The Monitor Read online

  Wilson replied, "Check," and took off out the way we came.

  Mick led us through a hallway to some stairs, while he explained the situation. "Jax was a good worker. He's been at this facility for twelve years now."

  "What happened?" Maddix asked as we followed Mick up the stairs.

  "Can't say for sure. We had to restrict his hours some, but that's been coming for a lot of people. He wasn't singled out-"

  A loud crash above us halted everyone. Maddix held his hand up in a signal, and we activated weapons.

  "Better let us go first," Maddix told Mick as we slipped past him up the rest of the stairway.

  The stairs opened into a large warehouse, with several machines suspended from the ceiling on cables and metal framework. It felt like we walked into an oven. Even with the suits on, the rise in temperature was noticeable.

  The whine of motors drowned out everything but some shouting. Ahead of us were several workers. My HUD tagged each with their respective Citizen and Worker ID and the Rager: Jax, a large man. Jax was backed against a large container and held a wrench. His clothes were disheveled, his hair wild. His face was red and drenched with sweat. A few workers stood around him, but at a safe distance. Whenever one of them got too close, Jax swung the wrench toward them.

  Maddix signaled us again, and we formed a semi-circle and closed around Jax in a loose perimeter while Maddix slung his rifle on his shoulder and headed for the center. According to training, the first tactic in any Rage Event was always peaceful negotiation.

  Jax caught sight of us and bellowed, "You can’t make me leave!"

  "Easy," Maddix replied, his hands outstretched. "Having rough day, Jax?"

  Jax huffed in response. "What you know about rough?" The knuckles on his hand that gripped the wrench whitened.

  "More than you think." Maddix eased closer to Jax. Jax flexed his arms in response.

  Maddix continued, "What's going on, big guy?"

  Jax breathed faster. His eyes flit back and forth and took in each of our group behind the workers. He muttered, "You're not taking me in."

  Maddix padded one step closer, near the space where Jax swung a few seconds ago. "C'mon, Jax. You know that ain't my call."

  Jax rested the wrench on his shoulder. His hands still clenched the handle tight.

  Maddox tapped his palm a few times. The silent notice display in my HUD displayed a message: "Pulse rifles on stun. If assailant moves to strike, neutralize." I looked around, and the others nodded with compliance.

  "What's gotcha worked up, man? Talk."

  Sweat rolled off Jax's forehead. "They're cutting my shift, by a third. Won't be able to make it, not with a wife and kids. What am I supposed to do?"

  Mick called out from behind us, "It's temporary, Jax! We're having quota troubles, and we need to adjust-"

  "-No!" Jax bellowed, and he wielded the wrench again. "I'm getting old, and you're tryin ta get rid of me."

  Jax took a step toward Maddix, the wrench thrust out. I pulled my rifle up, the digi-sight lined up Jax's frame.

  "Easy buddy, you don't need this-"

  Jax yelled and swung the wrench at Maddix. He retorted with some comment, but the blast from my rifle knocked him unconscious before he finished whatever it was.

  5

  Maddix contacted BOSAM for transport of Jax, and we stood around the front and waited for their arrival. We filled Wilson in on what happened.

  "Why'd you wait so long?" Wilson wiped his brow. "If he was that close to assaulting your unit leader - suppose your weapon malfunctioned."

  Maddix steadied him. "Hey, it was my call. You don't know what's in a Rager's head."

  "With all due respect, you coulda gotten your ass busted pretty bad."

  "And I'm running this shift, Wilson. I say how we handle things. Don't forget it."

  Wilson shook his head and walked a little down the street. Maddix eyed him.

  "You OK?" I patted Maddix on the shoulder.

  "Mmhmm. You'd think a guy like him would know by now, can't pop someone without giving 'em a chance to talk first." Maddix shouldered his weapon and returned my gaze.

  "He's been on the job awhile," I remarked.

  "Maybe too long." Maddix huffed. "Thanks for covering me."

  "Like I wouldn't?" I smiled.

  The BOSAM Transport arrived. Jax was laid out on the ground. Three of our group hauled him to his feet and loaded him in.

  "Sia, upload the incident data to BOSAM," Maddix ordered as they finished with the transport driver. I activated my HUD and the comlink to BOSAM. Every Rage Event was documented: how many were involved, any damage done, where it happened, and how long it took for the response.

  Nobody ever found out what was done with this data, but every so often Lucien came out with some great statistic about how the system worked.

  6

  As the transport left, Maddix waved us together, and we met up on the side of the street. As Wilson walked up, Maddix said, "Got a message from Lucien. Trouble brewing at the border. They aren't sure how many or who, but the unit there reported taking some fire. We're closest to there now, so we're heading out ASAP."

  We took off in a sprint toward the border zone. I wriggled in my suit when I felt beads of sweat trickle down the back.

  I'd never seen the border before, except on a Monitor screen. Every time, the view of the border for me was of the Block, a large metal door that looked like it was at least fifteen feet high.

  Every so often, supplies were sent through, and even that was risky. Once in a while, a supply transport was hijacked.

  As we turned a corner, I noticed Wilson to my side. His stare bored into me.

  "Yeah?" I asked.

  "Ever see the border, rookie?"

  "Never in person. You?"

  "Yep, better stay sharp. Won't be as simple as that Rager."

  I looked at him for a little, then focused on the path ahead. I never knew if Wilson looked out for me or just wanted someone around to belittle with these quips. Guess insults were his way.

  A few blasts sounded out, and black smoke billowed from past some of the buildings ahead. The HUD indicated the border was another three blocks run.

  "Rifles on stun," Maddix said.

  The HUD indicated "Threat advancing, shelter," and the whine of a transport engine started soft, but got loud very fast. Something that looked like a supply transport barreled down the street towards us at terrific speed.

  "To the side!" Maddix yelled as the transport got close. Smoke poured out from one side of the transport, and its front was covered in flames. When we split up to one side of the street or the other, pulse fire rang out and slammed into buildings.

  "It's been hijacked by Breakers, shoot out the wheels!" Maddix barked into the com. I took aim with the rest and shot at the vehicle. It soon crashed into a building. Two figures jumped out and fired pulse rifles at us.

  I crouched for cover and heard the strange message again. It was the same voice as before, too. "The count is the frequency... robin, sparrow, indefeasibly."

  A shot glanced off my armor covered arm. I felt a sudden burst of heat in the spot. I imagined how worse it would've felt without armor. Wilson ran from the opposite side of the street, and with his help we cornered the Breakers. They weren't interested in a surrender, so we sprayed them with pulse fire. One of them looked at me as he fell to his knees. His face was strewn with hair, and blood flowed from a gash on his head. His eyes shot into me. Much as I tried not to, I held his gaze.

  They told us in training that our work might one day involve this. They never mentioned how it would feel. Or how the eyes of someone looked as life left their body. My jaw clenched; I lowered my rifle as there wasn’t any use. It was over.

  I was jolted by a hand on my back, and Maddix's voice got me focused again. "Let's go, one block to the border."

  Our little drive by seemed like an afternoon stroll compared to ho
w the scene at the border looked. By the time we got up there, the patrol that was on duty was spread out behind overturned vehicles and pillars near the wall. A few Breakers had climbed atop the wall and hurled some kind of flaming balls onto the troops. Maddix checked in with the lead officer for an update.

  I crouched by a transmission pillar about fifty feet from the gate. The pillars were used for data relays of the chips, but for me they provided a handy bit of cover from the fiery projectiles and occasional pulse fire.

  Keith braced himself against another pillar. "What's the story?" he asked over the comm.

  "Not sure," I replied. "Maddix is getting a sitrep."

  Fires burned all about us. I gagged a bit on the fumes that made their way through the filtration system on my suit. The HUD displayed our current border situation. Of the original patrol that guarded the door, half of them were down, either taken out by the hijacked vehicle or from the group that hurled things on us now.

  Maddix bolted toward us as an incendiary projectile hit the ground near him. He rolled and popped up, and fired a shot toward the wall.

  "Here's the deal!" he shouted over the comm. "Eyes on the other side say this uprising is a good thirty or more Breakers. We have to hold tight for another transport with reinforcements. At that point, we breach the border and contain the combatants."

  "We gonna get enough to make a dent?" I asked. "Suppose it's way more than thirty?"

  Maddix eyed me, then looked to the wall. "It'll be enough. These things never go for long. Damon's got them riled up again."

  The transport was bigger than the one they had hauled Jax away in and larger than the one we blew away. The front was lined with sharp angled posts and the rear had two long cars trailing it. We climbed into the last car, where a group of BOSAM agents waited. We grasped straps attached to the ceiling for support as the vehicle moved out. The vehicle lurched, and I swayed with the rest, glad the straps were there for minimal support.

  I heard some chatter over the comm, sounded like the driver communicated with BOSAM central.

  The yelling outside got louder. Every now and then, there was a thud on the side or top; I guessed some of their weapons found their mark. The vehicle lurched, and I heard a high pitched whine.

  "Gate's open," Maddix muttered.

  Another twenty seconds passed before the doors to the side flew open. We were on the other side of the border. The Breakers were lined up behind their own barriers and threw rocks, bottles, whatever they had at us, and yelled. One of them waved a flag with a man's face on it. The flames and smoke hid some of the crowd, but there had to be at least fifty to a hundred there.

  My HUD ran an auto assess of them and marked them as Breakers. The BOSAM agents fanned out and opened fire on the crowd at random. Several of them ducked for cover while others were flung to the ground when hit with fire. The yelling morphed into howls of pain as we advanced into the crowd.

  I was distracted for a moment by the visual in my HUD; it flickered a bit before it returned to normal. That was unusual, even as little time as I'd been out in the field. I kept up with the group, though, my rifle poised and ready for a barrage from anyone.

  After a few more minutes, the Breakers took off running into the distance. The HUD displayed a message: "Cease and withdraw. Threat contained."

  7

  A few weeks passed since the incident over the border. The bulletins from Lucien came less often, but the shifts had increased. No one I asked knew anything about that strange message. I had my comm gear checked, and nothing was found wrong with it. I was afraid if I asked too many questions about the messages, I'd have gotten called in, so I dropped it.

  I went out again with Maddix and our team on a morning patrol. The sun glazed the faceplate of my helmet, which gave subtle warmth as we strolled down the sector street.

  We walked through the mechanical quadrant. The hum of engines surrounded us on the street. Workers moved in and out of facilities; some stopped and nodded as we walked past them.

  I saw movement out the corner of my eye and noticed Keith, his rifle held up.

  "Problem?" I asked.

  He gazed through the digi-sight for a little before he answered, "Checking settings on that building up there." He glanced at me. "Thought I saw something odd."

  "Comm band is pretty quiet; think they'd alert us." I shrugged.

  "Yeah, I guess."

  "So, hear anything else about the border?"

  He shook his head and looked down the street. "Not since that last breakout. I've been transferred to street patrol ever since. Supposed to get a briefing from Lucien soon though, maybe get my ticket there."

  "You want to go back, after all that?" I asked.

  "Yep. I feel better when I'm up close to it, keeping an eye on those bastards. We shoulda been going in there a lot sooner than we did, but that's my take."

  He chuckled, and it sent a chill through me. I wasn't sure what I made of those people we killed. According to the Committee, the Breakers defied the rule of New Damai by their refusal of the chips, so they were forced to the ghettos, where they scavenged for whatever food they found. The only help they had from New Damai was a periodic shipment of basic supplies. This was agreed upon in the hopes it would curtail the efforts of citizens who helped their loved ones in the ghetto.

  "I’m not used to this yet," I muttered.

  "You're still a rookie, right? Don't worry, you'll be fine. Heard ya got yer first kill during the border incident." Keith smiled.

  I nodded as the telltale tone rang out over the Comm. This one was anything but regular, at least for me. Maddix swiveled right to me, his eyes wide. I looked at him, then to the message on our comm system.

  "Rage Event: CHEM-870 Plant... Subject, George Garrett."

  8

  The heat in my suit got very intense. A bead of sweat rolled from my forehead into one of my eyes. I blinked at the stinging sensation.

  "No, Sia." Maddix shook his head. "It's not our call."

  "Come on, it's George. I've... got to be there."

  "You heard central. The other unit's got this."

  My voice shook as I spoke. "He's my husband."

  Maddix stared at me in response.

  My breath hitched. "I have to see him." I looked toward CHEM-870. It was at best eight to ten blocks away. But if I broke rank now, Maddix may have had me stunned and sent for discipline, whatever that meant.

  Maddix motioned us forward on our path. My eyes scanned toward CHEM-870.

  What could've happened?

  He seemed a little on edge. I remember he said they were upping his quotas, but that's what they've been doing with everyone. What could've pushed him over?

  I looked at the others; they walked behind Maddix. It's what they did, what we did. BOSAM had no room for Breakers.

  My throat tightened. What if I never saw him again, and they did the same to him as they did to that other Rager, Jax? I shuddered with thoughts of George sent for processing somewhere. I squeezed the handle of my rifle and eyed the others.

  I darted to the left, between two buildings. If I hightailed it, maybe I could get there before the transport picked him up and have a chance at a conversation with him.

  And before they got me as a Breaker.

  Maddix's voice crackled in my helmet. "Sia, what're you doing?"

  "You know what," I gasped as I ran.

  I heard Maddix’s huffs over my comm; they mirrored my own. My HUD turned red. An alarm sounded: "Agent breaking patrol, alert, officer breaking patrol, unit SG3230: Sia Garrett."

  "Copy Central, investigating," Maddix answered, and the alarm silenced.

  I stopped long enough to look at Maddix. I zoomed in closer on him in my viewfinder. His face was in a halfway scowl. He eyed me for a moment, then nodded. I wondered why he hadn't fired on me yet. I spun around and checked for Keith or Wilson or any of the others around. Nobody. I watched Maddix again. He raised his hand
very slow and gave a thumbs up. I smiled and returned the gesture before I turned up the street to head to CHEM-870.

  I got there as the unit pulled George out to the street. I was in luck; he was conscious. I ducked behind some vehicles parked nearby on the street in case any of them saw and identified me after that Agent alert.

  Two BOSAM agents walked George to the transport. His hair was tousled, and his face was red. His eyes looked wild, and sweat poured off his body. He said something, but I was too far away to hear. The agents who handled him began speaking on their comms, and I picked it up from there.

  "Ever hear anything like that?" one asked.

  "Naah, not from a supervisor. Thought those guys were screened better; this guy's a nut," another replied.

  "Damn right he is. Him jabbering about Damon, you'd think he was his brother or something."

  "Yeah, and what was that nonsense he was babbling? The count is the frequency... robin, sparrow, indefeasibly?"

  I froze.

  George heard it too.

  But what did it mean?

  And what was the link between George and Damon? Was that what had led to his capture?

  But they listed it as a Rage Event.

  None of this made sense. Maddix was on patrol though, and any BOSAM facility was the last place for me right now.

  I clutched my comm in thought.

  Frequency.

  Comm frequency?

  But which? BOSAM used a standard set.

  I ducked into an alleyway and adjusted the controls on my comm. The audio in my helmet varied from silence to deafening static.

  The count.

  Of what, words?

  The message had eight words in it. Eight was too low for any band.

  A few beads of sweat rolled off my face. If I didn't hide somewhere quick, a roving patrol would spot me. I jogged up one street and ducked into a warehouse.

  OK, so the count of something was the frequency. But the last three words meant nothing.

  Unless...

  Robin... 5

  Sparrow... 7

  Indefeasibly... 12

  I adjusted my comm to frequency 5712 and heard a message in another voice.