84

Dominique Wiewall

January 18, 2048. Washington, D.C.

It was a pathetic war room. In place of interactive high-definition electronic maps, they had paper maps and push-pins on the walls. And Spider-Man. Dominique didn’t even feel qualified to participate in planning an insurrection. She was a geneticist, for God’s sake.

We’re in direct contact with hundreds of high-ranking officers with combat experience, Five said in her head, probably from miles away. They’ll be making the military decisions.

“I know, I know,” Dominique said. “They’re just my thoughts, Five. That’s where we express our private doubts and insecurities. If we’re all going to live together in peace and harmony, your kind is going to have to learn to politely ignore what you hear us thinking.”

Sorry. You’ll have to excuse my manners, but thousands of my people are being slaughtered at the moment, and each time it happens, it feels a little like dying myself. I’d appreciate it if you’d cut me one fucking inch of slack.

Dominique swallowed. “I’m sorry. I forgot for a moment.”

Oliver took a sip from his third or fourth cup of coffee, politely ignoring the altercation. He had three days’ growth of dark stubble on his face, and smelled like a defender. Dominique wasn’t sure how to tell him that if he didn’t have time to shower, he should at least change his shirt.

They were all on edge. Forrest had his face buried in his computer, trying to find a way to hack into the defenders’ video feeds to give them a better idea of what was going on out there. He cursed under his breath as he pounded away on the keyboard.

“Five, how are the evacuations in those cities going?” Oliver asked.

Chaotically. Some people are trying to get out, others are staying put. The defenders are saying no one who stays will be harmed, and anyone who tries to leave without a pass will be killed. Meanwhile, we’re doing our best to panic people into fleeing. If we can create stampedes out of the cities, the defenders won’t be able to kill as many refugees. The defenders are frantically trying to understand what’s happening.

“How do they think people learned about their plan to gas those cities?”

They’re guessing it happened through an intercepted communication.

Oliver nodded. “So they’re not suspicious that some of their own have been altered?”

That would be an impressive leap of logic, don’t you think?

“Don’t underestimate their capacity for paranoia,” Dominique said.

Someone knocked on the door.

Oliver jumped like he’d been goosed. He looked at the Invincible Iron Man alarm clock sitting on a nearly empty bookshelf. “Oh, shit. I invited Vanessa over. I didn’t realize what time it was.”

Dominique surveyed the room. “How were you planning to explain the battle maps?”

“I told her to come for coffee, but the real reason I invited her was to warn her of what’s about to happen, and hopefully convince her to stay here with us.”

Another knock. Oliver went to answer it.

It wasn’t Oliver’s ex, it was Lila, who stormed in, dropped her bag on the couch, and went to the map. “What’s happening?” Her eyes were red, and her nose sounded plugged.

“Didn’t we agree you should go to work, as usual?” Oliver asked.

“I infected myself with rhinovirus yesterday, then played up the symptoms like I had the flu.”

That seemed risky to Dominique, but she kept her mouth shut. Lila liked to be in the middle of things. Dominique could relate.

“Here we go!” Forrest shouted. “I got it, I got it.”

Everyone hustled to see the laptop screen. “We can choose country, then city or town, over here.” Forrest pointed at a menu to the right of the screen. “Then scroll through the various feeds.” He toggled through a dozen views of D.C. until he found one that showed a handful of defenders with rifles shooting dozens of Luyten, who’d evidently been hiding in a warehouse. The Luyten were fighting back (in fact, one defender was down and unmoving), but they were cornered and outgunned, and they were dying. There were twitching, bullet-riddled Luyten everywhere.

“It’s time,” Oliver said, staring at the carnage. “Let’s send the call out to the human side of the resistance. They’re being slaughtered.”

Not yet—we have to allow the images of Luyten resistance to spread. It will make it much easier to convince your people to fight at our side.

“Are the images spreading?”

Yes. Quickly. We’ve recruited human allies who are making sure.

“What about the Luyten in the wild, the ones who are armed?” Dominique asked. “Couldn’t they help?”

Lila turned. “What Luyten in the wild?”

“We stumbled on a camp of armed Luyten in Alaska. They looked like they’d been there since the war. If there’s one camp, there must be others.” She was surprised this was news to them; she’d assumed if she knew about them, the others would by now.

“Five?” Lila sounded supremely uneasy. “Are there others?”

There was an uncharacteristically long pause. Yes. Some of your military strategists are aware of them, and have plans for them.

“How many?” Lila asked.

Several million worldwide, Lila. And yes, to what you’re thinking. That was the original plan.

Dominique looked at Lila. “What was the original plan?”

Lila folded her arms. “They were planning their own rebellion. Why else would they have secret camps all over the world? And I’ll bet they were breeding as fast as they could, weren’t they, Five? You were biding your time, waiting to grow an army big enough to wipe out the defenders, and then us.”

Look out your fucking window, Lila. We’re dying by the thousands. If you still can’t see past your own hatred of us, then I give up. We’re monsters, bent on killing. You’re angels, with nothing but noble intentions. Are you satisfied? Now, get the hell out of our way. The rest of us have work to do.

There was no missing Five’s rage. It burned inside Dominique’s head like a blowtorch.

“He’s right, Lila,” Oliver said, speaking gently. “Since we formed this alliance, they’ve done everything they promised, and more.”

“Except tell us about the existence of millions of other Luyten.”

“They told others. I’m guessing they withheld the information from us because they knew how you’d react. Can you blame them?”

Lila looked at Oliver, her eyes like razors. Dominique had seen her angry like this a few times before; it had never ended well. She needed to defuse the situation before things got out of hand.

“Well, you can’t blame them, that much is clear,” Lila said, her tone acid. “What is it about Five that makes you crave his approval so desperately? Even after he broke up your marriage, you still want his approval more than you want your wife back.”

Oliver’s face trembled, with rage, hurt, or both. “You don’t know anything about what I want.”

Lila opened her mouth to reply just as the doorbell rang.

“That’s Vanessa,” Oliver said. He went to the door.

“Five, tell us the Luyten’s original plan, so we can understand,” Dominique said.

Oliver led Vanessa into the room; Dominique nodded a brief greeting, as Five replied.

Stay out of sight. Multiply. In about thirty years, if we weren’t discovered, we’d have had enough strength to rise up against the defenders. Humanity would be forced to choose a side.

“But you changed your plan when you learned about the defenders’ plan to cull the human population. You couldn’t stand idly by while it happened,” Dominique suggested.

Vanessa looked utterly confused. She was hearing only half the conversation. Oliver whispered something to her.

“Or they saw it as an opportunity,” Lila said. She headed for the door. “I’m going to go. Five is right; I’m only getting in the way.”

No one tried to stop her. Dominique was tempted, but it was probably best for her to be elsewhere; the stress was getting to her. The stress was getting to everyone, even Five. Hell, Dominique wished she could leave, too.

Oliver was still whispering to Vanessa. Her mouth dropped open. “Oh my God.”

Your military strategists are offering a range of opinions, from launching the human side of the uprising immediately, to waiting several days. The consensus seems to be to wait another hour or two. So that’s what we plan to do.

“Explain to me again how you’re going to convince people to pour into the streets, poorly armed, against defenders armed to the teeth?” Dominique asked.

Wake up, John Smith, your people are rising up, and they need your help. Get the ax from your garage and report to your commander on Main Street. I’m hiding under your house. Don’t make me come in there and get you.

The room erupted with laughter, except Vanessa, who looked confused, and scared. Oliver whispered something else, clearly trying to console her.

“That would get my ass into the street,” Forrest said.

It won’t take much prodding. Most humans are ready to fight.

Forrest nodded. He looked dead on his feet, his eyes half shut, his hands shaky. It occurred to Dominique that this might be a good time for them to go back to the little apartment they’d commandeered and get a couple of hours’ sleep. Oliver would probably appreciate some time alone with Vanessa, and in this little studio apartment that wasn’t going to happen unless Dominique and Forrest left for a while. When she suggested getting some sleep to Forrest, he didn’t argue.