“Selena, shoot me and I might tell.” Shocked gasps ricocheted off the buildings. “You won’t get far,” he added.

  The last of the conversation was lost to Shiloh’s agitated electronic voice, drones starting to use force on the unarmed Citizens who dared to continue to watch.

  But it didn’t matter, because some of them still managed to see. And those that did called the attention of the rest of them with their sudden screams of terror.

  The drone on the recording had just woken up.

  Cries of “Impossible!” sounded out. “How did it recover?” asked in Wáitaměi. “Watch out!” another remarked in D'maru. “They are alive!” a final person yelled in our nation’s most dominant language: Anglisc.

  Si pointed a finger back at me, to indicate I was on camera again.

  “Shiloh has evolved,” I said, my voice amplified somehow by Simon. “She is no longer controlled by the Overseers.” More screams echoed from below, this time panicked, but my words were getting through. “The Cardinals have gone into hiding. To save themselves. Elite and Citizen must unite! For survival. For our nation. For us.”

  I sucked in a breath of air and shouted, “One Wánměi!” Raising my fisted hand in the air and receiving similar shouts from Xiu Ying and Zhang Jun who stood either side of the billboard, watching the chaotic scene unfold below.

  They must have been seen and heard by those out on the street, because cries of “One Wánměi!” resounded up and down Broadway. Copying the teenagers. Imitating me. Shouts in between the drones. Cries from balconies and shop stoops. As they picked up whatever they could and started to attack the machines en masse. As a riot started, bigger than any our city had experienced before.

  I walked over to Simon, once he’d indicated the recording was over, and watched the various street-cams he’d hacked throughout the nation. Wherever a billboard stood, chaos ensued.

  “Holy fuck,” he said, looking up at me, even as he kept swiping the screen to bring up more and more images. “You’ve started the revolution.”

  I let a breath out incredulously. “The revolution started long before me.”

  “No, Lena,” he said softly, closing the laptop screen down as we’d seen all we needed to see. “The revolution was in the making for ten long years.” He pointed toward the yelling and shouting and screeching metal on metal down below. “It started just now.”

  “But how do we end it?” I asked. He shook his head.

  “Maybe we don’t. Maybe they will.” Another finger point to the street.

  But these were ordinary Citizens. Untrained. Ration dosed. Waking up from complacent stupors. They could not be relied on for this.

  “It’s a good distraction, “ I agreed. “But we need to get to Shiloh.”

  “Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “Trent’s instructions were clear.” He turned and started dismantling equipment, packing it away with determined force. “We go to Muhgah Keekee and wait for the others at the pub.”

  “Drones will be everywhere billboards will be,” I countered. “And the riots will gain momentum.” My turn to point, this time at the screen, where Si had run my address on a loop and we could hear it playing. “They will spill over into other suburbs. People will disobey curfew tonight,” I said, glancing at Xiu Ying and Zhang Jun as their heads flicked between watching the street and watching us, eyes wide, mouths agape. “This is a grand distraction for Shiloh that we could never engineer again. We go tonight.”

  “With what?” Si demanded, hands on hips, gear all packed and ready to go.

  “We’re armed,” Xiu Ying offered, helpfully in her mind, I think.

  Si waved a hand at her dismissively. “I don’t know how to break the algorithm,” he said, perhaps the only thing he could have said to make me pause.

  But not enough.

  “We find her. We kill her by conventional means.” I pulled my laser gun from my thigh holster and fired it up.

  The whine sent a chill down my spine, but punctuated my statement most effectively.

  “You are reckless,” he announced. “And I will not be the one to aid in your death. Trent would kill me.”

  “I’m quite capable of making my own life and death decisions, Simon.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t have the keys to the car,” he pointed out with a somewhat forced grin. “And I dare you to take the rap-trans, now your face is on perpetual display for all to see.” He stilled. “On second thought, I don’t dare you. You’re mad enough to accept.”

  “I’m not waiting in a dingy pub while Wánměi fights.”

  “Lena,” he said with a long sigh, just as his shortwave radio beeped.

  I sucked in a breath, praying it was Trent about to congratulate us. Knowing our luck didn’t stretch that far. On a night when the city exploded, at a time where the blinkers were torn off. There would be no more luck.

  “Come in,” Simon said into the radio.

  A crackle. The sound of gunfire that sent a jolt through my body and all blood to drain from my head. Dizziness assailed me, even as Xiu Ying moved in to wrap an arm about my waist.

  “Under attack!” More distortion as Si frantically tried to tune the radio. “Drones.” A buzz. The sudden, clear and shocking sound of something solid shattering. “Harjeet has found us.”

  “Where?” Simon almost shouted.

  “Stay away!” Trent ordered. “The bunker… compromised… tunnels… no!”

  We stood huddled together behind a flashing billboard, as the country fell into mayhem, and my heart got torn from my chest.

  “The bunker,” Zhang Jun said softly. “Did they get everyone out?”

  “The refugees would have long gone,” Si replied. I was thinking he was operating purely on automatic.

  “We have to help!” Xiu Ying exclaimed.

  “No one is going near there, you heard Trent,” Si argued, turning away and grabbing some of the gear. After a few seconds Zhang Jun moved to help him, but Xiu Ying stood at my side, big, wide eyes looking up at me beseechingly.

  Every fibre in my body told me to go to him. To fight for him. To never stop trying to reach him.

  What would Trent The Rebel Leader do?

  I looked toward the back of the billboard, unable to see my image on the screen, but knowing it was still there, playing on repeat. The sounds on the street were deafening. The riot wasn’t about to end any time soon, despite the arrival of what had to be hundreds of drones.

  “How many drones do you think there are operational in Wánměi?”

  “Lena,” Si said from across the space.

  “How many?” I demanded.

  “Um, six to eight thousand at last count.”

  It seemed so few, for a country with over seven million inhabitants. But one drone alone could do so much. Eight thousand would allow dozens per street.

  “How many responding to the riots?” I asked, my mind reeling.

  “Several thousand at least. More if it’s not contained within the first hour. But, Lena,” Simon tried again. “Trent said…”

  “To stay away from the bunker.”

  “Yes! Exactly.”

  “He said nothing about the museum.”

  “No! It’s too close to the Domain.”

  “Close enough for there to be tunnels under the hill leading to the bunker,” I pointed out, and received a shocked gasp from Xiu Ying and stunned looks from both Zhang Jun and Si.

  “This is our only chance,” I pressed. “Her mainframe is at the Museum. You know it.”

  He nodded slowly.

  “Drones out on the street. Harjeet at the bunker. What does that leave at the museum?”

  “Ah, fuck it,” he said; clearly a capitulation.

  “You know I’m right,” I pushed. “Shiloh is at her weakest right this second.”

  Si’s worried eyes came up to mine; he really didn’t want to lead me into the witch’s lair and then have to tell his boss that he allowed me to get killed. But I had no intention of dying this night. And every intention of standing up for my Wánměi.

  Just like the Citizens were doing out on the streets.

  “Come on, Si,” I said, holding out my hand. “Give me the keys. I’ll drive.”

  His eyebrows shot up and he took a step backwards. Typical male.

  I smiled; it was probably cunning.

  “That way you can work on Markham’s vid-screen; it might have a clue to the algorithm.”

  He stopped retreating.

  “Well,” he said, contemplatively. “If you’re going to put it like that…”

  My cunning grin turned into an outright smile as I led the way to our safely hidden vehicle.

  The smile was soon forgotten, though, once I saw the fires burning across my beautiful city. Smoke a dark and swirling backdrop to the end of Wánměi’s days.

  Chapter 38

  The Noise Was Deafening

  Trent

  Concrete dust rained down all around us, making visibility low. The flash of red laser beams lit up the clouds like hellish lightning on a stormy day. It was close in here, as well. The ceiling of the bunker feeling lower than it had done before. The sound of rapid fire and shouts and commands echoing confusingly everywhere.

  Wang Jie, Alan and I had taken cover behind the storeroom door. But we were trapped. The corridor here only leading to the sleeping quarters and the bathrooms. We couldn’t reach the communal room, our only way out. We were cut-off from the armoury and the tech room, so setting off the charges Si had put in place was also out. And between us and the tunnels they’d used stood Harjeet Kandiyar and a small army of drones.

  The man was clearly mad. Screaming at the top of his lungs, crazed look to his eyes. The p'ta r'aru he wore was dishevelled. Rips and smudges obvious when we caught glimpses of him through the haze. Harjeet had never been anything less than perfectly put together. This was not the man we had lived with for a short while.

  And, most disturbingly, the drones were obeying his commands. Willingly? In order to appease him. Or because he’d wrestled back control?

  The door splintered with another round of repetitive laser fire, wood burning, smoke rising and adding to the smog. Alan groaned, and the world closed in a little further.

  I helped him shuffle back into the storeroom as Wang Jie laid down cover fire. Blood stained his t-shirt, a burn mark across his shoulder and upper arm. A graze, that would be feeding paranoia loaded drugs into his system.

  I spun on my heel and crossed to the back of the storeroom, entering a code into a lock-box on the back shelf. Within seconds I’d administered the antidote we’d acquired on one of Lena’s night time jaunts. Alan glanced up at me and offered a relieved smile.

  But we both knew the opiate concoction the drones used could have been altered. And the antidote could be out-of-date.

  “Mind over matter,” he said, reaching over with a good hand and grabbing some towels off a shelf.

  I didn’t reply, just left him to tend his wounds and returned to Wang Jie’s side. Sweat covered the Wáikěinese’s skin, making dust cling to his neck and face. He looked grey, not tanned. And I wasn’t entirely sure if that was due to his new concealer or fear.

  Even I felt it. We were pinned down. Out gunned; our lasers would run out of juice before all of theirs did. There was no conceivable way out.

  In the midst of firing off another round, alternating with Wang Jie to conserve our guns’ power levels, I thought of Lena. I wondered if she had spoken to the nation yet. I wondered what the reaction would have been. I prayed she was safe and Shiloh hadn’t found her. Paul would meet them at Muhgah Keekee. Si would get the refugees together who could help and start again.

  My heart bled for what lay ahead for them.

  It ached for Lena.

  The drones suddenly ceased firing. Wang Jie’s last few shots sounding hollow in the quieter space. I moved to the gap between the door and the frame and peered at the other end of the hallway. My heart thundering in my chest so hard I was sure I wouldn’t hear anything but its rapid beats.

  “Trent Masters!” Harjeet called. “You have nowhere to go. Give up now and I’ll let your men live.”

  Wang Jie stilled next to me. The idiot believed him. Alan just snorted in disgust.

  “I’d rather go out in a blaze of glory as I riddle you with holes, you murderous fuck!” I shouted back.

  “Well said,” Alan murmured, moving closer to peer through the gap as well. At least he was still functioning.

  Harjeet just tsked loudly.

  “What she sees in you, I do not know,” he commented mildly, as I raised my gun hand and fired off several rounds of sizzling laser fire around the side of the door.

  Wang Jie fell backwards to get out of my way, scuttling out of returning laser fire when his hand landed outside of our makeshift shelter.

  “Boss,” Alan warned. The unsaid being, calm the fuck down!

  I nodded to him, looked at Wang Jie to make sure he hadn’t suffered for my ridiculous lack of control, and then breathed hard, adrenaline coursing through my system.

  He didn’t have her. He couldn’t have her. This was Lena. She’d never go down without a fight.

  “If you insist on this course of action,” Harjeet said once the drones stopped firing; on his command, “I will be forced to have you wiped.”

  “Wiped?” I called out. “And what version would that be, Kandiyar? The final wiping? Or the one where you ship me off in a container to waters unknown? Come on!” I shouted. “If I’m going to die here in this fuck awful shit hole then tell me what the hell you’re doing with the humans?”

  “I have no desire to tell you anything, Masters,” he sneered, the emphasis on my surname. Clearly he didn’t like me calling him Kandiyar.

  Harjeet demanded respect. Always had. Never got it from me.

  “Fuck you!”

  He started laughing. It was the conceited sound of a man who held the world in the palm of his hands.

  I looked at Alan. Met his dark eyes. Saw the understanding and acceptance there that I would have been wearing. This was it.

  My hand found the shortwave on my belt, fingers running over the edges. I could call her. Speak to her one last time. Tell her I loved her. Say the fucking words loud enough for every man, drone and homicidal computer programme to hear. Shout it to the world.

  But what would that do to Lena?

  My hand moved from the shortwave and I pushed to my feet. Alan rose with me. Wang Jie looked like he was heading towards a catatonic state; just staring at the back of the door, the one thing standing between him and sure death.

  “What are you doing?” Alan demanded in a hiss.

  I looked at him; my best friend, the man who had stood by me through the darkest years and walked with me through hell to try to reach the sun. We hadn’t reached it. Not yet. But maybe he still could.

  My hand landed on his shoulder. He started to shake his head.

  “Trent,” he whispered.

  “It’s me he wants.”

  “No. He wants the rebels destroyed. You have nothing to bargain with.”

  “I have my name. Me.”

  “He won’t be interested.”

  “What choice do I have?” I asked.

  “We go out guns blazing, like you said. We take him with us.”

  I held Alan’s gaze for a very long time. Then Harjeet called out, “Tick-tock, Masters.” We ignored him.

  “Last command,” I said, voice low. “You always said you’d follow my orders.”

  “Only if they made fucking sense!”

  “This make sense, Alan. You know it.”

  He closed his eyes and let out a long breath of air. “Fuck!”

  I smiled. Patted his shoulder and then walked to the edge of the door.

  “My men go free!” I shouted. “And I’m yours.”

  “You wish to bargain?” Harjeet asked, but sounded contemplative, not dismissive.

  This would work.

  This had to work.

  “Step out from behind the door, Trent Masters,” the snake said. “Your men will be left to find their own way out, but you’ll come with me.”

  “Your word!” I pressed.

  Alan just shook his head.

  “You have my word, on all I hold holy.”

  I turned to look at Alan. “Find Lena. Look after her. Rise again.”

  “Trent.”

  I turned away and stepped around the edge of the door.

  And met a psychedelic lightning display of reds and greens and blues. Laser lights flashing and hitting their targets, mowing down the drones who stood before Harjeet, protecting their master, one after the other. So many, so loud, so fucking confusing. Because they weren’t coming from us and they sure as shit weren’t coming from Harjeet.

  “What the fuck?” Alan yelled, pulling me back out of the line of fire. But I hadn’t been in it. The shots had all come from the entrance to the communal room, just shy of Harjeet and his drones, but so far out of our reach I’d discarded it.

  They tried to fire back. And some of the drones managed. But not enough. Whatever, whoever, was firing from the zebra room was doing it in vast numbers. The lasers never stopped. Never dimmed or cut-off. If the drones were hitting their target, they were either not successful, or someone took the place of those who fell. Seamlessly.

  The noise was deafening. The smell even worse. Melted meltal, fused electronics, sparking interfaces.

  And when the firing finally stopped - Alan, Wang Jie and myself, our hands over our ears as we sheltered inside the storeroom, Emir’s sheet covered still form at our backs; a silent supporter - the smell of burned flesh wafted on the air all around us.

  I was the first to move. Eager to see if that pungent, stomach churning odour came from the end of the corridor or the communal room. I peered around the corner. Saw a sight I never thought I’d ever see. A hundred drones, piled up on top of each other where they had fallen, and Lee Fucking Tan hauling Harjeet’s limp form from the smoking mound.

  Utterly dead, if the partially severed head was anything to go by.

  “Tan?” I said. Stunned, I’ll admit.

  He turned around at the sound of his name, long face hard, blue eyes narrowed.