Oliver looked toward Five, but he’d gone silent. Lila kicked at a fallen branch, feeling a little smug, waiting for someone to pick up the pieces, if they could.
It was Five who broke the silence. The initial attacks will be Luyten only. They’ll be small. The defenders will think we’re attempting the coup on our own, and they’ll turn their guns on us. Soon after—very soon after would be our preference—humans will rise up, and we fight a war on a million fronts, all at once.
“How exactly are we going to get a billion people to rise up, more or less all at once?”
When the time comes we’ll push everyone able to fight. We can be very persuasive.
“You’re going to persuade a billion people?” Oliver looked dubious. “I’m not sure anyone’s going to respond to Luyten shouting orders at everyone at once.”
Oh, they won’t be generic orders. We’ll speak to each person individually, by name. If we have to we’ll shame them into fighting, or scare them.
“A billion people? Have you done the math on that? It’ll take forever,” Kai said. “We’ll have to target certain block leaders, rely on them to spread the word.”
Oliver, do you remember the MRIs and CT scans you subjected me to while I was your prisoner? Remember the curious repetitive nature of my brain structures?
“Sure.”
If a species evolved with the ability to exchange thoughts with many others at once, wouldn’t it make sense that this species also develop separate, parallel processing centers of conscious thought?
Oliver looked stunned. “You can think—and communicate telepathically—on multiple tracks simultaneously?”
The implications of that boggled Lila’s mind. Dozens, maybe hundreds, of separate lines of thought all going on at the same time in one head? The entire species thinking like that, and communicating telepathically. All of those lines of thought connected in a vast web. They were even more alien than she’d imagined.
Do we have a deal? Five was looking at her.
Lila grunted. “I imagine you knew we had a deal before I was aware I’d made up my mind. That’s not to say I don’t have deep reservations about this.”
Humans draw a hard line between thinking something and saying it aloud. I’m asking you to say it aloud.
Lila considered Five. How had they arrived here, at this insane moment? She wanted to tell this creature to go to hell. But that wasn’t an option; even she understood that now.
“Yes. We have a deal.”
77
Dominique Wiewall
October 24, 2047. Southeastern Alaska.
A Harrier swooped by, just above the tree line. Forrest, who was driving their BvS10, jerked the wheel, taking them off the road and pulling to a stop.
They listened to the thump of the Harrier’s propellers. Dominique watched out the window, praying it didn’t turn back.
“Do you think it saw us?” Forrest asked.
“I don’t know. It was close. It could have.”
“If it did, they wouldn’t necessarily engage us,” Peter Smythe said from the back, crowded in with a dozen others. “They might call in reinforcements first.”
What was there to do, though? Ditch the vehicles and head off into the woods with whatever they could carry? In the side-view mirror Dominique saw the door open in the next vehicle back. The president stepped out, his eyes turned toward the sky. Dominique and Forrest got out as well.
“Do we just hope they didn’t see us?” Wood asked.
No one answered.
“What are the odds? Sheena?” He turned. “Did they see us? Your professional opinion.”
Sheena looked into the treetops. “It’s a close thing, but I’m going to say no. The foliage is too thick, and we’re on something that’s barely a road; they wouldn’t expect to find us here.”
Wood nodded, satisfied. “Let’s take a break since we’ve already stopped.” He raised his voice. “Twenty minutes, everyone.”
It was fascinating to Dominique to watch Anthony Wood lead. Not once had she heard anyone question why Wood should be in charge, given that the United States no longer existed, and his brother, not him, had been the sitting president when it fell. No one questioned him because everyone wanted him to be in charge. He was that good at it.
“I’m going to take a walk, stretch my legs a little. Want to come?” Forrest asked.
“Sounds good.” Dominique barely remembered what it felt like to take a walk, let alone a run. She’d run almost every day of her life until she found herself at CFS Alert, where there was nowhere to run but outside, where the snow was always three feet deep.
They headed off down the logging trail. Forrest checked his watch. “We’ll go nine minutes, then turn around.”
There was nothing to see except trees and brush, the same view they’d had for days, but it was nice to pass it slowly, to hear the wind and the occasional bird. “How far do you think we are from the nearest town?” Dominique asked.
“Probably less than fifty miles. We’re getting into more densely populated territory.” Forrest took her hand, and, glancing back, Dominique realized he’d waited until they were out of sight of the caravan before doing so. The few people who had coupled up over the past eighteen months were all discreet about it, probably because they were aware of how many of the others were lonely, and recently widowed. Some didn’t know whether they were widowed, whether their children were dead or alive. She was so grateful she didn’t have children.
“I’m so tired.” It came out before she could stop it.
“Me, too.”
“I’m not sure I understand the plan. We’re just going to slip into some town and hope the defenders don’t notice us?”
Forrest glanced at his watch. “I’m not sure there is a plan. Maybe a few of us slip into one town, a few into another.”
“I doubt the president would split us up like that. It would mean we were giving up the resistance.”
“No, you’re right.”
Forrest paused, frowning. Dominique was going to ask him what was the matter, then she heard it, too: an aircraft engine, getting louder. They bolted into the woods. Dominique ran, arms up to keep branches from whipping her face, following Forrest’s back. The engine grew louder. She heard another, farther away.
Forrest stopped abruptly, ducked behind a tree. Dominique squatted behind him, panting, a plume of vapor jetting from her open mouth.
A Harrier roared past, flying low, following the logging trail. Just before it flew out of sight, a defender in full battle gear appeared in the rear doorway and leaped out. A small chute deployed as it dropped.
“Oh, no.” Dominique leaped up.
Forrest caught the back of her jacket and tugged her back down. “We’re unarmed. We’re no help to anyone.”
Gunfire erupted in the distance. Panicked shouts. Dominique squeezed her eyes shut as screams reached her, the sounds of people dying, of her friends dying.
“We have to get out of here,” Forrest said.
“There might be survivors. Wounded. We have to see.”
“Right now we have to run.” Forrest took her hand, led her deeper into the woods. They ran down a slope, and when they came to a stream Forrest surged right through; Dominique followed, her feet numb as soon as they hit the water.
Far behind them, she heard the whump of an explosion, followed closely by two more. They were taking out the vehicles, so anyone they missed would be left to freeze, with no shelter, no supplies.