting anxiously for his next words. Every day that went by they expected a declaration of war, or to hear that the nuclear arsenals of the key powers in the world had been launched. Everyone knew it was inevitable, and anxiously awaited it to be announced with every waking moment. It haunted their dreams at night.

  "I am here to address the latest escalation by President Dun. It has been my hope that we can avoid war, and I still believe in that possibility, but I cannot do this alone. Dun is a loose cannon, a man who is not fit to rule a nuclear nation. I call on his people to see this and understand what is at stake. I wish them no harm, but I will not risk American lives, no matter what the cost. Please understand that. War can be averted, and violence, too. But know this, if Dun continues on this path of suicidal insanity, I will unleash the full power of the West against him. Nuclear fire will rain down on all the lands for as far as he can see. Do not test me. Do not underestimate the Americas. We are strong together, and I will not stand to hear threats from anyone! Thank you."

  He strolled off the podium as a barrage of questions was launched, but he didn't wait to hear any of them.

  "Well, shit," said Ava.

  The rest of them didn't get her complaint.

  "You don't get what is at stake here, do you?"

  "Nuclear war, yeah, yeah, yeah, w
e've heard it all before. Do you know how long it’s been since anyone used nukes?"

  "Not long enough, Juan, and that was tactical, when both sides didn't have them, no less. If that happened again today, do you have any idea how bad it would get?"

  "Bad enough that it wouldn't matter to any of us. We'd be dead. So let's enjoy our time, however long we have," said Ward angrily.

  The doors behind them burst open, and a familiar face came through. It was their intelligence guy, Ned Baldwin. He wore glasses that looked like they had come from the start of the century, and he looked flustered, more than normal.

  "Sergeant, you need to see this."

  Axel didn't seem to give a damn until he noticed a piece of digital projection paper that was shoved on the table before him. It showed the map of their last mission. He could see it was serious, and that plucked his interest.

  "What is it?" he demanded.

  "The EMP. It wasn't just to disable you. It was to stop you seeing this. "

  "What?" Eva gasped as she rushed to Axel's side to see what he was looking at.

  Chapter 2

  Murphy High School, Portland, Oregon

  United American Nations

  “Luna, Luna, Luna!” the children screamed as their teacher strolled down the corridor between them. They parted the crowd to let her pass as if she were royalty among them.

  She strutted through as though she owned the place. Twenty-five years old, and yet she was the most respected and loved teacher in her school. She wasn’t unintelligent, but that was not the asset she used to win the praise of her students. She wasn’t the most educated or the best at imparting knowledge, but she gave her audience what they wanted. She was beautiful, but also capable as a fighter, and willing to flaunt all her assets for fame. She wore close fitting jeans and a red tank top with a short, black leather jacket over it. Her long blond hair flowed loosely. She looked more like a style icon playing a role.

  “Is this what it has really come to?” An older female teacher asked as she walked past.

  Luna heard her comments, but pretended to not notice. She didn’t care for what the naysayers had to say. In her eyes, they were bitter relics of a bygone era. The crowd continued to cry her name. The kids were mostly young teens and enjoying every minute of it, boys and girls alike. She was a superstar to them, and to many others who would be tuning in.

  She stepped into the staff room, and the door sealed behind her. A few of the younger teachers and assistants were as excited to see her as the students were, but most of the others did their best to ignore the whole thing. She took a seat and put on her V set.

  “Come on! Let’s do this!” she yelled excitedly.

  Some of the older teachers were shaking their heads, but she couldn't see them anymore as she descended into the virtual world.

  "Welcome back, Luna. How are you today?" Ziva asked.

  "Ready to rock and roll," she said excitedly.

  She reached out with her hands to scroll through options on a display screen before her. She selected Polish Hussar, and in a flash she was standing on a snow-capped ground in a forest clearing, dressed in the steel armour of a Polish cavalryman, and atop a gleaming white horse. She was wearing a crimson flowing coat beneath her cuirass that was well cut to her body. It showed off her figure while still providing protection up to her neckline. Her head was bare so that her hair blew in the ice-cold winds. She was a magnificent sight to behold, part warrior and part model. It looked more like a scene from a movie than anything real, and that wasn't so far from the truth. In her right hand she carried a long and thin lance, ready for anything, and relishing every minute of it.

  Outside the room were lines of students all watching. Many had projection screens running from the pads on their arms, and were huddled around sharing the experience with friends. Others had V sets on so that they could be more immersed in the experience. Further down the corridor was a geeky looking boy. Fourteen-years-old. No friends surrounded him as he watched from an old flip screen tablet. He didn't care that he was behind the times, only that he could watch the fight. His named was inscribed on the base of his tablet, Rex Gagnon. He wore glasses that looked like they were twenty-years-old, something few bothered with anymore, since laser treatment was so common. He was skinny, wore clothes a size too big for him, and lacked any confidence, but he was passionate about one thing, Duel Reality. He watched his teacher with a smile on his face, studying her every move, mimicking her movements with the lance as she tested out the balance.

  The screen suddenly went black as the signal died, followed by resounding groans and boos from along the corridor.

  "Oh, come on," complained Rex quietly.

  His screen flashed to life once more with a shadowy figure in silhouette, wearing dark clothes and the face in shadow.

  "Not this asshole again," complained one of the kids nearby.

  But Rex was intrigued by the mysterious messages that had been broadcast by the hacker. The figure was silhouetted against a flag that resembled the UAN one in style, itself a modified version of the old USA stars and stripes. But the stripes were black and white, and the stars panel was black. Instead of stars it had the shapes of dozens of people, as though they represented a mob. He listened to what the shadowy figure had to say.

  "This is another announcement from the only free voice. Corporations continue to rule your lives. They tell you where to go and what to do. What to buy and what to think! You may not see it, but you are not in control of your own life. The United American Nations has been at war, but you are not allowed to see it."

  The screen transitioned to a view of combat in some far away land. Liberty drones fought across a battlefield, and older armoured vehicles belched smoke as they rumbled forward to engage them.

  Plenty of the equipment looked to be of American manufacture, both current and surplus, but there was no sign of UAN identifiers. Buildings in the distance lay in ruins. It looked like a wasteland, as if it were a perpetual battleground. The voice went on. It was distorted and deep, clearly intended to mask the voice of the man.

  "You are ruled by people who do not deserve your loyalty. Think for yourselves. We live in an age where people can gather in great numbers at a moment's notice. We have a chance for change. Make the powers that rule you be scared. Together we are strong. This message of truth is brought to you by Incognito."

  The signal ended, but Rex wanted more. He was captivated by it. For a moment he had forgotten about Luna's duel altogether, but the students around him began to cheer as the signal ended, and they awaited the return to the fight they had been waiting to see for days. Finally, the video feed returned to Luna. She was exactly as she was last time Rex had seen her, as though she had simple been paused.

  "Isn't somebody going to so something about this?" she complained.

  Incognito had clearly fed her the same message. It was annoying to many of them, and few even considered listening to what he had to say. Yet he was sparking Rex's interest. He had always been an outcast. He didn't think like the others, and so this masked outsider with wild ideas was all too appealing to him. But for the moment his mind wandered right back to the fight, and the dazzling rider displayed before him. The viewing angle cut to an over the shoulder shot from Luna that showed three riders approaching. They wore long white tabards of the Knights Templar. All three matched, with swords raised high as they charged, their chainmail gleaming in the sun. On their heads they wore flat-topped helmets with visors reaching down over their faces. Rex smiled as others around him cheered and giggled with excitement.

  Luna kicked her stirrups into the horse and soared forward for her attackers fearlessly.

  "She can't do this, no way," said one of the boys near Rex. But he shook his head as he smirked. He knew better.

  The riders were closing rapidly at thunderous speeds now, and everyone held their breath with anticipation. At the last moment, Luna veered off enough to miss her attackers, planting her lance into the chest of th
e horse of the rider on the left flank of the three. The blade drove home and snapped the hollowed lance. The horse collapsed immediately, and its rider was thrown five metres through the air before crashing into the snow and dirt.

  "Yes!" Rex yelled.

  He got a few funny looks. He wasn't popular, but they were too busy watching the fight to bully and ridicule him, and he was full immersed in the duel now. Luna circled her magnificent steed about and came to a standstill. She tossed aside what remained of her lance as her opponents circled back around to face her once again. Their body language had changed already. They were angry, but they had also lost some confidence, clearly expecting to have wiped her out on the charge.

  The knight on the ground looked stunned and was trying to get back to his feet.

  "Where did she learn to ride like that?" asked a girl near Rex.

  He couldn't help but reply, even though it wasn't welcome.

  "You kidding me? Miss Lee learned to ride, to shoot, to fight, and to dance from age four. She's a badass."

  The two girls nearest to him looked put out that he knew more than they did, and they chose to ignore him, going back to their screens. The fight enthralled everyone, yet Rex shook his head at how little most of them knew. Many were simply there to see their teacher fight, but few really knew anything about her like he did.

  "I don't get it," said one girl, "Why just be yourself when you can be anything in the V?"

  Once more Rex couldn't help himself, as he was too excited and blurted out an answer.

  "You can do that in any game. People love Duel Reality because it’s about real people, and not fake."

  "It's all fake," the girl snapped.

  "So if I was playing, and looked and fought like Luna Lee, you'd watch it?"

  The girl shied away, finally realising what he meant. Her face scrunched up in disgust.

  This was a love and hate relationship of the game for Rex. He loved how real it was, but also knew he could never get far, for he had no real following at all, and likely never would.

  * * *

  All their attention was drawn back to the fight as the Templars went at Luna once again. This time the two cavalryman approached with a little more caution, and less mindless aggression. Luna reached beneath her saddle for a huge, long blade that ran almost the whole length of her horse, and drew it out. On the screen above they watched it flash up to signify her weapon of choice - the koncerz, a dead straight, almost one and a half metre blade. Yet it was triangular in construction and hollowed out on every edge so that it was agile and stiff, but without any ability to cut. A typical stirrup shape guard, for what was in essence more a small lance than a sword, covered her hand.